“If you wish to punish her, or lock her away in an asylum, no one will fault you.”
Good lord. I wasn’t fond of Miranda, but she wasn’t some insane relative to lock away. “Have you always had such little regard for your own sex?”
She seemed startled by my question. “Women must obey our husbands. It says so in the bible.”
“It’s funny to me how people always seem to bring up the bible when it suits their needs.” I moved toward the door. And my father’s success certainly suited her needs. Yes, she would continue to support my father because it benefited her. “However, you and I both know you are far from weak, mother.”
“A strong woman allows her husband to lead,” my father added. “Realizes that a husband knows best.”
Ginny would have laughed at such nonsense. Hell, even my mother should have been laughing. But I realized in that moment that she was more manipulative than even I had thought. She let my father assume he led, all the while doing as she pleased.
“Lead?” I snapped. “Yes, lead the family into one bad investment after another.”
“How dare you,” he hissed.
“I don’t know what has gotten into you lately,” Mother said. “But it stops now, Gabriel. We have too much at stake here. The family is counting on you.”
“What if I no longer want what you want? What if I’m damn tired of picking up the pieces where you two have failed?”
If they could have killed me in that moment, I swore they would have.
“Tired of the respect?” She stood, smoothing down her skirts. “Do you truly believe you can thrive without your title? Without the prestige and benefits that title brings?”
I knew I could, but I didn’t bother to respond. Hadn’t Chris and I done without most of our childhood, until my uncle had died? My parents had used what little money we had to entertain themselves in London, leaving us at a cold estate, feeding off of porridge and bread for most meals.
“Goodbye, Mother, Father.” I turned to leave. I had no more to say. They might have been my parents, but I owed them nothing.
“Is this about the girl who works at the seamstress shop?” my father demanded.
I spun around, my anger burning. “You had me followed?”
My father’s eyes narrowed into a glare. He hated me. Hated that I was young and fit, and would reap the rewards his brother had left, while he was old and dying. But I hadn’t expected him to actually care enough about my activities to have me followed. Hell, they’d had Ginny watched?
“Yes. I’ve had you followed ever since you turned eighteen.”
My anger grew. “Did you speak to her?”
“Of course not,” Mother added. “She’s the girl you brought to the ball that year ago, am I correct?”
She remembered. Hell, I never should have taken Ginny to that ball; it had been selfish on my part. And she’d been right. I could admit that now. Part of me had escorted Ginny, had humiliated her, to tell my parents and society to go to hell. “That is none of your business.”
“You are my son,” my father growled. “Everything you do is my business.”
I started toward the door. “If that is all, I really am rather busy. I’m sure you can see yourselves out.”
“You will not go to that woman!” my father roared.
I didn’t even pause. “You can’t stop me. You no longer have control.”
“What about Tommy?”
I froze near the door.
“Oh yes, we know his name,” my father hissed. “We know you’re paying for his schooling. And we know where he is.”
A shiver of unease whispered down my spine. What else did they know? My hands curled; my heart flipped inside my chest. Could I get to him in time before they did? Or did they already have someone watching him?
“It didn’t take much digging, but we uncovered the truth,” Father added. “He looks so like my brother.”
Slowly, I turned. My face felt frozen, my blood chilled. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He snorted as he shuffled to his feet. Seeing him so weak gave me no satisfaction, for I knew that like a wounded animal, he was even more dangerous now. “You think I don’t know my own brother’s face? I saw him immediately in the child.”
“Does the boy know who he is?” my mother asked. “Who you are?”
I didn’t respond.
My father shuffled toward me. His ears were red again. “What, exactly, was your plan? Hide away the bastard?”