Page 26 of A Proposal to Wed (The Beautiful Barringtons #9)

L ucy was the means to acquire Marsden. She was his revenge against Waterstone. A way to thwart Dufton, because he certainly wasn’t going to let that prick have all the iron ore in the Cleveland Hills. And she was the object of Harry’s admittedly somewhat depraved, highly erotic sexual fantasies.

But she was also his wife .

Lucy was already far more to Harry than he’d bargained for.

He wasn’t quite sure what, exactly, but that could be decided later.

Watching her cower before Waterstone, trying to make herself small.

Invisible. The actions so familiar they tore at his heart, was insufferable .

How often had he seen that same look on his mother’s face?

Shrinking into a ball to avoid notice while James Estwood railed and threw bits of metal at her.

The only difference between the two men was that Waterstone preferred to hit his target with words, not a bloody horseshoe.

Rage seeped into Harry, controlled but there. Just seeing Lucy like this, frightened and small, made him hurt. His inclination was to punch Waterstone, but Harry feared if he started hitting, he might never stop. After all, he hadn’t before.

Harry’s thumb rubbed absently over the missing tip of his finger.

Bartle stood just outside the dining room door, along with the two lads from the stables. Harry had warned the older man earlier that dinner might be interrupted, so Bartle was prepared. But he wouldn’t interfere unless Harry signaled.

“ Now , Lucy.” Waterstone snapped his fingers again. “I grow weary of this nonsense. Do you know what it will cost me to secure an annulment? Because of what you’ve done? You ungrateful chit.”

If he snaps his fingers once more, I’ll break his wrist.

Harry turned his attention from Waterstone to watch Lucy. No matter that Waterstone was a terrible human being and the treatment of his daughter reprehensible—he was still Lucy’s father. And her entire life had been spent in obedience to him. Pleasing Waterstone. Doing whatever he demanded.

Just as she’d likely done the night of the ball during Granby’s house party.

Blinded again because I didn’t wish to see it.

Well, he saw it now. Lucy loved her father. And there was no end to the things one would accept or endure when love was involved. Harry was horribly, intimately aware of that particular truth.

Say something, Lucy . Strike back . Where is the woman who demanded I wed her?

But she didn’t look up, only continued to stare at her slice of cake.

“You see?” Waterstone nodded at Lucy. “I don’t know how you managed to force her here, but this farce is at an end. I’ll have you brought before a court of law for taking advantage of her.”

“You can try,” Harry said. “Also, I should like to point out that Lucy isn’t a child. She is of age and capable of making her own decisions.”

Waterstone ignored him. “We’ll get this sorted out, daughter. I won’t allow you to stay wed to him a moment longer. I’m sure Dufton will understand your lapse in judgement. Now, let us take our leave and put this unpleasant memory behind us.”

“No,” Lucy whispered, so low Harry barely heard her. Waterstone certainly didn’t.

“I believe I won’t sell you Pendergast after all, Estwood. At least for the price you’ve offered. I’ve dozens of interested buyers. Or perhaps I’ll just burn the place down.” He made an impatient sound and yanked Lucy to her feet.

Harry’s hands curled into fists. He stood and went around the other side of the table.

“Do you think I didn’t know it was you who drove down the shares of Cottingham Imports so I’d be forced to sell?

Oh, let’s not forget Hammersmith. Brilliant to flood the property and make it appear to be nothing more than a bloody swamp. Clever.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve never been a particularly good person, Waterstone,” Harry said, watching his wife’s hands tremble, refusing to look at any of them.

Where was that furious Lucy? He wanted desperately to give her the benefit of the doubt, but the less she resisted, the higher the likelihood that this would end the same as that stupid ball at The Barrow.

“But attempting to sell your daughter to Dufton, a man known for his questionable character, especially in regard to women, all in order to pay off your debts”—Harry shook his head—“is terrible even for you.”

“ Thop.” Lucy’s entire form shook, the lisp loud and forceful.

“ Thop it.” She wrenched her wrist from Waterstone’s fingers, slapping at her father when he attempted to take hold of her arm again.

“N—no.” Lucy resembled more a trapped animal than anything else just then, her lovely features pinched and pale, her lisp so thick one could barely understand her.

“Lucy,” Harry said softly. Relief filled him that she was not about to change course and obey her father. Until this moment, he hadn’t been sure. “Breathe,” he murmured.

