No, you can't get the girl!

Nash Bolero is a scalawag. He's a two-faced liar, a cheat and a horse thief. In short, Nash is a nasty bit of goods, or so I thought.
He started out as a minor character in my new novel, with a few cameo appearances here and there--nothing too important, mind you. Little did I know that what I had in mind for Nash was not exactly what Nash had in mind for himself. But at first, he does what I tell him to do-- he lies, he cheats and he tries at every opportunity to seduce his brother's girlfriend, Becky, the virginal heroine, who quite frankly is beginning to get on my nerves. Lately, however, I notice that things are beginning to take a different turn. Nash is starting to question my decisions, to defy my authority, to want to mend his ways...to what??? Wait a minute! When did all of this start happening?
Is Nash getting psychoanalysis on the sly? Of course not, It's 1880 and Sigmund is in Vienna, nowhere near Key West or the Florida mainland.
Perplexed and a tad pissed, I turn back the pages looking for clues. Aha!!! Could this be it? Is Nash in love? No, that can't be. He doesn't even like Becky. He's just seducing her to get back at his brother, Duke. Hey, Nash, wake up! This was not supposed to happened. Don't you remember the synopsis? Duke gets the girl, you get...the girl? No, that's not the way the story goes. No, Nash, you can't have a menage a trois.