“St. Ives, let me be frank. I am far too fond of my daughters to be bullied into entering agreements they do not want, or no longer desire to be tied to. As such, if Willow wants an annulment—”
“She will get it when hell freezes over,” Ambrose declared, cutting Charles Middleton off. “There will be no annulment.”
Willow.
The name suited her.
“If my cousin wants—”
“Yourcousinmarriedme,” Ambrose interrupted, his tone dry as dust. He’d be damned if he annulled this marriage. They could just try to make him. “I’d say she made her choice.”
“My daughter may have felt she had no other choice in the matter.”
“But shedidhave a choice. And she chose.” Ambrose reclined back in his chair. “To annul our marriage now would ruin all three of your daughters.”
The man did not even bat an eye. “I already stated I would not be bullied. Make no mistake, St. Ives: if my daughter wishes for an annulment, she will get one, or I will take her away from you, your wrath be damned.”
The blood in his head throbbed until Ambrose thought it might implode from the pressure. Dark energy welled inside him, choking him. No one, not her father, not her cousin, not the Royal bloody Regiment, would take his wife from him.
An annulment would reinstate the absurd clause in his father’s will but Ambrose feared it was more than that. He did not understand where this sentiment came from exactly, given that he’d planned to ignore his wife after marrying her, but it was there all the same. From the moment he had stared down into her willful blue eyes in the church, her open defiance of her vows, something had sparked to life inside of him. He was keeping his wife. He was keeping Willow—and that was that.
But he said nothing to the men sitting across from him, keeping his face impassive.
“As for betrothing my daughter to Lord Jonathan, I shall consider it as I understand that wrong has been done this day. But I will speak to Holly first.”
“And where is your charming,”conniving“daughter?”
Something shifted in the man’s gaze, and all of Ambrose’s senses went on alert.He did not know.
“I want to know what the hell you did to make my cousin run away from you,” Dashwood growled, shifting focus from the topic. “If you hurt her . . .”
Ambrose shot the man a cold look. There were moments in every man’s life when his character was tested by his actions—on whether he showed restraint or acted out.
Such a moment was upon Ambrose.
He wanted nothing more than to fly over the desk and lay Dashwood to the ground. But he refrained from the urge, flexing and relaxing his fists. His restraint was why he never thought himself as a browbeating man, even if it was clear these two men thought just that.
All his life he had done what’s right—for the most part. It was a point of pride, even though his methods were crusty. His character was beyond reproach. He could control any impulse to the contrary. But he was an imperious man—of that he harbored no delusions.
But the entire situation was damned irritating.
Of course, Ambrose hadn’t expected his wife’s family to idly sit by, but dash it all to hell! They were supposed to placate him, not tear into him.Hehad been the one jilted.Theirfamily had caused the scandal.
“Careful, Dashwood,” Ambrose drawled in a tight voice. “There are limits to my tolerance. I have certainly not done anything to warrant a breach of contract.”
“But you did do something.” Fury flashed in the depth of Dashwood’s gaze.
“From where I am sitting, your cousin is the one who did something, not me.”
“Holly fled the wedding, presumably from you, and Willow married you. So for whatever bloody reason, you are in the middle of it. I just don’t know why.”
Ambrose folded his arms over his chest. “Well then, we are all at a loss. Perhaps flaunting convention has finally led to your daughter’s actions. But for whatever reason, Holly humiliated my family today. You have my offer of appeasement.”
But Dashwood wasn’t done. “My cousin may be your wife, but if you hurt her in any way, St. Ives, I will—”
“Do not threaten me, Dashwood,” Ambrose growled. “I am not a bastard. I do not harm women.”
Dashwood clenched his jaw. The man still wasn’t finished. “There are other ways to harm a woman.”
