Scandal in Spring
Page 79
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“You will remove this man,” Westcliff told Waring in a lethal tone, “over my dead body.”
In that moment Matthew realized the situation had gone far enough. He saw Waring’s hand dip into his coat pocket, the fabric sagging with some heavy object, and he saw the butt of a pistol. Of course. A gun was sound insurance in the event the constables proved ineffective.
“Wait,” Matthew said. He would say or do whatever was necessary to keep the pistol from being brought out. Once that happened, the confrontation would escalate to a degree of danger from which it would be impossible for anyone to back down. “I’ll go with you.” He stared at Waring, willing him to relax. “The process has been set in motion. God knows I can’t avoid it.”
“No,” Daisy cried, throwing her arms around his neck. “You won’t be safe with him.”
“We’ll leave right now,” Matthew told Waring, while he carefully disengaged Daisy’s grasp and pushed her behind the shield of his body.
“I can’t allow—” Westcliff began.
Matthew interrupted firmly. “It’s better this way.” He wanted the half-crazed Waring and the two constables away from StonyCrossPark. “I’ll go with them, and everything will be resolved in London. This isn’t the time or place for dispute.”
The earl swore quietly. An able tactician, Westcliff understood that for the moment he did not have the upper hand. This was not a battle that could be won by brute force. It would require money, legalities, and political wire-pulling.
“I’m coming to London with you,” Westcliff said curtly.
“Impossible,” Waring replied. “The carriage seats four. It will accommodate only myself, the constables, and the prisoner.”
“I will follow in my carriage.”
“I will accompany you,” Thomas Bowman said decisively.
Westcliff pulled Matthew aside, keeping his hand on his shoulder in a brotherly clasp as he spoke quietly. “I know the Bow Street magistrate quite well. I will see that you are brought before him as soon as we reach London—and at my request you will be discharged at once. We will stay at my private residence while we wait for a formal requisition from the American ambassador. In the meantime I will assemble a regiment of lawyers and every bit of political influence at my disposal.”
Matthew could barely trust himself to speak. “Thank you,” he managed.
“My lord,” Daisy whispered, “will they succeed in extraditing Matthew?”
Westcliff’s features hardened in arrogant certainty. “Absolutely not.”
Daisy let out a huff of unsteady laughter. “Well,” she said, “I am willing to take your word, my lord, even if Mr. Waring is not.”
“By the time I’m finished with Waring…” Westcliff muttered, and shook his head. “Pardon. I will tell the servants to ready my carriage.”
As the earl strode away, Daisy stared up into Matthew’s face. “There’s so much I understand now,” she said. “Why you didn’t want to tell me.”
“Yes, I—” His voice was hoarse. “I knew it was wrong. I knew I would lose you when you found out.”
“You didn’t think I would understand?” Daisy asked gravely.
“You don’t know how it was before. No one would believe me. The facts didn’t matter. And having gone through that, I couldn’t believe anyone would ever have faith in my innocence.”
“Matthew,” she said simply, “I will always believe everything you tell me.”
“Why?” he whispered.
“Because I love you.”
The words devastated him. “You don’t have to say that. You don’t—”
“I love you,” Daisy insisted, gripping his waistcoat in her hands. “I should have said it before—I wanted to wait until you trusted me enough to stop hiding your past from me. But now that I know the worst—” She paused with a wry smile. “This is the worst, isn’t it? There’s nothing else you want to confess?”
Matthew nodded dazedly. “Yes. No. This is it.”
Her expression turned shy. “Aren’t you going to say you love me, too?”
“I haven’t the right,” he said. “Not until this is resolved. Not until my name is—”
“Tell me,” Daisy said, jerking his coat a little.
“I love you,” Matthew muttered. Holy hell, it felt good to say it to her.
She tugged again, this time as a gesture of possession, an assertion. Matthew resisted, his hands coming to her elbows, feeling the heat of her skin through the damp fabric of her dress. Despite the inappropriateness of the situation, his body pulsed with desire. Daisy, I don’t want to leave you…
“I’m coming to London too,” he heard her murmur.
“No. Stay here with your sister. I don’t want you to be part of this.”
“A bit late for that now, isn’t it? As your fiancee I have more than a passing interest in the outcome.”
Matthew lowered his head over hers, his mouth lightly touching her hair. “It will be more difficult for me if you’re there,” he said quietly. “I need to know you’re safe here in Hampshire.” Taking her hands from his waistcoat, he brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them ardently. “Go to the well for me tomorrow,” he whispered. “I’m going to need another five-dollar wish.”
