She Ruined the Marquess: A Historical Romance (Unexpected Love Book 1)

by Anna Macy

  “There is a well-known loan agent who has been frequenting a friend’s home this summer. I believe it is because he has come to collect dues for loans and cash that traces back to this facility. He is causing quite a stir, and I’d like to know whether he is associated with you,” William lifted his eyebrows, letting the story unravel in between the two men, “I never step where I do not belong, Mr. Bohart. Still, in this case, he has come too close for good measure.” William took a breath.

  Eyes narrowing, Bohart nodded a bit, wanting him to go on. “I knew that you would appreciate taking care of your own business, without the interference of my people,” William finished before looking down and focusing on picking a thread off of his pant leg.

  He wanted to let the story be digested before pushing the owner any further. William knew that the meeting could go one of two ways. One, the man was interested and might lend his assistance in the matter, or two, this mountain of a human would have him thrown out in the streets without a backward glance.

  “You must be talking about Faber,” Bohart said finally, breaking the thick tension between the two. He stood up, shuffling over to look out of his front windows at the bustling street below. “We requested that Faber no longer be available for the patrons of Fiver earlier this year after several similar issues arose. His membership has been revoked.”

  Again, those dark eyes flashed and pinned William with a sharp look, “I run a neat club here. The majority of my guests are decent men who come here for business. But that one,” Bohart nodded, “That one was looking for trouble.”

  William stayed seated, watching the other man pace his office's length, Bohart’s steps eating up the large room. Raising his hands and feigning indifference, William put the nail to the coffin, “Did he find trouble with the new Earl of Greystone?”

  Bohart froze, his booted heels coming to a stop only a few feet from William. Rolling his eyes up to the hulking man who towered over him, William pushed on. To give Juliet a chance for her future, for a chance to be a part of her future, he needed this man on his side and his information in his hands.

  Bohart's arms were tight, his body vibrating with suppressed emotions, but his vibrant blue eyes on William were surprisingly clear. “The Earl of Greystone,” he said slowly as if feeling out the words as they left his lips. A dark chuckle escaped after, “He has been a patron of Blue Fiver since he was just the lowly Mr. Pinecrest. That man has more ambition than he does sense.”

  The way he said Pinecrest’s name, the disgust filling every syllable, made William’s heart skip a beat. At that moment, he knew he had an ally in Bohart and a valuable one at that. William gestured casually to the seat across from him again. Raising his chin, Bohart walked over to sit back down. As he did, William leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as a grateful smile taking over his face.

  “Well, it seems we have a mutual interest in Marshall Pinecrest, Mr. Bohart,” William said, “He is the stepfather of the woman I’d like to marry. Only Pinecrest isn’t inclined to allow the match. Even under the circumstances that his stepdaughter and I met.“

  Bohart lifted one slender red brow and gave William a quizzical look. “Caught, unawares were we?” He said, his voice almost teasing.

  William smiled but avoided his question; this was not the time for this story. He needed to convey the urgency situation. “I believe he means to marry Lady Juliet, his stepdaughter, to appease his extensive gambling debts, which Faber currently has hold of. I recognized Faber at the ball at Lakeview and wondered how he had weaseled his way into the party. Pinecrest has never been quiet about his financial issues, so when I saw Faber dancing with Juliet, it hit me.”

  Bogart's face was shocked now, his dark expression lightning as he narrowed his eyes at William. “Not even Pinecrest would stoop that low,” he said softly.

  William shook his head lightly, his fingers gripping a small letter in his pocket, pulling it out and smoothing it between them. Nodding to the folded note, “He has done it before,” William growled, his anger leaking out into the statement.

  “Not with Juliet, but he married widow Lady Elizabeth ten years ago, and I believe it was to stave off some bad luck at the tables that had been following him. Juliet claims that he has slowly been selling off bits and pieces of the old Greystone estate as well as small branches of their shipping company.”

  Bohart leaned back in his chair, pressing until the front legs lifted off the ground a bit. His face was pensive and thoughtful as he considered the statement. “That letter was found in Pinecrest’s room when he left Lakeview, crumpled, and discarded. I have had my man keeping an eye on him after questioning his ability to make clear-minded decisions. Although I didn’t anticipate finding this, it does make more sense,” Bohart opened the small note.

  In small, nondescript text read, “It’s the money or a marriage, your debt is due Pinecrest. We need to talk.” Bohart read it aloud once, twice, and then set it aside with a disgusted grunt.

  “He is a desperate man, in a dire situation,” William reminded Bohart, “I don’t believe he is above a trade to clear his name, even if it does make him the lowest of low men.”

  Bohart nodded, his pensive expression making him seem far less thunderous and more thoughtful as he blinked slowly. Standing up, Bohart reached his hand out to William silently. William looked down at the offering, the same that he’d been snubbed at just minutes ago.

  “I’m in. What do you need?” Bohart stated. William grinned at the man, gripping their hands together tightly. An ally.

