Flirting With Fortune swak-3

by Erin Knightley

  She laughed lightly, shaking her head at him. “You’re forgetting that he’s more gentleman than pirate . . . and I’m your stór, no one else’s.”

  She’d shocked him. Actually, she’d shocked both of them. Perhaps the negus was stronger than she realized. Not that she minded—it was rather exciting to say such naughty things in such a public place, even if her voice had been much too low for anyone but Colin to hear.

  And Colin did hear it. There was no denying the sudden intake of breath or the widening of his pupils. “I doona think I’ve ever heard more pleasing words in my entire life,” he said, keeping his tone casual even as his gaze turned to an alluring smoky gray.

  “Does that make you happy, then?”

  “More than I could express in a roomful of people. Especially since it so thoroughly echoes the way I feel.”

  Warmth bubbled up within her, spreading from her fingertips to her cheeks. Seeing him in his element tonight, surrounded by the works of his father, looked to with respect and listened to with interest, she couldn’t help but feel that no one else could possibly suit her better. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, with its cupid’s bow upper lip and perfectly proportioned lower. She’d studied those lips, drawn and painted them, and explored them with her own.

  “Then perhaps you’d like to come by Granville House this week. I may be busy,” she said, licking her own lips with sudden nervousness for what she was about to say, “but my brother should be home. I’m quite certain he’d be happy to speak to you, if you were struck by such a desire.”

  “Desire” was the perfect word to describe the almost molten quality of his gaze. He knew exactly what she was implying. A wave of anxiety almost made her lose her nerve, but something in that heated look made her stand her ground. He was silent for a moment, his chest rising and falling in shallow succession, before swallowing and taking a small step closer. “Beatrice, is that truly your wish?”

  “Yes.” The single word was breathless, raw in a way that couldn’t be mistaken.

  He reached forward and slid his hand beneath hers, bringing it to his lips without ever breaking eye contact. “Allow me to bid you good evening, my lady. I look forward to seeing you again very soon.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Sir Colin Tate, my lord.”

  At the butler’s introduction, the earl, seated in an oversized brown leather chair behind the large dark desk, came to his feet, holding a hand out to Colin.

  “Come in. Come in. Have a seat, my good man. May I offer you a fine scotch?” Raleigh seemed to be in exceptionally high spirits, not at all the imposing force Colin half expected. It was a bit jarring, actually, especially given the dark and imposing quality of the study. Warm browns and rich reds filled the space from floor to ceiling, relieved only by the uncovered windows at the back of the room.

  The butler shut the door behind him, and taking a fortifying breath, Colin nodded. “Yes, thank you.” He settled into one of the chairs facing the massive desk, his spine rigid despite the earl’s greeting. He’d waited all of a day before coming. Amazing he had lasted even that long. The night of the gallery opening, he had been debating how best to move forward.

  He could have never imagined Beatrice would be the one to do the job for him. Just like that, looking up into his eyes with her fiery, intimate gaze, suggesting that he speak to her brother. It was as if she had waved a wand, granting his greatest wish.

  At the credenza, Raleigh filled two crystal tumblers, then handed one to Colin before taking a seat behind the desk. Taking a hearty swig, he leaned back. “I thought I might see you here this week.”

  “Did you?”

  “Absolutely. I have eyes, after all,” he said, his lips tipped up in an easy grin. “All right then. Acting on behalf of my absentee father, allow me to ask of you, Sir Colin, what is your business here today?”

  Colin’s throat tightened and he cleared it, surprised at the force of his nerves. “I’m here today to request your permission, as well as your blessing, for me to ask for Lady Beatrice’s hand in marriage.”

  “As I suspected,” Raleigh said with a nod. “Well, I’ve never done this sort of thing before, but I assume we must first hash through all the proper financial bits and pieces. No, actually, let’s do that second. First, let me say that I’m damn glad to hear of your interest. Especially since I believe we understand each other so well.”

