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Chapter Forty

T he day might be bright, but the atmosphere in Grisham townhouse was dark. It was the day—or hours—after the incident, and the air in the parlor was thick with tension.

Even earlier that morning, when the sun was not quite up, Simon had helped Dominic take Linpool to the authorities. Dominic heaved a sigh of relief after he left behind the man who was partially to blame for the destruction of his family.

Partially. Yes, partially. His mother had so much to answer for, but she was long gone.

“How was it?” Marianne asked as she sat in an armchair.

Both looked weary and tired, but they were prepared for the next thing—talking to her father. How much did he know by now?

“I am fine,” Dominic replied stoically. He tried to soften it by placing a hand on her arm. He stood at her back, like a sentinel. “Finally, I am rid of Linpool.”

Marianne glanced up at him and saw a grin forming on his face. Yes, finally. She took a deep breath. There was still one hurdle to overcome, and he was someone who would be a part of her life no matter what.

She heard footsteps echoing down the grand staircase. Each step was deliberate and punctuated by the thud of a cane. Nobody else walked that way. All her childhood, she had dreaded those footsteps.

Lord Grisham finally reached the end of the staircase. His cane followed a trail toward the parlor. He looked mildly curious as he spotted his eldest daughter and his son-in-law waiting for him. He seemed to have doubled back, surprised at having guests early in the morning.

“This is unexpected. I did see my daughter last night. Now, my son-in-law is here to visit me,” he drawled, looking between the two intently. A sneer curved his lips. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Marianne could tell that her father was anything but pleased. However, there was a spark of interest there. Their visit was, after all, a novelty, and her husband was a duke.

“We are here to discuss your recent guest, Linpool,” Dominic began, meeting the Marquess’s gaze unflinchingly.

“Ah, him. What do you want to know about him? Lord Linpool is a charming fellow, and he is currently my second eldest daughter’s suitor,” Grisham declared, keeping his tone light.

But Marianne could tell that her father had sensed something was amiss. His expression had darkened.

She rose from her seat. “A charming fellow? Certainly, Linpool can be charming. But here’s what you need to know. Last night, he abducted me and held me at gunpoint. He even forced me to write a suicide note, with details that I don’t dare recount.”

Her cheeks still burned when she remembered how she wrote a confession to Dominic. A false one. She’d given him a little idea of what the note was about, but they had not truly dissected everything that was wrong with the incident.

“Certainly, you are exaggerating,” her father grumbled, narrowing his eyes at her. Then, to Dominic, he said, “Remember that your wife made a fuss about serving stag at my dinner party. She refused to eat meat, and even had her cat attack a guest.”

“I am not merely listening to a story my wife told me,” Dominic replied, his voice hardening.

“I was there when Linpool tried to abduct her from Oakmere Hall, with a pistol to her temple. We have him and his accomplices in custody. The authorities are already involved. This is not someone’s fever dream. It’s real.”

Grisham shook his head, still unable to believe his son-in-law’s words. “Preposterous! That can’t be true. You can’t come here to my home and tell me such lies!”

“You let a man like Linpool into your home, knowing the danger he posed. You ignored your daughter’s warnings,” Dominic growled at him.

Marianne could see the last of her husband’s patience falling apart. She remembered that he had just lost his self-control moments ago. Her senses were on high alert.

“Don’t speak to me about my daughter! Do you think I care about your opinions? I’ll not be berated by you, of all people.”

Grisham was no better. His temper had always run hot, and one thing he didn’t like was his word and authority being questioned.

“Father—” Marianne began.

“Shut your mouth, Marianne! You’ve been nothing but a burden to me. I was glad when a duke chose to marry you, but for what? Here the two of you are, making it harder for me to find husbands for your sisters. It was all for nothing!”

Without warning, Dominic punched the Marquess so hard that he staggered and fell to the floor.

“Is that what you can do? You hit an old man who is not at his full strength?” Grisham yelled, his face red from anger and embarrassment.

Dominic was unfazed by the question. His anger still boiled as he loomed over the older man.

“You chose to endanger your daughters just so you can associate with that man,” he accused in a low, rumbling voice.

