Page 85 of The Iron Earl

“Where’s Falsted?”

Staring at the fire, his cane propped under his chin, the marquess didn’t lift his gaze to his grandson. “He is being shown to the north tower.” His aged eyes, still far too canny, lifted from the fire to Lachlan.

“How could you do that, Grandfather? Letting that monster into our home?”

“How could I do that? How could ye do that, Lach? Bringing that girl into our home? With one fell swoop of yer fool cock ye lost half of the funds that were to build the factory in order to compensate Inverton for the broken betrothal. And then ye continue to lay with the daughter of the devil. Yer the one that betrayed yer brother.”

“And you’re the one that just invited the devil himself into our home.” Lachlan sighed, his fingers running across his eyes. “Taking Evalyn as my wife is no betrayal to Jacob—she is an innocent in this.”

“Ha. If ye believed that yer voice would be ringing with conviction, boy. Ye be the one that betrayed yer kin, and now I’m bound to make good on yer mistakes. Make the bastard pay.”

Lachlan froze, ice filling his veins. “He’s paying you for her?”

“Aye. The land between our western border and Fulton’s Ridge. It’s ours if we give him the girl back, marriage divorced.”

“Bloody fucking hell.” Lachlan exploded, the boom of his voice echoing into the tall dark corners of the room.

“It’s what little we can salvage, Lach.” The marquess leaned back in his chair, settling his cane across his lap, the matter settled.

Lachlan strode to his grandfather, planting himself inches away, leaning over him. “Evalyn is not yours to sell, you foolish old buzzard. She’s my damn wife and if you don’t stop interfering this instant I will leave these lands and never return.”

The marquess’s wiry white eyebrows lifted, slanting inward. “Ye would never.”

Lachlan scoffed. “No, you have the wrong grandson—that was Jacob that would never abandon Vinehill. But I’m not Jacob, Grandfather.”

“Ha, ye don’t possess the audacity, boy.”

“You don’t know me at all, do you?” Lachlan stood straight, his head shaking. “I don’t need these lands. These coffers. I own enough investments that Evalyn and I will do quite well on our own—with or without Vinehill.”

“Ye ungrateful whelp.”

“Not ungrateful—practical, Grandfather. I wasn’t going to serve the crown forever. I knew that. I was ready for a life—my own life away from Vinehill before Jacob died. And as much as you like to think you can—you can’t control me like you did Jacob. Not by far.”

“So what, ye little wretch? Yer going to walk away from here for what? For that wisp of a girl ye’ll tire of in six months’ time? Walk away to prove yer a man? Yer no man, boy—not yet. Ye still haven’t learned to control yerself, for if ye did ye never would have married that whore of a girl.”

Lachlan stilled.

Too far.

He’d gone too far.

Insult him, Lachlan was used to it.

But to call his wife a whore?

Lachlan leaned over his grandfather, his movements lethal as his fingers went down to grip the arms of the wingback chair. “My hands are staying off your neck for that insult, Grandfather—that alone proves what control I possess.” He exhaled a seething breath. “You’re engulfed in a frenzy of spite, old man—you have been since my parents and your wife died. And when Jacob died it swallowed you whole and now you can spew nothing but hatred into the world. Hatred for me, for Sloane—for your own blood. Hatred that has nothing to do with Evalyn.”

“Ye don’t ken what I’ve done for ye, boy.” The marquess’s lip sneered. “And now I’m to be vilified because I’m trying to keep this estate alive for ye—for the next in line, for the legacy?”

Lachlan’s brow furrowed. “A legacy? This is how you think to leave a legacy? You don’t know—”

A sharp knock on the door cut into Lachlan’s words and the door opened.

Dammit, whoever was daring to come in was going to get knocked on their ass. Everyone in the castle knew not to interrupt one of their brutal rows.

Lachlan pushed away from his grandfather’s chair, spinning to the doorway.

Their solicitor scurried into the room, his head nodding to both men. “Edward, Lachlan.”

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