Page 29 of Hard-Hearted Highlander
His lordship and his brother were well into their cups, arguing over a chess game.
“I beg your pardon, I won’t interrupt,” Bernadette said.
“You are most welcome,” Lord Kent said jovially, motioning for her to come forward. “I am of good cheer, for I am winning. But if you wish to speak to Edward, you will be disappointed. He is foul when he is losing.”
“You will do us both a service if you shut your bloody mouth,” Lord Ramsey groused, and his brother laughed.
“What is it, Bernadette? What brings you into this den of bad gaming?” his lordship asked, and gestured for her to pour more whisky.
She picked up the bottle and poured into their glasses. “I wish to speak to you about Avaline.”
Her father didn’t look up. “What is it now?”
She put aside the bottle. “My lord... I beseech you to consider that she does not esteem Mr. Mackenzie.”
Lord Kent laughed at that and leaned back in his chair. “Then perhaps she has more sense than I thought,” he said. “No one esteems him, do they? He’s a bloody miserable man.”
Bernadette was astounded. She was prepared to present her case to convince his lordship. “He is,” she said, seizing the moment. “And Avaline is very unhappy.”
“Yes, well,” he said, turning his attention to the chessboard once more, “what would you have me do about it?”
“Revoke the marriage agreement,” she said quickly. “Allow Avaline to return to England. I am certain Mackenzie will not care a whit. We can say that you found him entirely unsuitable so that her reputation won’t suffer.”
Lord Kent exchanged a look with his brother, who snickered darkly as he shook his head. His lordship was not so amused; he slowly turned his head. His gaze pierced Bernadette’s. “You’d like me to renege on our agreement,” he said flatly.
Bernadette swallowed. She nodded—that was precisely what she wanted.
There was a change in Lord Kent’s expression—his features seemed to turn harder. “I thought you more clever than that, Bernadette. Whatpossiblereason would I have to go back on the agreement?”
What reason? Was his daughter’s happiness not reason enough? Could he not understand how heartbroken his own flesh and blood had been made by this betrothal? “Avaline isinconsolable—” she began.
“Inconsolable?” he repeated loudly. “She’d be inconsolable if she lost a bloody slipper.”
Bernadette bristled at how he reduced his daughter’s tears to nothing more than a tantrum. “My lord, please believe me when I tell you she isdesperatelyunhappy.”
“I don’t care!” he shouted, and slammed his fist down onto the table so hard that he knocked the chess pieces over.
“Bloody hell, look what you’ve done!” Lord Ramsey exclaimed irritably.
Lord Kent surged to his feet, and his face, twisted with anger, only inches from hers. “There will be no revocation, Miss Holly. Avaline will marry that bloody savage whether she wants to or not. She will give him an heir, she will secure this land for her family. Do you understand?”
No, Bernadette didn’t understand, she would never understand, but found herself unable to speak when he loomed over her as he was.
“She best stop her constant complaints,” he said, pointing a bony finger at her. “I need that land that lies between Killeaven and Balhaire, and I need the Mackenzies to help me obtain it. That’s our access to the sea, do you understand? I will not have this arrangement fall apart because I have a weak, missish daughter who is unwilling to do her duty.”
Bernadette was shocked. While it was true she’d never seen any hint of affection flow from Lord Kent to his daughter, he was her father nonetheless. How could he be so uncaring?
Lord Kent shifted closer, his finger still pointing at her. “Neverask me this again,” he said, his voice menacing. “Neverspeakto me of this again, am I quite clear? If you cannot ready her for the wedding, then she will suffer in her marriage, and I carenot.”
Bernadette gaped in disbelief. She’d believed her father was rather unique in his heartlessness, but clearly he was not the only man who would treat his daughter as nothing more than a piece of property, no better than a horse to be traded, without the slightest twinge of conscience.
His message delivered, Lord Kent fell into his chair and drank his whisky. “I’ll say this for these savages—they distill a fine whisky,” he said, and tossed the contents down his throat.
“Walk on, girl,” said Lord Ramsey, waving her away, and then offering his glass to his brother to be refilled.
Bernadette couldn’t wait to be free of that room. She turned about and strode quickly to the door. She had not yet made her escape when Lord Kent stopped her. “Bernadette!”
She reluctantly turned back.
