Page 56 of Drowned in the Pleasure of a Devilish Baron
He frowned and thought of the letter he had sent to John. There could only be one answer to that.
I have no enemies, I owe no outstanding debts. There is only one thing that could said to be not mine, and she is not a thing, but a lady with her own will. He received my request and decided to threaten me to stay away from her, because I dared to ask to see her, dared to try and speak with him about marrying her.
His heart lit with fury as he crumpled the sheet in his fist, barely resisting the urge to throw it on the ground and grind it to dust beneath his feet. How dare John think he could send these cowardly letters and actually succeed in keeping Felix and Sarah apart?
Above all, the part of the letters that bothered him most were the way they referred to her as a ‘thing’. How galling, for John to continually refer to his sister as an object.
It was this idea, of Sarah’s honor, of her rights as a family member in the Marlow house being trampled, that set him striding to his stable. He would leave at once, and confront John himself. Felix was a man of action, not one to sit by the side and wait and see what would happen next. He would attempt to speak with John as reasonably as possible, and let him know that his letters were being roundly ignored.
The ride atop Acorn to the Marlow home was quick, for Felix it was nothing but a blur of fields as he thought about what he would say to John. Twice, he had to force himself to loosen the grip on the reins, as he white-knuckled his way down the road.
Throwing Acorn’s reins to the Marlow stablehand—a boy who looked too young to truly be a stablehand, but Felix was too concerned with other matters to notice just now—he went to the door and knocked a bit harder than was strictly polite.
The butler, Carlisle, appeared at once.
“I’m here to speak with Lord Marlow, please. It’s rather urgent.”
“Sir, I do apologize, but Lord Marlow is unavailable at the moment.”
The smoothness and immediacy of this response only served to solidify Felix’s belief that it was John sending these letters. Why else would he have had his butler prepared to turn away Felix at the door?
“I apologize to you, Carlisle, but I shall have to insist on seeing Lord Marlow at once.” Felix struggled to keep his voice measured. There was no way he would be leaving without speaking with John.
The butler raised gray brows. “It does not matter what you insist, Sir. You must go now.”
Down the hall, Felix heard John’s voice call out, sounding bored, “Is that Felix? Send him away! I won’t see him!”
Felix looked at the butler. “Sorry about this.”
“Sorry about what—?”
But Felix pushed him aside and walked straight to the sound of John’s voice. It was time to speak man to man, and he would most certainly not be fobbed off by the butler.
“Sir!” Carlisle called from behind him, sounding shocked. “Sir, please!”
But Felix was already rounding the corner into the drawing room, where John was at the window, looking out.
“Have you gotten rid of him, then? I haven’t seen him ride away.”
“Actually, no,” Felix said, and watched with a measure of pleasure as John turned around quickly, his face pale.
“Felix!” He stood straight. “How dare you barge into my home like this? It is completely uncivilized. I won’t have it. You will have to leave at once.”
Felix stepped aside graciously as Carlisle puffed into the room, and in an attempt to dignify the situation at hand, announced the surprise caller.
“Sir Felix Andrews, My Lord,” he said, putting a hand to his chest as he caught his breath.
John shot him a dark look, and the butler quickly bowed and excused himself.
Leaning against the doorframe, Felix crossed his arms and leveled John with a look. “I have only come to talk, but I am not leaving until we do.” So far, he was proud of how carefully he was restraining his emotions, though the blood still pumped furiously through his veins.
“What on earth is there to talk about? You come into my home, on the day of rest no less, and demand to speak with me? What could have possibly precipitated such an act of rudeness?” John’s face filled with color as he spoke.
“I would not have done so if it were not a matter of importance,” Felix said, fighting to stay calm. “But these letters cannot go unanswered.”
“What letters? I know nothing of this.” John snapped, his eyes narrowing.
“You would say that though, wouldn’t you?” Despite himself, he could feel his temper rise once more at the gall of John pretending he had no idea what this could be about.
