I could be her salvation instead of her ruin.
“Leyton,” Andrew said, glancing away from the darling woman who was full of such vim and vigor. “You and I must speak alone. Now.”
“Is this about the conversation we had last night, Your Grace?”
“A continuation of it.” Andrew nodded to the door. “Your study?”
“Oh, yes.” Lord Leyton tugged at his collar, loosening it a little, sweat dripping down his forehead. “But perhaps it would be better to speak with my daughters present. This is a matter that concerns both Isobel and Joan.”
At the mention of her name, Isobel in the corner stiffened, turning her back fully to them and focusing on the canvas in front of her, even though she didn’t reach for the paintbrush at her side.
The other woman—who had to be Joan—perched on a couch close to the hearth, sitting tall and proper. Her skin was pale and there were circles beneath her eyes.
“You don’t want to talk about these matters in front of your daughters,” Andrew said, his tone firm.
Normally, he didn’t care if the family members knew what their husbands or fathers or brothers had gotten them into. A part of him enjoyed the families finally knowing the truth.
But he wanted to spare Isobel.
Though, if he threatened to sell her to a brothel, she likely already knows how bad this is. She knows what he’s done to them and she’s still sitting there like her world isn’t crumbling.
Lord Leyton shook his head. “I’ve been a terrible father to them, but they deserve to know how much I need them in this moment.”
Andrew eyed him, not falling for the apologetic father act. His own father had tried that more than once when he was alive and it only led to more trouble in the end.
“Fine, if you want your daughters to hear all the damage you have caused to their lives, then they may hear it.” Andrew barely spared Lord Leyton a glance. He focused his attention instead on Isobel as she turned around to look at him.
Her eyes narrowed and she sat up taller. Her entire body was stiff, her hands clasped in her lap so tight her knuckles were turning white. She tipped her chin at Andrew slightly, like she was daring him to act as if he knew her.
He fought the urge to step closer, to offer a steadying hand or a quiet word to ease the tension, but he resisted. Now was not the moment for indulgence.
“My daughters could help.” Lord Leyton smiled, chest puffing out as if he was pleased with himself while he clasped his hands behind his back. “They’re beautiful girls, aren’t they, Your Grace?”
Andrew paused for a moment, everything around him coming to a halt. Though he shouldn’t have been surprised at the undertone of the offering based on the brothel threat, he had encountered only one man before who offered up the women in his life on a silver platter.
It had been disgusting then and it was even worse now.
But this could be the way to help Isobel. She wants her freedom. I could give her that and she could assist in fixing my reputation.
“Coin is good, but I could pay you in something else,” Lord Leyton said, a sinister smile curving at the corners of his mouth.
“Father!” Isobel flew off the stool in front of the easel. “You cannot be serious!”
“You’ve done enough,” Lord Leyton hissed, nodding to the stool. “Sit back down, keep quiet, and let the men negotiate.”
“You mean allow you to sell me and Joan as if we’re nothing more than cattle!” Isobel put her hands on her hips, but it looked like she was shaking. “I won’t allow it.”
Lord Leyton sighed. “You can have both for the trouble this one alone is going to cause you. She is the most beautiful of the two, but her temperament leaves something to be desired. Both are untouched which must be enough to cover the cost of my debt.”
“Untouched like a prized horse perfect for breeding.” If looks could kill, Isobel would have her father on the ground, his breathing ceased immediately.
Andrew smothered a smile at her words, knowing it wasn’t time to laugh, but enjoying her fire all the same.
Lord Leyton raised his hand as if to hit her before seeming to remember himself, and return his hand to his side.
“Enough, Leyton!” Andrew despised him. How this man could threaten to sell his daughters, how he would use them as if they were nothing more than pawns in a game, it reminded him far too much of his own father.
“I need only one daughter and I will speak with her alone,” Andrew said, a plan forming.
