Wescott sighed inwardly. He’d had no problem with Murdock before. Now, he was to gain a brother-in-law and enemy all at once. Lady Halsey sat stiffly on a chair by the fire, staring at him with equal parts revulsion and fury. This is the pain you deserve, he thought. This is what your rakish habits have wrought.
“It all started with a terrible misunderstanding,” his father began.
“Let your son speak,” Halsey said. “It’s him I wish to hear from, if you please, Your Grace.”
The Duke of Arlington was not used to being addressed so rudely, but in this case, he let it pass and looked at his son.
Wescott tugged the sleeve of his coat, subtly, hoping his nerves didn’t show. As a marquess of the realm and a future duke, he’d been taught right from wrong, and trained to handle himself in delicate situations. He’d learned elocution and etiquette from his parents and tutors, and been drilled in the ways of polite conduct in society. It was time to put those lessons to use.
“You see, sir, I was leaving the area of the theater when I saw your daughter in need of assistance. The fire was approaching and she stood alone in her costume. I worried she wouldn’t be able to escape in time because of her heavy skirts, so I brought her atop my horse to carry her. She gave her direction as Grosvenor Square, but I couldn’t deliver her home with the fire spreading toward the Thames, so we turned east and rode for some time. My horse began to falter from the smoke, and I thought it best to stop at some safe place.”
“And she accepted this?” her father asked in disbelief.
“She was exhausted and frightened. We barely exchanged words. I did assure her I would provide her with her own room, and that I would bear the cost, as she hadn’t any money.” He spread his hands. “I didn’t know who she was. She gave her name as Miss Layton when I questioned her. I thought she was an actress, and I could tell she was giving me a false name, so I…I also withheld my full name and title.”
“Why?” Lord Halsey’s teeth were set in a line. “Why not give your real name, if you didn’t intend her harm?”
“I’m sorry now that I didn’t. I wasn’t sure of her intentions, you see, of what might transpire if she knew my station. I thought she was an actress,” he repeated, although it seemed stupid of him now. “You must understand, it was such an irregular situation.”
“And you are a degenerate knave,” Lord Halsey snapped.
“Halsey.” His father’s voice held a note of warning. “If you want his story, he will tell it, but you won’t abuse him with name calling.”
“Is it name calling, Your Grace? Your son and his cohort are not known about town for their moral rectitude.”
“My son would have acted differently toward your daughter if she’d told him her true name and station. He’s never insulted a lady or conducted himself unlawfully.”
“Hasn’t he?” asked Halsey, turning a deeper shade of red.
“Gentlemen,” his mother said. “You are upsetting Lady Halsey.”
At this, Halsey turned to his wife and, rather than offering sympathy, attacked her with vicious scolding. “This is your fault, Greta. You couldn’t be happy until she was up there on stage before the entire ton, bringing you laud and recognition.”
Lady Halsey held a handkerchief to her lips and shook her head. “You mustn’t speak so. It was God’s plan. He gave her that voice—”
“And you used it to ruin her. If she hadn’t been at that theater, singing that blasted opera with Signore Whatever-His-Name-Is—”
“And if you’d let me wait for her backstage, rather than dragging me to the carriage, none of this would have happened,” she cried. “Why couldn’t you stay to watch your own daughter, with her beautiful soprano?”
“I couldn’t stay because of all the disgusting men in the audience gawking at her, and I wasn’t leaving you behind. It’s bad enough my daughter is on stage, without my wife milling by the alley doors, amidst all those dancers and musicians.”
His mother rose and moved to Lady Halsey, who was crying copious tears now. “Please, I’m sure neither of you meant for Lady Ophelia to come to harm. And she hasn’t come to harm. My son encountered her in her moment of need and very likely saved her life. What is that, if not God’s plan?”
Wescott glared at his future in-laws, wondering what God had to do with any of this. “At any rate, sir, I’ve exposed your daughter to the danger of unsavory gossip, and I beg you to let me repair my mistakes. With your permission, I’ll marry Lady Ophelia and afford her all the honor and privilege my title allows.” He saw the glint of approval in his mother’s eyes and pressed on with his speech. “Sir, your daughter is not to be held responsible for the events of last evening, nor you, Lady Halsey. The trespass was mine.”