Page 83 of The Heir
“His Grace,” Anna said, the fight going out of her suddenly. “Your thrice damned, interfering ass of a father, abetted by the toad.”
“I will dismiss Stenson before sunset,” Westhaven assured her. “I will confront my father, as well. Just one request, Anna.”
She met his gaze squarely, still upset but apparently willing to shift the focus of her rage.
“Be here when I return,” he said, holding her gaze. She huffed out a breath, nodded once, and dropped her eyes.
“Be here.” He walked up to her and put his arms around her. She went willingly, to his relief, and held on to him tightly. “Do not pack, do not warn Morgan, do not pawn the silver, do not panic. Be here and try, just try, to find some ability to trust me.”
When he was sure she’d calmed down, Westhaven whipped open the library door to find both his brothers lounging against the wall, munching cookies.
“You lot, look after Anna and Morgan. Don’t hold the meals for me.” He stalked off, bellowing for Pericles, leaving Anna standing shakily between Dev and Val.
“You are no fun,” Dev said, passing Anna a cookie. “We couldn’t hear a thing, and we were sure you were going to tear a strip off the earl. Nobody tears a strip off Westhaven, not Her Grace, not His Grace, not even Pericles.”
“Rose could,” Val speculated, handing his drink to Anna. “Come along.” He put an arm around Anna’s shoulders. “We’ll teach you how to cheat at cribbage, and you can tell us what we missed.”
“I already know how to cheat at cribbage,” Anna said dumbly, staring at the drink and cookie in her hands.
“Teach that in housekeeper school now, do they?” Dev closed the library door behind them. “Well, then we’ll teach you some naughty rugby songs instead. She’s going to cry, Val. Best get your hankie at the ready.”
“I am not going to cry,” Anna said, shoulders stiff. But then she took a funny gulpy breath and two monogrammed handkerchiefs were thrust in her direction. She turned her face into Val’s muscular shoulder and bawled while Dev rescued the drink and cookies.
“Mother.” Westhaven bowed over Her Grace’s hand. “I should have listened to you more closely.”
“A mother delights in hearing those sentiments from her children, regardless of the provocation,” Her Grace responded, “though I am at a loss to divine your reference.”
“You tried to tell me at breakfast the other week.” Westhaven ran a hand through his hair. “His Grace is off on another wild start, isn’t he?”
“Frequently,” the duchess said. “But I wasn’t warning you of anything in particular, just the need to exercise discretion with your staff and your personal activities.”
“My housekeeper, you mean.” Westhaven arched an eyebrow at her. “Somehow, the old bastard got wind of Anna Seaton and set his dogs on her.”
“Westhaven.” The duchess’s regard turned chilly. “You will not refer to your father in such terms.”
“Right.” Westhaven shuttered his expression. “That would insult my half brother, who is an honorable man.”
“Westhaven!” The duchess’s expression grew alarmed rather than insulted.
“Forgive me, Mother.” He bowed. “My argument is with my father.”
“Well,” the duke announced himself and paused for dramatic effect in the doorway of the private parlor. “No need to look further. You can have at me now.”
“You are having Anna Seaton investigated,” the earl said, “and it could well cost her her safety.”
“Then marry her,” the duke shot back. “A husband can protect a wife, particularly if he’s wealthy, titled, smart, and well connected. Your mother has assured me she does not object to the match.”
“You don’t deny this? Do you have any idea the damage you do with your dirty tricks, sly maneuvers, and stupid manipulations? That woman is terrified, nigh paralyzed with fear for herself and her younger relation, and you go stomping about in her life as if you are God Almighty come to earth for the purpose of directing everybody else’s personal life.”
The duke paced into the room, color rising in his face.
“That is mighty brave talk for a man who can’t see fit to take a damned wife after almost ten years of looking. What in God’s name is wrong with you, Westhaven? I know you cater to women, and I know you are carrying on with this Seaton woman. She’s comely, convenient, and of child-bearing age. I should have thought to have her investigated, I tell you, so I might find some way to coerce her to the altar.”
“You already tried coercion,” Westhaven shot back, “and it’s only because Gwen Allen is a decent human being her relations haven’t ruined us completely in retaliation for your failed schemes. I am ashamed to be your son and worse than ashamed to be your heir. You embarrass me, and I wish to hell I could disinherit you, because if I don’t find you a damned broodmare, I’ve every expectation you will disinherit me.”
“Gayle!” His mother was on her feet, her expression horror-stricken. “Please, for the love of God, apologize. His Grace did not have Mrs. Seaton investigated.”
“Esther…” His Grace tried to get words out, but his wife had eyes only for her enraged son.
