“Sit,” his father ordered.
Carter jammed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and ignored the command. “I visit.”
“On the rare occasion I send for you.” His father harumphed and then flicked a glance to the newspaper lying open on his desk—open to an article about the theater. “I see you’re going ahead with the renovations at Drury Lane.”
Carter nodded. Not only was he going ahead with the renovations, but he’d be funding a good portion himself. As the new majority owner.
His father frowned and then surprised Carter by announcing, “Anthony’s wife lost another child last week.”
Oh, hell.
“Again?” Carter struggled between sympathy for his brother and frustration with his father, whose sole purpose in life was to ensure the perpetuity of the marquessate.
Tugging at his cravat, he silently cursed Martin for tying it tighter than necessary. Was the room getting smaller?
He sat, but only because it was his choice to do so.
Viscount Elmwood, Carter’s eldest brother and his father’s heir, had married a perfectly appropriate young lady over a decade earlier. Unfortunately, however, the couple remained childless—and from what Anthony had told him, it wasn’t from a lack of trying. “My deepest regrets. How is Jane?”
His father’s grimace wasn’t the answer Carter wanted. “She’s weak. Her physicians doubt she can survive another attempt.”
The cloth around Carter’s neck cinched even tighter—or seemed to, anyway. “Any news from Felix?” He swallowed hard. Major Felix Dodd was not only Carter’s favorite brother, but also his father’s spare.
Felix had been reported missing for nearly three years now, but Carter couldn’t believe his brother was dead. Up until his last deployment, Felix had seemed invincible.
But damn, his father’s spare was taking his sweet time in sending back an update.
His father made the disapproving expression Carter was accustomed to.
“Which leaves my third son.”
Carter clenched his teeth, knowing where this was going. “Indeed.”
His father stared at him with eyes that weren’t as clear as they’d once been, his irises cloudy, making the blue color appear mostly grey.
“I can’t do anything about your involvement with the heathens at Drury Lane,” he complained. “But with circumstances as they are, I insist you perform your duty to this family.”
“There’s no hurry.” Carter punched his fists down onto his thighs. “Felix will return.”
“And if he does, we’ll throw a grand celebration. But until then, it is my duty to assume the worst. I’ve selected a wife for you—a proper young lady who is also the eldest daughter of the Duke of Marbury. We’ve been invited to take dinner at the Marburys’ residence tomorrow night. You will attend and you will ask the young woman for her hand.”
“Why would I do that? I’m not inclined to marry.”
“Your inclinations do not signify.” The marquess leaned forward in a move Carter had watched hundreds of times. With his brothers. With his servants. Even with a few unsuspecting gentlemen of the ton. Carter and his brothers had once joked that it was similar to a lion just before he pounces on his prey.
“You will offer for Marbury’s chit because it is your duty, but also because you are dedicated to saving your beloved theater. Make no mistake, Son, you will provide me with an heir within the first year of your marriage.”
Only his father would demand something Carter had no control of. He would have laughed if not for the seriousness of his father’s threat. A threat that never failed to make his blood run cold.
This scenario had only been hinted at before.
“If you want your inheritance to keep Drury Lane running, you’ll fulfill the duty you have to your family first.”
His father would not trifle with Carter’s inheritance—he couldn’t! The trust had been set up by Carter’s maternal grandfather, who was long passed.
…Leaving the marquess control of minor details only.
“What have you done?” Carter demanded.
