“Lost it,” his father shouted back, his eyes bulging a little. “ What have you done?” James repeated, through clenched teeth. Otherwise, you will have no country house to inherit. And you’ll make her fall in love with you. “I don’t care if the chit is as ugly as sin, you’ll take her. Sure enough, Ashbrook’s voice emerged as a bellow.
His father’s eyes narrowed and a rusty color rose in his cheeks, a certain sign of danger. “I am already appalled I do not wish to be disgusted as well.” “Hogwash! You may have rubbed noses a few times as children, but that shouldn’t stop you from sleeping with her.”įor the first time the duke looked a trifle sympathetic. “You’re instructing me to woo a young lady whom I’ve been raised to treat as a sister.” Saxby inquired about a few of my investments in a manner that I did not appreciate. “You must convince Theodora that you’re in love with her, or her mother will never agree to the match. “Because we need her damned fortune,” Ashbrook raged, walking to the fireplace and giving the unlit logs a kick. “And I fail to see why that particular provision should cause you such annoyance.” “I have no knowledge of the contents of Mr.
But you know damn well her father left the decision over who marries the girl to her mother-” I turned down an offer for her hand this week from Briscott, who’s such a simpleton that I didn’t feel I need tell her mother. “Not unless you’re going downstairs to make eyes at that girl. “In that case, I will bid you good day,” James said, keeping his tone even. James came by his temper naturally: he had inherited it directly from his irascible, reckless father. “I do mind your asking.” The duke stared back at his only son, his long aquiline nose quivering with anger. “Exactly how did the estate come to be in such precarious straits? If you don’t mind my asking.”
One of his resolutions was to master his temper before turning twenty-and that birthday was a mere three weeks away. James took a deep breath before answering. “Don’t you dare speak to me in that tone!” A terrible feeling of dread was spreading through his limbs.Īshbrook pivoted. “What have you done?” James spat the words. “We need her fortune to repair the Staffordshire estate and pay a few debts, or we’re going to lose it all, this townhouse included.” His father turned and walked toward the far wall of the library, acting as if he’d said nothing particularly out of the ordinary. James Ryburn, Earl of Islay, and heir to the Duchy of Ashbrook, opened his mouth to say something, but a mixture of fury and disbelief choked the words. I don’t care if you think of her as a sister: from now on, she’s the Golden Fleece to you.” The London residence of the Duke of Ashbrook
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