Authors: Leigh Greenwood
“Some do, but you are correct in assuming I did not take you to be one of their number.”
“Damn you!” Gavin snarled in a harsh whisper. “Will you never let up?” He had no filial feeling whatsoever for this desiccated old aristocrat, but the bastard could always slip past his guard with his damned poisonous tongue.
“It’s the rest of your life that I wish to speak with you about.”
“You can’t mean to do it
now!”
“It does seem to be an unauspicious moment,” the Earl remarked, with a wry glance at a room decorated to give one the feeling of being at the bottom of the sea. “This overabundance of green makes me feel unwell. Perhaps tomorrow morning at ten would suit you better?”
“I already have an engagement. An important one,” Gavin added when he saw his father’s brows gather.
“Then I suppose it will have to be now.”
“You must be joking!”
“This discussion has already been postponed too often. There is a very real clanger that even now it may be too late. I’m quite prepared to wait while you weigh your decision.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Gavin said furiously, when he saw his father preparing to settle into one of the several chairs with which the room was provided. “I’ll be there at ten, though it’s damned inconvenient. My friends will wonder at my standing them up.”
“Send them a message, or is writing another of your laboriously acquired skills which has been put aside in your unending quest for gratification of the flesh?”
“I’ll be there!” shouted Gavin. “Now get out. You’ve already ruined my evening.”
“I shouldn’t think I have been here long enough for that,” drawled his father. “Considering the heights of ecstasy within your mutual grasp, I would say that five minutes ought to be enough to regain any lost ground.”
Gavin was nearly speechless with rage, as much from the ruthlessness of his father’s speech as from the cruelty of his judgement.
“You needn’t bother to accompany me to my carriage,” the Earl added with a sardonic smile. “I don’t think the watch would understand.”
“I’m tempted to do it, just to see your face,” replied Gavin with a savage snarl.
“It would not be my face that would draw their attention,” his father responded dryly.
“Get out before I break your neck,” Gavin said with a reluctant crack of laughter. “I’ll be around at ten sharp, soberly dressed like a dutiful son.”
“It’s your duty I wish to discuss, but I shall save that until tomorrow,” the Earl added, as Gavin’s brief burst of good humor vanished. “I will leave you to your, uh … how should I put it? Just desserts seems too severe.”
“Just leave. You can amuse yourself by searching for the
mot juste
on your way home.” The Earl smiled thinly, saluted his son, and withdrew.
Clarice let out a long-held breath. “Is that man really your father?”
“Yes.”
“He scares me to death.”
“Then make sure you’re not around when he gets really angry. He may be as thin as whipcord and as pale as a ghost, but the bloody bastard can get into a rage that would make a sailor quake. Unfortunately, I’m the one who usually puts him out of temper. I stay away from him as much as I can.”
“Is that wise?” Clarice asked, thinking of the costly baubles Gavin had given her. “He does control your allowance.”
“I don’t have to depend on him to survive.”
“I’m glad. He might force you to give me up.”
“That’s not within his power.”
“He still frightens me,” Clarice said with a pleasurable shudder. She sank back on the bed and pushed herself up against Gavin. “I’m glad you didn’t get your body from him. I wouldn’t find you nearly so attractive.” She snuggled closer and let her hands begin to roam over his broad, muscled chest. “I hope you haven’t forgotten where you were,” she whispered seductively, as she drew his head down between her breasts.
Gavin swore to himself. It had taken Clarice
less
than five minutes to rekindle her passion. He had never wanted anything more of her than to be a satisfying bed partner, but to have her so accurately fulfill his father’s prophecy destroyed all the enjoyment he found in her company; even his body refused to respond to her caresses.
“Damn, damn, and double damn!” he cursed, getting up from the bed so abruptly Clarice nearly tumbled onto the floor.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, baffled.
“That bloody bastard has ruined it for me,” Gavin shouted, knowing that Clarice would never divine the real reason for his fury.
“You can’t let a little thing like a quarrel stop you,” she said, attempting to draw him down close so she could rub her body against him. “This kind of thing is bound to happen lots of times after you’re married,” she said coyly. “You’ll never have any fun if you let it throw you out of stride.”
“Well, I’m
not
going to get married,” Gavin declared, reaching for his coat. “There’s nothing I want from a woman I can’t get without it.”
“How about children?” challenged Clarice mildly. She tried to take his coat away from him, and was not happy when he pushed her aside, but she didn’t persist. The Earl wasn’t the only one with a fierce temper. Gavin’s hooded black eyes, down-turned mouth, powerful jaw, and deep sloping chin, gave him the appearance of a handsome bulldog.
Clarice was a little afraid of Gavin, yet that was part of his attraction. After a complacent and admiring husband, she wanted someone who would use her roughly. Gavin never did, but there was no doubt in her mind that he would use her very roughly indeed, if she dared cross him.
“It’s cruel of you to leave me like this,” Clarice said, pouting attractively. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“I doubt it,” Gavin replied with cruel honesty. “I’m not fit for human companionship after I’ve been with my father. I’m liable to bite your head off, or knock it off, just because you’re within reach.”
“Well, if you don’t
want
to see me …”
“It’s not that,” Gavin assured her, yet he knew he wouldn’t be back for several days, if at all. She hadn’t changed, she was still the same lush, attractive woman he had found so desirable in the first place, but in some way he could not explain, his father’s mockery had destroyed his pleasure in her company. He knew she was shallow and silly, even a little rapacious and untrustworthy—he certainly had no intention of marrying her—but all he had wanted was a few hours of unfettered pleasure.
He cursed his father for denying him that modest goal.
