Page 71 of The Duke Who Claimed Her

“Nothing,” he cut her off. “I am not stealing a thing. The Duke is signing them over! Not everything, of course. I do not mean for you and His Grace to become beggars. Rather, it is a considerable fraction of your wealth. Again, it is what I am owed.”

Arabella found herself shaking her head. “That is… Caspian will never do that.”

“Of course he will,” he said. “As I told you, I have had my lawyers draw up the papers. It is perfectly legal. As well as binding,” he emphasized.

“But Caspian… Whatever you think you can make him do, you cannot control him.”

“And that is where you are wrong. I know that simply asking him to sign these papers would not convince him. And to ask you to talk him into it…” He shook his head. “Despite everything, you have changed a little, Arabella. Enough, anyhow, to convince yourself that you can refuse me. Thus, I have determined that an insurance policy of my own is needed.”

Her blood turned cold, and the fear that she had worked so hard to push down started to surge.

“You are that insurance policy. That is why you are here.” He looked at her with venom. “As we speak, men whom I have chosen for their… Let us call it their persuasion skills. They are on their way to the Duke’s residence right now, where they will tell him of the situation as it currently stands. As they will tell him that if he refuses to sign the papers, your life will be forfeit.”

“No!” she gasped.

“Yes,” he growled. “I was surprised to see how close you and His Grace have become, but as I was surprised, I was just as delighted. And if not him, that boy you two share… Timothy, is it? I am sure that my associates will happily use his safety to help convince the Duke, should he not care for you as I need him to do.”

Arabella trembled with fear, rage, and a stark desire to attack her father as if that would make any difference!

She glared at her father as if she might attack, but he just laughed. Though he was not a physically imposing man, he was taller and stronger than her, and years of being beaten down and made to feel like nothing had such an impact that Arabella could not even imagine attacking him.

He scoffed with derision to see her shrink back.

“Speaking of which… I did not come here to make deals or to gloat. I merely wanted you to know what is happening, so you realize there is nothing you can do to stop it. I warned you, Arabella, and you did not listen. This is your fault.”

With those words spoken, her father turned and left the room. As the door locked behind him, Arabella sank to the floor, a pathetic mess, returning once more to the girl she had always been—denied for so long, but now proven resolute.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Caspian strode into his manor expecting to be greeted by Mrs. Roberston, and if not her, by a member of the staff. Even Timothy, surely wondering where he and Arabella had gotten themselves to, might have met him in the foyer.

So, when Caspian entered the manor and found it empty, it gave him a reason to pause and panic.

He stopped dead and listened. The manor sat in a state of perfect silence, the kind that brought with it a sense of dread because in a home of this size with a dozen staff constantly moving throughout, to find perfect silence was to find that something terrible had happened.

“Mrs. Robertson!” he called out, and his voice echoed across the foyer. “Mrs. Robertson!”

“In here, Your Grace!” her voice cried from the dining room.

If Caspian were not so panicked, he might have taken a moment to consider why Mrs. Roberston was calling to him, rather than rushing to find him. But he was awash with fear for Arabella’s safety, he was filled with energy that made his body shake, and when he heard her call, he simply turned and strode to where she had called from.

A second later saw him walk into the dining room.

The moment that Caspian did so, he stopped dead, his stomach dropped, and he began to understand just how serious the situation was. Not only for Arabella, but for himself, and all those whom he cared for.

The entirety of the household staff was crammed into the dining room. Some sat around the table, while most stood awkwardly in small clumps. He saw Mrs. Roberston amongst them, but she was not his focus.

“Your Grace…” Stepping forward from his staff was a tall and gangly man whom Caspian did not know. He had a long nose, a skinny face, and hollow eyes. “It is so kind of you to join us.”

Caspian bared his teeth. “Who are you? Mrs. Robertson? What is going on?”

“Your Grace, I am so sorry.” Her voice cracked. “There was nothing I could do.”

“She is correct in that,” the gangly man said. “Do not blame her, for that would be to waste time. Rather, let us speak of what you might do to quicken this process and hopefully save lives while you are at it.”

“My wife! Where is—” Caspian took a single step forward but stopped dead when another man stepped beside the first. He was tall, also, but with shoulders that were wide and a neck so thick it stretched from shoulder to shoulder.

His size did not trouble Caspian in the least. Rather, it was the gun that he held in his hand that made Caspian falter.