"You
will, even if I have to drag you to the altar myself."
"Papa!"
The color drained from Elizabeth's face. Her father had never spoken to her
with such anger. But she knew he meant what he said. There was no doubt about
that. Without another word, she bit her lip and hurried from the room.
Milli
gasped. "Oh, Papa," she said in a disgusted whisper.
William
flushed to the roots of his white hair. "I ain't one to drag you,
Lizzie," he shouted. "You know I ain't. Something in those lemon
cakes, you know. Always bothered me."
Milli
turned on him when she heard her sister sob. "She will have her knight,
and I will see to it."
With a
hand to her forehead, Milli fled the room, her voice dwindling to a theatrical
whisper. "Oh, treason of thy very blood, murder not my heart for I have
only one."
Muttering
a curse, William Shelby sank into the plush velvet beneath him and pulled out
the papers in his jacket pocket. Lizzie would thank him later. She thought he
was misguiding her, but he was doing this for her own good. Creighton Hall
would be a nice summer home; now all he had to do was nab the lord along with
the property. He would make a nice husband for his Lizzie. A nice husband,
indeed.