She gave a tremulous smile. “I am most pleased, Father. Merrick has been wonderful.”
Her father shot her a skeptical glance. “I researched Sebastian Blake thoroughly before signing the marriage agreements. He was known to be a scapegrace in his youth, an incorrigible. But the man I met was polished and civilized.” Unspoken was the notion that Sebastian was none of those things, but she heard it nevertheless.
And so did her husband.
Olivia winced, her heart aching. She hugged Sebastian’s arm closer.
“We can procure an annulment, Livy,” her father persisted. “I want you to be happy.”
“No annulment,” she said firmly, feeling Sebastian’s body become taut as a bow.
“If I know my son,” the marquess drawled, “it is far too late for an annulment. Don’t whine, Lambert. You bought your daughter an earl, and she acquired one. No harm done.”
Olivia gasped at the insult, instantly reminded of how cruel the peerage could be to those they deemed beneath them. Her feelings meant nothing to this man. She meant nothing. To him, she was no more than a breeding mare and a fat purse. Despite her lifelong pursuit of indifference, she couldn’t deny that the marquess’s callousness stung.
Sebastian glanced at her. Attuned to her feelings by weeks of deep intimacy, he leapt to her defense.
“Damn you!” he snarled. “Were you that desperate for an heir to your precious title? To send Carr to my wife . . .” He took a step toward his father, who hadn’t the sense to move away. “I’d have killed you both if he’d touched her in my name. I’ve a mind to kill you anyway.”
“Sebastian, no!” Olivia cried as she saw his hands clench into fists. “He’s not worth it.”
The marquess dismissed his son’s fury with an imperious wave of his hand. “You had no knowledge you were even married. You showed no interest in the Dunsmore lands, the tenants, or your duty to the title. Something had to be done.”
Sebastian laughed, a hard, bitter sound. “Those are your responsibilities until you die.”
“You must learn your place!” Dunsmore barked. “Accustom yourself to your future duties, create issue.”
Sebastian shook his head. “Stay out of my life and my business. Stay away from my wife. I won’t tell you again.”
Her father reached for her. “Come, Olivia. We’re leaving.”
“She goes nowhere without me,” Sebastian warned without taking his eyes from his father. “You are welcome to stay in my home if you like, Mr. Lambert, but Olivia’s place is with her husband. With me.”
“I don’t even know you!” Jack bellowed. “How can I trust my daughter to your care?”
“Father!” she beseeched, alarmed at his vehemence. She had no wish to defy him, but Sebastian was her life now. She prayed she wouldn’t be forced to choose between the only two people who mattered. “Please!”
“You shall have plenty of opportunity to become acquainted with me,” Sebastian said as he returned to her side and reclaimed her arm in an obvious declaration of possession. “My father is correct. It is far too late for an annulment.” His implication was clear—she’d been compromised.
Olivia flushed, mortified.
Her father searched her face, his own tight with concern. “Livy?”
“Come with us, Father.” She glanced at Lord Dunsmore. “I do not think I can remain here another moment.”
Sebastian nodded. “I agree. We’ve finished our business.” He gestured with his free hand toward the door. “Mr. Lambert. Will you join us?”
“Of course.” He shot a furious glare at the marquess. “I am not done with you, my lord. You should have held a care for your reputation. I care only for Olivia.”
Dunsmore arched a scornful brow. “Of course. You care so much for your daughter, you would marry her to a stranger without even an introduction. You’re a paragon of paternal affection.”
Jack flushed. “I considered her welfare. You cared only for your own.”
Olivia stared at the marquess and was certain she’d never met a man as devoid of emotion. He appeared to care nothing for the enmity directed toward him from all sides. She shivered merely from being in the same room with him and wondered how a man as warm and vibrant as her husband could have come from such a father.
“Where is your gratitude, Sebastian?” the marquess asked. “I procured you a beautiful bride and a hefty dowry. Of course, she’s not but a merchant’s daughter, but since you weren’t here to see to the matter yourself, you should be appreciative in any case. In fact, you strike me as unfashionably smitten, which suits the rest of your appearance.”
The hatred that poured from Sebastian poisoned the air. “You may insult me at your leisure, Father, but keep your talons out of my wife. It is only my . . . appreciation for her that prevents me from tearing you apart with my bare hands.”
The marquess laughed. “I believe you could do it, too. Look at you! You’re like a savage. Dark-skinned, long-haired, and built like an ape.”
Olivia whimpered in agony, knowing that Sebastian was bleeding from wounds she had helped to inflict. She had teased him with those same descriptions, but now he would wonder and think himself less of a man, when in fact he was more of one than anyone she had ever met.
“He’s beautiful,” she snapped. “You’re a fool for failing to see how wonderful he is. The loss is yours.” She tugged at Sebastian.
With a jerky nod, he gestured for her father to precede them.
Just as quickly as they’d arrived, they departed, her father following in his carriage. As they jolted forward, she moved to sit beside Sebastian, wrapping her arms around his stiff body. She watched Dunsmore House roll by the window, wishing it and the man inside a good riddance.
Chapter Five
Sebastian paced the length of his room in furious strides, damning himself for a fool for thinking he could return to England and survive the experience unscathed. Over and over he played the afternoon’s events in his mind. What would have happened had he not intercepted Olivia’s ship? Would she have arrived and been duped into thinking Carr was her husband?
The ruse wouldn’t have lasted long. His father must have intended for Olivia to go straight to Dunsmore House. A few months to assure a pregnancy, and she would have been too devastated to ever leave. The thought made him sick, it was so heinous. And he’d brought his wife back to this cesspool. Now she knew just how vile was the blood that flowed in his veins.
The adjoining door opened softly behind him. When Sebastian turned to face Olivia, he stilled, devastated to see her attired in a white lace night rail and robe that had to be part of her trousseau.
Her dark eyes skimmed over him, noting that he was still fully dressed. “You’re leaving,” she said flatly.