and gave me the chance to speak to him and Lady Melinda. I should have excused myself and left immediately afterward. But I stayed, not that I had much choice. Lady Melinda had no intention of letting me go, and Lady Withnall seemed to be in agreement with her. I think the duke just wanted to throttle me.”
“Oh, dear.” Her mother put a hand to her throat. “I hope you haven’t made an enemy of him.”
Heather rolled her eyes. “He had better hold his tongue, or he’ll make an enemy of me. But no, he’s a smart man and loves his daughter. He will do whatever he can to see Melinda happy, and in this matter, he knows I will do all I can to help him.”
Dahlia cast her a grim look. “Assuming there is anything possible to be done in these final hours. They are a pair, Melinda and Tilbury. They’re so caught up in their own schemes, they can’t see how much they are hurting each other and everyone around them.”
Her father rose and turned to face them all. “Schemes or not, our lives will be ruined if you do not go through with the wedding. Have you no consideration for your mother or for myself? He shall destroy us socially, financially, and in every other way possible. We shall be pariahs in York.”
Heather had worried about precisely this. It was the only hold Tilbury had on her. “Captain MacLauren’s family would always welcome you.”
Her father was unmoved. In truth, he was turning apoplectic. “And what are we to do up in Caithness? Toss cabers and listen to the whine of those annoying bagpipes? No, Heather. You do not have our consent to break it off with the marquess. You will show up tomorrow morning at St. Mary’s and exchange wedding vows with that man.”
Her sisters looked stricken, but she held them off when they sought to defend her. “I appreciate the effort. It’s all right. I understand what I must do.”
Her father sank back in his seat beside her mother. “That’s right. You just remember your duty to your mother and me.”
Her mother glanced up as though suddenly struck by a thought. “We’ve never met your marquess. Holly, I think you must invite him over to meet us tonight.”
She, Holly, and Dahlia stared at each other, stunned.
Heather did not know whether to laugh or cry. How could they consider such a thing after all she’d told them? Well, crying was out of the question because she’d already shed too many tears. So, she laughed.
Then her sisters began to laugh.
Joshua and Ronan walked in to find them holding their sides, tears of mirth streaming down their cheeks.
“Love, are you all right?” Joshua asked Holly.
She nodded and told them the reason, as well as all else that had happened.
“Oh, hell.” Ronan groaned and went to the sideboard to pour himself a stiff drink. “Where’s Robbie?”
“I kicked him out,” her father said with uncalled for smug satisfaction because they all knew Robbie would not have left unless it suited his purpose to go.
Joshua understood this and turned to Heather. “Where is he now?”
“He said he was returning to his townhouse.” She thought on it a moment. “Well, what he said precisely was to send word to him at the Caithness townhouse if I had need of him.”
Ronan nodded. “Do you think he’s there now?”
Heather shook her head. “No, he hasn’t given up on changing Tilbury’s mind. But I sense he’s through with negotiation.”
She cast a wincing glance at her parents before returning her gaze to her two brothers-in-law. “As I said, no more negotiation. He’s primed for open warfare.”
Her mother gasped. “Warfare? And you’ve encouraged this? What will he do to the marquess?”
Chapter Sixteen
Heather glanced up at the sky the following morning as she descended Uncle John’s carriage to enter St. Mary’s Church. The sky was a glorious deep blue that jumped out and smacked you in the face with its brightness and clarity. Such skies only occurred in late spring or early autumn before the haze of heat or bleakness of winter set in.
“Are you ready, Heather?” Aunt Sophie asked, giving her hand a light pat.
“Yes.” It did not seem fair this ignominious day should be so bright and clear, or the breeze so light and gently warming on her skin.
Well, if she decided to make a run to Scotland with Robbie, it couldn’t hurt to be running in good weather.
“You look beautiful, my dear,” Uncle John said, kissing