Dance with Deception: Scandalous Secrets, Book 1 - Exclusive Edition (Scandalous Secrets - Exclusive Edition) (17 page)

“I disagree with you.” Although Sebastian bristled at Lachlan’s hostile tone, he remained composed, determined to control their summit. “There is much we need to discuss.”

Lachlan stood and for a moment it seemed as if he were about to lunge at Sebastian. Instead, he pointed a crooked finger at him. “I will never allow my daughter to marry you. You may be a duke, but that title means nothing to me. When I look at you, I see your father. You are a little more polished than he was, you seem to possess an air of respectability, yet the same man lies beneath.”

Sebastian clenched his jaw. He wished he could challenge the man to pistols at dawn for his scathing rebuff, yet he would settle for beating him raw.

“What?” Lachlan scorned. “The great Duke of Davenport is at a loss for words?”

Sebastian grinned, predicting it would hurt Lachlan’s ego. “Why do you hate me so much, old man? Did my father make one of his conquests out of someone you loved?”

He’d spoke half-heartedly, his words meant to ridicule, yet the visible change in Lachlan’s countenance told Sebastian he struck a nerve.

For just the briefest moment, the elder man’s eyes widened, revealing a hint of vulnerability. But Lachlan rallied, fury flashing in his dark eyes as he took several steps backwards. “My daughter will never be the Duke of Davenport’s conquest.”

“No, she will be my wife.” Sebastian’s scorching gaze locked with Lachlan’s and the man’s lower lip trembled. It was slight, but evident nonetheless.

Lachlan’s cheeks drained of their color. It was the first time since Sebastian’s arrival that the man appeared ill. His vulnerability soon vanished, replaced by an expression like that of a wild animal stalking its prey. “Unlike you, your father was never a lovesick fool.”

Sebastian no longer suffered from remorse for the lie he was about to tell. Lachlan MacAlistair didn’t deserve his daughter’s devotion. Clearly, she was nothing more than a pawn in his little game of love and marriage.

“I’m neither lovesick nor a fool.” Keeping his demeanor casual yet confident, Sebastian commandeered the chaise that Lachlan had earlier vacated. He tipped his head to the side in a barb then asked, “Can the same be said for you?”

“Why you—”

Sebastian clucked his tongue. “Now, now. Don’t insult your future son-in-law. Sit and listen, old man. I’m about to tell you how our little saga will end.”

Color painted Lachlan’s cheeks a deep crimson. He stood still, defiant.

“Have it your way.” Sebastian waved a hand at the man. “Stand if you’d like; however, make no mistake, I will marry your daughter. She is, after all, carrying my child.”

The horrible falsehood flew about the room like a mighty gust of wind gaining momentum with each passing second.

Lachlan’s fisted hand sliced through the air with a loud
whoosh
. “You bastard!”

Sebastian ignored the man’s outburst. “Gwen’s betrothal to Dunlop will be called off at once.”

“What in bloody hell do you think will happen to her reputation once word leaks out that her betrothal to Keir is revoked and she is to marry you?” It was the first time Lachlan seemed concerned about his daughter’s well being. “The logical assumption will be that you compromised her.”

“I will handle the gossip,” Sebastian assured him.

“God damn it!” Gwen’s father paced the length
of the room then stopped and whirled around to face his adversary. “You forced her, didn’t you?”

Sebastian leapt from his chair with so much force it slid backward several inches. “I did no such thing! Get that straight and never again make such an absurd accusation. Think me a bastard if you must. Think me unscrupulous or unworthy, but never think me a rapist.”

He stood inches away from Lachlan, boring into the man’s eyes with his venomous glare. “I will spend the rest of my life atoning for my sins, but make no mistake, rape isn’t one of them.”

Lachlan stomped towards the fireplace then leaned against the mantle as if for support.

“When did this occur?” Lachlan asked without the courtesy of facing him.

Sebastian muttered under his breath; it was just as he had predicted. The loathsome man was calculating his daughter’s due date knowing full well that if the date of her seduction were close enough to her wedding date with Keir, Dunlop would raise the child as his. A wave of hatred unlike any Sebastian had ever known washed over him.

