Clio! Clio!” Daphne accosted her in the corridor, breathless and flushed. She placed her hands on Clio’s shoulders. “Did I just see Lord Granville and Lord Rafe mounted on their horses and riding away?”
Clio’s heart pinched at the thought of Rafe leaving. But if he must go, at least he was leaving with his brother. “You probably did,” she said. “Yes.”
“Well, what are they about? Have they gone to fetch the license?”
“No, they’ve . . .” She shrugged as they entered the drawing room, joining Sir Teddy and Phoebe. “They’ve simply gone.”
“Gone?” Daphne shook her head, laughing. “But what can you mean?”
Clio squared her shoulders and drew a deep breath. This seemed as good a time as any to announce it.
“I’ve broken the engagement,” she said.
There. The words were out, and they hadn’t even been that difficult to pronounce. If she’d managed to hold her own when informing Piers of her decision, she could certainly relay the news to her closest family.
“What?” Teddy’s boot hit the floor. “You mean you let him off the hook?”
“I wouldn’t phrase it that way, but—”
“That’s not fair, dumpling.” Her brother-in-law rose from his seat, visibly agitated. “He kept you dangling for eight years. Humiliated you. Squandered the best years of your life. Make the man come up to scratch.”
“You’re mistaken,” Clio said, trying to keep an even temper. “I am the one who broke the engagement. It was my decision. I don’t wish to marry him.”
“You, breaking off with him?” Teddy chuckled. “It’s a nice attempt to save face, but no one’s going to believe that tale.”
“It’s not a tale. It’s the truth.”
But when had these two ever recognized the truth, from Clio’s lips?
“Oh, Lord.” Daphne sank onto the sofa and released a slight, deflated moan. “Oh, no.”
Clio shook her head. For heaven’s sake, Piers had accepted the news with less melodrama than this.
He’d taken it well, actually. He’d expressed a convincing degree of disappointment, but Clio could tell his pride was taking the deepest wound. His heart wasn’t in danger. They were little more than strangers after all these years. She hoped in time they could be friends.
He was a good man. Just not the man for her.
“Can’t you try to mend things?” her sister asked. “Perhaps it’s not too late. Or . . . Or Teddy can ride after them and demand Lord Granville make good on his promises.”
Clio shook her head. “It’s over.”
“It can’t be over,” Teddy said. “After all these years, we can’t give up. You mustn’t let him escape.”
“Escape?” She laughed. “Should I be locking him in the dungeons?”
“Laugh all you like, but this is always your failing.” Her sister clucked her tongue. “You let this drag on far too long, when you should have stood up for yourself years ago. You’re too accommodating.”
She thought on it. “You’re right, Daphne. I am too accommodating.”
“I’m so glad you see it.”
“That’s going to change,” Clio said. “Today.”
“Oh, yes. Let’s go after him. We’ll order the carriage this moment. Teddy.”
Her sister snapped her fingers, and her husband roused himself from the sofa. Together they hurried into the corridor.
Clio followed. But when they approached the entrance hall, she held back.
“It’s your last chance to go first,” she told her sister, smiling sweetly. “Once I marry Piers, I will take precedence.”
Daphne smiled. “That’s the spirit.”
She waited until Daphne and Sir Teddy had walked through. And then she ducked into the nearby alcove, reached up with both arms, and pulled the lever.
With a groan and rattle of iron, the portcullis smashed shut.
“It’s been lovely having you visit,” Clio told her shocked sister and brother-in-law, waving her fingers through the barrier of the iron grate. “Please do come back at Christmas.”
“What on earth are you doing, dumpling?” Teddy asked.
“Using my castle for its intended purpose. Protection. And kindly refrain from calling me dumpling. Rafe taught me how to punch, too.”