Normally she would have jumped up and down at such news. Instead, she merely inclined her head and thanked him quietly.
He nodded in approval at her manners, oblivious to her suspicion. “Yes, I have not forgotten that my library seems to be your favorite place in the world,” the earl continued gruffly. “I am also signing over two of my estates, the dowager cottage in Sherwood for your mother, and for you I will deed my castle in Herefordshire. Because of you and your brilliant match, your mother and I have at last mended fences. Though I was terribly disappointed when she defied me and married a banker, it seems that mixing common blood did not impede you from making wiser choices.”
Angelica bit her tongue to curb an angry retort for the infuriating slur on her father. Her gaze strayed to a letter on the table beside him. She was too far away to read the words but close enough to recognize her mother’s handwriting. The earl followed her gaze and frowned.
“Now,” he said with deceptive calm as Angelica braced herself for the forthcoming lecture. “I must speak with you of another matter. Your mother has informed me that you have behaved terribly over the past few months. To my everlasting shame, I hear that you have been gallivanting around in men’s clothing and even had the gall to publish two horrid stories under a man’s name.”
His eyes spat blue daggers at her. “Despite such crimes, you were fortunate enough to wring an offer of marriage from the country’s most desired bachelor. But did you go down on your knees and thank the good Lord for your fortune and repent your disgraceful ways?”
Angelica stared in stunned silence. Why did her mother always conspire against her? She shouldn’t be surprised, but her heart still stung from the betrayal. She had never guessed that Margaret would tell Grandfather about her writing.
“No,” the earl continued, giving her the feeling that things were about to get worse. “You did not. Instead I fear you have been doing everything your ungrateful little mind could think of to repel the Duke of Burnrath’s suit—discussing unseemly topics and singing inappropriate songs. You even went as far as to get yourself thrown out of Almack’s! Now, explain yourself immediately!”
Angelica blurted out without thinking, “I do not wish to wed.”
The earl’s face turned a mottled red. “I will tolerate no more of this insolence!” He pounded his cane on the floor. “You will marry the duke, and you will obey him in everything. If you do anything to stop this match, I swear to God I will cut you and your mother off from every shilling I have, and then I will use my influence to be sure that your father loses his position at the bank, so you all shall be penniless and on the streets! Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Grandfather,” she whispered through numb lips. This “pleasant little chat” had gone so much worse than she’d imagined.
“Now get out of my sight,” he snapped. “I do not wish to see or hear from you until you purge those scandalous thoughts out of your head. I am certain that you inherited them from your worthless father. Blood always tells.”
Unable to take anymore, Angelica fled to the guest room and fought the urge to cry. She collapsed on the bed, emotionally drained. All was lost. Even if she did have the means to support herself and run away, she couldn’t bear the thought of her father losing his job at the bank. Her mother and the Earl of Pendlebur had won, although Angelica doubted Margaret knew that the earl would sink so low as to threaten his own daughter and her husband to get his way. Angelica could not bring herself to believe that. To think so would kill all the love she had for her mother.
Her fists clenched the rich fabric of her quilt in impotent rage. She was ten kinds of a fool to have thought she could escape. She would have to forget her aspirations of a writing career and wed Ian.
Angelica waited for the suffocating feeling of dread to come at the thought of marriage and was surprised when it didn’t. Ian… A memory of his silver eyes and tender smile suddenly washed over her, accompanied by a feeling of longing to confide in him. The irony nearly bowled her over. I cannot believe I want comfort from the very man whom I am seeking to avoid becoming leg-shackled to! A bubble of bitter laughter escaped her lips as she sat up and straightened her hair.
Perhaps it will not be so terrible. She reached for her handkerchief. As she blew her nose, her head cleared of its panicked grief. She rose from the bed and began to pace the room like a caged tigress. For the first time, Angelica allowed herself to truly think about marrying Ian.