“The dog already fled?” Nicholas asked Henry, when they finally broke away from the last guests offering their congratulations on his and Josephine’s wedding.

“Lord Beaumond was seen getting into his carriage, his bags atop the vehicle,” Henry said.

Nicholas snorted. “He’s an even bigger coward than I thought—not to mention a fool, if he thinks I will let this pass.”

“Is forcing the issue worth the possibility of leaving Lady Josephine without a husband-to-be?” Henry asked.

“Yes, but I have no fear of that happening. Beaumond is a terrible shot.” Nick saw the question in Henry’s eyes what about Josephine’s part in the matter? But didn’t answer. He glanced at her to see she was still well engaged with Lady Allaway and her sister. That would keep her out of trouble long enough for him to speak with her father. “Henry, I have some business to discuss with Montagu. Would you escort Jo to her room if I do not return?”

“Of course,” Henry, said, and Nicholas went in search of the marquess.

Fifteen minutes later, Nicholas found Jo’s father reading in a corner chair of the library and took a seat beside him.

Montagu’s gaze met his and he closed his book. “What has she done now?”

“She is a foolish girl,” Nicholas said more to himself than the marquess.

“Foolish enough to have finally convinced you to call off the wedding?”

“Nay,” he replied, and wondered what she could do that could force him to end the contract. Even seeing her sitting astride Beaumond half-naked, the possibility of ending things hadn’t crossed his mind—despite knowing that was exactly what she was trying to goad him into.

“Are ye certain you want to go through with the marriage?” Montagu asked. “I would not blame you one bit if you didn’t, and would not hold you to a single pound of the recompense.”

Marrying Jo had been all he’d been able to think about when he discovered she hadn’t married. He refused to consider life without her. Accepting that fate the first time had left a gaping hole in his heart that couldn’t be filled by any other woman.

Nicholas shook his head. “Nay. I stand by my word.”

“Come what may?” Montagu asked softly.

“Come what may.”

“She isn’t the girl you left behind, Grayson.”

Nick laughed mentally. And here, only minutes ago, he’d told Josephine she was the same girl. He remembered the look in her eyes when she’d first seen him after his return. A child’s wonder had given way to a woman’s hurt—then scorn. From that scorn was born a passion that he’d only glimpsed in the girl six years past. Tonight, he’d finally tasted of that hunger and knew it was but a hint of what she was capable of...of what she felt for him.

“She is grown,” Nicholas said.

Montagu gave a slow nod. “Grayson, I have never said it, but I deeply regret being against your marrying Josephine when you were young. Her betrothal to Helmsley was only a handshake between his father and me when they were young. Helmsley was older than you, more...settled. When I think of all the pain that would have been avoided...” His voice dropped off.

“I cannot blame you. I wasn’t the sort of man I would have wanted my daughter marrying either.” Nick couldn’t help a sad smile. “My father warned me my whoring ways wouldn’t serve me well. It seems he was right.”

“Our youthful ways seldom do any of us credit,” Montagu said. “But you are a man who will protect Josephine.” He regarded Nicholas with intense eyes. “You meant it then when you told me you loved her all those years ago.”

Nick slipped back to the moment he realized he loved Josephine. Their two families were gathered at her father’s home for her sixteenth birthday. Montagu presented her with the same pearls she wore tonight and something happened when he clasped them around her neck. Seeing the pearls against her alabaster skin started a tightening in Nick’s groin that turned ferocious when the smile she had given her father shifted onto him.

Her face beamed when she ran her fingertips over the pearls and Nicholas couldn’t halt the vision of those fingers skimming across his body. Then he realized with shock that the attraction was more than lust, more than passion. It was a need beyond any he had felt for a woman, any he had conceived of. He left that night frightened of his feelings, aware that her family intended her to wed another man. Aware he couldn’t allow that to happen.

“I did,” he replied.

A corner of Montagu’s mouth ticked upward. “I suppose if any man is going to suffer at her hand it should be you.”

Nicholas laughed. “Only a man who knows her should suffer?”

“Only a man who loves her might save her. Now, tell me, what has she done?”

“Beaumond has her in his sites.” Anger lashing through him—not at Jo, but at Beaumond, who knew better than to dally with her. “She allowed him to be alone with her in a small sitting room a little while ago.”

Montagu swore under his breath. “I assume no one else knows, or I would have heard the gossip by now.”

“Henry was with me when I discovered them, but he can be trusted. Speak with her Montagu.”

He sighed. “I will, though what more I can say I do not know.”

“Tell her that a man in love will not—cannot—release the woman he loves.” Nicholas shifted and looked in his eyes. “Tell her, if I am to live in Hell, it will be with her by my side.”

* * *

Josephine sat at her desk staring at the letter she’d been trying to write for the last hour when there came a commanding knock on the door. She thought of Nicholas and a frisson of sensual awareness sent gooseflesh prickling along her arm before good sense told her that Nick would never be so improper as to come to her bedchamber. Even if he did, that was the last thing she wanted. No, it was the very thing she wanted, but it would only give him the reason he needed to insist they marry immediately.

“Come in,” she called. The door opened and her father entered. Josephine rose. “Papa, is everything all right?”

“Of course. Can’t a father visit his daughter without something being wrong?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “But I expect that isn’t the case.”

He crossed to her and she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

He glanced at her desk. “Writing Cecile, I see.”

“Yes. I have been remiss.”

“I am sure she understands, and she is busy with her first son.”

Josephine motioned to the settee near the window and they sat down. “I haven’t seen her since she married. That has been two years. When might we visit them?”