“Do you see how he mocks you?” Mrs. Waterstone sneered.

Lucy’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment before bright blue flashed at her father. Her spine straightened. “Dufton will have to find another bride,” she said clearly.

Waterstone blinked. His mouth popped open.

He stared at his daughter as if seeing her for the first time, horror and surprise mixing together, mustache twitching in agitation.

“Lucy. Go outside and get in the carriage. Now . I won’t tolerate your disobedience another moment.

This little tantrum…” He paused as Mrs. Waterstone placed a hand on his arm.

When he continued, his tone became more cajoling.

“Lucy, my dear, you don’t understand. You?—”

“I understand perfectly well, Father.” The lisp was so slight, Harry could barely hear it. “There is only one way to have Marsden.”

“How did you find out—” Waterstone took a step back, shaking his head. “No. Absolutely not. I forbid it. We’ll seek an annulment in the morning before things go any further. You are marrying Lord Dufton.” His words took on a fearful edge. “You must wed Lord Dufton.”

Lucy was taking small gulps of air. Her entire form trembled. But she did not move. Nor did she back down. “No.”

Harry went to the large sideboard on the other side of the dining room.

He poured a glass of scotch, not bothering to offer refreshment to his two unwelcome guests.

Waterstone wouldn’t be staying much longer, at any rate.

He picked up the packet he’d placed on the sideboard earlier, next to the decanter, in anticipation of Waterstone’s visit.

Tossing it on the table, he said, “Open it.”

Lucy’s father picked up the packet and withdrew the small stack of documents inside. His brows lifted to his hairline. “What is this?”

“Your substantial debts. I think that’s obvious.” Harry took a sip of the scotch. “Oh, not everything. Good lord, there’s quite a bit, and I wasn’t inclined to chase them all down, just the larger ones, including your markers at Elysium. Your membership has been revoked, by the way.”

Waterstone placed a hand against his forehead. “No.”

“Hazard really isn’t your game. Nor faro, as it happens.

Your modiste bills”—he clucked his tongue at Waterstone’s wife—“are outrageous. The fountain imported from Rome, which I assume sits in your garden? The diamond and sapphire necklace you ordered last week. Seems like you were expecting a windfall.”

Mrs. Waterstone made a small cry, fist smashed against her lips, as she glanced at her husband.

“Oops. Guessing you didn’t know about the necklace, Waterstone.” He gave the man’s wife an apologetic look. “I spoiled the surprise.”

“I’m not going to listen to another second of this tripe.” The papers were tossed on the table, landing on the lemon cake. “Do you see, daughter?” Waterstone railed. “How he threatens me? This is who you want as a husband?”

“I haven’t issued any threats. Yet. And I believe Lucy’s choice of husband has been made clear.” Harry held out his hand to her, gratified when Lucy walked around the table to come to his side. She slipped her hand into his.

Harry squeezed her fingers.

Waterstone looked as if he might faint. If he did, Harry had no intention of catching him.

“I’ll give you a fair price for the ironworks, Waterstone,” Harry said.

“More than what you deserve after running it into the ground. I’m aware of the contracts you planned to default on and the way you padded the ledgers.

Fraud, I believe my solicitor called it.

I didn’t realize you and Mr. Colm had become so close.

I know you think yourself exceptionally clever.

” Harry’s words dripped with the distaste he had for the man.

“Dangling Marsden before me, knowing you could never sell it. I’m sure you spent many nights laughing over my attempts to purchase it.

What splendid amusement. Toying with a mongrel .

But as brilliant as you are,” he said sarcastically, “I would have thought you might have asked Dufton why he wanted Marsden.”

“For the same reasons you do. River access. And he hates you. He won’t sit idly and allow this situation to stand. My daughter is his betrothed. And every gentleman worth his salt loathes your presence.”

Harry grabbed his chest as if wounded. “A cut direct. In my own home.”

“Much like the one you received at The Barrow. Foxwood and I laughed ourselves silly over that.”

“Iron ore.” Harry said without preamble. “One of the largest, if not the biggest, deposit in all of England sits at the tip of Marsden. I’ll allow you a moment to come to terms with the implication.” He swallowed a mouthful of scotch and waited.

A choking sound came from Waterstone. “Impossible. Dufton?—”