Chapter Sixteen
Callerton Castle
He’d read it several times.
Our children have made the decision to be joined in marriage.
Now, those words were echoing through his brain.
At first, he’d been outraged. Furious was more like it.
The de Wolfe messenger who brought it had departed quickly, so he had no one to take his anger out on, but that didn’t matter.
He began to drink, so he was essentially taking that anger out on himself.
We are honored to have Lady Katiana as an addition to our family when she married my son, Titus.
Bloody hell. He’d read that line again and again, too.
Perhaps that’s what made Ansel the angriest—that his sister had escaped his clutches.
He hadn’t seen her in many years, and, truthfully, he had been looking forward to her returning to Callerton.
He already had her chamber prepared for her, one that couldn’t open from the inside, so he could keep her like a prisoner whilst he began to hunt for the highest bidder.
He already had a lord in Carlisle whom he’d written to, a man he once owed a gambling debt to, and the man had already sent him a missive in return stating that he was quite interested to inspect the lady.
But now, that wasn’t going to happen.
Please join us for a wedding feast in honor of our children, where we shall discuss compensation to be paid to the House of de Allery upon the occasion of this sudden event.
That was the part of the missive that had Ansel’s interest. The word “compensation” soothed his outrage quickly.
The House of de Wolfe was rich, so if they were offering compensation, then perhaps it would be worth his while.
Perhaps if he was congenial and agreeable, and gave his blessing to this marriage, they might feel particularly generous.
He wasn’t sure how they would take it if he went in there with his usual sense of entitlement.
It might lessen the amount they’d be willing to part with.
But if they found him agreeable to the entire situation…
We are certain you will find our alliance, and our offer of compensation, to your liking.
Now they’d come to the meat of it. That was the sentence that meant the most to him.
Not the alliance—he didn’t care about that.
But Ansel wasn’t beyond playing the affable ally, one who was very glad his sister had married into the House of de Wolfe.
The truth was that he hated the family, and if he could burn down all of their properties and get away with it, he would.
He thought that he might have hated Blayth the most, the man who exiled him from Roxburgh those years ago and then ruined his chances at Kenilworth, but now he thought he might hate the Earl of Berwick the most because the man had tried to tell him what to do.
Don’t burn the bodies of the dead Scots, he’d said.
Ansel hadn’t listened to him.
He showed him who was in charge.
Now, he was going to have to head to Berwick for this farce of a wedding feast simply to obtain what was owed to him.
He’d take it and then he’d probably file a grievance through the courts, anyway.
Maybe he’d even pull the church into this.
Titus de Wolfe had taken his sister, his only source of regaining his fortune, without permission, and he simply wasn’t going to be so easily placated.
Maybe he’d continue to bleed money from Berwick for years to come because of it.
But for now… for now, he’d play the happy ally.
And then he’d catch them off guard.
Come to Berwick Castle with all due haste.
Ansel planned to. God help those at Berwick, he planned to. They were all going to pay for this, and he’d find a way to make them.
He’d find a way to make his sister pay most of all.