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One might be fooled into thinking he wasn’t fighting the urge to beat her useless father to a bloody pulp in his very own drawing room.
She swallowed down the hurt, the betrayal. She’d come here for one reason only, really. And she would see it through. “It’s no use, Father,” she said. “I have made my decision.” She reached for Dane, touching his arm, feeling his power, calming with the knowledge that he was here and no more harm could come to her now.
Even as she spoke, she knew his driver and the servants who’d followed in another carriage were in her rooms, gathering her belongings so she might start anew with Dane.
As his wife.
“I’m marrying Dane, Father,” she said, a swell of pride making her lips curve upward, even in the face of her father’s horror.
“He’s nothing but a bastard,” her father hissed, his face red with rage. “He’s the earl’s bastard and a brute, at that.” He turned his gaze toward Dane at last. Finally acknowledging his presence, as if it mattered whether the older man acknowledged him. As if that made him any less powerful. “I’ve heard the rumors about you—”
“All true,” Dane said, moving to block Lillian from her father’s view. “And I will do anything I must to ensure your daughter’s safety.”
As you have not.
Dane didn’t say the words, but Lillian was sure she could hear them in his tone.
Her father sneered. “You bastard knave. You truly believe you can steal my daughter away from me—”
“He’s not stealing anyone,” she interrupted. “I came to him when you would not help me. When you told me this predicament I found myself in was my fault and mine to deal with alone.”
He flinched slightly. “I was angry. You must have known that I would come around. I told you I’d speak to the earl, and now I have—”
“I don’t want the earl,” she snapped, louder than she’d intended.
Her father stared as if seeing her for the first time.
Never in her life had she spoken back. Never had she gone against his wishes.
And what had she gotten in return for being such a dutiful daughter?
The thought had her straightening.
“We need to talk about this, Lillian.” Her father’s voice held an edge of desperation. She wished she were kind enough that this didn’t please her. As it was, she felt a flicker of satisfaction that he was upset while she….she had never felt more certain. For the first time in a long time she was looking forward to her future. For the first time in forever, she was in charge of her own life. Her own future. Her own happiness.
“There is nothing more to discuss.”
He turned his attention to Dane. “She’ll never get her dowry, you fool. You’ll get nothing but another man’s child to raise. Is that what you want?”
“What I want is Lillian,” Dane said.
Her heart ached at the simple words. Not spoken out of anger or jealousy, but from the heart.
He wanted her. Despite her circumstances. He wanted her, and this baby because it was a part of her.
She closed her eyes as gratitude and joy made her eyes sting with unshed tears.
Her father’s nostrils flared and he took a step toward Dane, as though he was any match for the man who would be her husband. “You have no right to intervene in our affairs—”
His diatribe was cut short by a commotion from the foyer, and loud voices echoed in the hallway beyond.
She and Dane shared a look of surprise before the doors flew open and their harried butler followed an irate viscount.
“Malcolm,” she whispered.
Dane tensed, shifting once more so she was partially behind him as Malcolm came to a halt at the sight of them.
The two half-brothers squared off in silence, each regarding the other after a decade’s separation.