  An oddly jovial threat if Colin had ever heard one. He smiled as well as he could manage and nodded in acceptance of the earl’s statement. “Thank you, my lord. And, yes, it is always best to have full understanding of where another stands.”

  “And though Beatrice will have the final say as to the acceptance of your offer for marriage, it is my opinion that the two of you will suit quite well. Now, then,” Raleigh said, setting his drink down and sitting up straight in the chair, assuming a more businesslike tone, “on with the monetary part of the arrangement. Beatrice’s dowry has been set at twenty-five thousand pounds. I am aware that you have an estate in Scotland and that you are training to become a barrister. What are your prospects?”

  If ever there was a loaded question. Since it probably wasn’t a good idea to start the conversation by saying, “Utterly dreadful,” Colin started with the good news. “The estate is quite stable and brings in around two thousand a year. My brother and sister live there now with my grandmother. I have another year at the Inns of Court, but after that I have every expectation of pursuing a career as King’s Counsel.”

  He went on, discussing all of his careful plans that he had spent years developing. He was concise, factual, and clearheaded, wanting to be very sure that Raleigh understood his ambition and character. Raleigh nodded every now and then, allowing him to say his piece.

  And then came the part he had been dreading since he got there. Hell, he’d been dreading it since the moment he decided to come to London to find an heiress. Taking a deep, bracing breath, he dove in. “When I arrived in the city, it was with the knowledge that it was time for me to choose a bride. It never occurred to me that Lady Beatrice might be that bride. As far as I could tell, she was—is—above me in almost every way possible.”

  The earl cracked a smile, but didn’t interrupt. Colin gathered he agreed with the sentiment. “But then I came to know her, and I discovered her to be the talented, confident, beautiful woman I had always suspected her to be. What I didn’t expect was for her to find something of interest in me. But I believe that she did, and beyond that, I feel that we suit perfectly, in a way I never imagined any woman might. When I am near her, I feel like a better person for it.”

  His fingers wrapped around the curved wooden armrest of his chair as he willed himself to speak plainly about his situation. “Unfortunately, I did not have the luxury of choosing a wife based on compatibility and mutual affection alone. This is because my father chose to mortgage the estate against a business loan he procured in hopes of starting a successful engraving business. I was unaware of this decision until a month ago, when his creditors arrived at the estate to inform me that the loan will be due in January.”

  For the first time, the earl’s affable facade slipped. “Cannot the business be sold to satisfy the debt?”

  Heat crept up Colin’s chest, a combination of lingering anger and shame. “The business failed. The property has been sold, as well as the equipment, but much of the original investment has been lost.”

  “How much is owed at this point?”

  “Ten thousand pounds.”

  Raleigh’s jaw clenched at the amount, and he sat back in his chair. Nothing remained of his earlier enthusiasm. “Why don’t you sell the estate? I know it’s not entailed, and it hasn’t even been in the family for long.”

  “I would happily do just that, but unfortunately, my father agreed to some rather atrocious terms in his enthusiasm to get the business going. He actually signed the estate over to the creditors in trust, so that if the loan defaulted, the creditors get it all.”

/>   “Bloody hell.”

  If that didn’t sum up the situation, Colin didn’t know what did. “Yes, quite. Which brings me to my offer of marriage. Originally, I had planned to find a bride whose family would be happy to have a baronet. A business transaction of sorts: She would bring the funds necessary to release the estate, and I would be able to offer whatever good standing I have in society. What I didn’t plan on was losing my heart to a lady so thoroughly without need of my very minor title.”

  Raleigh didn’t say a word, but clearly he agreed with him. With the worst of it out, Colin sat up a little straighter, looking the man in the eye. “So here is what I propose. It was never my intention to live off of anyone’s dowry. The estate’s income, combined with what I’ll earn when I am a barrister, is more than enough to have a comfortable life. Though I do need the ten thousand to pay off the debt, the rest of the dowry, in its entirety, shall be signed over to my wife in the marriage settlement. I also want you to know that, in addition to the forfeiture of the remaining dowry, it is my intention to gift her my father’s studios, in hopes that she will continue to create her beautiful artwork.”