In that moment Matthew realized the situation had gone far enough. He saw Waring’s hand dip into his coat pocket, the fabric sagging with some heavy object, and he saw the butt of a pistol. Of course. A gun was sound insurance in the event the constables proved ineffective.
“Wait,” Matthew said. He would say or do whatever was necessary to keep the pistol from being brought out. Once that happened, the confrontation would escalate to a degree of danger from which it would be impossible for anyone to back down. “I’ll go with you.” He stared at Waring, willing him to relax. “The process has been set in motion. God knows I can’t avoid it.”
“No,” Daisy cried, throwing her arms around his neck. “You won’t be safe with him.”
“We’ll leave right now,” Matthew told Waring, while he carefully disengaged Daisy’s grasp and pushed her behind the shield of his body.
“I can’t allow—” Westcliff began.
Matthew interrupted firmly. “It’s better this way.” He wanted the half-crazed Waring and the two constables away from StonyCrossPark. “I’ll go with them, and everything will be resolved in London. This isn’t the time or place for dispute.”
The earl swore quietly. An able tactician, Westcliff understood that for the moment he did not have the upper hand. This was not a battle that could be won by brute force. It would require money, legalities, and political wire-pulling.
“I’m coming to London with you,” Westcliff said curtly.
“Impossible,” Waring replied. “The carriage seats four. It will accommodate only myself, the constables, and the prisoner.”
“I will follow in my carriage.”
“I will accompany you,” Thomas Bowman said decisively.
Westcliff pulled Matthew aside, keeping his hand on his shoulder in a brotherly clasp as he spoke quietly. “I know the Bow Street magistrate quite well. I will see that you are brought before him as soon as we reach London—and at my request you will be discharged at once. We will stay at my private residence while we wait for a formal requisition from the American ambassador. In the meantime I will assemble a regiment of lawyers and every bit of political influence at my disposal.”
Matthew could barely trust himself to speak. “Thank you,” he managed.
“My lord,” Daisy whispered, “will they succeed in extraditing Matthew?”
Westcliff’s features hardened in arrogant certainty. “Absolutely not.”
Daisy let out a huff of unsteady laughter. “Well,” she said, “I am willing to take your word, my lord, even if Mr. Waring is not.”
“By the time I’m finished with Waring…” Westcliff muttered, and shook his head. “Pardon. I will tell the servants to ready my carriage.”
As the earl strode away, Daisy stared up into Matthew’s face. “There’s so much I understand now,” she said. “Why you didn’t want to tell me.”
“Yes, I—” His voice was hoarse. “I knew it was wrong. I knew I would lose you when you found out.”
“You didn’t think I would understand?” Daisy asked gravely.
“You don’t know how it was before. No one would believe me. The facts didn’t matter. And having gone through that, I couldn’t believe anyone would ever have faith in my innocence.”
“Matthew,” she said simply, “I will always believe everything you tell me.”
“Why?” he whispered.
“Because I love you.”
The words devastated him. “You don’t have to say that. You don’t—”
“I love you,” Daisy insisted, gripping his waistcoat in her hands. “I should have said it before—I wanted to wait until you trusted me enough to stop hiding your past from me. But now that I know the worst—” She paused with a wry smile. “This is the worst, isn’t it? There’s nothing else you want to confess?”
Matthew nodded dazedly. “Yes. No. This is it.”
Her expression turned shy. “Aren’t you going to say you love me, too?”
“I haven’t the right,” he said. “Not until this is resolved. Not until my name is—”
“Tell me,” Daisy said, jerking his coat a little.
“I love you,” Matthew muttered. Holy hell, it felt good to say it to her.
She tugged again, this time as a gesture of possession, an assertion. Matthew resisted, his hands coming to her elbows, feeling the heat of her skin through the damp fabric of her dress. Despite the inappropriateness of the situation, his body pulsed with desire. Daisy, I don’t want to leave you…
“I’m coming to London too,” he heard her murmur.
“No. Stay here with your sister. I don’t want you to be part of this.”
“A bit late for that now, isn’t it? As your fiancee I have more than a passing interest in the outcome.”
Matthew lowered his head over hers, his mouth lightly touching her hair. “It will be more difficult for me if you’re there,” he said quietly. “I need to know you’re safe here in Hampshire.” Taking her hands from his waistcoat, he brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them ardently. “Go to the well for me tomorrow,” he whispered. “I’m going to need another five-dollar wish.”
