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Authors: Christi Caldwell
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to our circumstances”
She nodded, fighting back a smile. “Yes, that does sound like Olivia. I suppose considering your compliance with my father’s efforts to separate us, a lengthy meal with Olivia is the least of what you deserved.”
He dipped his head in agreement. “She is a very loyal and opinionated lady.”
They came in view of the fully-lit monstrosity of a home. The gentle teasing of their exchange dissipated under the actuality of their circumstances, and they continued their trek to Danby Castle.
“Mother and Father will never give their consent,” she said quietly into the winter stillness.
The despondent edge to her words pricked at Nathan and he grasped her hand in his, guiding her closer to the estate, up the steps, and to the front doors. “When did you become so grim?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Since my father schemed to separate us and you fell in line with his plan out of some kind of misguided honor,” she said dryly.
Nathan opened the door and Alexandra passed through. They wound their way through the kitchens, and through the castle’s endless corridors in contemplative silence.
He halted. “If I secured Danby’s blessing, surely your father cannot protest to a union between us. And with the marquess in London—”
“The marquess is not in London,” a voice boomed.
Nathan and Alexandra both started as they were brought face to face with the Marquess of Tewkesbury.
Why couldn’t she merely be entitled to a small bit of joy without the intrusion of life’s cold reality?
Funny that a short while ago she’d longed to see her father so she might lash out at him for hurting her. In that moment, however, all she wanted was for Nathan to leave. Alexandra’s mouth went dry with a panicky fear. “You weren’t not supposed to be here,” she blurted.
Father’s eyes narrowed, and he folded his arms across his chest. “Release my daughter, you scoundrel.”
Alexandra’s hand went slack, but Nathan determinedly held onto to her hand, giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze. His jaw hardened and all traces of warmth melted from him, replaced with a barely suppressed fury.
“Tsk, tsk,” Nathan said. “the Marquess of Tewkesbury dragging a private matter out in the foyer where any passing servant might happen to hear.”
A dull flush colored her father’s cheeks in a mottled demonstration of his rage. He held out a shaking finger. “You—”
“Are correct, Pembroke.”
Three pairs of startled eyes swiveled up and landed on Danby, who surveyed them from the landing of the first stairwell.
Nathan bent a low, respectable bow for the elder gentleman. “Your Grace.”
Danby inclined his head in acknowledgement and then fixed his ducal stare on her father. “I wouldn’t expect my son-in-law to have the good sense to be mindful of sharing private information in the middle of my foyer. Not even a bow, Tewkesbury? The…what did you call him? Scoundrel , before me, has far more manners than you.”
Her father dipped a hasty bow and muttered an apology that Danby pointedly ignored.
“Come, come, then. Let’s adjourn to my office.” The duke peered down the length of his hooked nose at Father. “Even you, Tewkesbury.” With that, he turned on his heel and climbed the last stairway, not needing to look back to see if the trio followed in his wake.
This time it was her father’s jaw that set so firmly, she heard his teeth grit.
Alexandra wanted to rail at her father, wanted to call him all kinds of vile insults but Nathan gave her hand another squeeze, and she took a deep breath.
“He is expecting you to be emotional and will view it as justification that you don’t know your mind to make a decision about our future. Do not give him the satisfaction,” Nathan murmured into her ear.
She nodded jerkily and with Nathan on her arm, stormed breezily by her father, and up the stairs towards Danby’s office.
The marquess called angrily after them, “Don’t think I’m
She nodded, fighting back a smile. “Yes, that does sound like Olivia. I suppose considering your compliance with my father’s efforts to separate us, a lengthy meal with Olivia is the least of what you deserved.”
He dipped his head in agreement. “She is a very loyal and opinionated lady.”
They came in view of the fully-lit monstrosity of a home. The gentle teasing of their exchange dissipated under the actuality of their circumstances, and they continued their trek to Danby Castle.
“Mother and Father will never give their consent,” she said quietly into the winter stillness.
The despondent edge to her words pricked at Nathan and he grasped her hand in his, guiding her closer to the estate, up the steps, and to the front doors. “When did you become so grim?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Since my father schemed to separate us and you fell in line with his plan out of some kind of misguided honor,” she said dryly.
Nathan opened the door and Alexandra passed through. They wound their way through the kitchens, and through the castle’s endless corridors in contemplative silence.
He halted. “If I secured Danby’s blessing, surely your father cannot protest to a union between us. And with the marquess in London—”
“The marquess is not in London,” a voice boomed.
Nathan and Alexandra both started as they were brought face to face with the Marquess of Tewkesbury.
Why couldn’t she merely be entitled to a small bit of joy without the intrusion of life’s cold reality?
Funny that a short while ago she’d longed to see her father so she might lash out at him for hurting her. In that moment, however, all she wanted was for Nathan to leave. Alexandra’s mouth went dry with a panicky fear. “You weren’t not supposed to be here,” she blurted.
Father’s eyes narrowed, and he folded his arms across his chest. “Release my daughter, you scoundrel.”
Alexandra’s hand went slack, but Nathan determinedly held onto to her hand, giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze. His jaw hardened and all traces of warmth melted from him, replaced with a barely suppressed fury.
“Tsk, tsk,” Nathan said. “the Marquess of Tewkesbury dragging a private matter out in the foyer where any passing servant might happen to hear.”
A dull flush colored her father’s cheeks in a mottled demonstration of his rage. He held out a shaking finger. “You—”
“Are correct, Pembroke.”
Three pairs of startled eyes swiveled up and landed on Danby, who surveyed them from the landing of the first stairwell.
Nathan bent a low, respectable bow for the elder gentleman. “Your Grace.”
Danby inclined his head in acknowledgement and then fixed his ducal stare on her father. “I wouldn’t expect my son-in-law to have the good sense to be mindful of sharing private information in the middle of my foyer. Not even a bow, Tewkesbury? The…what did you call him? Scoundrel , before me, has far more manners than you.”
Her father dipped a hasty bow and muttered an apology that Danby pointedly ignored.
“Come, come, then. Let’s adjourn to my office.” The duke peered down the length of his hooked nose at Father. “Even you, Tewkesbury.” With that, he turned on his heel and climbed the last stairway, not needing to look back to see if the trio followed in his wake.
This time it was her father’s jaw that set so firmly, she heard his teeth grit.
Alexandra wanted to rail at her father, wanted to call him all kinds of vile insults but Nathan gave her hand another squeeze, and she took a deep breath.
“He is expecting you to be emotional and will view it as justification that you don’t know your mind to make a decision about our future. Do not give him the satisfaction,” Nathan murmured into her ear.
She nodded jerkily and with Nathan on her arm, stormed breezily by her father, and up the stairs towards Danby’s office.
The marquess called angrily after them, “Don’t think I’m
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