Page 75 of Miss Prim and the Duke of Wylde
From beside Constance, Warley snorted. “Can’t see it, myself. Hubert’s a decent-enough sort, but not given to action, y’know? Bit of a high-stickler and definitely stiff-rumped with it. I can’t see him unbending enough to deal with any uncouth types like these knife-wielding attackers, what?”
“Hmm.” Regarding Warley, Constance frowned. “While in the main, I agree with your assessment, I would nevertheless allow that Hubert is probablycapableof organizing these attacks, and as we don’t know what pressures might have caused him to do so, or indeed, how he learned of Drago’s however-fleeting interest in Alison—”
“Or,” Denton put in, “if Hubert has simply got it into his head that Alison should be Drago’s duchess and has grown fixated on achieving that.” He met his mother’s and uncle’s eyes. “Can any of us say that Hubert couldn’t be behind this?”
The answer was silence—a clear negative.
Drake looked around the circle. “It seems that, at this point, we lack sufficient information to point the finger at anyone.”
Reluctant agreement came from all sides.
Far from growing calmer as the discussion had progressed, Meg now felt significantly more shaken than she had on entering the library. Courtesy of Drago’s more detailed explanation and the others’ extrapolations, comments, and exclamations, the reality of just how close she’d come to not being able to marry Drago or, indeed, any eligible gentleman at all had not just registered but sunk deep. She truly had come within a whisker of having her life ruined.
Yet even as that realization resonated in her brain, as had happened earlier, in reaction to the potential horror, indomitable and unquenchably stubborn determination surged high and yet higher.
We’re getting married in a week.
Her lips set. They were, and they would. She’d never felt more fiercely determined on achieving a particular outcome.
Chin firming, she looked at Drago, and as if hearing her thoughts, he reached for her hand, closed his around it, and said, “Thank God we’re getting married in a week.”
Her smile held a sharp edge as she nodded. “Indeed.”
The announcement caused mild consternation, as some there hadn’t yet caught up with their latest news.
Meg left it to her mother and Drago’s to elaborate.
Once they had and various questions had been asked and reassurances had been forthcoming, Meg wasn’t surprised to hear Toby suggest and Drago and Drake agree that she would need to be guarded whenever she was outside either the Half Moon Street house or Wylde House.
She listened in critical silence as they made plans that involved all the unmarried gentlemen in the room in keeping a close-yet-not-obvious protective eye on her at all times. She found it interesting that everyone deferred to Toby regarding the organization of guards and was taken aback when Pru volunteered to act, as Pru put it, “as the keeper of Meg’s diary.”
Pru met Toby’s gaze, then Drago’s. “I’ll also liaise with the other ladies of the family, the older as well as the younger.”
Everyone else was quick to agree that Pru doing so would be most helpful.
“And I’ll help,” Louisa put in. “So will Therese.”
Meg inwardly sighed and accepted that she would simply have to grin and bear with the attention, with being watched and hemmed in by her nearest and dearest for the next week.
At least it will be for only one week.
And from the wordless yet meaningful looks shared between Denton, George, and Harry, she felt confident that Drago, too, would rarely find himself alone.
She could live with that.
Along with Louisa, Pru had had her head close to their mother’s, listening intently while her mother conferred with Constance. As the gentlemen’s planning drew to a close, Pru looked up and announced, “Meg has to visit the modiste tomorrow morning. Toby and I will call at Half Moon Street for breakfast and work out her day from there.”
Drago nodded. “I think it best if Meg remains for dinner at Wylde House. There are several matters we need to discuss. Denton and I”—he glanced at his brother, who promptly nodded—“will see her safely home to Half Moon Street later in the evening.”
Then Drago looked at Flick. “Also, I wouldn’t mind joining you over breakfast tomorrow.”
Flick smiled back. “Please do.”
Demon rumbled in assent.
Constance caught Flick’s eye. “We should discuss which events Meg and Drago most need to attend over the coming week.”
Flick nodded. “And of course, there are the family events that will need to be scheduled, too.”