“I imagine after you and Nicholas are married you will go. He tells me he plans to spend most of his time at Whitehaven. That is but a day’s ride from Cecile at Enrilth Castle. The two of you can see a great deal of one another.”

Josephine’s heart fell. Asking to visit Cecile had been an impulse, but the notion carried with it a great deal of hope. “That is some ways off,” she said. “Why not go ourselves?”

He gave her a gentle smile. “Not so far off that the trip north would be worthwhile.”

“Two months is ample time,” she said. Though not nearly ample enough.

“You and your mother have much planning yet to do for the wedding.” He paused, and she knew the reason for his visit was at hand. “Lass, I could not help noticing you’re still angry with Nicholas.”

“I am not angry with him,” she blurted.

“No? The marriage contract is signed, banns are read, and the wedding is two months away, yet you continue to snub him as you did when he first returned. I understood it then, at least somewhat, but now? Why, lass?”

“I made it clear I signed the contract under duress.”

Her father nodded. “So you said. But your mother and I both see how you look at him. And there’s no missing the way his eyes follow you the moment you enter the room.”

“I-I don’t know what you mean.”

“Nay? Are you saying you don’t know he loves you?”

“Even if he does that does not mean I have to love him back,” she said with heat.

“No,” her father agreed. “But you do. However, while your behavior toward him is extreme, we have noticed that you are not yourself.”

“That is ridiculous,” she said.

He shook his head. “You stopped going to parties. You seldom entertain friends. You quit asking to see friends as you just did Cecile—I am well aware, by the way, that your request to see her is an effort to avoid Nicholas.”

“Papa, honestly, you have an overactive imagination. I have simply grown tired of parties and female prattle.”

“Is that all?” he asked.

“Should my life consist of balls and pretty dresses?”

“That is a particularly fine day dress you are wearing,” he said.

“I do not have to be obsessed with fashion to dress reasonably well.”

He nodded. “I might agree, if not for the most puzzling thing of all.”

Her heart beat faster.

“Do you deny that there is something amiss between you and your mother?”

“What could possibly be wrong between Mamma and myself?” she asked.

“I wish I knew. I was certain at first, I was mistaken, but you avoid her company, and that is not like you.”

“Is it possible I’m telling the truth when I say I am simply unhappy at the prospect of marrying Nicholas?”

“You are unhappy, I grant you that,” he said. “As to marriage, you are three and twenty. ‘Tis past time you settled down and had children.”

The familiar ache rose in her breast and the burn of tears rose before she could stop it.

“Josephine,” her father said. “What is amiss, lass?”

His anxious face came into focus and she realized her expression had given away her sorrow. “I will not marry simply to have children,” she said.

She would not have children at all, in fact. And Nicholas deserved children—he also deserved not to be bled dry, which is what the man who was blackmailing her would do if she married Nick.

“You and Mamma love each other,” she said—though since discovering the truth, she wondered how her mother could love her father all these years and lie to him. “Do I not deserve to marry a man I love?”

“Aye, lass,” he said in a gentle voice. “But I know you too well. You love Nick. Now, you can tell me what’s bothering you or not, but I will not have a repeat of what happened this afternoon.”

She tensed. “What happened this afternoon?”

“I know you went to the west wing with Lord Beaumond.”

Josephine startled. Surely, Nick hadn’t told her father she had tried to seduce Lord Beaumond? “When did it become a crime to walk with a gentleman?” she asked.

“It is inappropriate for a young, unmarried woman to be alone with a man—as you know. I thank God Nicholas found you and not someone else.”

She seethed. Nicholas had the nerve to tell her father he’d found her with Beaumond, but she would wager he hadn’t said a word about what he had done to her. A tremor went through her with the memory.

“I am quite capable of taking care of myself,” she said, and Nicholas would soon learn that, for she would not allow him to touch her intimately again.

“On that we might disagree,” her father replied, his earlier compassion gone. “But you know that such behavior for a betrothed woman is scandalous. Beware,” he added, when she opened her mouth to interrupt, “you might think a scandal will cause Nicholas to cry off without consequence, but he is determined not to make the same mistake he made six years ago and let you go.”

Her pulse skittered at the thought of not being able to escape Nick, then her ire piqued at her own weakness, and she said, “Then he had better beware. For the girl he let go is no longer a girl.”

Her father’s expression hardened. “Aye, she isn’t. I will make myself plain, Daughter. If you are disloyal to Nicholas before your marriage, I will force you to marry the man with whom you dishonor yourself. Can you imagine yourself married to Beaumond?”

Jo gasped.

“So I thought,” he said. “And make no mistake, I will not risk you giving birth to a bastard. Have you forgotten that as the eldest daughter, the title and all our property passes through you?”

Nay, she thought bitterly. She hadn’t forgotten. That fact was half of what plagued her.

“Nicholas has proven himself worthy to run my estates and give you a son who can take my title along with his title,” her father went on. “I will not have you throw it away in a tantrum.”

“A tantrum—”

“You’re a grown woman acting like a spoilt child,” he cut her off. “I have had enough.” He rose. “Try me, and I will take even more drastic measures.”

Josephine’s heart pounded. What could be more drastic than forcing her to marry a man like Lord Beaumond?

Her father’s gaze sharpened on her. “You may wonder what can be worse than being forced to marry the man you duped into taking your chastity.”

Her father was right, she thought with frustration. He did know her too well.

He lifted a brow. “Perhaps it is marrying the man you love.”