“You should have thought of that before you ruined the girl and left her bereft and with a babe on the way. A child who looks exactly like you, as I’m told. I’ll expose you publicly if you don’t marry her. You’ll be a good and devoted husband. You’ll hear from me and my associates if you aren’t.”

“This is blackmail.”

West shrugged. “I call it justice. You didn’t think you were going to get away with it twice, did you?”

“I thought you’d challenge me to a duel. Any true gentleman would have.”

“I’m not a true gentleman. I’m Wicked Westbury.”

There was a knock at the door. West opened it.

“Leave him here,” Jax said. “I’ll finish things up. My men will enforce the engagement and the marriage. Miss Trowbridge is waiting at a hotel. We’ll take him out the back way so he can’t make a scene. Go home to your family.”

Outside the room, West clasped his friend’s hand. “Thank you, Jax. Viola will be so pleased that I found a way to teach Laxton his lesson with no bloodshed. I owe you a debt.”

“You paid for half of the renovation of this building with your gambling losses, Westbury. You don’t owe me anything. How is Viola, by the way? She did look ravishing in that red gown.”

“I proposed to her.”

“Good for you!”

“She turned me down.”

“Ah. Unexpected.”

“I made a right mess of the proposal.”

“I see. Then go and get it right, my friend. What are you waiting for?”

West hurried home, rehearsing the words he wanted to say. He’d make her see that she was the reason he’d reformed. It had all been for her. He’d find the right words.

I love you, would probably be the best place to start.

He’d mucked everything up. His proposal had been atrocious. He’d have to do much, much better to win the heart and hand of a wicked wallflower.

He was too late. The dower house was empty. Their trunks were gone. The music room held the silent echo of Viola’s piano playing. He slid his finger over the keys, plunking some melancholy bass notes.

She’d said she was leaving. She’d warned him.

Birdie burst through the door. “Where has Viola gone?”

“I don’t know. Oh, yes, I do know. She and her father were delivering his symphonic score to the Philharmonic Society today.”

“Why did she leave without saying goodbye? What did you do to her, West?” Birdie frowned at him fiercely.

“I mucked everything up.”

“Obviously.” His sister crossed her arms over her chest. “Now what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to fetch her back, don’t worry.”