Free The Pride of Lions by Marsha Canham Page A

Reverend Mister Duvall have been taken to the library to await your cooperation in this matter.”
    Montgomery said nothing. Damien gaped at his father as if he could not possibly have interpreted his meaning correctly. “You can’t be serious.”
    “I assure you, I am very serious. Deadly serious, in fact, as are each of these six young men who are more than willing to see that Mr. Montgomery does the honorable thing to salvage your sister’s reputation … unto the death, if necessary.”
    Montgomery stared. Hard. Only the squared ridge ofhis jaw betrayed the control it was taking to keep his anger in check.
    “Let me get this straight,” he said through the grating of his teeth. “You expect me to marry your daughter? Here? Tonight?”
    “By your own admission, sir, having neither wife nor family, you are free to do so.”
    “You know nothing about me.”
    “I pride myself in being an excellent judge of character,” Sir Alfred countered smoothly. “And I judge you to be more than adequate to the task of managing my daughter’s somewhat headstrong tendencies. Further, as a businessman, I am sure you can appreciate the fact that a union with Catherine does not come without financial rewards. She was bequeathed quite a handsome dowry by her maternal grandmother—a dowry I am prepared to match, a pound to the penny.”
    Damien stepped forward, his face a tight white mask. “You’re talking about Catherine as if she were a commodity, a piece of dry goods available to the highest bidder. She is your daughter, for Christ’s sake. Your own flesh and blood.”
    Sir Alfred’s face reddened. “As such she should know I am a man of my word. I warned her—especially after the last escapade—that I would not tolerate such behavior, yet she seems determined to defy me time and time again. And unless you can produce irrefutable proof that Mr. Montgomery is a liar or a cheat, a thief, a murderer, or a carnivore, I can see no reason to deny him his just rewards! If he is any or all of those things, then these selfsame fine officers will be more than happy to escort him to prison where he belongs.”
    The muscles in Damien’s jaw worked furiously. “Does Catherine have nothing to say about this?”
    “Not one single thing,” Sir Alfred said bluntly. He looked at Montgomery and swelled out his chest. “Well, sir? What shall it be? Six more stout young duelists … or a quiet ceremony in my library?”
    “He could refuse to many her, and he could refuse to fight,” Damien persisted. “What would then be your recourse, sir? To shoot him out of hand?”
    Sir Alfred pursed his lips. “Nothing quite so drastic, I assure you, but his refusal would pose some difficulties, to be sure. Difficulties that could take weeks, perhaps months to resolve to everyone’s satisfaction. Mr. Montgomery would, of course, be detained in the colonel’s gaol until such time as the King’s court could be petitioned for a ruling—he seems to have a great deal of knowledge about black-market goods, for instance, and his references would have to be investigated thoroughly, including his business interests and associates.”
    “That’s blackmail!” Damien gasped and looked at Montgomery. “They can’t force you to do this.”
    Raefer’s jaw clamped down hard enough on his cigar to break off the end. “They aren’t leaving me much of a choice. Unfortunately, I have neither the time to waste rotting in their gaol, nor the inclination to fight any more of your sister’s misguided champions.” He sent the cigar hissing into the barrel of water and tucked the loose ends of his shirt into the waist of his breeches. “Let’s get it over with, gentlemen.”
    “Your waistcoat, sir. Your jacket?” Sir Alfred snatched up both as Montgomery brushed past him out the door.
    The tall Londoner stopped and cast a fulminating glance downward. “If you want me that badly, you’ll take me as I am.”
    He strode past Colonel Halfyard and