Ambrose stiffened. He was a man that could take all manner of insults. He was also used to envious comments and sniping looks, but the one thing he would not—did not—tolerate was being told that he lacked the ability to take care of those in his charge.
“Surely you are not implying I cannot care for my wife?” His words were soft, a challenge.
“There is one thing you ought to know about my cousins, and that is that they are damn resourceful,” Dashwood answered.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Ambrose demanded.
Charles Middleton shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was clear both men expected him to know what Dashwood meant. He was bloody well aware the Middleton chits were crafty. And even if he hadn’t been aware of it, today would have proven it. So why were they talking to him in damn riddles?
“I see you don’t take my meaning.”
“So why don’t you enlighten me?” Ambrose snapped, losing patience.
“Your mistress.”
Thatwas what this was about?
“And how is that any of your concern?” Ambrose grit out between clenched teeth.
“Cut her loose.” Dashwood’s eyes blazed.
“Your concern is commendable but let me worry about what reality my wife can and cannot deal with.”
He had already broken it off with his mistress, but Dashwood and his pompous nose in his business could go to hell. Just because he married in haste under dubious conditions did not mean he was a complete bastard.
His eyes fell on Charles Middleton and the look on the man’s face made him sigh. Ambrose had to give his father-in-law credit, he loved his daughters. “I do possess a strong set of moral principles,” he found himself saying against his better judgment. “Having both a wife and a mistress are against them.”
“That is good to hear,” Charles Middleton said with a nod of approval, relief evident in his features.
Ambrose grunted.
Holly had believed him a beast. And he had been, but he had tried to set it right before the wedding. He had made his deception known when he’d handed her the rules. That was why she had run. It was also what her entire family thought of him, no doubt, even though he was the victim of deception here. Did any of that matter to the Middletons? Of course not. In fact, this was why he had been reluctant to marry all these years. A man did not just acquire a wife in the agreement, he acquired an entire bloody family.
More people to take into account.
More people he could not control.
Now he was more exposed than ever. Everything had gone wrong. And he was in possession of a wife that had a big question mark behind her name. What did he know of her? Except she was fiercely loyal to her family and did as she pleased.
Ambrose bit back a curse. The last thing he wanted to feel for his wife was admiration. If he felt that, who knew what other things he might come to feel, what other emotions would sneak up on him.
Damn that kiss. Something deep, dark, and ravenous had awoken inside him when their lips had met, a sensation he did not care to delve deeper into.
Ambrose was pulled from his thoughts when Charles Middleton stood, Dashwood following suit. “I believe we have said all we have come to say. I will send word once I’ve reached a decision.”
Ambrose nodded, rising from behind his desk. “I ask only that Miss Middleton remain with my wife and I until your final decision has been made.”
“Uncle,” Dashwood warned, opposed to the idea.
“Do I have your word that you will not marry her off without my consent?” Charles Middleton asked.
“You do.”
“Then she can stay in your care for the time being, if that is what she desires.”
Ambrose was no fool. That was not what Holly desired, which was why she was long gone. Charles Middleton was aware of that. The man knew as much of his daughter’s whereabouts as Ambrose did. But he’d received the permission he needed should his men find her.
Dashwood shot him a scathing glare before turning on his heel and marching out, Charles Middleton following suit at a slower pace.
