15
Lucy was the means to acquire Marsden. She was his revenge against Waterstone. A way to thwart Dufton, because he certainly wasn’t going to let that prick have all the iron ore in the Cleveland Hills.Andshe was the object of Harry’s admittedly somewhat depraved, highly erotic sexual fantasies.
But she was alsohis wife.
Lucy was already far more to Harry than he’d bargained for. He wasn’t quite sure what, exactly, but that could be decided later. Watching her cower before Waterstone, trying to make herself small. Invisible. The actions so familiar they tore at his heart, wasinsufferable. How often had he seen that same look on his mother’s face? Shrinking into a ball to avoid notice while James Estwood railed and threw bits of metal at her.
The only difference between the two men was that Waterstone preferred to hit his target with words, not a bloody horseshoe.
Rage seeped into Harry, controlled but there. Just seeing Lucy like this, frightened and small, made him hurt. Hisinclination was to punch Waterstone, but Harry feared if he started hitting, he might never stop. After all, he hadn’t before.
Harry’s thumb rubbed absently over the missing tip of his finger.
Bartle stood just outside the dining room door, along with the two lads from the stables. Harry had warned the older man earlier that dinner might be interrupted, so Bartle was prepared. But he wouldn’t interfere unless Harry signaled.
“Now, Lucy.” Waterstone snapped his fingers again. “I grow weary of this nonsense. Do you know what it will cost me to secure an annulment? Because of what you’ve done? Youungratefulchit.”
If he snaps his fingers once more, I’ll break his wrist.
Harry turned his attention from Waterstone to watch Lucy. No matter that Waterstone was a terrible human being and the treatment of his daughter reprehensible—he wasstillLucy’s father. And her entire life had been spent in obedience to him. Pleasing Waterstone. Doing whatever he demanded.
Just as she’d likely done the night of the ball during Granby’s house party.
Blinded again because I didn’t wish to see it.
Well, he saw it now. Lucy loved her father. And there was no end to the things one would accept or endure when love was involved. Harry was horribly, intimately aware of that particular truth.
Say something, Lucy.Strike back.Where is the woman who demanded I wed her?
But she didn’t look up, only continued to stare at her slice of cake.
“You see?” Waterstone nodded at Lucy. “I don’t know how you managed to force her here, but this farce is at an end. I’ll have you brought before a court of law for taking advantage of her.”
“You can try,” Harry said. “Also, I should like to point out that Lucy isn’t a child. She is of age and capable of making her own decisions.”
Waterstone ignored him. “We’ll get this sorted out, daughter. I won’t allow you to stay wed to him a moment longer. I’m sure Dufton will understand your lapse in judgement. Now, let us take our leave and put this unpleasant memory behind us.”
“No,” Lucy whispered, so low Harry barely heard her. Waterstone certainly didn’t.
“I believe I won’t sell you Pendergast after all, Estwood. At least for the price you’ve offered. I’ve dozens of interested buyers. Or perhaps I’ll just burn the place down.” He made an impatient sound and yanked Lucy to her feet.
Harry’s hands curled into fists. He stood and went around the other side of the table. “Do you think I didn’t know it was you who drove down the shares of Cottingham Imports so I’d be forced to sell? Oh, let’s not forget Hammersmith. Brilliant to flood the property and make it appear to be nothing more than a bloody swamp. Clever.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve never been a particularly good person, Waterstone,” Harry said, watching his wife’s hands tremble, refusing to look at any of them. Where was thatfuriousLucy? He wanted desperately to give her the benefit of the doubt, but the less she resisted, the higher the likelihood that this would end the same as that stupid ball at The Barrow. “But attempting to sell your daughter to Dufton, a man known for his questionable character, especially in regard to women, all in order to pay offyourdebts”—Harry shook his head—“is terrible even for you.”
“Thop.”Lucy’s entire form shook, the lisp loud and forceful. “Thopit.” She wrenched her wrist from Waterstone’s fingers, slapping at her father when he attempted to take hold of her arm again. “N—no.” Lucy resembled more a trapped animal thananything else just then, her lovely features pinched and pale, her lisp so thick one could barely understand her.
“Lucy,” Harry said softly. Relief filled him that she was not about to change course and obey her father. Until this moment, he hadn’t been sure. “Breathe,” he murmured.
“Do you see how he mocks you?” Mrs. Waterstone sneered.
Lucy’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment before bright blue flashed at her father. Her spine straightened. “Dufton will have to find another bride,” she said clearly.
Waterstone blinked. His mouth popped open. He stared at his daughter as if seeing her for the first time, horror and surprise mixing together, mustache twitching in agitation. “Lucy. Go outside and get in the carriage.Now. I won’t tolerate your disobedience another moment. This little tantrum…” He paused as Mrs. Waterstone placed a hand on his arm. When he continued, his tone became more cajoling. “Lucy, my dear, you don’t understand. You?—”
“I understandperfectly well, Father.” The lisp was so slight, Harry could barely hear it. “There is only one way to have Marsden.”
