“Seger, how can you take Clara’s side, when she has been dishonest and—”
“She has been wronged, Quintina. By both you and Gillian, and I will see the two of you gone from this house by nightfall.”
Both women were shocked into silence.
Quintina managed to gather her composure. “Seger, you married Clara impulsively, without a clear understanding of her nature. We now know that she is deceitful, and she has seduced you into believing her. It is not too late. We can get you out of this.”
He shook his head. “No, madam. You are the deceitful one. You destroyed me years ago when you came between Daphne and me and informed me that she was dead. You will not do so again.”
“Idid not come between you. It was Daphne’s choice to leave, and you cannot blame me for her death.”
He took another slow step toward Quintina. His voice became hushed, almost a whisper. “We both know that Daphne is very much alive.”
All the sounds in the room—the ticking of the clock, the snapping of the fire in the grate—seemed to recede into nothingness.
Eyes wide, Quintina stared up at Seger. “I know no such thing.”
“I’ve heard enough of your lies.” He turned his steely gaze to Gillian. “And I’ve seen enough cruelty. Clara is my wife, and her happiness is my primary concern.”
Quintina made a desperate move to grasp his arm. “You are not thinking clearly, Seger. Jealousy over this Tucker fellow has turned your head.”
He moved toward the door. “There has never been more clarity in my mind than there is at this moment.” He stopped, however, when Gillian tossed her embroidery onto the floor and shouted at him.
“It wasn’t my doing, Seger! Quintina was the one who talked me into everything!”
He recognized the desperation in her voice, saw it in her eyes, but it was too late for that. “You have a mind of your own, Gillian. You could have used it.” He faced his stepmother. “I will wire your brother in Wales and inform him that you and Gillian are on your way to his home. I will also ensure that you are settled with an adequate sum to live on, Quintina, since you are by rights my father’s widow. All I require in return is that you never set foot in this house again.”
With that, he left the room and returned to his coach. “Take me to Wentworth House,” he instructed the driver, hoping that he would find his wife there, and that she would agree to hear him out.
Seger stood beneath the portico at Wentworth House, asking the butler if Lady Rawdon was inside. The man did not answer the question. He simply invited Seger in and escorted him to the duke’s oak-paneled study to wait.
Wonderful,Seger thought, preparing himself for the certain advent of the so-called “Dangerous Duke’s” infamous wrath.Bloody hell,he didn’t have time for this. He only wanted to talk to Clara.
Finally, the door of the study swung open, and James walked in. He stood tall and grim just inside the door, stared at Seger for a moment, then crossed the room and poured two glasses of brandy.
He handed one to Seger, and said, “This is disturbingly familiar.”
Seger accepted the glass, then set it down on the desk without touching it. “Is Clara here?”
James regarded him, then set his own glass down as well. “You made me a promise once, Rawdon, that you would not treat my sister-in-law carelessly.”
“Yes.”
“It seems you have not kept your word.”
Seger clenched his jaw. “No, I have not. I have hurt her, and I know that. But you can rest assured that I have not been unfaithful to her, nor have I ever come close to entertaining the notion.”
James considered Seger’s defense. “That’s not what Clara believes—not after what happened this morning.”
“She’s here, then?” Seger asked, clutching at the hope that he would be able to make things right.
“Yes.”
Seger felt the pressure lift from his chest. “I need to see her.”
“But she doesn’t want to seeyou.”
“Did she actually say that?” Seger asked. “Or are you just trying to protect her?”
