“Lenore isn’t going anywhere,” Freddy said. “She’s my fiancée, and as long as she wishes to stay here, I’ll stand by her.”
Lenore’s burst of affection for Freddy was clipped short as Bart growled, “Yeah, well, she’s my wife, and the law says she’s got to do as she’s told.”
“I’m not sure your Wyoming laws apply in Great Britain,” Reese said, perhaps a little too imperiously, given the circumstances, but with a strength Lenore was grateful for.
“I don’t give a hoot about what you Brits think is or isn’t legal,” Bart snorted. “Lenore is my wife, and it’s about time we headed home.”
“I’ve thought about it, Bart, and I’ve decided I’m not going anywhere with you,” Lenore said. She attempted to show her resistance by calmly drinking her tea, as any good Englishwoman would do, but the cup shook so much as she attempted to raise it to her lips that she quickly put it down again. “I told you what I wanted yesterday, an annulment, and I stand by that.”
A moment later, Mr. Tilney appeared in the parlor’s doorway and cleared his throat. “Mr. Mercer is here, my lord.”
Before Reese could tell Mr. Tilney to let him in, Phin strode into the room. His anxious expression hardened to pure rage when he saw Bart was there. Even so, Lenore was so relieved to see him she could have wept.
“Mr. Mercer,” Reese greeted him with a formality that would have made Lenore laugh in any other situation. She could see by the way Reese used them now, proper British manners were one of the sharpest weapons he had. “Please join us. We were just attempting to convince Mr. Swan to leave England.”
“And to grant Lenore an annulment,” Freddy added.
Phin took a breath where he stood and glanced from Reese and Freddy to Lenore to Bart, and then back to Lenore. “I see,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back. “And have you had any luck?”
“I’m not going anywhere and I’m not giving up what’s mine,” Bart announced, standing and taking a few steps to stand near Phin. It was clear his aim was to intimidate Phin, but Phin had a good four inches on him. Bart was twice as broad, though, and with muscle, not excess fat. All in all, Lenore didn’t like the picture he painted. “My wife would do well to obey and get the hell out of this dollhouse right away.” He finished by glaring at Lenore.
“Please, just leave me alone, Bart.” Lenore set her teacup on the table and pressed her fingers to her temples. “Everyone here knows that the second I leave this house with you, you’ll kill me.”
“Now why would I want to do a thing like that to my pretty wife,” Bart growled in a voice that implied murder would be the least of her worries if Bart extracted her from her protectors.
“You think that saying things like that and in that manner is going to persuade any of us to let Lenore out of our sight for so much as a second?” Phin asked, pulling himself to his full height and towering above Bart.
“It will if you know what’s good for you,” Bart said in return, narrowing his eyes.
“Gentlemen, please,” Lenore begged them. “Sit down so that we can come to some sort of an agreement about how to move forward.”
“The only way I’m leaving is if you come with me, sweetie,” Bart said, moving back to his chair and sitting as though he owned all of London.
“And Lenore is in no way going with you,” Freddy said, grabbing Lenore’s hand again. “Ever.”
Lenore was still grateful for the gesture, but with Phin there now, she would much rather he be the one to hold her and comfort her. As it was, she couldn’t even tell if he had forgiven her. He’d stated that he wouldn’t let Bart take her, but that wasn’t the same as forgiveness.
A brittle silence followed. It stretched on for so long that Lenore wasn’t sure what to do. She still roiled with suspicion about Bart’s true reason for pursuing her. It had to be the money. He couldn’t truly care one whit for her. But she couldn’t work out how to get the brute to tip his cards. And aside from that, something had to be done to fill the space before it ignited and the four men broke into a brawl worthy of any London pub or Haskell saloon. Lenore had been around Englishwomen long enough to feel as though it were her responsibility to keep things moving as calmly as possible.
“Phin, have you had a chance to visit your brother since returning to London?” Lionel Mercer had said he would investigate Bart, after all. Perhaps he’d discovered something that might help them.
“I visited him last night,” Phin said, moving awkwardly to sit in the free chair. Reese resumed his seat as well as Phin went on with, “We had a long and interesting discussion. Lionel would like you to host a ball this weekend.”
Lenore blinked. It was absolutely the last thing she would have expected anyone to say. “I’m sorry, but he wants me to host a ball?”
“Yes.” Phin nodded. “Saturday would be best. Here, or perhaps at Lady O’Shea’s house.”
Lenore’s mouth dropped open, but she couldn't think of a single thing to say in response to the outlandish request.
“She can’t do it,” Bart answered for her. “We’ll be on a ship headed home by then.”
“You most certainly will not,” Freddy scoffed, inching closer to Lenore.
“We’re leaving as soon as the next ship sails,” Bart said. “Isn’t that right, pumpkin?”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Lenore snapped, then thought better of it. She glanced to
