Anger had shot through her and she remembered jerking her head up and forcing herself to take one step then another, until finally she drew to an elegant halt at the top of the aisle, where her father finally released her.
If she was going to bolt, that had been her chance.
Instead, she’d looked at Lukas and all her fears, all her anger, had seemed to simply...dissolve. As though it was all going to be okay.
Which was why, right now, she just wanted to forget her father and return to whatever verbal jousting she and Lukas had discovered back in the cathedral. As absurd as it was, she’d found some degree of comfort in their barbed exchanges.
‘I can’t help but notice the inordinate number of devastated-looking Z-list actresses dressed as though they’re in mourning,’ she murmured as they strode into the magnificent venue.
His jaw locked, and she silently prayed that he wasn’t going to continue interrogating her about her father.
‘What can I say?’ Relenting unexpectedly, Lukas apparently decided to play along. ‘I’m quite the catch.’
‘It might have been amusing to watch, had I been in the congregation watching that car crash of a wedding, instead of standing right there at the front—one of the main participants.’
‘You didn’t enjoy being the centre of attention, Octavia? You do surprise me.’
‘And then there was Andrew, looking apoplectic.’ She snorted indelicately, a fraction of a second before she realised Lukas had stiffened slightly beside her.
‘Andrew?’ He sounded as though he could barely bring himself to spit the word out.
Oti frowned. ‘Andrew Rockman, Sixth Earl of Highmount?’ she clarified. ‘He and my father are as thick as thieves, which should tell you everything you need to know about the man.’
‘I know who he is.’ The clipped tone made her stomach flip.
‘You’re not friends?’ She didn’t know if she could stand that.
‘We are most certainly not.’
She was pretty sure that the unrufflable Lukas Woods was seething beneath his too-flattering morning suit.
How curious.
‘Good,’ she offered. ‘Because I don’t think I could stand it if you were. He’s such a bully, as are his sons. My family has known them for years. Did you know that he stormed into Sedeshire Hall, bawling at my father to call off this wedding?’
‘I did not know that,’ Lukas answered, and she got the impression he was fighting to keep his emotions in check.
She filed that away for later.
‘What exactly did he tell your father?’
‘I don’t know.’ She shrugged. ‘I can’t say that I was listening. Though he was raging about my father betraying him.’
And then she waited for her new husband to fill in the gaps for which she was sure he had the pieces.
She told herself that she shouldn’t be surprised when he merely shrugged, made his excuses and disappeared. Leaving her to greet the rest of their unimpressed guests alone.
* * *
‘You can marry as many daughters of earls as you like—it won’t make you any less of an illegitimate bastard.’
Lukas eyed the enraged, spluttering Andrew Rockman, Sixth Earl of Highmount, and forced down the bile that always threatened to drown him from the inside whenever he thought of him. The man who was—as much as Lukas would have cut out his own tongue before admitting it aloud—his biological father.
It took everything Lukas had to
keep his voice even and light, as though those insulting words didn’t resonate so deafeningly in his head. As though they didn’t scrape inside him where he’d always felt so raw.
‘I’m fairly certain that marrying as many daughters of earls as I like would make me a bigamist. But never fear, I only needed to marry the one in order for her father to give me a controlling share of Sedeshire International. The company you’ve been trying to get your grubby little paws on for years.’