Page 15 of The Rake’s Absolutely Devilish Reform (The Notorious Briarwoods #4)

H ector thundered into Lord Plumhurst’s study.

He did not wait to be guided or announced.

He realized this was beyond the pale in many ways, but he had gone beyond the pale.

This was no longer a matter of propriety; this was a matter of his future wife’s safety. Yes, his future wife.

In his mind, he was absolutely certain now that he would be married to Priscilla. Priscilla did not have all the facts about Lord Fitzhubert. Surely, she would be wise and understand that to marry such a man, who could do such things, was damned dangerous. And once Lord Plumhurst knew, then of course he too would prevent his daughter from marrying a man like that.

He had stayed with his brothers for a few hours, but then he’d known what he had to do.

And sitting in a pub was not it.

No, it was coming here to seize his future and Priscilla’s before it was too late.

Lord Plumhurst stood in his dressing gown. “Lord Hector,” he called. “My butler is in quite a state. Is there some sort of emergency?”

“There is, my lord,” he said, coming to a stop.

He had considered waiting until the first rays of dawn, but the matter was too dire.

Moonlight spilled through the window panes, and Plumhurst looked as if he had little patience for anything.

“Are you drunk?” Lord Plumhurst demanded, clearly suspicious. “Have you been gadding about the town? What has happened to your face?”

“I have been in Southwark,” Hector said. “I take lessons from a man named Hartigan Mulvaney, and then I was going to visit my brothers, but I was attacked.”

Lord Plumhurst stilled, his face going gray in the candlelight. “Attacked?” He cleared throat. “Well, you were in Southwark. I’m very sorry that it happened to you, but if you go into that part of town, as so many young men of your ilk do, then you must expect to be attacked, my lord. I’m glad to know you have learned to defend yourself so that you won’t be murdered in the mud. So many of you gents don’t understand how incredibly difficult it is to be alive in places like that. Those men… They’re little better than animals because they’re driven by a need for food and drink.”

“Oh, I understand,” Hector returned. “I understand that well.”

“Do you?” Lord Plumhurst said. “I have trouble believing that.”

Hector ground his teeth together. He saw it on the days of the week he went to St. Giles, ready to share Shakespeare, but he wasn’t about to use that to better his own argument. “I care about the position of such men. But I also care about Lady Priscilla, and that is why I’m here at present.”

“If you cared about Lady Priscilla, you would not come to this house in the middle of the night,” Lord Plumhurst challenged. “You would not go to Southwark at all.”

“I am who I am, my lord. I enjoy fighting. It is one of the occupations of a gentleman, and you wish to be a gentleman, so you must understand that. Gentlemen do not just limit themselves to the ton. They go out and see the rest of the city as well, and I was attacked by Lord Fitzhubert’s men.”

“What?” Lord Plumhurst said, stiffening, his accent roughening.

“I was warned to stay away from your daughter,” Hector growled. “That’s what they said. That she isn’t meant for me. Lord Fitzhubert attempted to have me beaten, possibly killed because he knows I am considered—”

Lord Plumhurst let out a harsh breath. “You are not a real contender. I have no consideration for you—”

“Not you,” Hector cut in.

Lord Plumhurst swallowed. “Priscilla,” he said softly.

“She cares about me, and I… I think I love her.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard,” her father bit out. “You love her? Please, my lord, you don’t know what love is. Your heart has been given out so many times.”

“I have never given away my heart, sir,” Hector countered tightly. “But even if you will not allow her to marry me, do not choose Fitzhubert. I know he seems an appealing choice. Yes, his family is ancient with good bloodlines and with much history to it. He has castles that—”

“Yes, all of those things and more, and without your reputation—”

“He’s not a good man,” Hector roared. “His father was not a good man. You need to think of those things. You care so much about bloodlines? Consider that. Consider that Lord Fitzhubert has no care for Lady Priscilla at all, only the coin which you will give him. And once he has her, he may give her no consideration, as you put it, at all. He’ll have the power to lock her up in a castle in the north somewhere and never let her out again. Do you understand that, my lord?”

“No,” Lord Plumhurst countered fiercely. “We have money, we have—”

“He will then have money too,” Hector desperately tried to reason. “Whatever dowry you give her, he will have. And you will have no more say because he will be her husband.”

Lord Plumhurst was silent as a muscle tightened in his jaw.

“Just promise me,” Hector whispered. “Promise me not him.”

“I cannot make that promise to you, sir. He is the best choice out of all the men who’ve asked.”

“Better than I?” he found himself compelled to ask.

“Better than you, my lord.”

His stomach sank. Had he so truly misused his life? Did the world truly think so little of him? Should he have worn all his good works upon his sleeve and bragged of them at every opportunity? It seemed so. But he did not know how.

“It does not seem as if you will look after her,” Hector said softly. “You seem to think that you are looking after her, but my lord, you are not. And I will ask you one more time to look after her properly.”

“Or what?” her father challenged.

“I will do it myself.”

Before her father could reply, Hector turned and left, going back out into the night, determined to find a way. Determined to rescue Priscilla at any cost, whether she knew that she needed rescuing or not.

She most certainly did, and he was not and never had been the kind of man to allow someone to suffer needlessly.

“Papa, what was Lord Hector doing here?”

“You should be asleep, my dear,” her father tried to soothe, though he was nearly shaking as he studied his fire. “You should be asleep. It’s far too late.”

