Page 94 of Rogue of My Heart

The trouble was, she couldn’t say anything about it. Not when Fergus and Lord Kilrea were so busy congratulating themselves at the side of the gathering. Worse still, Lord Kilrea looked down at Fergus as though he were a leper and not just a man who had lost an eye and the use of his legs in a scurrilous attack. Marie wasn’t sure which she hated more, the betrayal that had been hoisted on her or Lord Kilrea’s condescension.

“Father, perhaps we could discuss these marital arrangements?” Christian asked into the relative silence that had followed the announcement.

“Yes, a discussion would be grand,” Marie managed to croak after swallowing another mouthful of tea. She glared at Fergus as though she could bore a hole through her brother’s head.

Lord Kilrea looked surprised at the hint of mutiny. “I see nothing to discuss,” he said with a shrug. The way he looked at Christian was almost as harsh as the glare Fergus had for Marie. “There is a necessity of marriage. For both my sons. Suitable brides became available. What more is needed?”

“Suitable brides?” Marie said, teetering on the verge of exploding. The only thing that kept her from going off was Lady Kilrea’s maternal presence at her side.

“James,” she hissed at her husband. “There is no need to diminish the importance of these lovely ladies by referring to them merely as brides. As though they were chattel.” She sniffed and shook her head, then smiled broadly at Marie. She turned that smile to Lady Aoife as well. “Soon they will be more than brides, they will be daughters-in-law.”

A whole different kind of misery flooded Marie. It didn’t take much of a stretch of the imagination to see that Lady Kilrea was lonely. Perhaps for female company in particular. The hope that shone in her eyes was devastating. And it looked rather like the mischief that had shone in Christian’s eyes the day before. In fact, Marie could see that Christian favored his mother in looks and temperament, whereas his brother, Miles, took after their father.

Christian’s brother Miles. To whom she was now engaged, thanks to Fergus’s shenanigans.

“Fergus, dear brother,” Marie said through clenched teeth, stepping away from Lady Kilrea as gently as she could. “Might I have a word with you?”

“I thought you might want to,” Fergus said, the gleam of an impending fight in his one eye.

Henrietta stood by, of course, and as Marie stepped toward them, she shifted behind Fergus’s chair and wheeled him to the far corner of the room.

As soon as the three of them were alone, Marie stood as close as she dared to Fergus’s chair and leaned over him to hiss, “Of all the slimy, underhanded, miserable tricks.”

“I told you I had arranged a marriage for you to keep you out of trouble,” Fergus said, radiating anger.

“You could have engaged me to Mr. Darrow,” Marie managed to push out, trembling with fury. “He was the one whose actions you found so objectionable and ruinous in the first place.”

Fergus had to lean back in his chair to glare up at her. “Oh, so you think you should be rewarded for behaving like a hussy, do you?”

Marie bristled, eyes going wide. “You intend to punish me for life by shackling me to Lord…Lord…I don’t even know the man’s proper title?” she seethed.

“Lord Agivey is a perfectly decent fellow,” Fergus growled in return. “And he’s set to inherit the title. Most sisters would be falling all over their brothers in thanks right about now.”

“I will not thank you for engaging me to a man that I can see at once I could not possibly ever love,” Marie snapped, alarmed to find herself on the edge of tears.

“Whereas you think you could love Mr. Darrow,” Henrietta filled in the rest of her thought. At least Henrietta had a shred of compassion in her eyes.

Marie wanted to reply, but she feared if she opened her mouth, anything that came out of it would issue forth as a howl.

“Lord Boleran beat me to it,” Fergus admitted in a low voice. “By a matter of hours, I might add.”

“What?” Marie squeaked.

She glanced briefly over her shoulder to where Lord Boleran and Lady Aoife were now in conversation with Christian, his father, and his brother, Marie’s wretched fiancé. Christian wore an irritated flush, but was attempting to speak politely to Lady Aoife and Lord Boleran both. He happened to look in her direction, and when their eyes met, Marie could feel the strength of his frustration in her bones. She had a feeling Christian could sense the depths of her irritation as well.

Fergus’s sigh drew her attention back to her own conversation. “I came here yesterday, fully intending to marry you off to that bounder, Darrow,” he said. “But as I was coming in, Boleran was just leaving. For whatever reason, he needed to marry his sister off in a hurry.”

Marie blinked, glanced across to Lady Aoife, and frowned. She studied the bland wisp of a woman for a second before frowning at Fergus again. “She’s not, you know, in the family way, is she?”

“I doubt it, by the looks of her,” Fergus said. “And there was no chance of me asking Boleran right out.”

“But really, the only reason a brother has to marry off his sister in a hurry is if she has compromised herself in some way,” Henrietta said, staring pointedly at Marie.

“I did not compromise myself,” Marie whispered tightly. Guilt lashed her a moment later, so she added, “Not that way, at least.”

“It hardly matters now,” Fergus said. “You made your choices and I’ve made mine. To save us all from disgrace and ruination, you’re marrying Lord Agivey.”

“I don’t like the look of him,” Marie grumbled. She was being sullen and petulant, she would admit as much, even though it stung her pride. But this wasn’t a hand of cards or a waltz at some ball they were talking about. This was her life, her future.