If you choose to rebel again, not only against me but the King of England, you'll lose your inheritance. Obviously no one can take your title away from you... and you will be Duke of Aylesbury when I die. But you would receive nothing else. Henry has agreed to make Rupert a baron this year, and upon my death all my wealth and estates would pass to him."
Sandhurst couldn't bear to look at his father any longer. Dazedly he walked to the window, every muscle in his body clenched. Yet through his rage he had to repress an urge to laugh wildly at the sheer lunacy of the situation.
"Your bride arrives in April. Her name is Micheline Tevoulere," the duke continued, his tone triumphant now. "You'll be married at Aylesbury Castle, of course, and King Henry has assured me that he intends to be present to join in the festive celebrations!"
* * *
A fire blazed in the winter parlor of Lord Sandhurst's town house, casting shadows that leaped and danced up the walls. On one side of the chamber his lordship presided over a table covered with the remains of supper. He was alone except for his friend Sir Jeremy Culpepper, who nibbled leftover bits of cheese, meat pie, and a fig someone had discarded after one bite.
"I still can't believe it," Sandhurst muttered. He'd lost count of the tankards of ale he'd consumed that day. Raising the latest, he took a long drink and sighed loudly.
"You've said that already," Jeremy complained. "Dozens of times. What's that little carcass on your dish? Quail? Did you pick it clean?"
Glancing heavenward, he pushed the plate across the table. "How can you eat at a time like this?"
"I'm not the one getting married to a stranger... from France," Culpepper replied cheerfully. "D'you suppose the chit speaks English at all? What'll you do if she can't learn?"
Leveling a deadly stare at his friend, Lord Sandhurst said, "If you find this amusing, you can go upstairs and have a few laughs with my father." He drank again, then added, "Besides, now that the shock's wearing off and I've had the day to think about it, I've decided not to participate in this farce."
Sir Jeremy Culpepper was a pudgy young man with curly blond hair, an unguarded tongue, and a tendency to flush when overcome by emotion. His cheeks were quite red now as he cried, "Be reasonable, old fellow! You'll be ruined if you refuse to go along with this plan of the king's! Not only will you be penniless, but you'll be shunned at court. Come to think of it, you'll be shunned by everyone!"
"Say no more," Sandhurst mocked. "You're scaring me!"
"But how would you live?"
He felt himself relaxing, muscles untensing as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I believe that I could make my own way rather well. You know, this house is mine. I bought it with profits from the horses I breed in Gloucestershire. I could sell it and buy another place in the country, then support myself with the horses." He paused, brightening. "The prospect of being out from under my father's thumb is rather appealing, actually."
"Look here, you've got to consider this matter carefully! You're talking about a decision that would affect not only your life but also the lives of your descendants. Just because you chafe under your father's admittedly overbearing efforts to dominate you, that's no reason to punish your offspring! He's an old man; he'll be dead soon. How will you feel then if you're breeding horses at some manor house while that ticklebrain Rupert is lord of Aylesbury Castle and the Sandhurst estates in Gloucestershire?! What will you tell your children? Don't raise that eyebrow at me! One day you'll have a family. How will your children feel when they grow up and Rupert's offspring own what's rightfully theirs?" Jeremy paused, breathing hard, then leaned forward to play his ace. "And what do you think your mother would say if she were here?"
Sandhurst wasn't smiling anymore. He closed his eyes and drained the tankard of ale. "I refuse to go like a lamb to the slaughter, Jeremy." He sighed. "My father would have a collar and a leash fitted for me, and I'd be angry for the rest of my life." After a brief pause, he added, "Even angrier than I am already."
"I know, I know. And you'd doubtless take it out on your poor little French wife, and then on your