Chapter 25

Love and Anger

St. Peter's Chapel, Sheffield

Nicholas rode ahead, with Oscar and William close behind. It was refreshing to get a ride before the ceremony, even if it had been unplanned. As he rode, he could not help but think about Lady Bridget. He had first met her when they had both been riding, and he knew how much she enjoyed it. He could still picture her atop her horse, her hair fluttering in the wind, her cheeks slightly pink from the ride. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever met.

Nicholas slowed his horse as they approached the chapel. A small crowd had gathered to watch, and the man at the entrance to the chapel was banging on the door, shaking the handle and shouting unintelligibly. The minister stood off to the side. He was trying to interact with the man, but his words went unheard.

The Duke brought his horse to a stop near the minister and dismounted. Someone emerged from the crowd to take the reins from him.

"Your Grace. Thank you for coming," the minister said.

"I came as quickly as I could. What is going on?"

"He turned up an hour ago and started banging on the door. I don't know who he is or what he wants, but the door is not locked. Still, he bangs and rattles it. I have tried to talk to him, but he will not listen to me, and I am scared to get too close."

"I'll take care of it," the Duke told him.

Nicholas gestured for the two footmen to follow him. He had only taken a couple of steps toward the man when he stopped in shock. He had not looked properly until that moment, and it was not some vagrant or thief but the Earl of Lincoln.

Nicholas had forgotten all about Bridget's father since leaving the seaside estate, but the problems came rushing back.

"No one will ruin this wedding," he muttered. He took another few steps toward the Earl. "Lord Lincoln!" he called.

The Earl did not stop banging on the door and shouting. It was obvious now that he was deep in his cups. He had lost one shoe, and when the Duke looked around, there was no sign of it. His shirt was untucked and hung below his jacket, and the smell of cheap brandy became overwhelming when he approached him.

"Lord Lincoln!" the Duke called again. "You must calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down!" the Earl shouted. He turned to face the Duke, and there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. He turned back to the door to bang on it some more. "Let me in! You can't keep me out of here."

"Lord Lincoln, this is a place of God." The Duke reached out and grabbed the man by the shoulder. "Stop this at once."

The Earl spun around quickly at the touch, his eyes wide and wild. He swayed from side to side. "They won't let me in," he snarled. "My daughter's wedding, and they think they can keep me from her! I will walk her down the aisle, no matter what they say, and no one will stop me. Not even you, Your Grace."

"Ah, so you do recognize me," the Duke said. "Now that we are at the crux of the matter, let me tell you something. Today is my brother's wedding day, and no one shall ruin it, not even you. I can see you are looking for a fight, and I ask you to reconsider. If you wish to fight, then you will fight me, and you must believe me when I tell you that you will come off worse. A lot worse!"

"They locked me out!" the Earl shouted.

"They did not lock you out. The wedding has not started yet." The Duke shook his head as he took the man in. "Dear Lord, look at you. Why have you done this on your daughter's special day?"

"Done what?" the Earl asked. "Demanded the respect I deserve."

"It is hard to show any respect when you have turned up this drunk, sir."

"Drunk?" the Earl scoffed and waved his hand in the air, almost toppling over. "I had a drink to celebrate my daughter becoming a married woman. There is no shame in that."

"There is a lot of shame in what you have done," the Duke retorted. "You should not have come here today. You are no gentleman, Lord Lincoln."

"You dare call me names in my own home!" The Earl looked around with some confusion. "No, not my home. Yours! Or someone else's! We are outside somehow. Still, I deserve respect."

"Yes, so you keep saying. You don't deserve respect, Lord Lincoln. Not from the people you do business with, nor from your family. My brother is marrying into your family, and Lord help him. He is lucky to have found Lady Margaret but not to have you as a father-in-law. You need to get a hold of yourself!"

The Earl looked confused and turned to look at the church once more. He turned to the Duke again but stumbled as he shifted his feet. He grabbed onto the Duke's trousers to stop himself from crashing into the ground. Nicholas had never been more thankful for a good pair of suspenders.

