‘What’s it to be. Pistols at dawn?’
‘No,’ Briggs said, his voice firm. Decisive. ‘It is to be marriage.’
Chapter Two
Philip Byron, the Duke of Brigham, was not a man to be trifled with. He was not a man easily bested, nor was he a man to back down from a challenge. But at the moment he felt thoroughly bested, by a chit barely out of the nursery. And were there reasonable challenge to be had in the current situation, he would gladly undertake it. But the only man in the world that he considered a true friend was currently glaring at him with clear murder in his eyes, and Briggs was well aware that when it came to the honour of his sister, Kendal would follow through with that murder.
Kendal was hardly a prude. The man took his pleasure when he wished. Briggs knew that better than most. They frequented clubs, gaming halls and brothels often enough. But that was just it. When it came to pleasures of the flesh, Kendal kept it separate from his family. And he certainly did not go about despoiling ladies. Neither did Briggs, for that matter. And he would never, ever have touched his friend’s sister. It was she who had flung herself at him. But at the current moment, there was no space to say so.
He regarded Kendal closely. ‘Might we see that your sister is safely ensconced in her chamber and continue this conversation in private?’
‘No,’ Beatrice said, scrambling even further away from him. ‘I don’t need to be ensconced. I wish to speak to you, Hugh, we must...’
‘Do not speak to me,’ Kendal said. ‘Neither shall you speak to me,’ he said to Briggs. ‘Not until I have had a chance to...’
‘I’m sorry,’ Kendal said to the group of waiting guests. ‘I must adjourn the tour. I bid you please make use of my hospitality further. But I would also ask that you refrain from speaking on the matter that you think you have witnessed here until we are able to set it to rights.’
The entire group dissipated at Kendal’s command, for he was, after all, the Duke. But Briggs knew that there would be gossip. That it was unavoidable. The damage was done. And it did not matter what had truly happened.
‘Hugh...’
‘Go,’ Kendal said. ‘Go to your bedchamber, and we will speak later.’
‘I wish to speak now.’
‘I will not hear you now.’
‘But please I...’
Kendal held up his hand, and he could see that Beatrice was weighing her options. She could persist. She could say what she had to say between his denials. Or she could wait until he was in a better frame of mind. And when she demurred to Kendal’s commands, Briggs did think it was likely the better of her options.
She left the room, and Kendal closed the door behind him.
‘Explain this to me.’
‘I was simply standing there. I do not know who your sister thought I was, but I swear to you, that I have never, and I would never...’
‘Good,’ Kendal said. ‘I know exactly what manner of man you are in your relationships. I should not like my sister exposed to any such thing.’
‘Have no worries, Your Grace. I have not exposed your sister to my appetites.’
The air seemed less deadly in the aftermath of that admission.
‘You have an heir already,’ Kendal said, looking at him closely.
Briggs felt a stab of discomfort over the mention of his son. It was true. He had already achieved the highest purpose of his life. He had sired an heir. The line would continue. It did not matter that he had been ill-suited to marriage, always and ever. That he had no idea what to do with the child, particularly not one with the difficulties his own had. But he was receiving good care and a fine education.
What else could be asked of him?
‘You must marry my sister,’ Kendal said.
‘You believe that I did not touch her.’ That was important. Briggs had very few people in his life he considered friends.
He had not been allowed at school until he was fourteen. So ashamed had his father been of his behaviour and so intent had he been on crushing Briggs, to remake him into something he could control, something he could understand.
When he finally had been allowed at school it had been after his father had died.
His mother had sent him.