Page 78 of Truly, Madly, Daring

“But why is it fair if Wrexham gets everything? I ought to have it. Pa says I ought to have it. I’m just as good as he is,” Cecil said, crossing his arms and pouting like a child of six, not a man full grown.

“And would you want it? Is that what you want? The running of that big house and dealing with all the tenants. Think of all the work that would go with it. Should you like that, and to live here, in Cawston?”

Cecil opened and closed his mouth. “Not really,” he said frankly. “Only it ought to be mine. Pa says so.”

“I see. And what about what you want, Cecil?”

“Oh.” Cecil looked at the doctor as though he’d grown a second head. “What I want?”

“Yes.”

“Nobody ever asked me that before,” Cecil replied, looking a bit stunned.

“Well, why don’t we go somewhere quiet and talk about it?” Dr Boniface suggested. “Perhaps that will help you decide what to do next.”

Cecil considered this for a moment before giving a decisive nod. “I should like that.”

Emmeline caught the doctor’s eye and smiled, before hurrying after the duke.

“Duke,” she called out, marching up to the man.

The duke glared at her with utter contempt. “Ah. The little ladybird that ran off with my son, I collect.”

Emmeline’s colour rose at the insult and the desire to slap the duke’s face might have overwhelmed her, if not for the fact it would have meant touching him. His florid face sheened with sweat in the over-warm atmosphere of the taproom.

“I am Lady Wrexham,” Emmeline returned icily. “And you might like to remember, I am my father’s daughter. Come within ten miles of myself or my husband again, and I shall make you sorry.”

“I’m all a-tremble,” the man replied, lip curling.

“So I see. You look on the verge of an apoplexy to me. You’ve turned the most shocking colour. It cannot be healthy.”

The duke’s eyes glittered with malice, but Emmeline pressed on, for this man was not only a threat to Wrexham, but to all those who depended on him.

“Delia, Aunt Lucy, and Genevieve are Wrexham’s responsibility now. I insist you leave them alone.”

He snorted and shook his head. “Oh, no. Delia is my daughter, and I shall do as I please with her, as I will with Genevieve when I get my hands on the treacherous bitch. They at least ought to give me something in return for all the coin I’ve spent on them.”

Emmeline started, shocked to hear him speak of his granddaughter so, even though she knew what manner of man he was.

“I’ll drag you through every scandal sheet in society before I let you anywhere near them. Everyone will know of the things you’ve done, and all about your financial affairs. I’ll get the details from my father,” Emmeline said, her temper rising.

The duke sneered. “You don’t frighten me, girl.”

“Then you’re a bigger fool than I credited you for,” Wrexham said, and Emmeline relaxed a degree as her husband’s large hand settled on the small of her back. “Lady Wrexham is a force to be reckoned with. She figured you out at once, and I still did not believe what she told me. No, I needed a doctor to tell me what she knew instinctively. There is no madness in our bloodline. That was just a convenient story you used to break me, or to try to. There is blindness, yes, but blindness is not a death sentence, and it does not diminish the other faculties, but heightens them.”

Emmeline sought Wrexham’s hand and curled her fingers about his, holding on tight.

“You wanted to send me mad, or at least to allow the world to believe me so. You were even prepared to allow me to break my damned neck, accidentally, of course. But you would have killed your own son, your heir, and all for what? For money? Why did you not ask me? Do you think it would have pleased me for the world to know my father was bankrupt? I would have helped, you miserable old sod. Not that you deserved it.”

“Helped?” the duke growled in fury. “Helped? Your own father! How dare you? You think I would come cap in hand for a handout from you? That money is mine by right. I’m your sire. I am the duke!”

Wrexham stiffened and then let out a breath, shaking his head. “I don’t give a damn about your blasted title. You’ve been no father to me, and that money is nothing to do with you. I inherited an estate barely making ends meet, and I turned it around. I invested every penny I could scrape together to invest in Mr Knight’s railway company and the brilliant bastard turned it into gold. You had nothing to do with it, and I owe you nothing. Nonetheless, if you are in dire straits, I will give you an allowance to keep you from disgrace, providing I never hear from or see you ever again.”

Emmeline could see the satisfaction Wrexham took in making the man such an offer, though it was a generous one in truth, for the duke was a spendthrift and too readily enjoyed the finer things in life.

Still, the duke was shaking with fury, clearly caught between the desire to tell his son to go to hell before everyone watching, and the knowledge that he was facing financial ruin.

“We shall discuss this in private,” the duke said, the words clipped and angry.