“No,” she said, drawing herself up, “you won’t do that. And do you want to know why, my lord?”
He stopped in his tracks, looking vaguely surprised. But the haughty disdain did not leave his icy eyes. “Oh, I’m certain you’ll tell me, girl.”
Knowing it would infuriate him, she leaned insolently against his massive desk, and was rewarded with a furious flush creeping up his throat.
“Besides the fact that my sisters and I have reached our majority and you have no power over any of us any longer,” she drawled. “I could tell by your readiness to get us away from prying eyes that you would not like the truth that we are in fact alive to get out. I remember your need for a spotless reputation, you see. Which, no doubt, was why you fabricated the information to separate Iain and me all those years ago.”
For the first time in their exchange he appeared vaguelyuncertain. It did not last long, however, the cruel mocking back in place. “You are still as much a fool as you ever were. That boy was nothing but an opportunist. He was using you, girl, but you were too blinded by him to see it.”
But she refused to listen to another word he had to say. “You are wrong there, my lord. I have recently returned from a very informative trip with that very man, where the truth came out in spades.”
Pushing away from the desk, she stalked across the room toward him, the anger of all he had stolen from her and Iain and her sisters eating away at the last remnants of fear. “You lied to separate us. And then you put me in that hell on earth to further break my spirit.”
“He was a commoner,” he hissed, apparently through with any pretense of lying in the face of her fury. “You are Lady Seraphina Trew, daughter of an earl. You could not marry a penniless orphan whose only claim to lineage was an addict of a father who was looked down upon and ridiculed by even the lowest of men.”
“I am not Lady Seraphina Trew,” she said, acid filling her mouth at the name she had willingly given up. “I ceased being Lady Seraphina the moment I married that boy you despised so much.”
He rolled his eyes heavenward. “Are you simple, girl? Do you truly believe that pathetic excuse for a marriage, without banns read, without a priest, was legal?”
“Now who is the fool?” she spat. “We were in Scotland. I assure you, our marriage was legal. No, that day I ceased being your daughter, and became Mrs. Iain MacInnes, all quite legal and binding.”
She smiled, a slow thing, more a baring of teeth. To her immense pleasure, he appeared faintly alarmed.
“And when Iain learned he was the Duke of Balgair, I became a duchess.”
She wasn’t certain what his reaction would be to that piece of news. God knew it had taken her more than her fair share of time to come to terms with it—not that she had truly come to terms with it, even after all these long days of travel, when it had been all she’d thought about.
Yet after an initial incomprehensible staring, when he started laughing, long and loud and gratingly mocking, she felt a certain satisfaction for what was to come. If anything good could come out of this heartbreak with Iain, it was knowing that her father would soon learn he had let a dukedom slip through his fingers.
His laughter finally fading away, he gave her a mocking glance. “A duke, eh? You truly are as stupid as I always thought you were. How could that boy become a duke? Do you think dukedoms form on trees like fruit, ready to be picked by any man who wishes it?”
“I assure you, he is indeed the Duke of Balgair,” she replied quietly. “His father, while an addict, was also the youngest son of the previous duke. And when all of the males in the line tragically died, they went searching for Iain.” She smiled coldly. “You may look into it if you like. Though you’ll find all I’ve told you is true.”
The scorn on his face transformed to confusion as he peered at her. “That cannot be possible,” he rasped. “I’d heard of the tragedy surrounding that title, of course. And that they’d found an heir. But it cannot possibly be that boy who used to shovel shit in my stables.”
“I assure you, that is precisely who it is.”
He blinked as understanding finally took hold. “And you are a duchess.”
Pain lanced in her breast. “I am. Or, rather,” she continued, raising her chin, “for the time being. The reason I was with Iain, you see, was to secure a divorce.”
“A divorce,” he hissed.
“Yes. A divorce.”
“You fool,” he snarled. “You have such a prize dropped right into your lap, and you would turn your nose up at it?”
“But that was never a prize I wanted.”No, all I ever wanted was Iain’s love, even when he was just a poor orphan with only dreams to live off of.
His eyes blazed, and she rather thought he would have gladly struck her down. She had never seen such hate in his eyes, not even when he’d sent her to the asylum. Instead of shrinking back, however, she stepped closer. It was only then she realized they now stood eye to eye. She no longer had to look up at him. That fact gave her a small thrill.
He seemed to see it as well, for his eyes flared wide in shock as he took her in. “You are unnatural,” he spat.
“I shall take that moniker, and gladly, if it means I am nothing like you.”
He stared at her in outraged confusion, and she smiled. “But telling you about all you lost in driving us away—not only the comfort and care of three daughters who would have been loving companions into your old age, but the status you so desired as father of a duchess—was not why I came here today. No, I came to tell you that my sisters and I now hold much more power than you do over us. And we shall use that power should the need arise.”
He scoffed. “You have no power over me, girl. No, even if I should allow you to leave here today, you can be certain I shall find you again. And then you shall rue the day you crossed me. As shall your sisters.”
