Page 47 of The Beast's Bet

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“Papa, I have a fortune,” she rushed. “I have someone who will marry me.”

He tsked. “Oh, did he tell you that? Did Tom Courtney tell you that he’ll wed you?”

“Yes,” she said, raising her chin, refusing to be cowed any longer.

“And is that why you gave yourself to the good earl?”

“It is indeed,” she replied evenly, though her insides were shaking.

“Then you are a fool, Elizabeth,” he said coolly. “He has no doubt already washed his hands of you and gone on to the next. Did you not hear that you were the subject of a wager?”

She bit her tongue.

She wanted to tell her father everything, the entire story of how Tom had come to her and told her the truth of what those gentlemen had wanted to do, but that would make her a fool indeed.

She did not want to reveal that Tom was on her side. That he would come for her. That they had made vows.

And she did not doubt them for a moment.

No, she had to find another way. There had to be another way out of this.

And so, she waited to hear her father’s plan. “I’m going to have to send you north my dear to one of my castles where I shall lock you up and keep you in the manner to which you clearly wish to become accustomed. You cannot be trusted with your own safety. I hope you like cold cells and little company.”

“What?” she gasped.

His eyes narrowed. “It is the only thing to be done to contain your wanton, lascivious, and insane behavior.”

Her heart began to beat wildly at that and she felt a cold sheet of ice run down her back. Because her father could do exactly what he said, there was no questioning it.

The law of the land would absolutely allow her father to keep her where he pleased. And even so… no one would dare to challenge the earl over a girl.

And suddenly she knew that she had played with the fire that she could not control. She had wanted freedom. She had wanted power and she had wanted to get away from him.

She had not succeeded.

In fact, she had walked into a trap of her own making. And now she did not know if Tom could get her out, if she could get herself out. But there was only one thing that she could do.

She could comply or she could fight him with every ounce of courage she had.

Could she fight?

Could she?

“Papa, you cannot do this to me,” she reasoned. “You wouldn’t.”

“I can.” He drew in a long, slow breath as if pulling his rigid discipline back into place. “All I know is that you are a girl who obeyed me until last night. Perhaps you have been up to more since. But you cannot be trusted with freedom. And I need to take care of you my dear and make certain that you cannot harm yourself further. I can tell you this. I will certainly not allow you into society to besmirch my good name with your behavior.”

She let out a cry of frustration. “Papa, I will not allow you to do this.”

“Allow me, my girl,” he spat. “You are nothing without me. I am your father. You would not exist if it was not for me.”

His cruel arrogance cut through her. “You have never loved me,” she gasped.

“Love,” he mocked. “Love is not for daughters. You were supposed to be a son. Your mother failed me at every turn and left me with a girl. And you will not even make a good marriage. You want to marry the filth from the East End? I cannot allow it. I would rather my line dies out than be mingled with his. Do you understand?”

She stilled, a strange calm overtaking her as she understood just how far he would go. “Yes, Papa. I understand. You are cruel and incapable of human feeling.”

He arched a brow, gazing at her as if she were pathetic in her feelings. “I’m an earl, my dear. We do not need human feelings. We are above such things.”


Tags: Eva Devon Historical