by Kate Pearce
“Do you think he is betrothed to her?” Margaret asked.
“Surely not.” Lottie frowned. “Isn’t that a legal contract that cannot be broken? You should ask your intended.” She chuckled. “Perhaps it is a family tradition. Adam broke off his relationship with the schoolteacher to marry Emily, didn’t he?” She hastened to add, “Although that was never formalized.”
“I received the impression from Lord Hellion—I mean, his grace—that Lilly was like a sister to him.”
Lottie snorted. “Men can be rather blind sometimes, can’t they?”
“It would certainly explain her dislike of me,” Margaret agreed. “Not that she is openly hostile, of course. She is merely cold and distant.”
To be fair, most of Lord Hellion’s family had treated her with that same indifference—as if her presence was not only unwanted, but to be ignored. It made quite a change to the constant adulation she and her family received in Millcastle. She remembered her first reaction when Adam had told her he was going to marry Emily Marsham. She’d wanted him to recover their father’s lost wealth and position, but hadn’t held a high opinion of Emily, who had seemed far too meek to interest her formidable brother.
She’d been proved wrong about that and had come to like Emily very much, indeed. Perhaps if she married Lord Hellion, his grace, the Duke of Thorsway, his family would come to appreciate her finer qualities as well.
Even as she lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes, Margaret smiled at the absurdity of that fanciful notion. They would never approve of her, but they’d be too well-bred to openly oppose her, which might work in her favor. Despite everything—in fact, because of all the negatives—her resolve to thumb her nose at everyone and marry the new duke was strengthening.
Chapter 5
“Mr. Blackthorn will see you now.”
Alistair nodded his thanks to the clerk and went through into Adam Blackthorn’s office. It was the first time Alistair had ever been inside a mill, and he devoutly hoped it would be his last. The bleakness of the surroundings, the dull thud of powerful machinery that reverberated through the whole building, the people…
Adam Blackthorn stood as Alistair approached his desk, his sharp gaze running over Alistair as if he were an impudent parlor maid. He wore a plain black coat with a blue waistcoat and very white linen, which Alistair wondered how he kept clean in such a gritty environment.
“To what do I owe this honor?”
“I wish to marry your sister, Margaret,” Alistair said simply.
“Do you, now.” Adam gestured at the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down.”
Alistair complied and crossed one leg over the other in an attempt to display a nonchalance he was far from feeling.
“I understand that you have recently inherited a dukedom.”
“That is correct.” Alistair nodded.
“I suppose you think that means you’re better than me.”
“Not at all.” Alistair raised an eyebrow. “I wish to marry your sister, not engage in a pissing contest with you.”
Adam’s lips twitched slightly. “I can see why my sister approves of you.”
“She is a great believer in plain speaking,” Alistair agreed.
“She told me that she wants this marriage.”
“Then surely all you have to do is give me your approval, and we’re done?” Alistair suggested.
“I’ve done some investigating into your current financial state.” Adam picked up a pile of papers from his desk and studied them. “You are in debt, your estates are crumbling, and your own father left all his money to his second wife rather than trust you with a penny.” He looked up. “Why in God’s name would you think I’d be willing to allow my sister to marry you?”
“Because she is aware of all this and still wishes to become my wife?” Adam went to interrupt him, but Alistair was quicker. “And please don’t tell me that she doesn’t know her own mind or her own worth because she is a mere female. She knows exactly who and what I am.”
“Perhaps you have beguiled her with false promises and kisses.”
Alistair almost laughed. “Beguiled Margaret? Good Lord, man. Do you not know your own sister? If I’d been anything less than honest with her, she would’ve walked away in a second!” Alistair sat forward. “We like and respect each other and believe we would be compatible, which gives us more in common than most couples who entertain the notion of marriage.”
Adam allowed the papers to slide through his fingers. “You are aware that she has a good dowry?”
“Of course I am.”
“And you need that money to rebuild your estates?”
“Yes.”
“At least you aren’t trying to pretend otherwise.” Adam reached for another stack of paper on his desk, his clipped Northern vowels emerging more strongly with every word. “If she marries you, and I said if, there are several financial conditions I will insist are put in place to safeguard her interests.”
“I would expect nothing less from you.”
Adam pushed the papers toward him. “I suggest you read through the marriage settlement and then come back and speak to me and my solicitors again.”
“Can you summarize the parts that you believe will be contentious?” Alistair asked.
“To be honest, I don’t think you’ll like any of it.” Adam’s smile was both triumphant and predatory. “I’ll have you by the ballocks, and if you put one foot wrong with my sister, I’ll have no problem cutting you off.”
Alistair winced. “That sounds painful.” He leaned forward to gather the papers in his hand. “I’ll be staying at the Graftons for the next few days. I will send you a message when I’ve had time to read through the document.”