  Having said all that he’d intended, Colin closed his mouth, settled his hands in his lap, and waited. For a few moments, the only sounds in the room over the pounding of Colin’s heart were the ticking of the clock and the distant rumbling of carriage wheels on the street beyond the window. The earl watched him through narrowed eyes, either deciding what to do with him or wishing him to perdition.

  Probably the latter.

  At last, Raleigh blew out a harsh breath. “Christ.” He dragged a hand through his hair, a show of emotion that might have surprised Colin in another man but fit the unconventional earl. “Confound it all, man—why did you have to put me in such a bloody awful position?”

  Colin tilted his head in confusion. Of the two of them, Colin was most definitely the one in the bad position. No man wanted to lay bare his family’s failures, opening himself up for judgment and rejection. “It was never my intention to cause you difficulty.”

  The earl sighed with exasperation, crossing his arms over his chest and leveling his disconcertingly clear gaze on Colin. “My whole responsibility in this transaction is to look after my sister’s best interest. If she thought for one second you were marrying her for her money—”

  “I swear to you I am not. You’ve heard my plan. No man would make such a proposal if they wished to marry for money alone.”

  “I believe you.”

  The statement should have been more reassuring than it was. Perhaps it was the subtle emphasis on the word “I,” implying that no one else would.

  “The problem is, Beatrice has it in her mind that there is no greater devil than a fortune hunter. She’s been hurt in the past, as has one of her friends. I love my sister very much, but sometimes she can get a thought into her head and it can take an act of Parliament to get it out.”

  “You doona think she would accept me, under the circumstances?”

  “I know she wouldn’t accept you.”

  Bloody hell. There was no plainer answer than that. His chest ached as if the words had been knives, piercing straight through to his heart. She could never love him. How was that possible, given the strength of the feelings he had for her? And he knew that she had strong feelings for him as well. Had she not practically asked him to ask for her hand? He sat for a moment, absorbing the pain, absorbing the blow to his hopes. Had he not known all along that this was a possible—hell, even likely—outcome?

  The thing was, he had foreseen rejection from her brother, but not from her. He needed to regroup, to have some time to sort out what the hell to do next. It wasn’t something he could do with Raleigh’s keen gaze lying heavy on him. He started to stand, but the earl held up a hand.

  “Stay where you are.”

  In general, he didn’t allow himself to be commanded by another man, but something in Raleigh’s tone had him obeying.

  “The reason why you have managed to put me in a rather shit position is because I know she won’t accept your suit, given the circumstances of your finances, but I also know how she feels about you.”

  Colin’s face was completely impassive. He knew because he was concentrating every ounce of his willpower to accomplish just that. Everything inside him wanted to beg Raleigh to expound, to tell him exactly how Beatrice felt. His ribs ached with the force of emotion ricocheting beneath them. With a neutrality born from his years taking his meals at the Inn, he said, “Oh?”

  “I have to say, I think you are a damn good match for her. I think you showed honor in the way you approached the subject of your finances and a clear determination to keep her best interests at heart. Most important, I’ve seen the two of you together.”

  The sly look he gave Colin left him feeling completely exposed. What had he seen? Colin prided himself on his impassive facade—never revealing anything he didn’t intend to. Perhaps there was one emotion that simply couldn’t be hidden: love.

  Raleigh shifted back in his chair, putting one hand to his chin and tapping the other on the gleaming surface of the desk. “I want my sister to be happy, Tate. I know what I’ve seen, but let me leave nothing to chance. Do you love her?”

  “Yes.” No hesitation. None needed.

  “Then I will offer you this: You may ask for her hand in marriage, but only under one condition.”