  Reaching down, William pulled a slim pamphlet of pages from inside his coat. “For starters, let’s find out how much Pinecrest believes his daughter is worth. Then we will show him how much we believe he is worth it.” A slow murderous smile creased Bogart's face.

  ***

  The two men spent most of the days comparing notes from William’s sources of information as well as tabs and bills that the club had kept from each of their patrons. William was impressed by the man's mind for numbers and the tightly organized business that was the lifeblood behind the poker and ponies that fed it.

  They quickly discovered that even if Marshall had run up every possible tab at the Blue Fiver, he might have started to expand his addictions to other clubs in the area to be in the kind of debt that required Greystone’s level of money.

  Bohart believed there was only one that would have accepted a man with his reputation. Within moments, he had dispatched one of his crew to run to speak with them and get any intelligence available.

  By midafternoon, both men were struggling to focus on the page and pages of tiny numbers. He knew enough to have confirmed that Marshall was in way over his head, and he feared that perhaps the formerly prosperous Greystone estate might have also taken on more of his damages than he had expected.

  Pinecrest was a horrible gambler. You add that to his lack of friends, and it was apparent that he hadn’t had much success in the city. The small shipping company, handed to him due to marriage to Lady Elizabeth, was floundering. The good credit of Greystone, which he had enjoyed profusely, was now being revoked all over town.

  William rubbed his eyes. They felt like they had been blasted by a sharp coastal wind for several days, even though he knew it was merely from reading the tiny print over and over, trying to find a way to get Juliet out. Bohart was mirroring his action, his shirt sleeves were rolled up, and his jacket tossed over the back of a nearby couch. William gave him a tired look before pointedly nodding at the pile of paper between them.

  “What does this all mean to you?”

  “It means that I have a credible reason never to allow Pinecrest in my club again,” Bohart said, a wide smile on his ruddy face. “So that makes me very pleased.”

  William groaned as he stretched his arms above, his joints stiff from the lurching position he’d been locked in, “How nice for you.” He looked back down to find Bohart, giving him an appraising look.

  “What is she like?” Bohart
asked, his tone curious. He sagged his bulk back into his chair, waiting patiently, one hand mindlessly rubbing his stubbled jaw.

  “Juliet?” William paused, his mind racing over every one of her qualities. His body warmed at the memories. Her smile when they had gone riding that day by the lake. Her body in that pink number at Lakeview.

  He could share so many things, but at the same time, a large part of him wanted to keep everything to himself. Blowing out a breath, he relaxed into his chair as well, staring at the big red-headed man across from him.

  “She is everything I didn't think I wanted. She’s bold and strong, yet at the same time so soft. She rides better than most men, and she infuriates me. One moment I’m cursing the moment I met her, the next I find myself chasing her across a ballroom floor,” William paused; his tongue felt thick with emotion.

  “She makes me want to do more, to be better than my father was for my mother. Better than I am now,” He looked over at Bohart, worried about how much he had exposed to this practical stranger, but the club owner remained silent for a moment before bursting out in laughter.

  “You are a sorry case, my friend. Ruined.” Bohart stood and, going to a glass bar cart, poured himself a finger's worth of scotch. Wagging the bottle at William, who nodded, he made a second glass. Dropping the drink in front of William, Bohart sat on the edge of his desk, his eyes bright with laughter.

  “I know,” William said, saluting the other man with his glass, trying to sound sad, but his body felt tingly, energized at his confession, and its truth. The girl who had burst into his room that night had quickly made herself at home in his heart as well.

  “No one for you?” William asked, gesturing around them.

  “No one, permanent,” Bohart smirked, and William laughed again. They sat in mutually agreeable quiet for a few minutes, each sipping the deep brown liquid that burned its way through his throat and down to warm his belly.

  “What’s next?” Bohart finally said, setting his now-empty tumbler on his desk and eyeing William with something akin to excitement.

  William stood, letting his empty glass swing from his fingertips as he considered the question. “We expose Pinecrest. But quietly. I don’t want to do permanent damage to Greystone. Juliet would never forgive me,” William announced, “But first we find proof that Pinecrest is in with Faber. Or that Faber is calling Pinecrest on his loans. Either way, we need to move quickly. It doesn’t sound like Faber is keen to wait much longer for his debt to be paid.”

  Bohart extended a hand again, this time in friendship. “Let me look into them both for you,” a devilish smile curled his lips, “My people know how to get more in-depth answers than yours did.” William gave a knowing chuckle but took the man's hand, mentally noting to never get on the wrong side of Bohart’s.

  “I appreciate this. I owe you.”

  Bohart waved off the favor as if it were a pesky insect. “I was getting bored with the usual management lifestyle; this seems much more interesting.” William nodded to him. While the big man talked like he was simply looking for a fight, William had seen the sincere interest shining in Bohart’s face.

