“What the deuce is going on here? Masters, I thought you were in the study, waiting for Jarret.”
Minerva faced her brother with a forced smile. “Actually, he came to be interviewed.”
That was Giles’s cue. “Sorry for the subterfuge, old chap, but I thought you’d forgive it in this case.” He slipped his hand into the small of her back. “You see, your sister has made me the happiest of men. Minerva has finally agreed to be my wife.”
Chapter Three
Over my dead body!”
Hetty heard Oliver’s roar from two halls over and hurried toward it as fast as her cane could take her. He must have found Minerva. Damned girl. Why couldn’t she just marry some decent fellow and be done with it? Why did she have to drum up this nonsense about interviewing fools she solicited in the papers like a common whore?
Well, Oliver would put an end to that—he wouldn’t want Minerva marrying some stranger either, thank God.
She followed the sound of heated voices into the Chinese drawing room, then stopped short. Oliver was squared off against that rogue Giles Masters—God only knew when
he
had snuck in. And Minerva stood with her hand tucked in the crook of Giles’s elbow.
“What has happened?” Hetty demanded.
Oliver shot her an angry glance. “Masters has some idiotic idea that he’s going to marry Minerva.”
Hetty dragged in a breath. Masters? With her granddaughter? Never.
“Of course,” Oliver went on, “I’ve just informed him that it’s impossible.”
“You don’t get to decide that,” Minerva said stoutly. “I’mthe only one who decides whom I marry. Besides, you’ve been pressing me to marry just as much as Gran. So why should you care who I choose?”
“Because it’s
Masters,
” Oliver said, “and he’s—”
“A gentleman,” Minerva said.
“You have no idea what he is,” Oliver bit out. “Give me five minutes, and I can tell you stories that would blister your ears.”
“I’m sure you could,” Minerva said. “You’re probably in every one of them. Don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to malign his character when it’s no worse than your own has been?”
“Are you just going to let her go off with this scoundrel?” Oliver asked Hetty.
Minerva shot Hetty a sly glance. “You gave no rules for
whom
we could marry, Gran, just
when
we had to marry.”
“I don’t give a damn about Gran’s rules,” Oliver snapped. “You can’t marry Masters. As head of this household, I forbid it. He’s unworthy of you.”
“I’ll grant you that,” Masters said mildly. “But she doesn’t seem to agree, and that’s all that matters.”
Oliver’s fingers curled into fists at his side. “Angling after her inheritance, are you?”
Masters bristled. “Careful, Stoneville. We’ve been friends a long time, so just this once, I’ll excuse your insult to my honor. I have no designs on Minerva’s inheritance or her dowry. She can keep it all if she wishes. You can put that in the settlement.”
Hetty watched Minerva to see what response that got. The start the girl gave when the word
settlement
was spoken gave Hetty pause.
“So you mean to support her on a barrister’s pay?” Oliver snapped.
A dark flush rose in Masters’s face. “I can afford to keep a wife well enough, if that’s your concern.”
Could that be true? Masters
was
well known for his competence as a barrister, but many a man of the law spent his evenings in whorehouses and gaming hells, where his money drifted away like desert sands. By all reports, Masters was one of them.
Just then Jarret and Gabe came in. “We got rid of most of those fools,” Jarret said, “but some are—Masters? I thought you were in the study waiting for me.”
“No,” Oliver ground out. “He’s in here, coaxing Minerva into marrying him.”
“The hell he is!” Jarret growled at the same time that Gabe cried, “We’ll just see about that!”
The men began to close in on Masters, who stood there with an odd
Minerva faced her brother with a forced smile. “Actually, he came to be interviewed.”
That was Giles’s cue. “Sorry for the subterfuge, old chap, but I thought you’d forgive it in this case.” He slipped his hand into the small of her back. “You see, your sister has made me the happiest of men. Minerva has finally agreed to be my wife.”
Chapter Three
Over my dead body!”
Hetty heard Oliver’s roar from two halls over and hurried toward it as fast as her cane could take her. He must have found Minerva. Damned girl. Why couldn’t she just marry some decent fellow and be done with it? Why did she have to drum up this nonsense about interviewing fools she solicited in the papers like a common whore?
Well, Oliver would put an end to that—he wouldn’t want Minerva marrying some stranger either, thank God.
She followed the sound of heated voices into the Chinese drawing room, then stopped short. Oliver was squared off against that rogue Giles Masters—God only knew when
he
had snuck in. And Minerva stood with her hand tucked in the crook of Giles’s elbow.
“What has happened?” Hetty demanded.
Oliver shot her an angry glance. “Masters has some idiotic idea that he’s going to marry Minerva.”
Hetty dragged in a breath. Masters? With her granddaughter? Never.
“Of course,” Oliver went on, “I’ve just informed him that it’s impossible.”
“You don’t get to decide that,” Minerva said stoutly. “I’mthe only one who decides whom I marry. Besides, you’ve been pressing me to marry just as much as Gran. So why should you care who I choose?”
“Because it’s
Masters,
” Oliver said, “and he’s—”
“A gentleman,” Minerva said.
“You have no idea what he is,” Oliver bit out. “Give me five minutes, and I can tell you stories that would blister your ears.”
“I’m sure you could,” Minerva said. “You’re probably in every one of them. Don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to malign his character when it’s no worse than your own has been?”
“Are you just going to let her go off with this scoundrel?” Oliver asked Hetty.
Minerva shot Hetty a sly glance. “You gave no rules for
whom
we could marry, Gran, just
when
we had to marry.”
“I don’t give a damn about Gran’s rules,” Oliver snapped. “You can’t marry Masters. As head of this household, I forbid it. He’s unworthy of you.”
“I’ll grant you that,” Masters said mildly. “But she doesn’t seem to agree, and that’s all that matters.”
Oliver’s fingers curled into fists at his side. “Angling after her inheritance, are you?”
Masters bristled. “Careful, Stoneville. We’ve been friends a long time, so just this once, I’ll excuse your insult to my honor. I have no designs on Minerva’s inheritance or her dowry. She can keep it all if she wishes. You can put that in the settlement.”
Hetty watched Minerva to see what response that got. The start the girl gave when the word
settlement
was spoken gave Hetty pause.
“So you mean to support her on a barrister’s pay?” Oliver snapped.
A dark flush rose in Masters’s face. “I can afford to keep a wife well enough, if that’s your concern.”
Could that be true? Masters
was
well known for his competence as a barrister, but many a man of the law spent his evenings in whorehouses and gaming hells, where his money drifted away like desert sands. By all reports, Masters was one of them.
Just then Jarret and Gabe came in. “We got rid of most of those fools,” Jarret said, “but some are—Masters? I thought you were in the study waiting for me.”
“No,” Oliver ground out. “He’s in here, coaxing Minerva into marrying him.”
“The hell he is!” Jarret growled at the same time that Gabe cried, “We’ll just see about that!”
The men began to close in on Masters, who stood there with an odd
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