“I heard some commotion in the hall. It woke me, and I raced down. It made me think of…”

Her father’s face tensed as his gaze darted to hers. “Yes, my dear. Yes, I understand.”

She did not need to say it out loud. The commotion had made her think of her childhood, when there had been fighting in the streets, drunken men brawling, shouting, and women screaming. They had hidden sometimes, deep in the shadows of their small room in that cold, cold brick house.

Yes, that had been a harrowing experience, but now she was safe, surely.

“What did he wish to speak to you about?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said.

She swallowed. How could her father lie? She had stood in the shadows of the hall listening to the whole conversation, and she’d longed to call out for Hector, but he had left enraged and she’d not quite had the courage.

“That’s not true, Papa. I heard him warn you about Lord Fitzhubert. Lord Fitzhubert’s men attacked him?”

Her father grimaced. “I told Fitzhubert that he would have you, that there was no chance that I would say yes to Lord Hector, so I do not believe it for a moment.”

“But that’s not true, Papa. Is it?” she said, her heart cracking. “I could see it on your face. You do believe Lord Fitzhubert attacked him.” And then she gasped as her father’s face all but melted with regret. “Did you know, Papa? Did you know he was going to send men to warn Lord Hector off?”

Her father’s face crumpled, and he dashed a hand over his exhausted face. His gaze searched hers. “Not exactly, no. You must believe me, my pet. I would never condone such a thing.”

“Then what?” she demanded, her heart twisting even as a chill slipped through her blood. “What happened?”

“Lord Fitzhubert told me he would take care of it. He would make certain that Lord Hector did not bother you again. We both feared Lord Hector might embroil you in a scandal. You see, Fitzhubert said he understood the way of the ton and that he would make certain…”

Her father’s voice died off and he let out a note of horror. “What have I done?”

She stilled. “Dear God in heaven, Papa. Is this the sort of people we are now? Is this sort of person you ever wanted to be? I have thought so poorly of Lord Hector, and yet he’s the one acting in honor in all of this. He is the one trying to protect me and do the right thing.”

“Priscilla, I beg of you not to say such a thing,” her father lamented. “I have done nothing but protect you all your life.”

Tears stung her eyes, and she dashed them away. Her throat tightened as she felt everything she’d ever known and trusted being ripped away. “I know, Papa. You have sacrificed so much and given me so much. And all I’ve ever wanted was to pay you back for it. But look at what you are doing. What we are doing. You’re making dealings with someone who’s willing to…” She swallowed. “I cannot bear to speak of it. I cannot bear it, Papa.”

She headed out into the hall, leaving her father alone. She rushed up the stairs, and just as she was about to enter her room, she saw her mother standing in the hall, haloed by silvery moonlight.

“Come, my dear,” her mother urged, just as she had done so many years ago when the outside world had threatened them. Holding out her weathered hand, her mother urged again, “Come.”

Her heart ached. Her mother so seldom did such a thing now. A great distance had grown between them as Priscilla had been forced to become a lady, as if her mother could not bear to be reminded how wanting she was.

Her heart ached with relief to be cared for, and Priscilla raced into her mother’s arms. “I’m sorry, Mama. I know I should do as Papa says.”

“No, my dear, not in this,” her mother countered, her voice deep with warning. She reached up and began stroking Priscilla’s hair. “I have been silent too long. You must do as your heart tells you to do. I have been afraid of the ton, too afraid to make choices and to go out into the world, but I cannot allow you to do this. I married your father because I loved him. I wanted to be with him, and yes, he has protected us all this time. But now? Now that we have everything he’s always wanted, he strives for more. I fear he shall try to climb too high, and the cost… I cannot allow you to be the cost, my darling daughter. You have already paid too much. I… I wish that I could…”

“No, Mama, you have given me so much all your life,” she rushed, pulling back and gazing at her mother’s lined face. For years her mother had toiled as a laundress, and the harsh conditions had aged her far beyond her years. “You mustn’t regret anything. I wish that the ton did not frighten you so. I wish society was not cruel, but I love you as you are. Surely, I cannot go against Papa now, but Lord Fitzhubert—”

Her mother gave a tight shake of her head. “You can go against your father. Did he raise a fool, or did he raise a strong woman?”

Priscilla sucked in a shocked breath. The question felt like a bucket of cold water. And then, as if she had been awoken from a very long sleep, she said, “A strong woman.”

“Then in the deepest parts of your soul, when you lie awake at night, who does your heart call to?”

More tears stung her eyes, and her body began to shake, for if she made the wrong marriage it could ruin her life. Ruin all their lives. “Oh, Mama, what if it calls for a rake?”

Her mother tilted her head to the side and smiled gently. “Well, they do say, my dear, that rakes make the best husbands. Have you tried to reform him?”

“No, Mama,” she countered, stunned by her reply. “Why should I make that attempt? Surely, he shall just prove to be what he always has been.”

“That is the narrowest thing I have ever heard you say.”

She winced. “What?”

Her mother gentled and stroked her hair again. “Would you say such a thing about myself, your father, you? That we could not change, improve, and grow?”

She stared at her mother for a long time, and in that moment, she wondered if her mother hadn’t always been the wisest of all.

“I love you, Mama. Thank you.”

“You marry him, my dear. I shall speak to your father, and we shall see what can be done. Do not choose Lord Fitzhubert because you fear Lord Hector will be a rake. Choices made by fear always result in disaster, my love. Follow your heart. It will not lead you wrong.”