“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.
“Ifyoudon’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 fearme,” 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. Themarquesswould 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 preventingthat, 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 behavior, and did not regret a single moment of it.
Her mood was buoyant. With an irrepressible grin, Olive dressed in plaits and breeches, and scooped up a carrot from the kitchen on her way out to the stables to exercise the horses.
A lover!
And not just any lover... she had Elijah Weston.
Her heart fluttered at the thought of his name. And the thought of his hands. And the thought of his mouth. And the thought of his—
