“I am thinking. And I think you owe me a great deal of money. Unless you plan to forget this as well.”
“I forget nothing.”
“Then you will pay your debts, cease prattling about disinheritance, and stay the bloody hell away from my fiancée.”
Then Trevor stood, waiting with fists pressed against the baize. Did his grandfather cower? Did he give in gracefully?
“You are dead to me, boy,” the man spat.
Trevor waived a hand in dismissal as if that meant nothing. It was a lie. The words cut at him. A part of him still loved his grandfather, but it was clearly a one-sided love. “Do you forget your debts? Do we turn the financial reins over to Father?” He gestured at the table. It was so much more than a pile of chits here. The man either had to pay or admit he was unable to handle money. It wasn’t enough to legally declare himnoncompusmentis, but it was a start. Especially as there were at least two barristers in the room listening closely.
Then his grandfather gave in. His hands shook, his eyes blazed in fury, but he did as honor bid. He threw down bank notes as he might throw away bad meat. “You may apply to Oltheten,” he said, his voice thick but clear. “He will give you the last penny you will ever see from me.”
Trevor simply shrugged. “Between you and my parents, sir, I never expected to inherit a penny anyway.” That was a lie, but everyone here took it as truth.
Trevor had just thrown away the fortune of a lifetime. He was well aware that the entailed properties wouldn’t support themselves. He would be in a bad way if he inherited a title with no means to support it. But that was a worry for another day. For now, he’d beaten his grandfather. He’d declared his independence from a domineering old goat, and…and…
And he wanted to see Mellie.
Heneededto spend some quiet moments in her arms assessing exactly what he had just done. She would help him sort through the facts logically before he planned his next step.
She would help him.
And so it was with absolute horror that he stepped out of the card room to see her on another man’s arm. Not just any man, but Lord Rausch, the slimiest damn German in London. And she was laughing while he unobtrusively plucked a feather from her bodice.
Bloody hell, this night might just end with a challenge after all.
Sixteen
Listen carefully so you can use his own words against him.
Mellie didn’t notice when Trevor appeared at the edge of the ballroom, or so she told herself. She kept her gazed fixed on the gentlemen who surrounded her, so she couldn’t possibly have seen when he stepped out of the card room with an expression more appropriate to a boxing match. Lord, she’d never seen him more furious and that included when Ronnie had punched him hard enough to land in a cow pile.
Damn, she was looking at him when she shouldn’t be. Her attention was supposed to be on Mr. Rausch who was especially charming right now. And his friends were very learned. She’d spoken more natural history in the last fifteen minutes than she had in years of living with her father. She usually got her information from published papers, but it was immeasurably more stimulating to speak with like-minded scientists. She was so happy about the conversation that she didn’t even care that they were mostly there to ogle her gown and try to learn gossip about her and Trevor.
She thought she could catch Lady Eleanor’s eye. Perhaps she knew why Trevor would look that angry upon leaving a card room. Did the man gamble to excess? Had he just lost a lot of money?
Unfortunately, Eleanor was surrounded by her own circle of admirers. Somehow the two women had become separated by all the gentlemen, which meant that there was no female to moderate Trevor’s attitude when he shouldered his way into her circle.
Mr. Rausch responded first. “Mr. Anaedsley, I must say you’ve been sadly neglectful of your fiancée. She’s absolutely fascinating—”
“Thank you, sir. When I need advice on my intended, I’ll be sure to turn to you.” Then he held out his hand. “Mellie, if you wouldn’t mind…” It was clearly not a request. It was also not a statement of what he wanted. Just an outstretched hand and an expression as dark as pitch. And she had no idea how to respond.
“Um, I’m supposed to partner Mr. Greenfield in the next set.” The musicians had started tuning again, so it wouldn’t be long.
“Perhaps Mr. Greenfield will forgive you,” he said, his tone softening, but not his expression. “I would like to speak—”
“Come now, Anaedsley,” Mr. Rausch interrupted. “The girl is allowed some fun, don’t you think? We’re having the most stimulating conversation.” He gestured toward Mellie, but froze as Trevor’s voice cut through hard and cold.
“Touch my fiancée again, Rausch, and I will meet you at dawn.”
“Trevor!” Mellie gasped.
At her cry, Trevor blinked, then his eyes widened, as he must have realized what he’d just said. Suddenly, he was grimacing as he pulled his hands back to his sides. “Forgive me, everyone. I’m in a deuced foul temper.”
“Then perhaps you should leave the ladies alone,” said Mr. Rausch, his voice cold as he stepped protectively between her and Trevor.
But that was ridiculous. Trevor would never harm her. And if he was in a foul temper, it was incumbent upon her to find out what had happened.