My father glowered. “I can see the appeal, Theodore. Truly. But you do know that her mother has a criminal record and is adrug addict. Her father was a farmer.” He spat out the last word like it was filth.
Sebastian had done a lot of talking.
“You didn’t know.” He sat back smugly. “I thought not.”
Only a year ago, I would have been enraged by his smugness. By his judgment of Sarah.
Now … now I saw a pathetic man who cared about things that didn’t matter in the real world. Who derived pleasure in control and humiliation.
He was a sad piece of shit.
And I wouldn’t let him pull me into his games anymore.
“I know about Sarah’s background,” I told him calmly. “I know everything about her. Also, I’d quite like to take this moment to remind you that your ancestral estate survived off the backs of farmers for centuries.”
He rolled his eyes and waved off my comment. “Yes, but my ancestors would have had someone shot if one of their children was discovered courting a farmer’s daughter.”
Courting.
I grunted. “I wish you would join the rest of us in the twenty-first century. And I’m sure once you do, this little piece of information will delight you. I could not care less about Sarah’s mother or where she comes from. It won’t stop me from marrying her one day. If she’ll have me.”
“Then you’re an idiot, but that’s nothing new,” my father scoffed. “And you’ll grow bored, like always.”
“Like you, you mean? What’s it now, Father? Marriage number ten?”
He glowered. “Don’t you dare speak to me in such a disrespectful manner.”
Sighing, I shook my head. His study was filled with leather-bound books in reds, greens, and browns. A large window overlooked the gardens, the walls covered in rich paneling, andold worn carpets worth a fortune decorated the wooden floors. Leather chairs with metal studs. It was like something from the past. And that was the world my father lived in. Some forgotten heyday of the aristocracy, of gentlemen and privilege. Where the viscount was master of his home, his staff, and his family.
He was utterly detached from reality.
“I didn’t come here to argue with you about the appropriateness of my girlfriend. I came here to tell you why we haven’t spoken in a decade.”
My father waved his hand. “Oh, do tell. I’m sure I’ll enjoy this fictional examination of our past. It’s what you’re good at. Writing little imaginary scripts.”
I gave a huff of laughter because he really was quite the unbelievable bastard. “I don’t want anything to do with you because you cheated on and abused my mother for the entirety of your marriage and then you had an affair with my twenty-one-year-old girlfriend while Mother was dying.”
He stiffened, rage filling his expression.
“Now you can warp the facts to suit your conscience, but thosearethe facts, Father. You did betray my mum and you did betray me.”
“It was complicated,” he insisted.
“No.” I shook my head. “It wasn’t. It was disgusting and selfish. And for a while, I thought it was unforgivable.”
My father leaned forward expectantly. “And now?”
“I forgive you,” I released the words on a whoosh of air, like they’d been locked inside me for years, desperate for freedom. “But not for you,” I hurried to explain. “I forgive you for me. For Mum. I have to. I don’t wantyouractions to ruin the rest ofmyfucking life. So I forgive you. But I don’t want to have anything to do with you ever again. Don’t call. Don’t set private investigators on me, and for Pete’s sake, leave Sebastian out of it.”
“And if I don’t?” he seethed.
“Then I will file a restraining order,” I told him calmly.
His face slackened with shock. “You cannot be serious.”
“I’m very serious. I don’t want you anywhere near my life or the people I love. If you cannot abide by that, I will make sure you abide it by law.” I turned before he could say another word and pulled open the doors.
I half expected him to shout something vile after me, but there was only shocked silence.
