My Only Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

concerned.
    Calmly,
Damien placed his fine linen napkin on the table by his plate, and pushed back
his chair. "Perhaps this is better discussed in private."
              "Don't
bother. Just thought I'd drop by and tell you to your face you can go to hell.
I'll save Braithwaite myself—"
              "And
how do you intend to do that? You've already squandered your quarterly
allowance, and—"
              "I
won't sell my soul to some trollop. Even I deserve better than that."
              "Really?
What gave you that idea?"
              Philippe
Fitzpatrick leapt from his chair as Miles lunged toward his brother. The
fair-haired lord placed himself between the two, his hands planted firmly
against Miles's shoulders. "Gentlemen! This is neither the time nor the
place to discuss such a delicate matter."
              "There's
no discussion, Fitzpatrick," Miles replied. "I don't intend to marry
the chit, Dame, and I resent the hell out of your attempts to manipulate my
life."
              "For
your information," Damien snapped, "I had nothing to do with any
so-called manipulation. Lord Devonshire approached me as head of the family on
the matter last week, and I gave my approval."
              "Just
what the blazes gives you the almighty power over my personal life? You're not
my father, Earl Warwick. You're my brother—oh, I do beg your pardon,
m'lord—half-brother. My younger half-brother at that. You have no right—"
              "The
hell I don't." Kicking aside his chair, Damien moved around the table,
resplendent in his finely tailored black velvet dinner jacket and snow-white
cravat. Shoving Philippe Fitzpatrick out of the way, he stood toe to toe with
Miles, the Warwick temper burning in his eyes, and his fists clenched. "I
have every right, Kemball. Despite your inability to accept the stark, ugly
realities of our situation, I am the head of this family. It is thanks only to
my attempts to bring some sort of truce to our relationship that I have
tolerated your ineptitude this long. You convinced me two years ago that if I
would only give you the opportunity to prove that you could straighten out your
life, you would accomplish grand things with both Braithwaite and the
mines."
              "Braithwaite
should have been mine anyway, Dame. I was Joseph's firstborn—"
              "Damn
you, Miles! Why can't you get it through your thick head that as far as the
prevailing laws in this country are concerned you don't exist."
              Silence
filled up the room. Even Freddy Millhouse had the good sense to remain quiet.
              In
a more restrained voice, Damien said, "As far as the mines are concerned,
since you took control the miners are constantly going on strike. I understand
it's due to unsafe conditions."
              "There
has to be money for renovations, m'lord. You know that. I've sunk every last
shilling I own into those bloody pits. You expect me to work miracles, Damien.
I'm doing my best—"
              "Are
you?"
              "Yes,
goddammit! I'm sick to my teeth of spending my days and nights negotiating with
a lot of half-dead miners who seem to find some game in making my life a living
hell."
              "No
game, Miles. They simply don't like you. And they sure as Hades don't trust
you."
              "That
should bring you immeasurable pleasure."
              Damien
shook his head and said more softly, "No. It may surprise you to know that
it doesn't please me at all. Believe it or not, Miles, I had hoped to see some
spark of Warwick ambition in you. I had hoped that I could take my family and
move to America with the idea that I was leaving Braithwaite in worthy hands.
The sad fact is, she's in worse shape now than when you took over residence. I
simply thought marriage—and the accompanying settlement—would give you a new
beginning."