“Gwen and I became intimate days after the Stocktons’ ball,” Sebastian countered.

Lachlan scoffed. “You can’t expect me to believe that.”

“I don’t care what you believe.” Sebastian found this line of questioning infuriating. He half-expected the man to ask how the seduction took place. What must he do next, he wondered, describe in detail the act of making love?

With a great effort not to reach across the room and slap Gwen’s father, Sebastian responded with the story he had rehearsed on his ride to Ainsley. “It occurred on my grounds, the day Gwen got caught in the rain.”

Lachlan marched over to the bell pull and rang for his butler. “I will not allow you to be present when I speak with my daughter. Wait downstairs.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Sebastian shook his head, his tone vehement. “And you will not, under any circumstances show Gwen any disrespect.”

“I will do as I damned well please!” Lachlan boomed.

“Not if you value your teeth,” Sebastian said in a controlled voice as he walked toward his foe. “If you fail to treat your daughter, the future Duchess of Davenport, with the respect she deserves, I will knock every blasted incisor out of that mouth of yours. I’ll make sure you won’t utter a word for at least a month. Have I made myself clear?”

Lachlan spat, his spittle landing close to Sebastian’s shoes. “Respect? No one will respect her once the gossip reaches the
ton
. She can’t even be married in a church for God’s sake. She will be condemned by everyone.”

“Don’t say another word about condemnation. This whole conversation could have been avoided if you had listened to her last night instead of playing God with our lives.” Sebastian cursed Lachlan to his rotting core.

“How in the hell do you know about our conversation?”

Sebastian crossed his arms, his stare
unswerving. “You don’t know your daughter at all.” He then turned away from Lachlan, disgust forming a large, hard knot in his throat.

The knock on the door announced Norris. Once he entered the room, the poor man took an immediate step backward, as if the tension between the two men before him was palpable.

“Bring my daughter to me,” Lachlan ordered.

“Yes, sir.” The butler cleared his throat, “Excuse me, Your Grace?”

Standing with his hands on his hips and staring at the fireplace grate, Sebastian nodded his head in acknowledgment. “Yes.”

“Dr. Danbury wanted me to inform you that he’s waiting for you in the parlor.”

“Thank you, Norris.”

Sebastian caught sight of Lachlan’s gaping mouth and shrugged. “I came prepared in case your health failed.”

Lachlan’s eyes narrowed to mere slits as he strode to his chaise then collapsed, in defeat, Sebastian hoped.

They awaited Gwen’s arrival in silence as tension, like a raging inferno, crackled throughout the room.

Gwen opened the door to her father’s study, her heart thumping at a maddening pace. She took pains to make her tone sound strong as she entered the room. “I’m glad you called for me father as I was just coming to find you. There is something we
must discuss.”

Sebastian cleared his throat as he closed the door behind her.

Gwen’s heart skipped several beats at the sight of him. What would cause him to meet with her father alone? The room began to spin as she crossed to the fireplace mantle and leaned against it for support.

“I-I apologize,” she said, struggling to regain her composure. “I was unaware you were here.”

Her mind raced.
Dear God, he’s here!
The room continued to spin and she silently urged her taut nerves to settle down before she swooned.

Sebastian’s eyes remained fixed on hers. His expression was loving, concerned, protective and almost too much for her to endure.

“Be seated Gwendolyn.” Her father’s frosty tone gave her pause. His stare was cold and intense and a shudder wracked her body at what was to come.

She obeyed, walking on weak knees to the sofa. “What is the meaning of this, Papa?”

The door burst open. All the occupants turned their heads and stared as Tristan swaggered into the study.

“Norris said there was some sort of family meeting afoot.” Tristan’s gaze traveled from his sister and father to their guest. He then nodded to the Duke. “Forgive my abrupt entrance, Sebastian. It’s always good to see you. What is all this about?”

“This doesn’t concern you, Tristan,” Lachlan bellowed. “Leave at once.”