“As you wish.” Adam stood, and Alistair followed suit. “I’ll give you credit for turning up here and asking straight out for what you want.”
“The credit for that belongs to your sister,” Alistair confessed. “She told me not to come down here with any fancy airs, but to look you right in the eye and speak to you like a businessman.”
“She was right.” Adam came around the desk and briefly shook Alistair’s hand. “I have to visit my other mill now. Can I drop you anywhere?”
“In the nearest river, perhaps?” Alistair murmured. “Thank you for your attention, but I have my own horse.” He bowed and turned toward the door. “A pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Blackthorn.”
“Likewise.”
Alistair strode out of the office and kept going until he reached his horse, threw a coin to the boy who’d been watching it for him, and left the premises. The taste of smoke and what he could only assume was cotton or wool lingered on his tongue, making him thirsty.
He rode into Millcastle, left his horse in the stable yard, and went into the inn Francis still owned in the market square.
“Is Captain Grafton here, Nancy?” Alistair asked the landlady.
“Yes, he’s upstairs in his old rooms, your lordship.” She waved him onward. “I’ll send up a fresh bottle of brandy.”
Alistair knocked loudly on the door and went in without waiting for an answer. Francis was sitting at his desk poring over his account books.
“You survived, then?”
“Barely.” Alistair whistled. “My God, he is quite formidable isn’t he?”
“Quite? Adam Blackthorn is terrifying. He makes me look like a lamb,” Francis said.
“Hardly that.” Alistair accepted the bottle of brandy the maid offered him and opened it. “Thank you.”
He didn’t bother with a glass, but took a long swig directly from the bottle.
“That’s better.” He drew the package of papers out of his pocket. “He gave me his list of demands and suggested he’d own me.”
“It’s interesting that he drew up a marriage settlement at all,” Francis remarked. “You should be encouraged.”
“I haven’t read it yet.” Alistair drank more brandy. “Do you have a solicitor in town?”
“I do, but I don’t want him to see anything until I’ve hammered out the details.”
Francis laughed and held out his hand for the brandy bottle. “If I know Blackthorn, he’s hoping you’ll walk away with your tail between your legs.”
“If that’s what he’s hoping, he doesn’t know me and, what’s worse, he doesn’t know his sister, Margaret. If she wants this marriage, she’ll not let him stand in her way.”
“What do you mean you saw the Duke of Thorsway in your office this morning?” Margaret demanded.
Adam raised his eyebrows and put down his wine glass. “You heard me quite plainly, lass, why are you asking me to repeat myself?”
“Why didn’t you tell me until now?”
“Because he came to see me, not you.” Adam refilled his plate from the serving dishes at the center of the table. “This is very good lamb, Emily.”
“Thank you, my love, but perhaps you might address Margaret’s concerns?” Emily glanced nervously at her sister-in-law.
“Which reminds me,” Adam started talking again. “How exactly did my sister get to know a duke well enough to extort a marriage proposal from him?”
“Extort?” Margaret glared at her brother.
“For goodness sake, Adam, Margaret hardly had to do that when the man was literally following her around like a besotted lamb at the Graftons’ last dinner party,” Lottie entered the fray on her sister’s behalf. “And, to be frank, it is Lord Hellion who needs Margaret, not the other way around.”
“We decided that we would suit,” Margaret said. “It was a mutual decision. What did you say to him?”
Adam’s smile was wicked. “Don’t you want to know what he said to me first?”
“I know what he said!”
Her brother sat back in his chair and regarded her. “I’ll give you one thing, Margaret. I never expected him to turn up at the mill and ask me right out for permission to marry you. He’s a lot braver than he looks.”
Lottie rolled her eyes. “He was in the army with Captain Grafton, Adam. He’s hardly a coward.”
“He’s still a damned aristocrat, a species Margaret insisted were worthless until quite recently.” Adam winked at her. “But he stood up for himself. I like that in an man.”
“Did you agree?” Margaret asked, her hands locked together under the table, her heart beating far too wildly.
“I gave him a copy of my proposed marriage settlement.” He grinned at her. “We’ll find out what he’s made of when he reads through that!”
“Do you have a copy, yourself?” Margaret asked.
“Yes, do you want to read it?” Adam reached inside his coat and produced a folded document. “He’ll hate every sentence.”
Margaret took the papers. “You are enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Aye.” He shrugged, his smile dying. “Remember, I am doing everything in my power to protect you. When I married Emily, her father made no effort to safeguard anything for her in the way of a settlement. I got everything.” He glanced down the table at his wife. “I’ve remedied that now, but mark my words, sister, I will not allow any man to drag you into penury, duke or no duke.”
