Dylan shuddered, afraid to believe Michael’s words. “Do you think I’d have joined the army if I’d known? Do you think I’d beg Father for a stipend every month if I had anything of my own?”
“He told me you spent all the money.” Michael’s voice trembled with dawning understanding. “He said you had gambling debts and were too much of a wastrel to want the responsibility of running an estate of your own.”
“That bastard.” Dylan faced Michael again, not bothering to hide his anguish. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?”
“I thought you knew.” Michael looked sick about the whole matter.
“He’s kept this from me ever since grandfather died? He’s purposely made me dependent on him?” Dylan’s fury mounted, but with it came an overwhelming sense of excitement.
Aldabaran is mine.
“I’m sorry. I’ve always hated the mere thought of the place… Because of Mother. I figured you felt the same way.”
“Mother loved it there,” Dylan whispered. “That’s why she went there to die.”
Michael swallowed hard and looked away. “You should go to Edinburgh. Speak to the solicitor, Mr. Byrnes. I believe he is in charge of your trust.”
“I will. But first, I’m going to confront Father.” The old bastard had a lot to answer for.
“Go to Scotland first,” Michael advised, his face grim. “Secure your assets, think things through. Then come back and speak to Father.”
When Dylan started to protest, Michael silenced him with a swift hard hug. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why he treats you this way.”
Michael’s unexpected generosity made Dylan feel like the worst kind of an ass. Once again, Michael had proven himself to be the better man.
“If you pay off my debt to Jonathan, I won’t dance with Natalia. But I must warn you, she’s already promised to a Russian prince.” Dylan hoped to make amends by telling his brother the truth, guilty for not having done so in the beginning.
Michael laughed and squeezed Dylan once more before he let him go. “Thanks for the warning, little brother. But I’m not worried. You’re far more competition than any prince could ever be.”
Chapter Nine
Natalia’s heart pounded with nervous anticipation when the Blake brothers returned to the ballroom. They’d left half an hour ago, and she had been on pins and needles ever since. She liked both men and didn’t want to be the cause of any further strain in their relationship.
Sherbourne scanned the room. When his gaze lit upon Natalia, he gave her a bright smile. Whenever he and the captain had discussed, he was obviously pleased with the result.
Captain Blake, however, refused to meet her gaze.
Oh, this was so unfair! Apparently, they’d decided Sherbourne was to have her.
Why had the captain bowed to his brother’s demands? How could he? She didn’t want him to give up on her now. Not when she was finally ready to take a chance and discover whether the reality of being in his arms lived up to the promise in his burning gray eyes.
Viscount Sherbourne had claimed her as his prize, but he had no right. His Greek God looks, title, and bland good manners didn’t interest her. She liked her angels fallen. For the first time in her life, she wanted something enough to fight for it.
So few things were within her control, but in this one matter, she had the power to bend circumstances to her will. She wanted to dance with Dylan Blake tonight. Perhaps she’d even sneak away with him for that promised kiss. And she wasn’t going to let Lord Sherbourne or even her father stand in her way.
She made her way through the crowd to stand by their side. “Hello,” she said breathlessly, breaking every rule of etiquette she could think of.
A lady should never approach a gentleman. She should never initiate a conversation. And never, under any condition, should she scheme to find herself alone with one so he could kiss her.
Sherbourne raised a disapproving brow at her unladylike behavior, but the captain continued to ignore her. It was unnerving—she’d grown accustomed to being the center of his attention. He stared at the hem of her gown, a muscle ticking in his lean jaw, as he obviously tried to pretend she didn’t exist.
“Lady Natalia,” Sherbourne said, recovering from his shock. “I was just telling my brother what a delightful dinner companion you were.”
At that, the captain laughed, the sound tinged with a touch of bitterness. He still didn’t look at her. “Oh, indeed.”
Sherbourne scowled at his brother, then returned his gaze to Natalia. “Will you do me the honor of the first waltz, Lady Natalia?”
She shook her head, enjoying the moment. Sherbourne was a nice enough fellow, but he needed to be taken down a peg or two. “I’m sorry, Lord Sherbourne. I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”