Tristan strode in defiance to the sofa, joining his
sister. “You know I don’t take orders well, Father.” He squeezed Gwen’s hand in support.

Silence entombed the small room.

“Now, why this little tête-à-tête?” Tristan asked his sister.

“I don’t know.” Gwen found her voice, grateful that Tristan had stayed. “I just arrived myself.”

Only the
tick-tock
of the grandfather clock interrupted the forced hush that had again befallen them as Gwen’s father scrutinized her features. His face remained remote and foreboding, unnerving her.

She took a deep breath and rose, addressing her father. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Ignoring the man’s obvious discontent, Gwen crossed the study then stood in front of Sebastian. Her voice was no louder than a whisper, “If you’re here to save me from marrying Keir, you needn’t go any further with this—”

“Don’t,” he whispered in warning. “Don’t tell me that you’re fulfilling your duty by marrying that—”

“I’m not. Not marrying Keir, that is.” Gwen glanced over Sebastian’s shoulder. Her father’s expression conveyed she was running out of time. “My refusal is what I planned to further discuss with my father so you needn’t involve yourself or your sister in my mess.”

Sebastian’s eyes danced with surprise. “You’re not marrying him?”

“What are the two of you whispering about?” Lachlan roared.

Sebastian turned toward Gwen’s father and
brother who were gaping at them, their curiosity evident. His exasperated sigh conveyed that privacy was needed.

He took Gwen’s hand and led her to the hallway. “Excuse us. We’ll just be a moment.”

Lachlan jerked to his feet. “You’re not taking my daughter one inch out of this room unaccompanied.”

“Wait here.” Sebastian muttered to Gwen as he released her hand. He then turned on his heel and walked to her brother, grabbing the back of Tristan’s coat then lifting him up off the sofa.

“We won’t be alone,” he muttered over his shoulder as he thrust Tristan toward the door.

“Ah, yes,” Tristan said, now catching on to the game. “I must be the chaperone.”

Lachlan glared at his son. “Don’t leave them alone, Tristan!”

“Yes, do not leave us alone, Tristan,” Sebastian growled before shutting the door behind them. He then grabbed Gwen’s hand, issuing his next edict over his shoulder as he led her away from the door. “Leave us alone, Tristan.”

Tristan protested with a wry grin, “But you just said—”

“Never mind that, just leave us!” Sebastian halted in mid-step, his annoyance apparent.

Tristan reached for the door handle, in an apparent attempt to return to the study.

Sebastian clasped his shoulder to stop him. “Not in there, man! Go somewhere else. I’ll get you when we’re done.”

“Done with what precisely?” the younger man
asked, his arms now crossed over his chest.

An exacerbated sigh escaped Sebastian’s lips as he took Gwen’s hand again, leading her down the hallway.

“Sebastian, where are we going?” she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

He opened doors in search of a room where they could speak privately.

“Sebastian?” Gwen dug her heels in.

“Why is it that every door I open is a bedchamber?” he muttered under his breath.

Tristan had followed them step for step. “That is a very good question, for you are not taking my sister into a bedchamber. That is not negotiable.”

“Spoken like a true attorney,” Sebastian mumbled. He then added in frustration, “Don’t you have any rooms in this wing that aren’t bedchambers?”

“Yes,” Tristan replied with a smirk. “We just left one, with my father fuming in it.”

Sebastian expelled another breath before speaking. “This is wasting far too much time. You,” he said to Gwen, “come with me.” Then, pointing to a large window at the far end of the hall, Sebastian instructed Tristan, “We will be at this end of the hall, and you will be at that end of the hall. I need to speak with your sister in private.”

“Oh, you need to speak with her. Ah, yes, well you had me worried there with all of the opening and closing of boudoir doors.” A lazy smile draped across his rugged features. It was evident that he was enjoying this too much for Sebastian’s sake.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes in warning at the
younger man’s antics then led Gwen to the far end of the hall. Upon reaching the large window, his grip softened and Gwen at long last enjoyed the prickly sensations that his touch always awakened in her. Just the night before, she’d believed that he would never touch her again, and now, he was holding her hand.