“Do you think I won’t do it? Of course I can. As you are so fond of pointing out, I’ve only a courtesy title. I’m not obliged to hand anything down to an ‘heir.’ If you side with the Harpers over your own father, I’d sooner entail my holdings to a dog than give a farthing of it to you.”
Splendid. Absolutely the outcome Eli had been hoping for when he’d knocked on the door. He was homeless, penniless, and prospect-less, in addition to being a deceitful two-faced blackguard.
Had he thought Olive’s reaction upon learning the truth was the worst he had to fear? Now he had nothing to offer her at all. Although Eli would play no further role in his father’s machinations, the marquess’s thirst for vengeance would double in strength.
Eli was an enemy now, too.
“Side with the Harpers over my own father?” he repeated hollowly. “When have you ever been a father to me?”
But there was no point attempting to mend the cracks in a bond that had never been whole to begin with. Every time Eli attempted to keep pieces together, his father was there to kick them apart. Theirs was not a relationship worth protecting.
Eli would fight for the ones that were.
“I gave you every opportunity—” his father began.
Eli turned toward the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the marquess roared, his voice ricocheting off the stone walls.
“I’m disowned,” Eli reminded him over his shoulder. “I don’t have to listen to your selfish tripe anymore.”
He yanked open the door.
“If you don’t do it,” came his father’s low, insidious voice, “I’ll find a way.”
Eli turned around, every muscle vibrating with the effort to control his rage.
“If you so much as whisper their names,” he said viciously, “you will regret it. Banishment won’t stop me. I keep your legacy in here.” Eli tapped his temple. “I know how you think. I know what you value. I know your tactics and your weaknesses and your fears.” He curled his lip. “You never fathered an heir. You forged your most powerful enemy with your own hands.”
His father stared at him, shocked and speechless.
“Don’t fear me,” Eli said relentlessly. “Fear the copy of yourself you created.”
He stalked out of the chamber, pulling the door shut behind him.
No footsteps followed him.
No shouts of anger.
Energy rushed through Eli’s veins. He’d done it. He’d given his conscienceless father something to fear. The gamble had worked.
Eli hadn’t the least idea how he’d make good on such a threat, but the beautiful part was that he wouldn’t have to.
The marquess believed fully in his own omnipotence, which would extend to his ability to father an equally powerful son. The marquess would be able to think of ways a motivated, ruthless enemy might damage him, and would scramble about shoring up perceived weaknesses, only to think of some other way, and throw himself into preventing that, and so on.
Perhaps not into infinity, but for months or even longer, the marquess would live in a hell of his own making. He would not dare to harm the Harpers until he was absolutely certain he’d left no vulnerability through which his son could retaliate against him.
Eli clattered down the marble steps, out through the castle doors, and into the brisk morning air.
The sunrise was glorious, but already the exhilaration from standing up against his father had begun to fade. While the dragon chased its tail, there was a fair maiden who deserved the full truth.
In doing so, Eli risked adding Olive-less to his homeless, penniless, and prospect-less future. He was not an attractive suitor from any logical perspective. His role in his father’s deception was by far the worst of his sins.
The wheels of destruction had been put in motion even before he’d arrived on her doorstep. His stomach clenched in shame.
Olive never deserved to be deceived and manipulated.
Eli did not deserve Olive.
Soon, she would know it, too.
Chapter 14
Olive did not wake up alone.
A maid was adding fresh kindling to the fire.
Olive stretched out her arm in alarm. The emptiness of a cold blanket was both a disappointment and a relief. As much as she missed Elijah’s warmth, Olive would rather wake alone than to the startled shrieks of a housemaid.
She felt different today. A little sore perhaps, which was to be expected, but this new sensation wasn’t physical. It was more internal than that. She had taken a lover! She, who had only ever had one kiss, had spent the past nine days comporting herself with increasingly scandalous