Page 23 of Marriage with a Proper Stranger

Riordan turned to face his uncle. “The meal will have to wait. I have a favor to ask of you. All you need to do is stand next to me and look menacing.”

Garrett cocked an eyebrow. “Does the wretch deserve to be menaced?”

“Yes. He does.”

Garrett stood. “What are we waiting for?”

“First, I must ask you not to repeat to grandfather and father anything that happens or anything you hear. Rest assured I will attend the first of November’s family meeting and reveal all. I have already asked the board and was granted a personal day.”

“Jesus, what in hell are you doing?”

“I’m assisting someone in dire need. It is what we do as a family, is it not?” Riordan gave Garrett a brief smile. “The wretch in question is a marquess. There is a baron involved. And his daughter, the widow of an earl.”

Garrett closed his eyes. “Aw, hell.”

Riordan wrapped his wool muffler about his neck. “It could become messy. But I gave my word to the lady in question.”

Garrett’s eyes snapped open. “The widow? Again I ask: what the bloody hell are you doing?”

Riordan marched toward the door. “Rescuing a damsel in distress. It is too bad the horse isn’t white, but I will ride up on a noble steed nonetheless.”

Garrett grabbed his cloak and followed Riordan outside. The heavy rain had turned into a light mist, but the road into town was muddy and full of ruts. A nondescript brick building, the Carrbury Inn, came into sight. After handing off their horses to a young lad, Riordan pulled Garrett aside. “Go inside and ask for the Marquess of Sutherhorne. Tell him the Earl of Carnstone awaits him. I better not go inside, as the innkeeper sits on the education board. Having the schoolmaster threaten a peer would definitely be cause for dismissal.”

Garrett arched an eyebrow. “You think? I bloody well hope you know what you’re doing, Nephew.” With a grunt of disbelief, his uncle headed into the inn.

Actually, he had no idea what he was doing. He did not make a habit of threatening anyone, but could rise to the occasion if needed. No one stood in his way once his mind was made up. An unfortunate family trait, but it came in handy for their progressive causes. And this was a significant cause. Women should never be treated as property or chattel with no rights of their own.

Garrett stepped outside, bending slightly to allow the doorframe to accommodate his height. “Well, the message has been delivered. Now to see if he comes on his own. He does have a couple of men with him, no doubt his valet and a coach driver. I suppose you will do the talking and I will threaten bodily harm.”

“Yes. Thanks for this, Garrett. I will explain a little more when we return to the cottage.”

“Carnstone? Where are you, man? And what is the meaning of dragging me away from my warm fire—”

Garrett growled, clasped the marquess’s arm, and pulled him into the shadows of the alley next to the inn.

The older man stammered in protest. He had come out alone, a lucky occurrence. “Sorry, no Carnstone. You are to leave this vicinity immediately. There will be no marriage between you and Lady Pepperdon.” Riordan barked, though he kept his tone as quiet as possible in order to not be overheard.

“You insolent blackguard. Who are you to make demands?” Garrett growled once again, grabbed a fistful of the old man’s coat, and lifted him bodily from the ground. It looked to be no hardship, as the man probably weighed nothing more than a leafless twig. Sutherhorne cried out, struggling to free himself from Garrett’s tight grip to no avail.

“No one of significance, but know that my friend here will break you in half over his knee like a rotten piece of kindling if you do not agree to depart. Tonight.” Riordan paused. “But not before you write a note to the baron withdrawing your suit. How much is he paying you for a settlement?”

The marquess stopped struggling and glared at him. Riordan stayed in shadow and hoped his face was obscured from any possible identification. “Paying me? I am paying him!” Sutherhorne snapped.

Riordan’s insides twisted at the news. “There is no money?”

“No, there isn’t. Durning makes a habit of selling his daughter. He held a secret auction the first time around, I was there…and lost. Not again. I ensured I’m the only one in the running, as I offered him eighteen thousand pounds, which is to be paid before the marriage takes place. The baron and I have a deal, in writing, you cannot…”

Secret auction? Riordan could not believe his ears. Though Sabrina had said she was sold to the highest bidder, he’d thought it was merely a turn of phrase. Yet she’d spoken of a dowry paid to Pepperdon. Where did the truth lie? God, what a mess. “I can and I will. Since you have not paid for her yet, you can easily withdraw from the transaction. I have powerful friends, and I will let it be known that you were involved in illegal doings.”

Sutherhorne squeaked as Garrett lifted him higher. “Call off your damned beast! I will write the letter and leave tonight. But know this: I will find out who you are, and you will pay for interfering. Both of you. This I promise.” The last sentence dripped with menace. They had made an enemy here tonight.

“Take him inside to write the note.”

Garrett gruffly lowered the marquess, then commenced dragging him toward the inn. His uncle was certainly playing his role with a good deal of relish. Riordan ducked farther into the darkened alley and waited.

One statement was startling: if Sutherhorne was paying to marry Sabrina, there would be no dowry or settlement. How in hell could he break the news to her? Things had already been set into motion; there was no going back on the plan now. “Habit of selling his daughter…secret auction.” Which meant Pepperdon had paid for her as well. Disgusting, arrogant men, bartering for a young lady. Again, no dowry or settlement. It explained why Pepperdon had left her penniless. The late earl had obviously decided she did not deserve it, since he’d laid out a good deal of capital in order to marry her. Damn it all. He believed Sabrina was truly ignorant of these facts.

If the earl wasn’t already moldering in a grave, he would have ensured he be put there without hesitation. Both the marquess and the baron deserved the same fate. The potency of his growing anger alarmed him. Never had he come this close to committing murder.