Philip was sound asleep in the arms of his mistress when his father, Edward, the Duke of Heatherton, kicked in the bedroom door and strode furiously into the room.
“Father!”
“Get out of that whore’s bed and get your clothes on.”
“How dare you…” When Lady Jane Middleton raised her head and saw the duke’s face, her words froze in her throat.
“Your services are no longer needed,” the duke said, tossing an envelope on the table. “This should compensate you for any embarrassment you feel you might have suffered.”
Meekly, Jane lay back down.
Having already leaped from the bed, hastening to do as his father demanded, Philip felt his heart race. He had never seen his father so furious, and he was at a loss as to why. His father knew he had a mistress. Jane was a frequent visitor to their country estate. He could not understand what caused this sudden change. “What is the meaning of this?”
“In the carriage,” the duke said. “Now, if you please.”
“My shoes…”
“You’ve other shoes.” His Grace turned and left the room in the same manner that he had entered, only this time, Philip ran behind him, tugging on his coat in his bare feet.
By the time he reached the carriage, his father was waiting inside. Without saying a word, he climbed inside. The moment the coachman closed the door, the duke turned on him with dreaded intensity. “I have waited for you to amount to something until I am out of patience. I have provided you with every opportunity, the finest education, the benefit of my wisest counselors, as well as my own guidance and a bloody fortune. What do I get in return? A wastrel! A good-for-nothing, fornicating wastrel who thinks his father is too stupid to realize he is being played the fool.”
“I never…”
“You never intended to marry Lady Weatherby, did you? It was all a ruse, a way to placate me. Somewhere in that tightly drawn mind of yours, you thought your father was old and stupid, a relic from the past that you could outwit and outwait. How I must have disappointed you when I continued to enjoy supremely good health, instead of dying and leaving everything for you to squander.”
“That isn’t…”
“Don’t lie to me! Spare me that indignity, at least! I have been on to you for some time now, but out of respect for your mother and a reluctance to humiliate myself by disowning my own son, I allowed it to go on. Well, my boy, you took it one step too far when you broke your engagement with Sir William’s daughter.”
“She’s the one who wanted to cry off.”
The duke slapped Philip in the face with his leather gloves. “Do you think I am a fool? I have all the details. I have talked to your friends, whose fathers managed to extract the truth in a manner similar to this. It would serve you well to remember the reason you were betrothed to Lady Weatherby in the first place. In case you have forgotten, let me refresh your memory. We are a very wealthy family, but in land only. When it comes to money, I am afraid that is another matter entirely. Our fortune has dwindled over the years. There is only enough left to cover the expenses for your mother and I, and to provide you with your monthly allowance…an allowance that you squander. Lose the lands we hold, and you have nothing. However, if you have any interest in holding on to what we now own, so that you will some day inherit, it is imperative that you marry a wealthy woman. Do I make myself clear?”
“Explicitly so.”
“Good. I want no misunderstanding on the graveness of this matter. Now, should you foolishly choose otherwise and decide you want to fritter away our holdings by lavish misuse, I will be forced to start selling off property you would have inherited. In other words, the longer I live, the less you receive. That should be all the motivation you need. You bumbled the whole affair, and badly. When she came to you, it was your place to satisfy her, to set a date for your wedding.”
“But I…She did not want the wedding date set. She—”
“I know you did not lift a finger to put things right, so don’t insult me by trying to say you did. I have already met with my solicitor to change my will. You better pray my good health continues, because when I die, my boy, you are left without a sixpence.”
Philip realized he was caught, that there was no way out of this thing except by begging mercy and asking for one more opportunity to prove himself. He knew his only chance to save himself was by bending to his father’s will. He had to lower himself to whatever level his father required. The duke could not prevent his inheriting the title. It was his right by birth. However, his father could sell off the lands he would inherit, just as he said, and he could do it as easily as he could disinherit him. Philip knew that would leave him with nothing more than the title and the clothes on his back. He would be ruined. Not even the lowliest of titled persons would allow his daughter to marry someone so disgraced.
“What can I do? I had no idea you felt as you do, or that things looked so bleak. I think I deserve another chance, before you disown me. Give me a chance to prove myself.”
“You have one month to convince Lady Weatherby to forgive you and set the date. After that, you have one month to see yourself wed and the marriage consummated. Once I am satisfied, I will change my will, but even then, you will receive only a small pension from my estate as your inheritance in yearly sums that gradually increase, as long as I am pleased with your progress.”
They had reached the duke’s London town house, and the carriage stopped. The Duke of Heatherton climbed out. “Charles will drive you home. Remember, two months is all you have to set things right and marry the chit. After that, you are no longer my son and all financial assistance to you will terminate.”