Page 76 of A Gamble with the Rakish Duke
How dare her father make her feel unsafe?
“I will pay his debts!” Oliver bellowed.
He didn’t have any more patience for the disgusting way Hartwell was handling his daughter.
“Ah, late for the party, Your Grace! Come and see how distressed you have made your wife by telling her to leave London. She had begun enjoying the soirées and little friendships,” Hartwell said with a strange kind of cheer. “So, you’re going to pay off all my debts at Devil’s Draw? Lockwood is certainly waiting. I can feel the noose around my neck tightening.”
How could he sound so happy right now when he had made people miserable, including himself?
“As it should. You brought this upon yourself, Hartwell,” Oliver reminded him as he casually closed the distance between them.
Prescott had cowered, letting him in without any issue. Oliver could almost feel the man shiver, and his heart went out to him.
“Now that I think about it, you didn’t exactly complain about marrying my daughter. You realized even then that she was a good investment,” Hartwell said maliciously.
“Investment?” Alexandra spluttered, not believing her ears.
“Yes, that is what you are. What daughters are. Audley here certainly was fortunate to have married my child. Not a hunchback. Not an old spinster, as people were saying,” the wretched man continued. “He married a beautiful young woman of keen intellect, until she let lust take over.”
Oliver felt his muscles tense up from anger. His fists had clenched, and his body had stiffened. He could not believe theaudacity of the man before him. At that very moment, his wife finally looked his way and paled as she scanned his face.
“Oliver! What happened to you?” Alexandra cried, rushing to him.
Her hands were on his face, but barely. She was gentle, knowing that she could hurt him easily. Tears welled up in her eyes.
Oliver wondered how awful he must have looked for her to want to take care of him even after he told her to leave. After all that mistrust.
“I… it’s nothing,” he said, taking her hands in his own. He kissed one of them softly. “I-I had to go to Devil’s Draw,” he admitted, his earlier anger dissipating as shame washed over him.
Alexandra’s eyes were shimmering with tears, red and slightly swollen. She had already cried before he came, but he was not necessarily blameless for that.
“You hear that, Alexandra? The Duke was at the gambling hell. Again! A rake will always be a rake! Did you not know that his father was unfaithful to his mother? Didn’t he share that little story with you? No. I can see it on your face, dear daughter. Blood is strong, you know,” Hartwell scoffed. “Give it time, and he will show you his true colors.”
Oliver was quiet. Perhaps Hartwell was right on that point. He went back to a place he shouldn’t have simply because he didn’tknow how to deal with his emotions. However, he also knew that there was no woman he wanted to be with other than his beautiful and talented wife. He was here for her now and would not let her go unless she told him to.
“You know that you’re wrong, Father!” Alexandra cried. “Oliver is not like that. He is nothing like that!”
She had untangled herself from her husband and turned to face her father. She was not going to hide from him this time. No. No more.
“For now, Daughter.”
Oliver wanted to punch the smug look off his father-in-law’s face. He tried to hold on to his belief in respecting his elders, especially his wife’s father. He reminded himself that without this profligate, he wouldn’t have Alexandra. He would still be living an aimless, empty life, going back and forth between Devil’s Draw and his house.
“Enough, Hartwell. I have had enough of listening to you. Set your daughter free, or I will unleash the full wrath of thetonon you.”
“The full wrath?” Hartwell echoed as if he truly couldn’t understand. His eyebrows were knitted together in confusion, and he lifted his hand to his chest.
Oliver wondered if it was all mockery and if it was right for him to finally hurt this man. Physically.
“Yes. I will use all my connections to make sure you don’t get to show your face anywhere near us again. You will be pushed back to the country, or worse. I will even force you to leave England.”
“You can’t do that,” Hartwell whimpered.
It was then that Oliver noticed just how pale and dry the man’s lips were. His right hand trembled at his side.
Was he ill?
Oliver decided that if the man needed help, he should have asked the proper way. He shouldn’t have resorted to threats, cruelty, and endless gambling.
