Notorious Pleasures (Maiden Lane #2)(80)

“My dear, far be it for me to stop you seeking solace from your brother, but wouldn’t it be better to wait a while until he has had time to properly, er, digest the news?”

“And what do you think he’ll do then?” Hero demanded as she shoved her feet into the slippers. Her hair must be a mess! She rushed to the mirror to look.

“Do? You mean…?” Cousin Bathilda gasped.

Hero turned and saw from the blanched expression on the other woman’s face that at last she’d realized the peril. Without her marriage to Thomas to stop him, Maximus would attack Griffin—or worse.

She nodded and gave her hair a distracted pat. It would simply have to do—she didn’t have the time to wait for it to be dressed again. “He’ll want to do something, perhaps even something violent. And frankly I’ve had enough male violence for today.”

She dashed out of the room and down the stairs, then had to pause in the front hall while a carriage was called.

“Wait for me, dear,” Cousin Bathilda panted behind her. She held Mignon in her arms like a shield.

“He’s bound to be in a terrible mood,” Hero said. “You needn’t accompany me.”

Cousin Bathilda lifted her chin. “I’ve taken care of all of you since your parents’ death. I’ll not let you face him without me. Besides,” she added a bit more prosaically, “it may take two females to calm him.”

The thought did not make Hero more cheerful, but she entered the carriage with determination.

Half an hour later, they were knocking on the door of Wakefield House, the imposing residence her father had built. He’d expected to raise his family here, but only Maximus inhabited the grand town house now.

A flustered butler opened the door, his back straightening at the sight of her. “My lady, I don’t think…”

Hero pushed past him and turned. “Where is my brother?”

“His Grace is in his private rooms, but—”

Hero nodded briskly and mounted the stairs. Normally she would never invade Maximus’s bedroom, but the circumstances were extraordinary.

As it turned out, his door was open, a secretary scurrying out like a chastised dog.

Hero took a deep breath and entered the room.

Maximus was in his shirtsleeves, bent over a desk, writing something. Three other men stood in the room, including Craven, Maximus’s long-time valet. Craven was tall and thin and looked more like a coffin-maker than a valet, dressed as he was all in black.

He saw her and Cousin Bathilda and turned to Maximus. “Your Grace.”

Maximus looked up and met Hero’s gaze.

“Leave us,” he said to the servants.

Craven ushered the other men from the room, closing the door behind him.

Maximus stood and crossed to her. He stared down into her face, his own curiously blank.

Then he touched a finger to her aching cheek. “He’ll die for this.”

She wasn’t sure which “he” Maximus referred to, but it hardly mattered. “No, he won’t.”

He frowned and half turned toward his desk again. “I’ve already sent my seconds to Reading. The matter is settled.”

Cousin Bathilda drew in her breath and moaned softly.

Hero caught his arm. “Then call them back.”

He raised his eyebrows. Maximus was a duke, after all. No one talked to him thusly, not even she.

But this was life or death.

“I don’t want a duel,” she told him, holding his eyes firmly. “I don’t want any more violence, and I certainly don’t want a death.”

“It does not concern you.”

“It most certainly does!” she said. “I am the one responsible for Mandeville’s rage. I am the one who chose to give away my virtue and cause this problem.”

He shook his head. “Hero—”

“No, listen,” she said low. “I am ashamed of what I’ve done, but I will not let shame make me hide from the consequences. Call back your seconds, Maximus. Don’t fight a duel that will ruin you on my behalf. I don’t think I could bear to live with that.”

He gazed at her silently for a moment, then crossed to the door and cracked it open. Craven must still have been waiting outside, because Maximus held a murmured conversation before closing the door again and coming back to her.

“I do this for you,” he said. “Only for you, and I do not promise that I will not pursue a duel at a later date if I feel this matter is not adequately settled.”

Hero swallowed. It was a great concession, even if it was only a partial one. “Thank you.”

“Thank God!” Cousin Bathilda pronounced, and plopped into a chair.

Maximus nodded and crossed to the desk. “Now, we must settle how soon you can marry Mandeville. I’ve no doubt the servants will have started gossiping over this morning’s affair already.”

Alarm climbed Hero’s spine. “Maximus—”

He frowned down at the papers on his desk. “No doubt he’s upset about your liaison with his brother, but I think he will come around when he has a chance to think. The marriage settlement was very much to his liking, after all.”

“Maximus!” she repeated a little desperately.

Her brother looked up, frowning.