But one such as me, Jack wanted to say. But for once it did not seem the time or the place for a light, sly quip.
And then Wyndham-Thomas, Jack suddenly decided he wished to call him-stared the earl down and said, “You may call me Mr. Cavendish, if you so desire. If you think it might help you to accustom yourself to the idea.”
It was exactly what Jack would have wanted to say. If he’d been in Thomas’s shoes. If he’d thought of it.
But the earl was not cowed by the sarcastic rebuke. He glared at Thomas, practically shaking as he hissed, “I will not allow my daughter to be cheated. If you do not prove to be the right and lawful Duke of Wyndham, you may consider the betrothal null and void.”
“As you wish,” Thomas said curtly. He made no argument, no indication that he might wish to fight for his betrothed.
Jack looked over at Lady Amelia, then looked away. There were some things, some emotions, a gentleman could not watch.
But when he turned back, he found himself face-to-face with the earl. Her father. And the man’s finger was pointed at his chest.
“If that is the case,” he said, “if you are the Duke of Wyndham, then you will marry her.”
It took a great deal to render Jack Audley speechless. This, however, had done it.
When he regained his voice, after a rather unattractive choking sound he assumed had come from his throat, he managed the following:
“Oh. No.”
“Oh, you will,” Crowland warned him. “You will marry her if I have to march you to the altar with my blunderbuss at your back.”
“Father,” Lady Amelia cried out, “you cannot do this.”
Crowland ignored his daughter completely. “My daughter is betrothed to the Duke of Wyndham, and the Duke of Wyndham she will marry.”
“I am not the Duke of Wyndham,” Jack said, recovering some of his composure.
“Not yet. Perhaps not ever. But I will be present when the truth comes out. And I will make sure she marries the right man.”
Jack took his measure. Lord Crowland was not a feeble man, and although he did not exude quite the same haughty power as Wyndham, he clearly knew his worth and his place in society. He would not allow his daughter to be wronged.
Jack respected that. If he had a daughter, he supposed he’d do the same. But not, he hoped, at the expense of an innocent man.
He looked at Grace. Just for a moment. Fleeting, but he caught the expression in her eyes, the subdued horror at the unfolding scene.
He would not give her up. Not for any bloody title, and certainly not to honor someone else’s betrothal contract.
“This is madness,” Jack said, looking around the room, unable to believe that he was the only one speaking in his defense. “I do not even know her.”
“That is hardly a concern,” Crowland said gruffly.
“You are mad,” Jack exclaimed. “I am not going to marry her.” He looked quickly at Amelia, then wished he hadn’t. “My pardons, my lady,” he practically mumbled. “It is not personal.”
Her head jerked a bit, fast and pained. It wasn’t a yes, or a no, but more of a stricken acknowledgment, the sort of motion one made when it was all one was capable of.
It ripped Jack straight through his gut.
No, he told himself. This is not your responsibility. You do not have to make it right.
And all around him, no one said a word in his defense. Grace, he understood, since it was not her position to do so, but by God, what about Wyndham? Didn’t he care that Crowland was trying to give his fiancée away?
But the duke just stood there, still as a stone, his eyes burning with something Jack could not identify.
“I did not agree to this,” Jack said. “I signed no contract.” Surely that had to mean something.
“Neither did he,” Crowland responded, with a shrug in Wyndham’s direction. “His father did it.”
“In his name,” Jack fairly yelled.
“That is where you are wrong, Mr. Audley. It did not specify his name at all. My daughter, Amelia Honoria Rose, was to marry the seventh Duke of Wyndham.”
“Really?” This, finally, from Thomas.
“Have you not looked at the papers?” Jack demanded.
“No,” Thomas said simply. “I never saw the need.”
“Good God,” Jack swore, “I have fallen in with a band of bloody idiots.”
No one contradicted him, he noticed. He looked desperately to Grace, who had to be the one sane member of humanity left in the building. But she would not meet his eyes.
That was enough. He had to put an end to this. He stood straight and looked hard into Lord Crowland’s face. “Sir,” he said, “I will not marry your daughter.”
“Oh, you will.”
But this was not said by Crowland. It was Thomas, stalking across the room, his eyes burning with barely contained rage. He did not stop until they were nearly nose-to-nose.
“What did you say?” Jack asked, certain he’d heard incorrectly. From all he had seen, which, admittedly, wasn’t much, Thomas rather liked his little fiancée.
“This woman,” Thomas said, motioning back to Amelia, “has spent her entire life preparing to be the Duchess of Wyndham. I will not permit you to leave her life in shambles.”
Around them the room went utterly still.
Except for Amelia, who looked ready to crumble.
“Do you understand me?”
And Jack…Well, he was Jack, and so he simply lifted his brows, and he didn’t quite smirk, but he was quite certain that his smile clearly lacked sincerity. He looked Thomas in the eye.