Suzanne Robinson by Lady Dangerous Read Free Book Online Page B

“To your newfound good sense in not inviting Yale this evening.”
    “I wanted to talk to you, not fight to keep you from murdering my brother in front of me, sir.”
    “As I said, good sense.”
    The duke shook his white head and glared at Jocelin. He had the straight Marshall nose, so well suited for looking down at others. He looked down it now at his son.
    “I’ll not argue with you. I sent for you because I’ve had enough of this useless wandering of yours. With—with Charles dead, it’s up to you to marry and produce an heir.”
    Jocelin lifted a brow. “You sent for me?”
    “Don’t be any more difficult than you must,” the duke said. “I sent a letter months ago.”
    “Do you really think I came home because you told me to?” Jocelin smiled at his father’s consternation. “I came home because my business in America was finished, and I had more here in London.”
    “You mean you grew tired of picking gunfights with barbarians and frequenting the company of red savages.”
    Jocelin took a sip of whiskey and surveyed his father over the rim of the glass. Slowly he placed the whiskey on the tablecloth and traced its cut glass with the tip of a finger.
    “I had business that needed attending to here,” he said, “and I’m not getting married, ever.”
    The duke rose and walked down the length of the dining table to stand by Jocelin. He leaned over his son, his hand gripping the back of Jocelin’s chair.
    “I thought you’d say that.”
    Jocelin’s fingers tightened their grip on his whiskey glass, uneasy at his father’s ferociously pleased expression.
    “I have but one answer for you,” the duke said. He paused, drawing out the suspense. Finally he went on. “If you don’t do your duty, the title will go to Yale.”
    Silence fell once again. Jocelin lowered his lashes and held himself still. Ice colder than that of the Never Summer Range settled over the burning core of rage that served as his heart. He tried to think clearly. In his hatred of Yale, he’d never considered what would happen if his uncle inherited the title, and along with it all that wealth and power. Yale would use that wealth and power to prey on other innocents. Disgusted with his father’s ruthlessness, he retreated further into the protection of his gunfighter role, but the duke had caught him unaware. He didn’t quite succeed.
    Lifting his gaze to the pale green eyes of his opponent, he whispered, “May God damn you to everlasting hell.”
    “I’m so glad you understand your position.”
    Jocelin took another sip of whiskey and gave his father a nasty smile. “I understand, but you don’t. I’m going to choose her.” He lapsed into his drawl. “And just think of what I’m going to bring home, Daddy.”
    The duke straightened and looked down on his son. “For tonight I’m satisfied with one victory.”
    Jocelin didn’t answer. He rose, snatched up his glass, and sauntered to the door.
    “Mother and Georgiana are waiting.”
    “You will marry, Jocelin.”
    He turned on the duke, who took a step back upon perceiving the expression on his face.
    “You’re such a God-fearing old fool. Don’t you shrink at what the Almighty will do to you for condemning a woman to marriage with me?”
    “You exaggerate.”
    Jocelin laughed. “Do I?” His voice lowered to a catlike hiss. “I’m all that is corruption dear sire. The queen says so. Wickedness and depravity lie down with me each night.” He put a hand on his father’s arm and leaned closer in confidentiality. “If you don’t believe me, ask Yale.”
    When it was obvious the duke had no reply, Jocelin bowed and allowed his father to precede him into the drawing room. He went to his mother, who was running a scent bottle under her nose and dabbing her eyes with a lace handkerchief. She held out a trembling hand to him.
    “My dear boy, how I’ve missed you.”
    “I missed you too, Mother.”
    His gaze ran over her. She cultivated a pale complexion,