Page 69 of Love Denied

She released her lip and smiled tentatively. He wanted to seize her, to kiss her until she no longer held doubt in her heart. He shook his head. Now was not the time.

Instead, he snatched his jacket and shrugged it on. He held her gaze as he fastened it, then extended his hand. “Come, my love. Let us beard the lion together.”

She curled her hand around his arm, and they exited his chambers. He glanced over the balustrade as they made their way to the staircase. Fredericks’s shock of white hair paced back and forth in the vestibule. It seemed today’s events had even unnerved the ever-staid butler.

Hearing them, Fredericks ceased his striding and moved to the base of the flight of stairs, standing stock-still. When Nicholas and Catherine reached the foyer, Fredericks’s face was impassive. If Nicholas had not seen the man’s agitation for himself, he would believe the facade. Fredericks had seen both boys from leading strings to manhood. Of course he was disturbed by this turn of events.

“Your father is waiting,” he said quietly, hesitating as though he wanted to say something further.

“What is it, Fredericks?” Nicholas asked.

Fredericks’s gnarled hand clasped Nicholas’s shoulder. “Lord Woodfield is a proud man. You have lost a brother. Remember, he has lost a son. He, too, suffers. Do not let his manner lead you to believe otherwise.”

Nicholas covered the old man’s hand with his. “I will do my best.”

Fredericks nodded and opened the door. Nicholas’s father sat in his usual place, wrapped in a blanket by a well-fed fire.

“Father?” Fredericks’s warning had unnerved Nicholas, made him cautious.

The earl did not look toward him, but he did gesture to a chair. Catherine smiled at Nicholas, worry muting her eyes. He held out his hand, and she placed hers in it. Together they walked to the chair.

“Please, Catherine, sit,” he said, drawing the attention of his father.

The earl’s gray eyebrows furrowed. “The gel should not be here. This is family business.”

Nicholas stood behind the chair, placing a hand on Catherine’s shoulder, determined to remain calm. “Sheisfamily.”

“Just because you foolishly proceeded with marrying her doesn’t make her family.” The old man glared at him.

Catherine stiffened and reached up to hold Nicholas’s hand. Fury ignited, but he dampened its full force for her sake. “You are out of line, sir. She is my wife, and you will treat her as such or you will sit alone.”

She gently squeezed his hand. Seated before the lion himself, she did not cower. He had never been prouder.

His father’s face went a deep crimson with the chastisement, and rather than be satisfied with his discomfort, suddenly Nicholas couldn’t let it be.Damn it!The man had created this mess.

“Catherine is the woman who was willing to give up everything for love of both your sons. Loyalty and sacrifice. Is that not your refrain for family, Father?” He didn’t even try to keep the bitter sarcasm from his voice. “Where were those attributes when Daniel needed you?”

“Nicholas!” Catherine broke into his stream of anger, and his father sputtered.

“I do apologize, sire. That too was out of line,” Nicholas said.

The old man’s face caved and his shoulders collapsed as he fell back into the chair and stared at the fire. “I am unable to fathom…” His father clutched the armrest. “I cannot condone…” He reached out, his hand floundering on the table beside his chair, searching, his ruddy face suddenly ashen.

A surge of sympathy impelled Nicholas to walk over and pour a glass of port before pressing it into the old man’s grip. Lord Woodfield held his hand there for a brief moment, his eyes darkened with pain. The only other time Nicholas had seen such raw emotion was when his mother had died. He returned to his position behind Catherine, gripping her chair to steady himself. His father’s touch, his vulnerability, had been distressing.

They both watched his father drink some port, color seeping back into his face. He fisted the paper that sat on his lap. Nicholas did not need to read it to know its contents. It was as he suspected. His father already knew. Whoever was attempting this extortion was thorough.

“Do what you have to do. I’ll not have my son’s name sullied.” Lord Woodfield raised the glass to his lips with a trembling hand and reverted to staring at the fire. Even in this shared pain, Nicholas was dismissed.

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