The Widow Wager (15 page)

Sir Oswald shrugged. “She might have deserved it, but I always spared the rod. The threat is often enough I’ve found, haven’t you?”

“I don’t threaten women,” Crispin ground out. “Only a weakling does that.”

“Hmph,” Sir Oswald replied, seemingly unoffended by Crispin’s accusation. “What brings you here?”

Crispin knitted his brow as he took a slow sip of the alcohol and let it burn its way down his throat. “My wife wanted to see her sister. And I wanted to discuss this marriage with you.”

Sir Oswald shrugged. “What about it?”

“You realize I was too drunk to approve anything that night,” Crispin said slowly. “And there is some proof that you intended to trap me from the beginning.”

The other man chuckled. “And?”

“Well, part of the reason you chose me, I assume, is because of my money. You don’t think I would use it to end this farce?”

The smile fell from Sir Oswald’s face. “You would have no grounds.”

“Fraud could be considered grounds,” he said mildly. Of course he knew his own bluff, he simply enjoyed making Gemma’s father squirm. As he was doing now.

“You would not.”

“I assume the other part of why you chose me was my penchant for scandal,” he said, taking another burning sip of whisky. “You created one thinking I would have no choice but to allow it. And yet, you don’t believe I would be more than willing to create an even bigger one to escape?”

Sir Oswald’s face was impassive enough, but Crispin saw the terror in his eyes. The desperation. It should have made him happy to know he had struck the man down with his threats. Instead it made him…

Nervous.

A man in such a state could easily hurt someone. Gemma was protected thanks to him, but what about Mary? Gemma obviously loved her sister, and if Mary’s hatred of him was any indication, she felt the same way. If this man used her to try to further himself it would destroy the girl.

Not to mention what it would put Gemma through.

He shouldn’t have cared about those things, but he did. Who wouldn’t, knowing what Gemma had already endured?

“You wouldn’t dare,” Sir Oswald blustered, his face reddening and voice elevating.

“Test me,” Crispin snapped back as he finished his drink in one long slug. As he slammed it down against the closest table the door to the billiards room opened and Gemma stepped inside, followed closely by her sister. Mary glared first at him, then at her father.

“We heard shouting,” Gemma said, her voice remarkably calm. “I hope you two are not behaving badly.”

Crispin stared at her. He could see her shifting into what was obviously a comfortable role. Peacekeeper. Apologist for her father. How long had she had to do this? Her whole life?

“Your husband was just talking to me about reneging on bets,” Sir Oswald hissed.

Crispin squeezed his eyes shut. He’d been goading Gemma’s father, but when he dared to look at her, he saw that that sentence terrified her. She didn’t fully trust in him and his promises.

And why would she?

“Crispin,” she said softly, staring at him.

He looked past her to Mary, who folded her arms and looked at him like he was yesterday’s trash.

“Let Mary go riding with us this afternoon,” he said suddenly, shifting his attention back to Sir Oswald.

Everyone in the room drew back at the shift of topic and he smiled. At least he was still capable of the element of surprise. A few more drinks and he would shock them all.

But Gemma’s gaze kept him from taking one.

Sir Oswald looked at him, his eyes narrowed and filled with lingering anger over Crispin’s suggestion that he would end the marriage with Gemma. He folded his arms.

“What is it worth to you, Mr. Flynn, to allow your wife to spend time with her sister?”

Gemma recoiled at her father’s question and the ugliness to his tone as he asked it. Crispin clearly did not yet understand. If one challenged her father, one would be met with fire, not meekness.

Crispin’s eyes narrowed and then he darted his gaze toward her. Their eyes met and she saw that he recognized the truth as well as she did. Her sister was in danger.

“What is the shared time worth?” Crispin mused, pacing the room. “An interesting question. What about the help of a duke?”

She sucked in her breath. Crispin’s relationship with his brother was already strained one would have to be deaf and blind not to recognize that. And yet he offered her father access to the man?

What would his family think of her when they found out? Or worse yet, after they encountered her father? Her heart sank at the thought.

Her father merely gaped at Crispin, apparently struck dumb by the offer. Crispin smiled, but she could see there was no real warmth to the expression. No friendliness. He seemed disgusted by her father. Was he equally hardened to her now?

“We have already discussed some reasons why you chose me as your mark for this forced marriage, Quinn, but I would think my connection to the Duke of Hartholm is not the least of them.”

“Everyone knows you two are estranged,” her father spat, even though his eyes were lit up with interest.

“Estranged or not, my brother has already offered to help Mary with a Season,” Crispin said softly. “With his help and the help of the duchess, your daughter could marry far better than you would ever dream. You could have access to more influence and wealth than you ever could have had with your precious potential sons.”

As Mary let out a gasp from behind her, Gemma stared at her husband. She had never heard the duke make such an offer. He had said he might be able to help, yes, but this? This was far beyond the bounds of mere kindness.

“If this is true,” her father said, “that would be a boon for Mary, indeed. What do you say, daughter?”

Mary’s hands were clenched at her sides. She whispered, “A boon, yes. But at what cost?”

Crispin now looked at her sister and his expression softened. “A good point, Miss Quinn. After all, nothing in the world is ever free, is it? This offer
does
come at a cost.”

