Page 112 of The Make-Believe Marriage
The wait ended up dragging on for another thirty minutes, but Octavian was in no hurry. As it turned out, neither was Syd. When Stanford wheeled in the tea cart filled with some of Syd’s favorite treats, she pounced on the scones that were served along with their tea. This was because she hadn’t eaten anything last night or this morning, and was now hungry.
She was also primed for battle.
Her father was the first to walk in.
“Thorne,” he muttered as Octavian rose to greet him with an outstretched hand. “I know you think very little of me, and with good reason. But not even I was prepared for what happened yesterday. Shall we start? I do not think Lady Harcourt will bedown anytime soon. She never leaves her bedchamber before noon.”
Syd jumped to her feet, her hands curled into fists to mark her irritation. “I’ll fetch her.”
“No,” Octavian said. “I’d rather we speak to your father first.”
He knew Syd was impatient to learn the truth. However, it was best learned by keeping those two apart and hearing each version of the story. He expected each of them to lie, but somewhere along the way they might drop a few kernels of truth.
Syd sat back down without protest. “All right. You know best, Octavian.”
He chuckled.
Was he hearing right? Headstrong Syd deferring to his judgement?
She cast him an impishly loving grin. “You do on occasion make good sense.”
Now that she had finished her second scone, he took her hand and held it in his. He intended to keep hold of her for no logical reason. She was no longer fragile or suffering. Nor was she going to run away from this meeting. She had been extremely hurt by her parents and wanted answers.
He was here to protect her.
In truth, Syd had him and his family, along with her circle of excellent friends to make up for any loss of family connection, should it turn out she was not their daughter.
Her so-called mother would surely sever all ties.
However, he did not think Harcourt would. Even if they were not related by blood, there was no mistaking he and Syd cared for each other.
The bounder, for all his lying, cheating ways, appeared to have a place in his heart for her. Not enough to prevent him from selling her off, however. His words of contrition were not enough to absolve him of that selfish act.
Octavian still did not like the man and was in no rush to forgive him his sins.
He liked Syd’s mother even less. Syd had tried to be a good daughter to her. For all her efforts, she had been icily rebuffed every time. As far as Octavian was concerned, Syd had fulfilled any duty she owed this woman. Why should Syd ache over her when the cold witch did not care enough to join them in the parlor?
“Papa,” Syd said, “it is time to tell me the truth.”
“All of it,” Octavian added. “Syd deserves to know.”
Her father nodded. “I will not come out looking very good in this.”
“Papa, how much worse can you look? You are a liar, a very bad gambler, and an even worse businessman. You sold my cousin to your last creditor, and–”
“It was a love match! It all worked out, did it not?”
“Yes,” Syd admitted. “But you did not know it would. And do not forget, you tried to fob me off on him first.”
Her father shook his head in disagreement. “I knew he was a good man. That’s why I hoped to marry you off to him last year. It would have been the perfect solution, but you wouldn’t do it. I suppose you loved Thorne even back then. You could have told me. So, your cousin got him instead and is deliriously happy now that she is married to him.”
“Lucky for you,” Syd muttered.
“No, not lucky for me at all. In truth, I was sorry that I had tried to swindle him. He was sharp and quickly caught me in the act. And now he owns the business entirely and is making a fortune off it. Is this not punishment enough for me?”
“You could have shared in the profits if you had kept your larcenous hands out of the till.” Syd frowned at him. “And having learned not a single lesson from it, you quickly got yourself caught up with Sir Henry Maxwell.”
Her father frowned. “I’m sure he cheated me.”
