thirty-nine
Tristan wasn’t nervous to meet Winchester but not completely relaxed either.
He wanted to do his proposal right, and even though Effie had already agreed to be his wife, he would talk to her father, aware the conversation would likely end with a mutual ‘go to hell.’
He waited for him in the drawing room when she walked in, beautiful as always, in a pink gown with a tight bodice and roses embroidered along the hem. His chest became lighter.
“Papa is about to see you,” she said in a low tone. “He isn’t going to react well.”
“I’m not here to ask for his blessing. I just want to inform him of my honest intentions.”
She scrunched up her nose. “I’m not sure that is the right attitude.”
“I’m counting on his gratitude for having stopped my attack on him.” He fought the urge to kiss her.
She chuckled. “Definitely not the right attitude. Besides, you’re behaving as he did when he believed your father would be grateful for Papa’s help and leave the infamous deal to him.”
“True.”
She frowned, studying his face.
“What is it?”
“You’re pale.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “How do you feel?”
“Weak.” He lowered his gaze. “And I hate it.”
“I think you’ve never been as strong as you are now.”
He opened and closed his hands. The cuts on his knuckles had healed, and even his ribs were better; he could breathe freely. But fatigue rode him hard.
“A gust of wind could break me. I don’t feel strong at all.”
“The first step is always the hardest, but you’re doing so well.”
“The next time it happens, I fear I might break.” He brushed a curl of her hair from her cheek. “Maybe your idea of tying me down isn’t so absurd.”
“If you think it might help, we’ll try it.”
“Montcrest.” Winchester narrowed his gaze at their closeness.
Effie smiled shyly, stepping back from Tristan. “I’ll leave you alone.”
The moment she left, tension snapped between them like a suddenly tightened rope.
“What’s the reason for your visit?” Winchester sat on the armchair and vaguely gestured at him to take a seat.
“I’ll go straight to the point.”
“Of course you will.”
He placed his arms on the armrests. “I want to marry Effie.”
Winchester’s twitching eyebrow was the only sign the news had shocked him. “Marrying her won’t change the fact I won’t sell anything to you.”
He wanted to tell him he could keep that bloody piece of land and that marrying Effie wasn’t a business operation. She was more important.
“I don’t care about what you will or will not sell. My reason for marrying Effie has nothing to do with my business. I love her.” He couldn’t completely remove the frustration from his voice.