  Caution and prudency went straight out the window as hope flared to life once more. “Name it.”

  “Do not, under any circumstances, let her know about this whole mortgage business.”

  Colin blinked. Surely he had misheard the earl. “You wish for me to lie to her?”

  “No, of course not. If she should ever say to you, ‘Sir Colin, is your estate saddled with debt that can only be paid off with the use of my dowry?’ then obviously you should answer truthfully.”

  So in other words, Raleigh wished for Colin to continue what he had been doing. Withholding the truth unless explicitly asked. The thought of it weighed heavy in his stomach, but what other choice did he have? The earl was offering him a way to be with the woman he loved and, by extension, save the estate for the family he loved.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “There is no need to decide anything now. I just wish for you to know this: I’ve never seen my sister quite so happy as when she is with you. The point is, I don’t want anyone to stand in the way of her happiness—including herself. I know how miserable a person can be when they decide to act with their head instead of their heart. It’s not a fate that I wish her to endure.

  “From what I can tell, your financial distress is not of your making and can be fixed in short order. With any luck, Bea will be so pleased with the marriage settlement, she’ll never question what happens with the ten thousand.”

  Coming to his feet, Colin offered the earl a curt nod. “Thank you for your time, your suggestion, and your faith in me. I can assure you it is not misguided.”

  Raleigh tipped his head. “I’m counting on it.”

  Colin turned and made his way to the door, feeling the earl’s gaze on his back the entire time. Just as his fingers touched the small brass knob, the earl said, “And, Sir Colin?”

  He knew that had gone too well. Turning, he lifted a questioning brow.

  “If I find that you are less than sincere in any of your intentions, I don’t care if I am just shy of the right of peer privilege. I will kill you.” The threat, delivered with a calm smile, was accompanied by dead-serious blue eyes.

  “Duly noted.”

  Chapter Twenty

  If she never saw the inside of a modiste shop again, it would be too soon.

  Beatrice sighed in relief when the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the black lacquer door of Granville House.

  “I still think there was time to visit one more shop,” Carolyn said, straightening her bonnet as they waited for the door to open.

  Beatrice barely had the strength to
roll her eyes. “If six shops weren’t enough to find what you were looking for, I don’t imagine another would make much difference. Besides, Mama would have our heads if we stayed one minute after five.”

  “Which makes it all the more intriguing,” Jocelyn replied, flashing a devilish grin. “If five o’clock is when the gentlemen come out to play, then I’d say it’s the perfect time for one to lose track of ten or fifteen minutes in a shop with an exceptionally large front window, don’t you?”

  The door swung open before Beatrice could properly scold her, so she settled for a brief heavenward glance, with a shake of her head thrown in for good measure. She let her sisters disembark first, waiting patiently while they gathered their reticules and skirts. Lord, but she could already tell they were going to be trouble next Season. Half the words spoken today had been dedicated to the gentlemen at the gallery opening last night. Actually, it was more like three-quarters.

  But for the first time, Beatrice had had absolutely no interest in discussing the gentlemen of the ton. She’d seen the other men there and had even spoken with several, but there was nothing about them that interested her any longer.

  Which, in a roundabout way, explained why the day had been so tedious. She had exactly one man on her mind, and the whole time she was out, she was wondering if he would actually speak to her brother. She pressed her hand against her chest to combat the fresh wave of nerves that assailed her at the mere thought of such a thing.

  She had been beyond bold by suggesting he do so, but why shouldn’t she have a hand in her future? Isn’t that what she had been encouraging with her letters to the magazine? For women to stop looking to others and instead take matters into their own hands?

  When both girls had exited the closed carriage, she scooted to the edge, taking care to gather her skirts so they didn’t trip her. With her eyes on the step, she grasped the gloved hand waiting to assist her. But instead of providing impassive support, the servant’s hand returned her grasp, and she knew at once it wasn’t a servant.