Lord Crowland did not bother with niceties, or indeed even with a greeting. “I have lost my patience with you, Wyndham,” he bit off.

Thomas glanced over at Amelia for explanation. But she was not quite looking at him.

“I am afraid I do not understand your meaning,” Thomas said.

“Amelia tells me you leave for Ireland.”

Amelia knew he was going to Ireland? Thomas blinked in surprise. This was news to him.

“I overheard you talking to Grace,” she said, with a miserable swallow. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said. I didn’t think he would be so angry.”

“We have waited long enough,” Crowland blustered. “You have kept my daughter dangling on a string for years, and now, finally, when we think you are about to deign to set a date, I hear that you are fleeing the country!”

“I do plan to return.”

Crowland’s face turned a bit purple. Perhaps dry wit had not been the best choice.

“What, sir,” he snapped, “are your intentions?”

Thomas breathed in through his nose, long and deep, forcing his body to remain calm. “My intentions,” he repeated. At what point was a man allowed to decide he’d had enough? That he was through with being polite, with trying to do the right thing? He considered the events of the last few days. All in all, he thought he’d done rather well. He hadn’t killed anyone, and Lord knew, he’d been tempted.

“My intentions,” Thomas said again. His hand flexed at his side, the only outward sign of his distress.

“Toward my daughter.”

And really, that was enough. Thomas gave Lord Crowland an icy stare. “I hardly possess intentions toward anything else in your sphere.”

Amelia gasped, and he should have felt remorse, but he did not. For the past week he had been stretched, beaten, poked, prodded—he felt as if he might snap. One more little jab, and he was going to—

“Lady Amelia,” came a new, highly unwelcome voice. “I did not realize you had graced us with your lovely presence.”

Audley. Yes, of course he would be here. Thomas started to laugh.

Crowland eyed him with something approaching revulsion. Thomas, not Audley, who appeared just in from a ride, all windblown and roguishly handsome.

Or so Thomas assumed. It was difficult to know just what the ladies saw in the man.

“Er, Father,” Amelia said hastily, “may I present Mr. Audley? He is a house guest at Belgrave. I made his acquaintance the other day when I was here visiting Grace.”

“Where is Grace?” Thomas wondered aloud. Everyone else was in attendance. It seemed almost unkind to leave her out.

“Just down the hall, actually,” Audley said, eyeing him curiously. “I was walking—”

“I’m sure you were,” Thomas cut in. He turned back to Lord Crowland. “Right. You wished to know my intentions.”