Peter’s gut twisted because he couldn’t fault Edmund’s fury.

“He isn’t anymore,” Edmund growled as he dashed forward and grabbed Peter’s coat.

He shook Peter so hard that Peter’s teeth clacked together. It was temping to defend himself, but he knew he couldn’t. There was no way he could lay Edmund out for defending his sister. He could not justify punching Edmund back.

He had to grab hold of Edmund’s shoulders and whisper, lest the guests in the hall hear every word. “Truly, nothing is amiss. And if you cause a scene, she will be ruined.”

“She will not be ruined,” Edmund said, swinging him around, “because you’ll be marrying her. After your funeral.”

“That makes no sense whatsoever,” Ophelia scoffed.

“It does,” Edmund gritted, his blue eyes flashing. “Because I’m going to beat him into a bloody pulp. And then we’re going to resurrect him, march him down the aisle, and marry him to you.”

Ophelia stepped out from behind Peter and gave her brother a hard look, apparently not caring if they had an audience or not. “I could never force him to marry me.”

“You’re not forcing him,” Edmund countered, smoothing his hand down his waistcoat as he attempted to collect himself. “I am.”

Peter let out a low sound of dismay. “How the devil has it to come to this? I was just trying to assist her.”

“Assist her in what?” Edmund mocked. “Was she choking? Were you trying to bring her back to life? Was some mad thing happening in which you tripped and fell and your lips landed upon hers?”

Peter winced.

He knew that there was no explaining his way around this because truthfully, if anyone had caught them kissing, he would have ruined her. They had thought themselves safe for a moment in her own home, with just friends in the house and the darkness.

They had been utter fools.

And now, with Edmund’s antics and the guests witnessing their row? She was ruined. It was done.

“Of course, I’ll marry her,” Peter bit out. “There is no choice.”

“There is a choice,” she snapped, her spine as hard as her voice. “I shan’t marry you, Peter. You can’t make me. I don’t wish to.”

And with that, she stormed down the stone steps back out into the garden, and into the darkness.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Edmund gritted.

A murmur of shock and titillation went up from the witnesses.

“I?” Peter echoed, furious at how Edmund had treated his sister. Though...would he behaved differently if it had been his sister? Being an only child, he’d never know. But he couldn’t be too furious with Edmund.

If anyone was to blame, it was himself. But why had Edmund had to cause such a scene?

“You have upset her,” Edmund stated.

“No, you have upset her,” Peter countered quietly, his heart aching for Ophelia and her distress. Bloody hell, she’d just wanted to find a husband.

Well, she had. But not the one she wanted.

“You never should have kissed her to begin with,” Edmund said, his voice full of disappointment. “She’s not that kind of young lady, Peter.”

“I know, Edmund,” he whispered, ashamed of himself. “I know.”

Edmund strode forward, grabbed his arm, and dragged him away from the stone steps into the darkness of the garden. “Then what the devil were you doing?”

“I don’t know,” Peter exclaimed honestly, relieved to no longer be entertainment for Edmund’s family and guests. “There was something about her. About us—”

“I cannot believe that you attempted to seduce my sister,” Edmund said, his eyes flashing with pain. “That is low. Even for you, Peter. You know not to seduce young ladies who are unmarried.”


Tags: Eva Devon Historical