Had he thought Olive’s reaction upon learning the truth was the worst he had to fear? Now he had nothing to offer her at all. Although Eli would play no further role in his father’s machinations, the marquess’s thirst for vengeance would double in strength.
Eli was an enemy now, too.
“Side with the Harpers over my own father?” he repeated hollowly. “When have you ever been a father to me?”
But there was no point attempting to mend the cracks in a bond that had never been whole to begin with. Every time Eli attempted to keep pieces together, his father was there to kick them apart. Theirs was not a relationship worth protecting.
Eli would fight for the ones that were.
“I gave you every opportunity—” his father began.
Eli turned toward the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the marquess roared, his voice ricocheting off the stone walls.
“I’m disowned,” Eli reminded him over his shoulder. “I don’t have to listen to your selfish tripe anymore.”
He yanked open the door.
“If you don’t do it,” came his father’s low, insidious voice, “I’ll find a way.”
Eli turned around, every muscle vibrating with the effort to control his rage.
“If you so much as whisper their names,” he said viciously, “you will regret it. Banishment won’t stop me. I keep your legacy in here.” Eli tapped his temple. “I know how you think. I know what you value. I know your tactics and your weaknesses and your fears.” He curled his lip. “You never fathered an heir. You forged your most powerful enemy with your own hands.”
His father stared at him, shocked and speechless.
“Don’t fear me,” Eli said relentlessly. “Fear the copy of yourself you created.”
He stalked out of the chamber, pulling the door shut behind him.
No footsteps followed him.
No shouts of anger.
Energy rushed through Eli’s veins. He’d done it. He’d given his conscienceless father something to fear. The gamble had worked.
Eli hadn’t the least idea how he’d make good on such a threat, but the beautiful part was that he wouldn’t have to.
The marquess believed fully in his own omnipotence, which would extend to his ability to father an equally powerful son. The marquess would be able to think of ways a motivated, ruthless enemy might damage him, and would scramble about shoring up perceived weaknesses, only to think of some other way, and throw himself into preventing that, and so on.
Perhaps not into infinity, but for months or even longer, the marquess would live in a hell of his own making. He would not dare to harm the Harpers until he was absolutely certain he’d left no vulnerability through which his son could retaliate against him.
Eli clattered down the marble steps, out through the castle doors, and into the brisk morning air.
The sunrise was glorious, but already the exhilaration from standing up against his father had begun to fade. While the dragon chased its tail, there was a fair maiden who deserved the full truth.
In doing so, Eli risked adding Olive-less to his homeless, penniless, and prospect-less future. He was not an attractive suitor from any logical perspective. His role in his father’s deception was by far the worst of his sins.
The wheels of destruction had been put in motion even before he’d arrived on her doorstep. His stomach clenched in shame.
Olive never deserved to be deceived and manipulated.
Eli did not deserve Olive.
Soon, she would know it, too.
Chapter 14
Olive did not wake up alone.
A maid was adding fresh kindling to the fire.
Olive stretched out her arm in alarm. The emptiness of a cold blanket was both a disappointment and a relief. As much as she missed Elijah’s warmth, Olive would rather wake alone than to the startled shrieks of a housemaid.
She felt different today. A little sore perhaps, which was to be expected, but this new sensation wasn’t physical. It was more internal than that. She had taken a lover! She, who had only ever had one kiss, had spent the past nine days comporting herself with increasingly scandalous behavior, and did not regret a single moment of it.
Her mood was buoyant. With an irrepressible grin, Olive dressed in plaits and breeches, and scooped up a carrot from the kitchen on her way out to the stables to exercise the horses.
A lover!
And not just any lover... she had Elijah Weston.
Her heart fluttered at the thought of his name. And the thought of his hands. And the thought of his mouth. And the thought of his—
Was there anything she disliked about the man he’d become? He’d hurt her in the past, but that had been years ago. He’d been a child then, just like her. Now he was a full-grown burly botanist whose greatest passions were helping others and kissing her.
He’d been a perfect gentleman from the moment of his arrival, taking great care not to pressure her at any point. Nor did he become peevish when she turned down his marriage proposal... twice. He let her be in control and trusted her to make her own decisions. Her happiness came first. Olive frowned.
Was taking a lover what would make her happy?
She tightened Duke’s saddle, then moved on to Rudolph and Mr. Edward. Taking a lover was fantastic and freeing, like riding over the hills with the wind in her hair.
But wild rides and lovers were temporary. Now that she’d fallen in love with Elijah, she wasn’t ready to give him up. Olive suspected she never would be.
How she wished he had come on his own, and not at the behest of her father!
If there were some way to be certain that Elijah’s interest lay only in her, and not the attractive dowry of one of the most famous stud farms in England, then...
Then, yes. Yes, she would marry him.
But how could she be sure?
Olive tightened Charley’s saddle, then gave him a pat on the rump to go and join the others.
She couldn’t be sure, that was the thing. In the same way that the hurts of their pasts could not be undone, nor could her father’s manipulative actions. In the hopes of repairing an old rift, Papa had dangled the farm as bait. Elijah had come to claim it—and her.
And... the rift was repaired. Oh, perhaps not between Papa and the Marquess of Milbotham, but that was between those two. Olive and Elijah had more than made up.
It came down to a matter of trust.
There would never be proof. If she wanted to decide things for herself, well, here was her opportunity. Did she trust Elijah with her heart or not?
As she emerged from the stables, he was just approaching the fence.
Her heart gave a little flip.
Entrust him with it? Her heart was already his.
She ran up to lean over the fence in greeting. The horses followed, four hair-tossing bridesmaids dressed in the finest leather, hoping to catch the carrot.
He stopped her before she could kiss him.
“Olive.” His eyes were strangely serious. “We need to discuss something.”
This time, the flutter was not in her heart, but deep in the pit of her stomach, where all bad things lurked and churned.
“What is it?” Her voice was flat, but didn’t shake. Neither did her hands or legs.
He was still here, she still hadn’t agreed to marry him... How bad could it be?