  As he followed the man’s assistant down the stairs and out through the deserted club, William got the sneaking suspicion that beneath the rough exterior, he had found a true friend and a good man in Montgomery Bohart.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Juliet had been home at Greystone for over a week, the towering buildings as empty as she had expected. Most days, she wandered the estate completely alone, the covered furniture and blank walls a stark reminder that Greystone was disappearing, piece by treasured piece.

  It was already a ghost of the place she had called home, a shadow of the formidable family that used to stalk these halls. Now it was only her footsteps echoing, and as she stared up into the remaining family portraits, she felt the dark painted eyes following her, accusing her.

  It seemed that it was with her generation that Greystone would fall. Juliet glared back into her ancestor's mahogany framed faces, her fists clenched. “Well, what am I supposed to do about it?”

  There had been no messages from William, and only one from Marian. A simple note saying that Marian and her mother had made their way home to the Wain’s family estate in Devonshire and that her little sister Laura was already making her completely mad.

  She lamented that Robert had already disappeared into the pile of business documents waiting for him in the study, while the Wains ladies had been entertaining themselves pouring over the gossip columns in search of any mention of Nicholas’ ball.

  From what they found, the Summer Finale was considered the toast of the summer, and of course, the ton was obsessed with the Earl of Greystone’s lovely daughter who had caught the eye of the handsome but brooding Marquess of Mansfield Park. Juliet had blushed reading that part of Marian’s letter.

  Juliet knew that she had been too awkward, too unsure of herself this spring when she first came out in society. But now, she felt like she was finally finding out who she was. And not just that, but who she wanted to be with. William was much more than she expected.

  Marian assured her that there was no mention whatsoever of her late-night walkabout to William’s room. So, while the small group who had been at Lakeview that night may be aware, Marshall must be keeping that secret between himself and Lord Faber for the time being. It was a double-edged sword.

  To one end, it could, in his mind, help shame and control Juliet. But on the other, it may change people’s opinions of her very quickly. Should the wrong people stumble into this secret, Marshall loses his power. It was a weapon he would have to wield carefully.

  Marshall’s anxiety over this was comical to Juliet. She didn’t plan on that secret doing anything but hopefully becoming an embarrassing story that she and William could joke about in the years to come.

  She wasn’t sure when it happened, but how could she remain ashamed of the way she met the man who she cared so deeply for. It had only been a short time, but her heart, her body, her mind, they craved him. Most of all, she missed him.

  Marshall had been away from the house since Juliet had moved back into Greystone. Her mother had raged the first day he was gone, saying that she hated being left alone in this enormous house while he got to go to the city.

  Amelia, who had come back before Juliet, told her in loud whispers over breakfast that Marshall had left Greystone red-faced and angry, telling her that he was taking care of the estate business and she had to stay at home and be a wife.

  Juliet’s eyebrows had flown up, and Amelia had nodded enthusiastically, both of them fascinated and a bit surprised to see the supposed lovebirds fighting. And in front of a full house of curious staff.

  Since then, Elizabeth had only appeared briefly for breakfast, her face drawn and pale before disappearing to her private suite where she would take her meals alone for the rest of the day.

  That suited Juliet well. She roamed the house freely, spending her evenings reading in her favorite velvet chair in the library or out riding Sterling or Winsome as often as she pleased. The two stallions had to be separated by a stall, but otherwise seemed at peace with their bachelor life at Greystone.

  Juliet had already sent a letter to her father’s old business partner asking for his opinion on maybe restarting the small breeding operation here at Greystone stables. She felt like it would honor her father’s memory and be a fun place to invest some of her allowances in. Coyly, Juliet hoped that William would like the idea and that perhaps he would be interested in partnering with her.

  One-night, Juliet sat tucked up under a heavy woven blanket, a heavy book on business practices dangling from her hand as she doodled on another notepad she had brought in. The fireplace was crackling, throwing beautiful dancing shadows over the sitting room, making the gilded wall decor gleam.

  In the warmth and quiet, Juliet’s eyes drooped, and she felt herself nodding off to sleep, but startled when a hand reached up and gripped the blank
et, attempting to cover her up more thoroughly.

  Elizabeth didn’t notice Juliet was awake, and her lovely face was naked of the coal, rogue, and jewels that she seemed to wear daily like armor. Her face was soft, almost loving, as she smoothed the fabric over Juliet’s legs, carefully tucking in the ends around her toes. Juliet couldn’t stop looking at her, and she could feel her heart tearing in two.

  Who was this woman? She acted like the mother who had grown up chasing butterflies with Juliet and reading her bedtime novels, but she looked like the same one who threatened to abandon her just last week. The same one who called her naive and stupid when what she had needed was a shoulder to lean on, to cry on.

  Juliet kept perfectly still. As soon as she was sure the blanket was carefully wrapped around her daughter, Elizabeth slipped silently from the room as if she were just another long shadow dancing in the firelight. When Juliet woke the next morning, on her position on the sofa, as she hadn’t had the heart to tear back the warm blankets after her mother took the time to tuck her in so carefully, she couldn’t help but wonder if it had all been a dream.