Page 63 of What's a Duke Got to Do With It
“I don’t give a damn if the queen consort herself is here,” Cartmel snapped, ignoring Miss Athwart and, indeed, all of the women, his furious glare centered on Sebastian. “Do you mean to tell me you knew that scandalous creature was here, and you did not inform me? And now my son has run off with her? Dear God, that Harlow should tie himself to her. I would have rather he married that actress than awhore.”
How Sebastian did not hit the baron he would never know. His body literally vibrated with fury as he faced the man. “Never speak of the lady in such a manner again.”
Cartmel’s eyes widened in outrage. “You dare to speak to me like that? I hold your future in my hands, Ramsleigh. You had best step down, lest you see the dukedom remain in the muck where your father sank it.”
Damn it, the man was right. But Sebastian was finding it hard to care about anything but Katrina. Katrina, who had been fighting for so long to protect the people who loved her, who had only wanted respectability, at the sake of her own happiness.
And he had destroyed each and every chance she had taken. And here he was, planning to do it again.
He nearly blanched. Dear God, he truly was about to do it all over again. He had been prepared to run off after her and stop her from marrying Bridling. Just the idea of the two of them together made Sebastian physically ill. But if this was what Katrina wanted, who was he to destroy her chance at making a proper life for herself?
As if Cartmel had heard his tortured thoughts, the baron stepped up before him until they were nearly toe to toe. “But what the devil are you waiting for? Go after them.”
“No,” Sebastian said slowly, though the words burned his throat. “No, I won’t.”
“What?” Cartmel demanded, his face going red.
Sebastian looked him in the eye. “I’m not going after them,” he repeated.
Cartmel’s florid complexion went positively purple. “You shall, Ramsleigh, or you can consider yourself barred from marrying my daughter.”
Sebastian tightened his hands into fists at those acidic yet expected words. The one goal he’d had these past months had been to marry Miss Bridling and her fortune, his one chance to save the dukedom and all who counted on it.
But looking into Cartmel’s flat, cruel eyes, he knew that if he followed the baron’s orders, he would not only be this man’s puppet for the remainder of his life, not only commit the innocent Miss Bridling to a lifetime of marriage with a man who could never love her, but he would also destroy Katrina in the bargain.
And that last he could not accept.
“Actually,” he said quietly, “I find I must respectfully remove myself from consideration for your daughter’s hand. It would not be fair to her to be married to a man who can never give her all that she deserves.”
He drew himself up so Cartmel, growing increasingly furious with each word that dropped from Sebastian’s lips, had to crane his neck to keep eye contact with him. “I will not go after Bridling and Miss Denby. And neither will you. You will allow this marriage to take place, and welcome Miss Denby into your family. Furthermore, you will squash any rumors about her, and publicly proclaim your happiness that she is marrying your son.”
Cartmel gaped like a fish. “You cannot be serious.”
“I assure you, I am very serious.”
If anything, the baron appeared more furious. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he snarled. “You have nothing to your name except a moldering pile of stones with some dubious claim to historical importance. You thought the dukedom was in ruins before? Just wait until I am done with you.”
But Sebastian hardly heard him past mention of Ramsleigh Castle. An idea was beginning to form that was so outrageous he could not quite comprehend the full scope of what it might mean. Though he could never sell the place, entailed as it was, that did not mean it did not hold value.
Before he could fully comprehend that he might have a way out of this mess—and a way to marry Katrina and claim all the happiness in the world if he could get to her before she reached Scotland with Bridling—an unexpected voice rang out through the room, releasing the tension like a sword slicing through bindings.
“You won’t do a damn thing to His Grace,” Bridling said, striding into the room, his expression as furious as Sebastian had ever seen it. And, next to him, a person he never expected to see: the man’s sister.
“Diane,” Cartmel barked, “I told you to remain in the carriage.”
But Sebastian did not wait for her to answer, for his entire attention had diverted to Bridling. “Where is she?” he demanded, striding forward. “Where is Miss Denby? If you have abandoned her, I swear—”
But Bridling did not look the least bit perturbed. Instead he grinned widely, looking at his sister. “See, didn’t I tell you he was in love with her?”
Before Sebastian could understand what the devil the boy was talking about, Miss Bridling returned her brother’s smile before turning it on Sebastian. “I am glad. It makes this all so much easier.”
Sebastian, however, wasn’t about to waste even a second trying to unravel the mysterious back and forth between the siblings. “Where is Katrina?” he demanded. “You eloped with her; why are you not on your way together to Gretna Green as we speak?”
Whatever response he might have expected, it certainly wasn’t the delighted laughter that spilled from the boy’s lips. “Eloped? With Miss Denby? Whatever put that idea in your head?” He laughed again. “Ah, I suppose my little bit of acting to throw you off the scent did the trick. Forgive me, Ramsleigh. I had to protect my interests, you see. But no, I never lost my love for my darling Mirabel. And I certainly never replaced her in my affections with Miss Denby. No, I respect her opinion, and asked her to assist me in deciding what to do about Miss Hutton, now that my father has set my life in stone for me. With her help I have decided I shall return to London and ask Mirabel to marry me.” His expression softened. “Miss Denby was of the opinion that if one were to find love, one should hold on to it with both hands and never let it go.”
As Sebastian’s heart lurched in his chest at that, Cartmel approached, his florid face back to purple rage.
“Miss Hutton?” he roared. “No, I forbid it. You shall not marry that creature.”