Oliver Carlisle sat stiffly erect in a wing chair near the fire, his legs crossed and his fingers drumming restlessly on a nearby table. His translucent skin and fastidious dress gave him the appearance of an effete aristocrat, a misleading appearance which had caused more than one competitor to underestimate the steel-like determination and dispassionate judgement which had enabled him to accumulate an enormous fortune. Now he was about to bring these same qualities to bear on a problem whose solution had long evaded him.
Somehow, Gavin must be brought to realize it was time to marry, settle down, and raise a family.
Distant sounds of arrival reached the Earl’s ear; at least the boy had enough force of mind to tear himself away from that overblown widow when duty called. Maybe there was hope for him yet.
Gavin burst into the library. His swift stride was a visible manifestation of his unwillingness to be present, and his dour expression an eloquent reflection of the effort he was exerting to hold his ill-humor in check.
The contrast between father and son was astonishing. Whereas the Earl was of medium height, slight build, and almost feminine in his movements, Gavin’s tall, large-boned physique and athletic appearance gave him the look of a youthful Hercules. Both men shared a clear complexion unmarked by the shadow of a beard, but the Earl’s thin, dark blond hair was in direct contrast to the thick, raven mane of which Gavin was so proud. A strong, broad nose and powerful sweeping jaw completed a face that could stop half the women of London in their tracks, but one so different from its sire that only the Earl’s unwavering certainty of his wife’s fidelity prevented him from questioning his son’s paternity.
“I’m on time,” Gavin said without a greeting. “Bear that in mind when you start in damning everything about me.
“I’ve always given you credit for punctuality,” remarked his father languidly. “It’s your unwillingness to come to this house under any except the most compelling circumstances that I complain of.”
“Can you blame me?”
“I have, frequently.” Gavin smiled without humor.
'That was a foolish question. I shall try to do better.”
“If you would only make such a promise with respect to the manner in which you lead your life, I should be much more pleased.”
“I don’t propose to discuss my life with you.”
“Did you and your ladylove part on less than cordial terms this morning?” the Earl taunted.
Gavin turned on his father with biting anger. “I spent the night in my own bed.” The Earl’s eyebrows rose questioningly. “You didn’t expect me to be in an amorous mood after your intrusion, did you? I was sure putting me out of humor was your primary objective.”
“It wasn’t, but my interest in your welfare compels me to point out that though your companion appears to be a virtual cornucopia of erotic delight, even greedy children tire of sweets when they have gorged themselves too often.”
“Is that why you maintain a virtual harem?”
“The fact that I do not share your taste for provincial widows is no excuse for crudity,” declared the Earl.
“How do you explain them to mother?”
“Your mother is a lady—”
“Then treat her like one,” Gavin exploded. “If I had a wife who accorded me half her forbearance, I wouldn’t mortify her by keeping company with half the whores in London.”
“Ladies do not inquire into such matters,” the Earl stated in dour disapproval.
“This is a waste of time,” Gavin said with a snort. He poured himself a glass of wine but didn’t seem to enjoy it. “Don’t you have some beer or ale? Bordeaux is hard to take before noon.”
“I never try,” remarked his father, as he rang a small bell that rested on the table next to him. Almost immediately a burly servant appeared from behind one of the several doors that led from the chamber.
“When did you start hiding servants behind doors?” Gavin asked sarcastically.
“There are those who believe it unwise for me to be alone with you.”
“Don’t be absurd,” growled Gavin. “I might itch to choke the life out of you, but you’re not worth being hung.”
“Such filial concern.”
“And you can drop the pretense of fatherly affection. You don’t like me any more than I like you.”
“Now that’s where you are wrong. Though I most earnestly deplore nearly every action you have taken since you moved to London, on the whole I am quite pleased with you.”
“I would have thought those attitudes incompatible.”
“When you’re a father, you will understand how easily two such contradictory emotions may coexist.”
“Then I’ll never understand. An heir isn’t important enough for me to live a lie for thirty years.”
“I hope you will reconsider,” the Earl said quite calmly. “The Parkhaven estates have been handed down from father to son for over five hundred years. It is unthinkable that they should pass out of the family when there is a healthy son capable of siring heirs.”
“How do you know I haven’t sired several already?”
“I will not tolerate a pack of bastards sired from blowzy country sluts, fighting over a title that has been unsullied for half a millennium,” decreed the Earl, suddenly losing some of his reserve.
“Is that all you care about, the title and the name?”
“I care about a great deal more, but you don’t seem to care for anything at all.”
“I do,” Gavin assured his father with a mocking smile. “I care for my horses and my clothes, and I often worry whether the champagne will last out the night.”
“I could cut off your allowance, and force you to accept my wishes in order to live.”
“I’m lucky at cards,” replied Gavin with a sudden grin. “And my horses win more than their share of races.”
“It’s inconceivable that a son of mine could actually consider supporting himself by gambling,” the Earl intoned, much as if Gavin had just announced his intention of becoming a highwayman. “Does the Parkhaven name mean nothing to you?”
“Not a damned thing. And after I’m gone, anybody who wants it can have it.”
“Lochknole will not leave my family,” vowed the Earl, with such vehemence that Gavin was surprised into regarding him more closely.
“How are you going to manage that?” Gavin took a swallow from the mug of ale that had been set down before him.
“Do you care for your mother’s happiness?” Gavin stopped in mid-swallow. The Earl watched him closely, but Gavin finished his swallow and set the mug back on the tray before answering.
“I’m surprised you don’t choke when you mention her,” he replied, barely able to maintain his attitude of unconcern.