was in for. Bart’s booming baritone sounded right along with Reese’s mellifluous tenor in the parlor. It was clear the men were arguing.
“…without proof of the things you say, you are merely engaging in slander.” Reese stood near the fireplace, his back as stiff and straight as any well-bred Englishman, as he glared at Bart.
“You want proof? I can give you proof,” Bart growled back from where he was splayed in one of Reese’s finely-upholstered chairs, as if it were a table at a saloon.
He looked as out of place as could be in the sophisticated parlor. It wasn’t that Bart was a ruffian, like the ranch hands both he and Lenore’s father employed. Bart’s suit was expensive enough, and the silver watch chain that looped from a buttonhole to the pocket of his waistcoat was an indicator of how much wealth the Swan family had. But the way Bart lounged and the utter contempt for everything around him that radiated off of him marked the man as part of a different culture entirely.
“Saying you’re married to Lenore doesn’t constitute proof,” Freddy snapped from the far side of the room, where he appeared to be pacing. “Unless you can produce a marriage license, I won’t believe it.”
Lenore cleared her throat, and instantly, all three men snapped their attention to her.
“There’s your proof,” Bart said, rising from his chair so fast Lenore was tempted to take a step back. The laughable thing was that Bart was short—shorter even than Lenore—and squat, though he had the musculature of a man who worked hard for a living. His arms alone were as thick as Freddy’s thighs. He didn’t necessarily look like a murderer, but Lenore had proof to the contrary. “You want a marriage license?” he went on, glancing from Freddy to Lenore. “The bitch stole it when she ran out on me, and as like as not, she probably still has it.”
“Lenore, you’re home.” Freddy broke away from his pacing to stride across the room and sweep Lenore into his arms. The gesture was so sweet and protective that Lenore nearly burst into tears then and there. Reese also crossed the room to stand by her side.
“Freddy.” It was all Lenore could manage to say until she swallowed the lump in her throat. Even then, the only words she could produce were, “I’m sorry.”
Freddy took a step back, puzzled. Reese studied her as well, but at least he radiated support as he did.
Bart moved toward her, chuckling in a low, menacing way, his flat lips twitching into a seedy grin. “Well, well. If it isn’t my runaway bride.”
“Bart.” Lenore nodded sharply to him, forcing every bit of courage she possessed into squaring her shoulders and facing him, and her mistakes, head-on.
“Sweetheart, this man says you’re his wife,” Freddy said, inching toward her, a fire in his eyes that seemed to say he’d been maintaining the ruse of their engagement and that she would do well to play along.
It was one of the sweetest things Freddy had ever done for her, considering how much danger it put him in, but Lenore couldn’t let Freddy or Reese risk their lives for her sake for a moment longer.
“He’s right,” she said in a small voice, clasping her hands in front of her and lowering her head for a moment. “I did marry him.” She couldn’t bring herself to say she was his wife. As far as she was concerned, she wasn’t.
Freddy and Reese gaped at her, sending startled looks between her and Bart.
“So the blackguard isn’t lying?” Reese asked. For a moment, Lenore worried he was as hurt as Phin had been when he learned the truth.
“No,” Lenore sighed, raising her head and facing Bart with her chin tilted up. “But I did not marry him for love. I married him because…because Bart and I had a deal.” She’d come perilously close to saying she’d married him to save her life, but under the circumstances, with Bart standing right there, leering at her, she thought better of it.
“That’s right, sweet pea, we did,” Bart chuckled, swaggering toward her. “And it’s time you fulfill your end of the deal.”
Lenore took a step back. “I did fulfill my end,” she said, surprised at how defensive she sounded. “I said I’d marry you so that I couldn’t testify against you.” She shot a quick glance to Freddy and Reese, trying to gauge whether they’d let on to Bart that they knew the full story of his villainy.
“Come on,