another.”
Toby straightened and set his jaw. “Fine with me.”
“And call me Gray.” Gray indicated a chair as he rounded the desk to settle in his own.
“Everyone does, even my enemies.”
Toby smiled as he smoothed his trousers and took his seat. “Isabel doesn’t. She calls you Dolly.”
Instantly, the tension in the room leapt to a new plateau. Gray’s narrowed eyes became slits.
Then he leaned back in his chair and gave Toby a cold smile. “I’ve been curious to meet you, Sir Toby Aldridge.”
“And I, you. Gray.”
“It’s an interesting position I’m in.” Gray ran a fingertip along the edge of his blotter. “I wonder if you can appreciate it. Here before me sits the man who let a remarkable, beautiful woman slip through his fingers last December. I revile you for that idiocy; yet I must also thank you for it. Your mistake was my good fortune.”
“My discretion is your good fortune.”
Their gazes locked.
“Yes,” Gray finally said, “I’m aware of that. But just when I am determined that I must push aside my extreme loathing for an otherwise contemptible ass and express some gratitude”—he suddenly shot to his feet and strode to the window—“the contemptible ass manages to seduce my baby sister.”
“Now see here,” Toby said coolly. “You may have all the contempt for me you wish, but there is only one seducer in this room. You’re the blackguard who absconded with my intended bride. At least I’m here offering for Isabel properly. Honorably. Do you seriously expect me to grovel and plead for the dubious pleasure of becoming your brother?”
Gray turned from the window. “I already have a brother. I don’t need another.”
“Well, then one wonders why you are bringing your sister out. It would prove difficult to marry Isabel off without acquiring one.” Toby ran a hand through his hair. “Can a man get a drink in this house?”
“A drink? Before noon?” Gray crossed to the bar and uncorked a bottle. “Well, there’s one point in your favor.” He handed Toby a snifter of brandy and started pouring another for himself. “The papers have a lot to say about you.”
“They have a lot to say about you, too,” Toby said, thinking of the exalted praise England’s newest knight had enjoyed over past weeks. “I know better than to believe them. You’re quite the hero, Gray. Tell me, while you were braving fire, storm, sharks, and smugglers to rescue that boatload of helpless kittens and schoolgirls … was it a two-headed sea serpent you wrestled into submission? Or did it have three heads?”
“Four,” Gray said coolly. “Well then, let’s get to the heart of the matter, shall we? May I assume you know how I rebuilt my family’s fortune and amassed the generous dowry you would waltz away with in the course of an evening?”
“Privateering, I understand.”
“Yes, privateering. Sanctioned piracy. I’m a respectable shipping merchant now, but I’ve years of cheating, stealing, and bloodshed in my past. I don’t like violence, but I’m not above it. I sank ships and spilled men’s blood, all so my brother might have a profession and Bel could marry well. We may be of different mothers, but we are all Graysons, all family.” Gray drained his brandy and sent the glass clattering to his desk. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Toby with an intense glare. “Family is everything to me. If you hurt my sister, I will gleefully kill you.”
Toby paused. He had no doubt in his mind that Gray meant that threat. Not only meant it, but would make good on it, even if doing so sent him to the gallows and they ended up sharing a hackney to hell. “Fortunately for my neck and yours, I’ve no intention of hurting Isabel,” he said smoothly. “I’m going to marry her.”
Gray shook his head. “At most, you’re engaged to her. Engagements can be broken.”
Oh no, he didn’t. Not again. Toby would be damned if he’d let this man break up
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