Mr. Clark ignored her and continued, “Did you tell him what happened? He would not have married you if he knew. It can still be annulled, dissolved.”
Tristan’s head spun at the continued attack on his senses. Striding to his office and slamming the door with them all on the other side seemed the most sensible option. Only, there was Marguerite. Having set out to be her hero, it would be poor form to turn and run now.
She was fading by the instant. First, her color had gone. Then, her shoulders had slumped. And now, if he was not mistaken her knees were starting to shake.
He took the hand he still held, and pulled her against him. She was so small. He’d known she was delicate, but only as her soft curves pressed against him did he realize how slender she was. She was not short, but her frame was so slight, so thin that it seemed possible the very words, which flew, about the room could break her.
Unmindful of all propriety, she melted against him, head turned to his chest and he could feel the hot moisture of her breath through his shirt. He slipped a hand around her waist.
He spoke one simple word.
“Stop.”
Mrs. Wilkes and Mr. Clark froze as if stuck in a children’s game.
“First, were formal promises made, papers signed?” Tristan put all the power of his position into his words.”
He could sense their desire to say ‘yes’. He felt the slight shake of Marguerite’s head against his chest.
Finally, Mr. Clark spoke, “No, nothing formal. It was just understood.”
“Then,” Tristan stated, “why do we not all proceed into the parlor and discuss this in a reasonable manner. It is true. I have married her and have full intention of continuing the union.”
Marguerite burrowed further into his chest making it hard to stride forward with dignity. He lifted her slightly and proceeded, her feet dangling inches from the ground. He knew that if he could see her face it would match the red damask covering the chairs to perfection.
Entering the small, sunny room he sat her in a wingchair and took a position slightly behind her, but still protective. The room was small and a short settee was the only other piece of furniture.
“Winters, please send for some tea.” He watched Marguerite turn her head slightly at his request. “Be sure to include extra lemon.”
Mrs. Wilkes gave a humphf and Tristan was almost sure she muttered under her breath, “You’ll go bankrupt keeping that girl in lemons. At least that’s once expense I am free of.”
He watched with interest as she and Mr. Clark positioned themselves. Mrs. Wilkes landed on the sofa with what could only be described as a thump. Mr. Clark looked a moment at the scant few inches remaining on the couch and with a grimace took a stand similar to Tristan’s behind her – only his view was partially obscured by a large potted plant.
In any game position was power.
Mrs. Wilkes stared up at Tristan and he could feel her thoughts whirl. Her mouth opened repeatedly as if to speak and then closed again. He was reminded of a fat bluegill blowing bubbles in a sunlit pond.
Mr. Clark remained silent and glared.
Surprisingly it was Marguerite who broke the deadlock. He’d not thought she had it in her.
“Mother, whether it was your intention or not I am now wed. Do you have anything to say beyond welcoming Wimberley to the family?”
“I certainly do,” her mother answered. “First I will not accept that the wedding was valid. It was probably a trick on his part – trying to sneak the honey from the cow without paying for it. Men are deceitful, first your father, promising me forever and then dying, then that sneaky Dutchman, trying to wiggle his way into my good graces with worthless nonsense, and now Wimberley. Just wait, the paper is probably not even good parchment. He knew a fake marriage was the only way he’d get you. And second, even if it was a real wedding, you’re too young to be wed without my consent.”
Marguerite met her mother’s glare and despite the trembling of her shoulders did not falter. “I am not sure whether to be pleased or not that my sense of virtue has suddenly been restored in your eyes. A moment ago I feared I had none. As for the wedding it was indeed valid and I am sure the witness and the curate would be