she is safe.”
Letters had come sporadically, smuggled to him from sympathetic servants, so he knew she was alive, and that she cared deeply about him and worried about him. It had been a relief to know she was doing well, even if she was helpless to save him.
His father’s death had been the only thing that could rescue him.
“So you’re not here about my mother, then.”
His grandmother’s expression grew somber. “No. But I need to interfere where I wasn’t able to before.” She took a deep breath. “It seems that your heir, Mr. John Davies, has some of your father’s more . . . unpleasant habits.” She paused. “You hadn’t heard?”
Nash shook his head no as he bit back a snarl, his grip on the armrests tightening. “I don’t speak to many members of the family.” At least not the legitimate ones.
“I have it on good authority that you are not at all like my son.” He could hear the pain and regret in her voice. She took a deep breath and gave him an intent, purposeful look. “The dukes of Malvern stretch back to Henry VIII’s reign, and it is an honorable title.”
“Honorable until my father.” Memories flooded his brain, memories he usually expunged by getting into a brawl, or drowning with brandy. His mother, pleading with his father not to hit her. A young Nash grabbing his father’s arm so he wouldn’t strike again.
A young Nash splayed out on the floor, his nose broken.
She spoke again. “I have heard rumors that you intend never to marry.”
Because he would not subject any woman to the possibility of his father’s behavior. He’d lost count of how many times his father had reminded him that they were alike—that it was inevitable that Nash would eventually unleash his temper on an innocent.
She continued in an urgent tone of voice. “But you must. The sooner your cousin has no possibility of inheriting, the better. He has heard the same rumors about you, and is borrowing heavily against his future, and his behavior is growing bolder. It is therefore imperative that you marry and produce an heir. Immediately.”
Nash’s throat closed over.
“I will stay here to assist you in your search for a bride,” she announced. “It must be a lady of the highest birth, one who will do her duty as your duchess and provide children.”
“What? No!” Nash said, leaping to his feet. He didn’t know if he was saying no to her staying with him or a bride.
He just knew he didn’t want any of it. He eased himself back into his chair, forcing himself to breathe evenly.
“Stand up.”
He rose before he’d realized he’d obeyed her orders.
“You are quite handsome.” It didn’t necessarily sound like a compliment. “Excellent height, and your shoulders are quite broad. More suitable for a blacksmith than a duke, wouldn’t you say?” she said, turning to look at her lady’s maid. She turned back around without waiting for a reply. “We’ll have to ensure you are dressed properly, and that your hair is neat, although I understand some ladies like that disheveled look.” Her tone was disapproving.
“I’ve never had complaints before,” Nash said, folding his arms over his chest.
His grandmother made another one of those disdainful sniffs. He did like her, in spite of what she was asking him to do.
What she was asking him to do—he’d almost forgotten. He sat down abruptly, the chair moaning its displeasure. “I will not get married.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “Do you want another duke like your father? Do you want to allow someone like that to oversee the tenants and the household staff?” She raised her chin. “I have heard of your kindness toward Richard’s . . . mistakes,” she said. As though a child was a mistake. “Do you want your cousin to have power over them?”
“Fuck.”
Her horrified expression told him he’d said the word aloud.
“My carriage is arriving soon with my luggage. If you will ring for your butler I will retire to my chambers.” She rose as she spoke, and Nash saw her wobble for a moment before her maid clasped her arm to steady her.
Nash gritted his teeth. “Yes, Your Grace.”
Because what else was he to say? The lady was determined to stay, and he couldn’t very well throw her out, even though she had woken him up to demand he marry, the one thing he did not want to do. Ever.
Not to mention she poked him with a cane.
But she was his family, and she