Page 50 of Betting on a Duke
“She’s not going anywhere with you,” Samuel practically growled.
“He’s right,” Lady Kendall remarked. “You don’t deserve time alone with her.”
Clarice witnessed her father’s face turn deep red and the veins in his neck and forehead bulge. She could see the scene unfolding in front of her eyes if she didn’t appease her father. She could handle a little gossip, but she’d rather not have her father air their dirty secrets in a hotel full of guests with nothing to do until the first race began. She had no desire to hear anything he had to say, nor be in the same room with him, but she would do so to keep the peace and hopefully convince her father to leave.
She patted Samuel’s hand. “I’ll be right back.” She stood and spoke to Lord and Lady Kendall, “Please excuse me. I will return shortly.” Then she turned to her father. “You have ten minutes.”
She walked away without even bothering to check if he followed. She knew he was by the sound of footsteps pattering behind her. As she walked, she tried to breathe evenly to ease her racing heart and trembling body. She would not give her father the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. When they reached the library, where she had read, taken lunch, and napped earlier, she entered and sat in the same chair. Her father didn’t sit; instead, he loomed over her, hoping to intimidate her. It wouldn’t work. At least she would try not to let him succeed.
“What is it you want, Father?” She struggled to appear casual and unaffected by his presence.
He laughed. “That is a funny question. I believe I discussed with you what would happen if you insisted on seeing Stanton again.”
“Yes, well, you see, you have no say in what I do or don’t do. I am old enough to handle my own affairs. Nobody is in charge of my life or what I do with it but me. You no longer have the authority to marry me off to someone of your choosing.”
His brows furrowed, and he looked displeased. Perhaps he had finally come to terms with the situation and understood that he had no control over her. “I see. Well, you do know there are other ways to get what I want.” He placed his hand on his chin, rubbing his index finger across it. “Perhaps Staton would prefer to keep his father’s secrets hidden and walk away from you. If not, I’ll enjoy tarnishing my old friend’s reputation. Not to mention the gossip I can spread about Samuel starting the fires that killed his family to inherit the dukedom.”
She jumped up and practically growled at him like a mama lion protecting her cub—or in this case, the love of her life. Her soon-to-be husband. “Go right ahead. There are plenty of servants who witnessed Samuel going into the stables long before the fires started. He had nothing to do with it.”
More laughter from her father. A laugh that sent icy talons scratching her exposed skin and a numbing chill through her veins. She waited, breathing heavily, for him to say something—anything—tomake this craziness go away.
“It doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not. Members of thetonpay close attention to rumors. They love to believe that everything they hear is the truth. Some members take pride in spreading rumors, no matter how ridiculous they seem. As for Samuel setting the fire, it’s plausible enough. His reputation will be ruined regardless of the actual truth. And if you marry him, you and your children will be shunned by Society. Enjoy your lonely, isolated life. I hope you find Samuel worth it.” He bowed, the blackhearted man. “Until we meet again, daughter.”
He walked out without looking back. The man had no conscience or morals. He just expelled words without a care as to how they hurt or upset her or anyone else. She hurried back to the salon to warn Samuel about what was to come.
When she arrived, she found him alone in the same chair she’d left him sitting in. She plopped back down in her chair. And she meant plopped. She had no energy or desire to sit all ladylike and proper. “Where did Lord and Lady Kendall go?”
“They said they wanted to rest before dinner and hoped to see you either tonight or tomorrow. They’re in town for a while, so you’ll have plenty of time to get to know them.”
“But what if I won’t be here for long?”
He appeared shocked by her words. “And why not? Now that your father knows where you are, there’s no need to go back to London.”
“True, but he intends to follow through on his threats. He plans to spread rumors about your father and accuse you of killing your family for the title.”
Samuel reached over and linked his hand with one of hers. “If and when the rumors start, I will address them. Or ignore them. I hardly see that it matters what I say or don’t say. The damage will be done.” He exhaled. “To be honest, I don’t care what comes of your father’s threats, as long as the two of us are together.”
She thought about what he said, and he was right. If they cared about each other, what did the rest matter? “I agree with you.”
He raised his eyebrows and grinned. “You do?”
“Yes, and this is not the time for teasing.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes. You are right. On another note, I apologize for not discussing this with you, but I have requested a special license. When it’s issued, I think we should go to the local vicar and his quaint stone church and get married.”
“Samuel Radcliff, you tell me this now? In a room full of onlookers. I’m going to have to sit on my hands to keep from pulling you into a hug and kissing you into tomorrow.”
He answered her with a chuckle and a blush. Good Lord, he blushed. “I have something better. Would you accompany me to Ramsbury Ridge Farm so I can show off Zeus and Clover?”
“I would love that. But don’t you have a social engagement tonight?”
“I do. But trust me when I say I’d much rather spend tonight with you. Skipping one gathering before the 2000 Guineas Stakes isn’t going to hurt my chances.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, I have acquired membership in The Jockey Club, thanks to Baron Ramsbury. I am making connections regarding my stud farm.” He stood up and extended his hand. “The only thing left to do is to win a race or two or three!”
Clarice giggled. “Is that all?”
