Page 57 of Stolen By the Cruel Duke
Her father continued, “I don’t think we will have to let it get that far. I am sure that Mr. Hargrove here has no desire to notarize and sign documents that spread salacious lies about a member of the peerage, do you, Mr. Hargrove?”
As one, every person in the room turned to look at the solicitor, who blanched under the stare of so many people.
“I-I am deeply concerned by any accusation of dishonesty,” he mumbled, stuttering over his words. “However, if the lady wants to make a statement, that is her right to do so…”
“Is it, though?” Lord Carfield took another step forward into the room. “Lady Carfield is my wife, and if I say she cannot sign a document accusing me of grievous—and most untrue—crimes, then I believe she does not have the right to do so.”
Mr. Hargrove licked his lips nervously, just as Iris felt her stomach drop.
Is that true?
She turned to look at her mother. Lady Carfield looked similarly unsure, but she set her jaw and flashed a warning look at Iris that seemed to say,Give nothing away.
“If Lady Carfield wishes to make a statement, there is no legal requirement that she get permission from her husband,” Mr. Hargrove stated.
“But if I order my wife home, then thereisthe requirement that she obey me, is there not?”
Mr. Hargrove pushed his glasses up his nose, which was beginning to sweat. “Technically, yes… a husband is entitled to his wife’s body if no formal separation has been declared.”
Iris gasped, and Lady Carfield shot her another warning glare.
Turning to Lady Carfield, the Viscount’s eyes seemed to glitter with malice. “Then I would like to insist that my wife accompany me back to my home,” he purred. “Unless, of course, she refuses to sign this despicable document.”
“Don’t listen to him, Mother!” Iris cried, banging her fist down hard on the desk, startling everyone. “Once he is arrested, he won’t be able to order you around anymore!”
“It will take several days for this flimsy piece of evidence to be brought before a judge,” Lord Carfield continued as if he hadn’t heard her, “who is the only person who can issue a warrant allowing the Bow Street Runners to make an arrest. That is if the judge is foolish enough to believe such things. But I’m sure there are not many who would, especially considering how friendly I am with the judges of our fine legal system…”
Friendly…
Iris inwardly scoffed. So the judges were on his payroll as well.
“And in those few days, I am sure that there would be plenty of time for Bridget and me to… get reacquainted.”
“What are you threatening to do to her?” Iris hissed through gritted teeth, but she had a feeling she already knew.
Her father had already proven he was a killer. What would stop him from disposing of Lady Carfield and her witness statement, should he force her to return home with him? The thought filled Iris with sick dread. And then another thought came to mind—Violet and Rosalie! He could also threaten to kill them if Lady Carfield didn’t go home with him.
But she knew, deep in her heart, that her mother was the one he wanted dead. Iris knew it because Lady Carfield, and her signature, had the power to ruin him forever. And she knew it from the look of pure venom on his face. Lady Carfield had left him, after all, humiliating him in front of the ton. If there was anyone that Iris thought her father might hate more than her, it was her mother.
His next words only confirmed this theory.
“Oh, how I have longed for this day,” he murmured, taking another step towards her mother. He seemed to be in a trance, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on her. “All these years, I waited for you to return to me, biding my time, knowing that if I forced you at the wrong moment, I would lose the opportunity to turn it to my advantage. I knew where you were, of course. I kept tabs on you, had you followed, ensured that you never saw your daughters or were able to contact them. Of course, when you tried, I read the letters before I burned them. But still, throughout all that time, knowing where you were and what you did, I never forced you to return to me.
“In that way, I have been generous to you. I very easily could have forced you to return home to care for the children and husband you abandoned. Did you know it’s legal for a husband to sue his wife for leaving him and depriving him of someone to manage his home?” He laughed, as if this were amusing. “But no, I never did that. Instead, I waited, patiently, for the right moment, for an opportunity to both thwart your plans against meandget my beloved wife back under my roof.”
“Beloved wife?” The disgust on Lady Carfield’s face and in her voice was palpable. “You have never thought of me as yourbeloved wifefor even a moment! From the very first day of our marriage, you proved to be nothing but a cruel, vindictive man without an ounce of love or care in your heart!”
“How can you say that, my dear?” The Viscount’s smile was so twisted and terrible that Iris felt her stomach lurch in disgust. “I have always valued you highly.”
Lady Carfield tossed her head, her eyes sparkling with rage. “You valued me for the one thing you value women for—producing heirs! Even before you realized I would never give you one, you treated me with contempt, telling me how incapable I was of running your house, that I was not elegant or beautiful enough, that you only married me for my dowry. The only time the string of abuse ever let up was when I was with child. Even then, your care only extended to my physical comforts, never to my emotional well-being. And each time I birthed a girl, you greeted the news with even more hatred for me. You never valued me, My Lord. Maybe you might have if I had borne a son. But I am glad I did not, because it taught me your true character—a man who only values women for breeding.”
The look on Lord Carfield’s face had soured. “Well, what else are women good for?” he growled. “You were brought up to serve your husband and give him heirs, and you couldn’t even do that!” He looked around at Iris, the contempt on his face growing. “Three daughters! It is an unimaginable crime to give your husband only daughters and no heir! And you wonder why I didn’t cherish you.”
“An unimaginable crime is the one you committed!” Lady Carfield exclaimed. “And which you forced me to partake in. No, I will not say forced, for you never explicitly made me sign the bill of sale. But throughout years of making me feel small, of telling me what a disappointment I was to you and how much you despised me, you made it impossible to advocate for myself and my daughters. I was beaten down.”
“Beaten down!” Lord Carfield scoffed. “You were born to a man whose father had been in trade and who had married up when he ran off with the daughter of a minor landowner. Marrying me was the best thing that ever happened to you! I elevated you! I gave you a place in Society. Without me, you would never have been able to move in the most exclusive circles in the land. Yes, I can be severe. I expect nothing but perfection from those who have the honor to bear my name. But you should have been grateful to me.”
Lady Carfield shook her head. “Well, I’m grateful for my daughters, but other than that, I have never felt an ounce of gratitude toward you. Except perhaps that you were so abominable that even children could sense it, and chose to grow up as different from you as was possible. For that, yes, I am grateful.”