"Oh, please!" Ralph begged as he kept hold of the Duke's trousers. "Please, Your Grace. You must help me. I am her father, and I have a right to be here."

"I will help you, but I will help everyone else, too. I cannot let you walk your daughter down the aisle. I cannot let you attend the ceremony. I might take pity on you and let you attend the celebration afterward if you have sobered up by then."

The Earl pulled himself up, gripping the Duke's coat and then standing before him, still unsteady on his feet.

"I will not submit to your demands." He swung his arm.

The Duke ducked easily, and the Earl spun around and collapsed to the ground. The Duke pushed him with the toe of his boot, but the Earl did not move.

Nicholas looked down at the shell of a man. It was hard to feel pity for him, but he did all the same.

"William!" he called. "Oscar! Load him onto my horse. We shall ride back to the estate, and I will keep an eye on him until then."

The Duke watched as the Earl was picked up and slung over his horse. He could not believe this was happening on his brother's wedding day but was thankful it had been easy to deal with.

As he mounted his horse to ride back for Sheffield Estate, he heard a deep snore and grunt come from the drunkard on his mount.

* * *

When the Duke arrived back at the estate, he smuggled the Earl in without alerting anyone. All the happy couple needed to know was that the problem at the chapel had been dealt with, and their wedding would go ahead without a hitch. He took the Earl, with the help of the two footmen, to the opposite wing of the house and placed him in one of the bedrooms.

Ralph Ramsburry slept the entire way from the chapel to the room, not waking up as he was carried in through the back by the footmen or when he was tossed down onto the bed.

"The two of you are to remain here," the Duke ordered. "I don't care who comes, no one is allowed to enter that room unless they are accompanied by me. And the Earl is not allowed to leave the room under any circumstances, do you understand?"

"Yes, Your Grace," the footmen said in unison.

"Keep him here until the wedding ceremony is over, and you both will receive a generous bonus for this month. This is the most important task you will have in this household."

"You can count on us," Oscar said.

The look in his eyes told the Duke that he was already thinking about what he would spend the money on.

The Duke left them in the room with the Earl.

He then went in search of Bridget. He knew where their bedrooms were—they were staying at least one night on the estate. He wondered if they would have stayed longer if he had not broken Bridget's heart. He could not blame her for not wanting to be around him, though after talking to his mother, he wondered if he had been mistaken.

It was not hard to find the woman when he reached the northern wing of the house where they would be staying. They were obviously in good spirits, judging by the sounds coming from the large drawing room. He reached the door and stood, listening for a moment. He smiled when he heard Bridget laugh.

The Duke knocked, and a maid answered the door a moment later. He could see past her to where Margaret was having her hair styled.

Bridget was standing by her sister, and her smile dropped when she spotted the Duke at the door. The same look returned to her eyes—the look that had haunted him for three weeks, the look she had given him before he had left the seaside estate.

Still, she looked even more beautiful than he remembered. She was not yet wearing her dress, but her hair had been styled, and it framed her face, highlighting the soft lines of her features. Her hair looked even more golden than before, and her eyes were more beguiling. Her lips were parted slightly as she stared at him, and all he could think about was the joy that had run through his body when they had kissed.

He realized he had been staring into the room for far too long and cleared his throat to speak.

"I wanted to check that you ladies had everything you needed," he said.

"We do, thank you, Your Grace," Margaret replied.

Penelope, the mother of the bride, was also in the room, and she nodded to the Duke to show her satisfaction. The only person who did not respond or move was Bridget.

"In need to speak to Lady Bridget for a moment," the Duke added.

"I am busy with my sister," Bridget replied defiantly. "Perhaps we can talk later."

Margaret wore a tight smile as she looked toward him—it was obvious that she and Bridget had talked somewhat about what happened at the seaside estate.

"It is important," the Duke insisted.

"Then tell me," Bridget responded.

"It is a private matter." The Duke gave her a look, hoping to convey that she must leave the room and talk with him.

It worked. Bridget patted her sister on the shoulder and walked toward the Duke. She wore a scowl on her face. He knew at that moment that he had to apologize to her, to tell her he was wrong about what he wanted in life.