Whatever headway Crispin had made with Mary now faded and Gemma saw the hatred for the man flash back into her eyes.

“What is the cost?” she asked.

He turned his attention to her father. “Mary will come to stay with Gemma and I for the remainder of this Season and all of the next.”

As her father made a sound of utter outrage, Gemma’s knees actually went weak at that statement and a flash of utter joy nearly swept away her control. Mary stay with them? It would mean her sister would be protected!

But they had never spoken of such a thing. Crispin could not truly want this.

“Crispin,” she whispered.

He moved toward her and took one hand. “It is the only way to keep Mary safe, yes?” he said softly.

She held his gaze as she nodded. “Y-yes.”

“You will not interfere in her movements about Society and if you even think of arranging some kind of marriage without speaking to me or to my brother, I promise you it will go very badly for you.” Crispin glared at her father. “In exchange, occasionally you will be allowed to chaperone the girl into the best Society parties and balls, and I’m certain my brother will introduce you to some of his new…” Crispin wrinkled his nose. “…
friends
.”

Gemma watched her father closely and saw how much he wanted this, how much he ached for the acceptance Crispin now dangled before him like a bone before a pathetic dog. And still he had not yet answered.

“What do you think, Father?” she asked.

He looked at her, and the steel reentered his stare. “How dare you try to remove my only remaining daughter from my control,” he sputtered.

“Please don’t pretend as if you give a damn about Mary and her future beyond what it can grant
you
. Crispin is making a fair offer. More than fair, I would say.”

“That is, assuming Miss Quinn would want to live with us,” Crispin said, turning on her sister.

Mary folded her arms, her chin jutting out as she stared at Crispin, measuring the man who was her new and very much unwanted brother-in-law. Gemma held her breath. To protect her, she rather believed Mary would cut down the man before her, even if it meant her own ruin.

“You know I have no say in this,” Mary said.

Crispin shrugged. “In my mind, you do. I wouldn’t want you to be forced into any future that wasn’t of your choosing.”

Gemma shook her head. He was picking his words very wisely, making Mary think about what she had to lose. And by the way the color drained from her sister’s cheeks, Gemma thought the message had been received perfectly clearly.

“I would be very happy in my sister’s home,” she choked out. “And perhaps I could be a help to her as well. After all, she has a great deal to adjust to, doesn’t she?”

Crispin smiled. “Doesn’t she.” He turned back to their father. “So, it is down to you, Sir Oswald, as the rest of us are in perfect accord. Will you allow the youngest to join the oldest in her new home, with all the advantages it will bring to you?”

Her father shifted from foot to foot, and then he sniffed. “I will consider it.”

Crispin’s face twisted into a sneer and he took a long step toward her father. With a cry, Gemma hurtled herself between them, pressing a hand against her husband’s muscular chest to keep him from doing something that would destroy any chance at the agreement they both wanted.

She continued to hold him back as she said, “Fine, Father. Think on it.” She faced Crispin again. “We will leave you.”

Her husband glared down at her, his face a stormy sea of unfulfilled anger. But then he shook his head, as if resigned to let her lead the way when it came to her father. She took his arm and motioned to her sister to follow them out as they walked from the billiards room. But at the door, Crispin stopped and turned back once more.

“Think fast, Sir Oswald,” he growled. “Because the hospitality you have been offered may fade with every passing day you wait to cash in on it. Good afternoon,
sir
.”

With that, he all but dragged Gemma from the room. In the foyer, she allowed herself the first breath in what felt like ages as Crispin waved for their carriage to be brought. She ignored him and all his bubbling masculinity and instead looked at her sister.

“Don’t poke at him, Mary, if you can,” she said softly. “Let him stew on what Crispin has offered. Don’t give him a reason to punish you despite his desire to take a chance at creating a bond with a duke.”

Mary pursed her lips. “I’ll do my best to avoid him all together,” she promised. Her sister took a long breath and then turned toward Crispin. “I should thank you, I know, for your offer, Mr. Flynn.”

“You’re wel—”

“But you must know that I still don’t trust you, especially when it comes to my sister. And if you think I am willing to overlook any pain she is caused just to protect myself from my father’s machinations, you are very wrong.”

Crispin arched a brow as their carriage rumbled to a stop before the house. “Your point has been taken, Miss. I certainly look forward to seeing you again. Good day.”

He released Gemma and left without another word. Gemma let out a long, heavy sigh as she watched his retreating back. No one in her family was going to make it easy on the man, that was certain. He might renege on their agreement to remain wed after all.

She turned on her sister. “He is trying to help you,” she whispered.

“What is he trying to do to you?” Mary replied. “I see him watching you and I wonder.”

Gemma waved her off. “Stop. And just hope that his plan comes to fruition because I would wager your future in Crispin Flynn’s home will be happier than here.”

Mary looked as though she wanted to say more, but then she simply caught Gemma’s arm and dragged her into a tight embrace. “Be careful. I love you.”

Gemma squeezed her back. “You too.” Then she turned on her heel and headed out to the carriage where Crispin waited to help her in. As he did so, she wondered at what kind of conversation they would have on what seemed like the very long drive home.

Crispin settled back against the carriage seat and shut his eyes. His head pounded and he very much wished he’d taken not one but two drinks from Sir Oswald.