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“What’s there to deal with?” Gabe won’t look at me. “I’m not marrying Cleo. My father can do his worst. Send me filthy nudes of yourself when I’m in the clink, won’t you? Wear your cheerleader uniform.”
I laugh, but he doesn’t. “If you think I’ll accept you rotting in prison, you don’t know me at all.”
“If I marry Cleo, it amounts to the same thing. There’s no third option, no last-minute reprieve.” Gabe swipes another glass and downs the liquid in one gulp. His shoulders tremble. “My father has the power to do what he says. This is his checkmate.”
“Not necessarily. We’re missing something – the reason this has suddenly become so urgent. I think we need to…” My thoughts trail off as I notice a shadow in the doorway. I pull Gabriel to his feet. If that’s Cleo, I’ll finish her off—
The figure steps into the room. It’s not Cleo. The duchess glides toward us with easy grace, but beneath her makeup, I see her skin is pale, drawn. “Gabriel, may I speak with you?”
Gabriel drowns another Champagne, tossing the glass over his shoulder. It smashes, spilling glittering shards across the floor. “You’ve never asked permission before, Mother.”
“I need to speak to you.” Her tone is wheedling. She wrings her hands as she glares at me. “In private.”
“Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of Mackenzie,” he says.
I expect her to protest. Instead, she grabs his arm and drags us into a darkened corner, out of earshot of Noah and Eli, and far away from the door. “You must accept your father’s match.”
Gabriel snorts.
“I’m serious.” Her voice rises as she jerks his arm. “Even though you play your games with us, I know you want what’s best for this family.”
“This family?” Gabriel scoffs. “The only people in this house who gave a shit about me were Dylan and Liam, and they’re dead. I have a new family now. I don’t need you, and I certainly don’t need a wife I despise and a cursed title.”
The duchess turns to me. “You’re an heiress. You understand the great responsibility that comes with such a birthright. You must convince him to marry the St. James girl, or we’re all ruined.”
Gabriel rolls his eyes. He’s in no state to get to the bottom of this, but that’s why I’m here. I protect him. “Why is that? What is this urgent need to have your son, whom you disowned and disinherited, married off so suddenly? Answer me this and I might consider helping you.”
“You must not breathe a word of it,” she hisses. “If the duke’s political enemies get word of his condition, they’ll crucify him.”
“His condition?”
Her mouth droops. “Bone cancer of the most aggressive sort. His body is riddled with it. They’ve given him a year to live.”
Gabriel’s body stiffens. I squeeze his arm, but he doesn’t acknowledge me. His eyes flutter shut and he checks out of his body, goes somewhere among the stars where I can’t reach him.
His father’s dying.
“The duke seemed very sprightly in the drawing-room earlier,” I can’t help but remark.
“He’s a proud man. He hides his pain well, but he’s losing weight rapidly and he hasn’t the energy for his duties. We’ve been seeking treatment in Europe, but there’s nothing else that can be done.” She turns away, her chest heaving. But I have a feeling it’s not grief for her dying husband that causes her pain.
There’s something else about Gabe’s father – that defiant look in his eyes when I held the sword to his throat. He knows he’s going to die. He almost welcomes it.
As long as he drags Gabriel down to hell with him.
I won’t give him the satisfaction. I silently vow that I will find a way to make Gabriel the greatest gift I can give – that his father will live to know Gabriel is free of him. That the duke will be forced to watch his empire crumble as his own body betrays him.
“Son, please. If you don’t accept the title, then he’ll divorce me.” Her eyes blaze. “He says that if his son won’t step up to his responsibilities, he must make another son. He’s had his sperm frozen, and he has a young viscountess on standby. I had this one last chance to convince you, and if you don’t agree then I’ll be thrown out without a penny to my name—”
Gabe tears his arm from her grasp. He staggers away, his mouth open. He has so much he wants to say, but no music in his veins to express it. Instead, he lets out a scream that curdles my soul, and takes off for the door.
“Shit.” Noah throws down his sword and starts after him. I dive in front of him and shove him back. Gabe needs me right now.
“Gabriel, come back!” the duchess cries.
She rushes after him, but Noah and Eli step in front of her, blocking her exit. I throw myself into the hallway just as Gabriel disappears around a corner. I take off after him.
“Come back, son.” The duchess’ screams echo from the stone walls. “You must do your duty.”