He did not know if it was too late, but he had to try. His feelings for her were so clear, even if she did look at him like she wanted to inflict pain on him.

Bridget was pleasant as she left the room and did not say a word until they were a distance from the door and the rest of her family would not overhear them.

"I don't wish to talk to you," she hissed.

"I know you are angry at me, but?—"

"No, I can't do this," Bridget stated, her voice cracking. "My sister is to be married today, and it is not the time for us to talk about anything. If that is why you came to my room, then I ask that we talk about this in the morning. I don't know if my heart can take it."

The Duke glanced at her lips, and he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to wrap her in his embrace and tell her that everything would be fine. To tell her that he had feelings for her. But she was right. This day was about his brother and her sister, and they should not muddle it with anything else.

"It is your father," he admitted.

Bridget's eyes widened, and her voice rose a little. "My father?"

"I was called to the chapel, and I found him there. He was drunk and demanding to be let in. He was adamant that he should walk your sister down the aisle."

"No, that can't happen," Bridget gasped. "I spoke to him, then Mother spoke to him, and I spoke to him again. I thought we had made it clear, but he is so stubborn. He just won't listen. I… Your Grace, I know you don't owe me anything, but would you speak to him? He might listen to you."

"He won't be a problem," the Duke assured her. "I already took care of it. Your father is in one of the bedrooms under the watch of two of my footmen. They are under instruction to not let him out until I return. He will not walk Lady Margaret down the aisle, nor will he ruin the ceremony. He will not be allowed to attend the celebration after without your say."

"I don't know what to say," Bridget stuttered. "Thank you."

She shook her head and frowned, but then she threw her arms around him.

The Duke wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, inhaling the familiar scent of bergamot and lavender. He did not know how much his heart had ached to be with her again at that moment. He had missed her, but there was a void in his heart that was suddenly filled.

Bridget broke their embrace a few seconds later.

"My apologies. I should not have done that," she said. "I was overcome by the gesture on my sister's wedding day."

"No, I don't mind," the Duke assured her. "I have been thinking about you a lot since we last parted, and I do want to talk to you about how we left things. I should not have returned to London so quickly. I wish now I had remained on the estate with you."

Bridget scoffed and shook her head. "What happened? Did she not turn out to be the woman you thought she was?"

"The woman?" Nicholas's eyebrows drew together. "What woman?"

"You don't need to keep up the pretense. You tried to get something out of me before you went back to her. Now what? Does she not want to wed anymore, so you come to me? I don't wish to be second best, Your Grace. Or is it that you are still with her but hope to have some fun at the wedding?"

"What are you talking about?" the Duke demanded.

"Please, do not shout at me, Your Grace. You are the one who left. I was the one who had my heart broken. You have no idea what you did to me that day, and then I had my heart broken a second time after that. Do you tell all of your ladies the same story? Is that your charm? Make them pity you and then try to bed them? It almost worked. I believed it all. It was never about not wanting to marry, was it? It was all a ruse so that you could have some fun without the commitment. I am glad I found out the truth before it was too late. My father might be a rogue, but he still cares for me."

"Your father? What did your father say?" the Duke asked.

"He told me the truth," Bridget replied. "And he has found me a man to wed. I shall meet with him next week, and I am sure he will be respectable as well as handsome."

"You are to marry?" It felt like someone had smacked the Duke over the head with a large rock. "You can't."

"I can do as I please," Bridget asserted. "You are the real rogue here. You led me on and pretended you had feelings for me, and I was a fool for developing feelings for you. You could never love me when you are in love with another woman. You should live your life and let me live mine."

"I don't understand," Nicholas said quickly. He reached out and took her hand, but she quickly jerked it away. He reached out again when tears sprung to his eyes. "Talk to me. Please."

"Leave me alone," Bridget demanded. "You have already hurt me enough."

Nicholas did not have the chance to say anything else. Bridget took off down the corridor, storming away from him. He knew he had messed up back at the seaside estate, but he had somehow made things worse in their time apart, and he had no idea how.

The idea that Bridget was to marry another man sickened him to the core.