Her words failed her because having so recently escaped his hold, the very name Oswald felt dirty on her tongue.
Curan suffered no such difficulty; his voice cracked like a whip.
“To send her to court to wed Lord Oswald.” Rage edged each word, but her father looked angrier after hearing them, if such a thing were possible. Rage drew him up straighter, and he shook with it.
“What manner of trickery is this?” He pointed at Curan. “I keep my word, sir. Never once have I been a man of deception, even if I serve at this court. The match was sealed and blessed. I do not break such promises, and I am stunned to discover you think that I might do so without the application of the rack to force me into false words.”
Curan shook his head. “I arrived to discover her trunks packed and your wife telling me that I would have to seek you in London because you had arranged another match for your daughter.”
“I never wrote such a letter, would not have written such a letter.” Her father remained steadfast in his position. The difficulty was that Curan was just as determined. Tension was twisting tighter and tighter, promising to snap at any moment. They were the two men she loved the most in her life; she had to discover a solution. There had to be an explanation.
“The letter had your seal upon it, Father.” Bridget wanted both of them to be right, but that was not possible. “I watched Mother break it with my own eyes.”
Her father reached up and clamped his hands around the turned-back front of his half coat. His fingers dug into the wool while he appeared to contemplate the situation. His face suddenly became sad, as though he had just heard that a friend had died unexpectedly.
“There is only one man who might have written that letter and convinced my captain to have it delivered unto my wife.” He drew in a deep breath and let it go. “Even so, it is my fault. I shall not deny the blame, Lord Ryppon, for my family is my first duty. There is no excuse for such a lapse. Thank the Lord God for his intercession in this matter.”
Curan lost his condemning expression. He hooked his hands into his belt and studied Lord Connolly. The muscle that had been twitching along the side of his jaw eased.
“You suspect your secretary?”
“There can be no other culprit. He is the only man who might ever dispatch my captain onto the road. He is also the only man I have ever given my signet ring to while I bathed.” Her father shook his head, more sadness entering his eyes. But he drew himself up stiffly. “I owe you a great deal, Lord Ryppon, and am glad to see you are every inch of the man I thought you to be when I selected your offer for my daughter.”
Her father reached out and stroked her cheek, a smile brightening his features. Bridget felt herself returning it because no one made her heart warm as her sire did.
Except Curan.
“I know that there is a great fascination with sons, yet I will tell you that I cherish my daughter. God only blessed me with one, but he has graciously allowed me to watch her grow into womanhood. It is a gift that I thank him for each day.”
Her father looked back at Curan.
“I would never allow her here at court, even when she asked me to bring her when she was too young to know what she was saying. This place steals the sparkle from the eyes of the innocent and true of heart. Wriothesley knows that and hoped that I might not suspect that any rumors of her arrival were true.” He faltered, his voice becoming hard and angry once more. “That I would not have investigated those rumors until it was too late. I am happy to say that the chancellor does not know me as well as he believes.”
“Your daughter sent him off with a fit that will likely be legend before supper is served.”
“She did?”
Her father looked at her with new respect.
“Why, Bridget, that is perfect. Wriothesley can save face and you may depart without worry that he will bother you ever again. How brilliant you are, my girl, and how unselfish to sacrifice your own reputation.”
“I threw a fit, Father. Your daughter will be known as a brat. I shamed you and Mother.”
“But you will be away from here with no one’s ego offended. That is no easy task, my girl. I battle such every day. It was brilliant, I say—brilliant.”
She couldn’t help but smile; her father’s praise meant too much to her. It always had.
Lord Connolly drew himself up. “Now do as you promised me, Lord Ryppon, and take my daughter north.”
“Yes, sir.”
It was by far the most docile tone of voice Bridget had ever heard pass her husband’s lips. Curan offered her father a reverence that he truly meant. She witnessed the respect shining in his dark eyes.
“Good-bye, Father. You must come to Amber Hill and see me.”
“I shall come soon, Daughter.” Her father shared a look with Curan.
“Too soon and yet not soon enough. Now please excuse me, I must attend to a difficult matter.”
Lord Connolly turned and left, his posture stiff, but he rubbed his signet ring and took to the distance in front of him with a determined speed.
“I am relieved.” Her husband reached out and curled his hand around her, pulling her close with a sigh. “Greatly so. For I like your father.”
“I love him.”
One dark eyebrow rose. It was subtle and yet so very telling, coming from such a strong man. Bridget placed her hands on his chest and smoothed them up and over the hard ridges that delighted her so.
