Katie closed her eyes and set her jaw. No. She would not spend her entire marriage worried about whether Carlisle was gambling when he wasn’t with her. She trusted him.
She had no other choice.
Chapter Eighteen
Henry observed thatit was a good thing Shrewsbury had already won everything of value he owned, as the marquess was certainly a tough negotiator.
If Shrewsbury could have taken more than the vineyard in France, he would have done so gleefully. As it was, Henry had been listening to the marquess’s tirade for a half-hour about how the seventh Duke of Carlisle, Henry’s grandfather, had been a thief and a scoundrel. Then he started in on the eighth duke.
Henry raised a hand. “My lord. That is enough.”
The marquess went on, ignoring Henry.
Henry cleared his throat and slammed his hand, open palmed, on Burns’s desk, at which point both Shrewsbury and Burns jumped. “Enough. I won’t have you disparage my late father.”
Shrewsbury snorted. “I’d expect you to stand up for him. After all, you’ve benefited from his theft for years.”
“Kindly refrain from calling my father a thief.”
“What should I call him? The duke knew the land wasn’t rightfully his. I sent him letter after letter, which he ignored.”
“Perhaps he didn’t receive them.”
Shrewsbury’s upper lip curled in disgust. “He received them. I confronted him about it once, and he told me the land was legally his and he would fight tooth and nail to be certain it was passed down to you.”
Henry blinked, struck momentarily speechless.
“He knew my case would have no sway in English courts. He had dozens of powerful friends who would support him if I took him on. And that’s when I decided if I couldn’t ruin him then, I’d make it my mission to ruin what he loved best. You.”
Henry could only stare. Shrewsbury had it all wrong. It wasn’t Henry the duke had loved best but the dukedom and his legacy. He hadn’t cared at all for Henry.
Had he?
Henry supposed he would never know, but even the possibility that his father had loved him had his head spinning. Shrewsbury was still talking, but Henry heard nothing but a buzzing in his ears. Finally, Shrewsbury’s words penetrated.
“—never met a more despicable rogue—”
Henry stood. “One more word against my father, and I’ll shove my fist so far back in your face, you’ll never see your nose again.”
Shrewsbury closed his mouth. Henry, not one for violence, was surprised to find he meant every word. He sat again.
“You’ve taken up quite enough of my time, my lord. Time I should be spending with my new bride.”
Shrewsbury’s nostrils flared at this.
“Our transaction should be quite simple. You want the vineyard. I want your daughter. I assume while you have been going on, Mr. Burns has drawn up an agreement saying as much.”
“Yes, Yer Grace.” Burns slid the papers across his desk. “I have. The document affirms that ye are freely handing over the title and ownership of the vineyard in France. His lordship is agreeing to the marriage of Lady Katherine and yerself.”
Henry refrained from pointing out that Katie didn’t need her father’s agreement. The fact was that having Shrewsbury’s blessing would make everything for the two of them easier.Without it, Shrewsbury could plague them with lawsuits and demands and false accusations.
“Very good,” Henry said after perusing the documents. He took the quill Burns offered and signed with a flourish. Burns offered a second quill to the marquess.
Shrewsbury stared at the document for a long, long time. Henry gripped the arms of his chair in an effort to stop himself from grabbing Shrewsbury’s hand and forcing him to sign. Katie washis, damn it. Shrewsbury wouldnottake her away.
Finally, Shrewsbury lowered the quill and signed. The heavy weight, what Henry realized now was fear, lifted from his shoulders. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
Shrewsbury stood and held out his hand for the documents concerning the vineyard. Burns handed them over. Shrewsbury turned to go but cast one last look over his shoulder at Henry. “Enjoy her, Your Grace. She was never anything but trouble to me.”
