“Harriet Westington. A bigger strumpet never lived. He nearly ruined himself over her. She’s entirely corrupted, and that is no doubt because of her profession.”
Lucy fidgeted. “You can’t throw them all into one pot, Henry. Not all actresses are like her.”
“I daresay the majority are. Thanks to her, I have no great love for that breed of people. They’re a lying, cheating lot.”
Lucy swallowed. “What happened?”
“One night, on the way back from the village, he fell off his horse and broke his neck. He was too drunk to stay on top of it.”
“And then you became duke.” Lucy’s heart ached for the boy he must’ve once been.
“Shortly before he died, he’d sold a small portion of our land that wasn’t entailed to maintain that woman. To Tilbury.”
“Lady Louisa’s father.”
“Yes. In practical terms, it’s a negligible chunk of land. But it includes a part of the forest where, as a child, I liked to play—with David.”
“Of course you’d want it back,” Lucy said softly.
“Not only because of that. It should have gone to Arabella. It’s my duty to fix my father’s mistakes.”
“By marrying Lady Louisa.” Lucy guessed that Tilbury must be offering the land as part of her dowry.
He was silent. He didn’t have to say aloud that that had been the original plan. Until Lucy came along and turned everything upside-down.
She swallowed. “That’s why you are cross with me. You’d rather marry Louisa because of the land.”
“We’ve discussed this. The fact is neither of us have a choice. You and I have to get married.”
“You always say this, and it’s infuriating.”
“It would solve your problem. You’d have a home and wouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life at the Seminary leading a lowly life as a teacher.”
“You offer marriage without love. I find that even more lowly.”
“Love?” He laughed harshly. “My father believed in love. Look where that led him. To near ruination. He nearly dragged the rest of us down with him. I’ve spent my entire life rebuilding what my father nearly ruined. I won’t make the same mistake.”
Lucy shivered. She pulled her hand away. “What about Lady Louisa and the land?”
“I’ll get it back another way.” He sounded hard.
She shook her head. “You’ll blame me for the rest of your life. I don’t want to be responsible for you not getting it because of me.”
“No need to worry. I usually get what I want.”
“You are so—so—” Lucy spluttered.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Arrogant.”
“Very well, Lucy. If it makes you feel better. We will not announce the engagement tomorrow at the ball. We’ll take it slowly and wait until the guests have left.”
“Do I have any choice in the matter?”
“No.”
Lucy huffed and returned to the window. Before she climbed back, she saw him gazing at the sky, tall, pensive and utterly lonely.