Grisham clutched his jaw, more likely feeling a numbing pain there. “How dare you!” he exclaimed, trying to scramble to his feet.

His cane had fallen to his right. He tried to reach for it, but Dominic was quicker. He bent low and pressed his knee into his father-in-law’s chest, pinning him down.

“Your poor treatment and negligence of your daughters end now, Grisham,” he warned. “Let them, especially Marianne, live normal lives. They deserve better, not this cowering-from-fear sort of life.”

Marianne stepped forward, her eyes blazing and her body trembling with long-repressed anger.

“Father, you’ve treated us as pawns and constantly made us feel like burdens. You ruled the house to incite fear and not to inspire love. You brought us into this world—for what?” she asked, the pain in her voice searing through.

“Y-You don’t understand,” Grisham stammered, his defiance faltering.

His gaze darted away from her. It was the first time he did that, but it didn’t feel like a victory for Marianne.

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” she continued. “You care more for appearances than your own children. We are meant to solidify friendships and business partnerships, nothing more.”

Breathing hard, Dominic finally released Grisham. He stepped back and away from him.

“You’re leaving for Scotland today. That’s not a request, but an order. You will be staying with my relatives there. You will not return until you’ve reformed.”

He pulled the Marquess to his feet before turning to the door.

The older man was protesting, though Marianne no longer registered his words. There were half-formed threats there, mixed with empty promises.

Her heart ached at the thought of not seeing him again. It was surprising, since she had thought she hated and feared him, and nothing more.

“I’ll be waiting in the hallway. Don’t make me come back here,” Dominic warned, jabbing a finger at him in warning.

He then left and closed the door behind him, leaving Marianne alone with her father.

There was silence at first, and at that moment, Marianne thought she could actually hear her heart break. She stared at her father, who looked defeated for the first time. Gone was the ramrod-straight back. Instead, he slumped in his chair, looking even older than his years.

When he glanced back at her, he still looked angry, but there was something else there. Sadness? All she could see was that the venom that often accompanied his outbursts was absent.

He merely looked like an old, lonely man.

“You don’t understand, Marianne. You never did,” he muttered, sounding resigned. His eyes seemed to take on a faraway look.

“I understand perfectly,” she snapped. “You view my sisters and me as burdens. You care so little for us that you would readily marry Elizabeth off to a murderer and more. He was even worse than you’ve ever heard so far today.”

Her father muttered something under his breath. It could be a curse, or it could be an admission. Marianne did not hear, but she identified his guilt as he struggled to meet her eyes.

She leaned in, and softly but sharply said, “You have done what is easiest for you. You let him in. But then again, before he even came along, you kept my sisters in this house of horrors. Prisoners. We might not have been shackled, but we never had real choices, and we lived in fear under your cane.”

Her father looked down at his lap, his back still hunched. He looked ashamed, but he remained silent.

“I’m leaving now, Father,” Marianne declared as he turned on her heel, heading for the door. “This is the last time I’ll ever speak to you. If you ever change, it won’t be for me.”

She slammed the door shut. She knew what he looked like behind it—defeated and discouraged—but she wouldn’t go inside to comfort him. He needed to learn his lesson first.

Later that day, the sisters were at Oakmere Hall. The twins were playing with the hounds, laughing as Achilles and Beowulf chased them around.

Dominic smiled softly at the scene. It was how he had always wanted his home to be—peaceful, animated. He had been alone for so long.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elizabeth approaching. He gave her an encouraging nod, remembering how she used to be afraid of his shadow.

“I don’t know how we can ever repay you,” she said.

He shook his head reassuringly. “There is no need. You can stay here for as long as you need.”

That earned him a shy smile.

“And Elizabeth?” he added. “I should be thanking your family for everything you’ve done for me.”

He meant every word. He had been lost in a limbo created by his family. He had always been alone, except for Simon, who thankfully did not get offended by his regularly sour looks.

“It’s your family now, too,” she said and then left him there standing.

Wilhelmina followed her sister but not before nodding to him. The look of gratitude was clear. Those sparkling eyes. The easy smile, unburdened with worries.

There was one last thing to do, and it was the most important thing he ever had to do.