Page 75 of To Tempt a Scandalous Lord
“—do not delude yourselves. Inverray’s opportunity to become Prime Minister disappeared when he married that nobody countess. I have long advised the marquess he should marry, stressing how valuable it would be to secure an alliance with a powerful, storied family. An easy job for a duke’s heir…evena Scottish duke. Yet did he listen to me? Of course not. A stubborn fool just like his countrymen. Instead, he allowed himself to be snared by the upstart Lady Lindsay, who admittedly has a pretty face, but whose clever hand penned—”
The viscount’s words abruptly cut off when Niall’s hand squeezed around his throat.
Niall couldn’t recall how it happened, only knowing a hazy red cloud had dropped down over his vision when Matthews had insulted Alicia. His passionate, clever, tenderhearted wife. He would patiently withstand the viscount’s insults and innuendos all the daytime hours, but his wife’s honor was a very different beast.
The insult made his hand squeeze the other man’s neck tighter. “Kindly remove my wife’s name from your mouth. There is nothing that would ever make you worthy enough to utter a single syllable of her name.”
Niall was aware the other gentlemen in attendance, the very men whose votes he needed to secure, were now watching him as if he were giving a performance on a Covent Garden stage.
He didn’t give a damn.
He jerked the viscount close to his face, and growled, “This is supposed to be about ideas. Debating proposals, so the best version, the version that will benefit the most people, is passed by Parliament.” His fingers tightened, and Matthew gasped. “Discussing my wife as if she were nothing but trash under your feet is not to be part of it. Making fantastical claims about her does nothing more than declare your dishonor.”
“Niall.”
Gritting his teeth, he met Ashwood’s blue eyes.
His steady gaze helped Niall corral his emotions.
With a shuddering exhale, he opened his hand and watched with a burst of satisfaction as Matthews collapsed to the floor.
No one offered the viscount assistance as he heaved for breath, gripping at his neck.
Straightening his spine, Niall turned to face the men whose gazes pressed upon him. He debated whether to apologize for his uncharacteristic actions, but quickly discarded the idea. No matter what details she had withheld from him, Alicia deserved his defense and he would give it unreservedly.
“Gentlemen,” he began, clearing his throat, “I have worked side by side with most of you to pass a variety of bills to further the party platform. We celebrated the Reform Act and the Slavery Abolition Act together. I hope that after all this time, you know me to be hardworking, honorable, and a man of my word.”
Niall speared Matthews with a gimlet stare. “I’m certain that some of you will blame my actions toward Viscount Matthews this day on mywild Scots blood. How it’s not to be trusted. Yet for all the years I have lived in London, I have never been ashamed of my ancestry. How could I be when there’s so much to be proud of? However, in defense of my wife and her good name, I would take up the claymore of my forebears and raze this city to the ground. And for that, gentlemen, I will never apologize.”
With those loaded words, Niall spun on his heel and swept out the door. He ignored the bile souring his tongue for he knew he had just sunk his candidacy. The knowledge didn’t sting like he imagined it would.
A hand closed over his shoulder in the entry, and he jerked about, his gaze colliding with Firthwell’s. The dukes flanked him.
“Well…” he ran a hand over his cravat, “that went swimmingly, don’t you think?”
“It was immensely satisfying,” Darington said, and the other men nodded in agreement.
“What do you intend to do now?” Firthwell asked.
Exhaling, Niall shook his head. “I intend to leave for Loch Kilmorow to find my wife and bring her home.”
“She’s not in the Highlands.” Ashwood accepted his hat and cane from a footman, and offered Niall a smile. “Lady Inverray is at Amstead Gardens.”
Alicia was with Flora and Amstead? He closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer of thanks for his youngest sister and her marquess for welcoming Alicia and keeping her safe when he had not.
“Oh,” he mumbled.
“How do you intend to apologize to your lady wife?” Ashwood continued.
Niall wrinkled his nose. “What makes you think I have something to be sorry for?”
His friends scoffed in unison, their exasperation with his answer apparent on their faces.
“Because you are here,” Darington snorted, “instead of with her.”
He jerked on his cravat. “I don’t know what to do,” he grumbled, looking away and down the street.
“You can apologize, Niall, with pretty words and promises,” Firthwell said, his tone patient, “or you canshowLady Inverray that you’re sorry.”