“I understand.” Even though it was hard not to instinctively protest his hardline stance, Margaret had to appreciate his genuine concerns for her.
Despite their differences, the bond between them was unbreakable. After their father’s death by suicide, they’d held the family together, both of them working to provide for their mother and younger sister until Adam had climbed back up the ranks to regain his position and substantially increase his wealth.
“If I did allow him to beggar you, you’d never forgive me, either,” Adam reminded her and reached for her hand. “We’ll see what he’s made of now, won’t we? And whether he deserves you.”
Unfortunately, sometimes Adam knew her far too well. Margaret scowled at her brother even as he grinned triumphantly back at her.
“These terms are ridiculous, your grace,” Mr. Simpkins repeated stubbornly as Alistair set his jaw. He was sitting in the solicitor’s office with Francis, attempting to find a way through the impasse of Adam Blackthorn’s draconian marriage settlement.
“If you sign this agreement, Mr. Blackthorn will have the ability to foreclose on the estate and strip it of everything of value if you do not comply with his terms.”
“He is offering to buy up all my debts and mortgages, Mr. Simpkins. Surely such a large outlay of capital on his part at the outset of my marriage deserves some security?” Alistair asked.
“Yes, but not the whole damned estate, Alistair,” Francis intervened. “Perhaps it might be better to suggest a compromise? You could offer to set aside a portion of the estate in his name in trust for your children.”
“I’d rather he wasn’t involved long term at all,” Alistair said stubbornly. “I thought to use the clean slate he’s offered me, along with Margaret’s dowry, to make the estate profitable again.”
“Which you won’t be able to do if you are too busy servicing the extortionate interest rates of his proposed loans,” Francis reminded him.
Alistair read through the complex document again.
“What if I agree to use half the dowry to fund settlements on Margaret and our future children, and allow Mr. Blackthorn to take on a smaller percentage of the outstanding debt at a more reasonable repayment rate?”
“It would take longer for you to make the estate profitable, but at least you would have some capital, and won’t be owned like a dog,” Francis remarked.
“I would suggest settling a quarter of Miss Blackthorn’s dowry on her and your issue, sir,” Mr. Simpkins advised. “The rest should be sufficient to start improving the estate and pay Mr. Blackthorn back for the percentage of debt you allow him to take on.”
“Then perhaps you will draw up the counter offer and deliver it to Mr. Blackthorn, Mr. Simpkins?” Alistair stood up. “Thank you for your advice, and let us know when Mr. Blackthorn or his solicitor responds to you.
As they exited the house, Alistair looked over at Francis. “Do you think Blackthorn will accept such a compromise?”
“I doubt it, but you can only ask.” Francis shuddered. “God bless your soul if he chooses to take exception to your proposals.”
“Ah, but I have one thing in my favor,” Alistair reminded his distant cousin. “If Mr. Blackthorn isn’t willing to strike a deal, his dear sister will never let him hear the end of it.”
“Margaret!”
At Adam’s shout, Margaret came across the hall and into her brother’s study, her bonnet still dangling in her hand. She’d been out shopping with her sister, not that there was anything worth buying in Millcastle, but she’d needed something to occupy her time while Adam and her potential husband wrangled over terms. It was somewhat frustrating to feel like a bone caught between two dogs.
“Whatever is the matter?”
He held up a sheaf of papers. “Your intended’s counter offer.”
“May I see it?” She took the document and read through it as quickly as she could before raising her gaze to her irate brother’s.
“I don’t know why you are so annoyed. You could hardly have expected him to turn the whole estate over to you.”
“I was intent on safeguarding your interests.”
“By making him totally beholden to you for every financial decision about the estate? By offering him interest rates that even the most gullible of businessmen wouldn’t accept?” Margaret handed back the pages. “This all seems quite reasonable to me.”
“Reasonable?” Adam frowned. “He seems to think he is better able to judge his own financial needs than I am.”
“And maybe he is. How many dukedoms have you run, Adam?” Margaret asked sweetly. “Perhaps, for once in your life, you might settle down and learn something.”
“And what would you say if I refuse to concede a single
inch?”
She held his gaze. “That you would never do that because it would make me unhappy.”
He frowned. “Would you marry him if I refused my help and my money?”
“Of course not! He needs my dowry, and that comes from you.”
“That’s my girl.” Adam’s smile slowly returned. “At least you admit it.”
Margaret exhaled. “I love you very much, Adam, but I really do wish to marry my duke.”
“Other aristocrats in dire straits would be more than willing to accept my terms. With your dowry, you could probably attract a royal duke.”
“But they wouldn’t be Alistair,” Margaret said. “I want the man, not the title. You know that.”
She held her breath as her brother sat down and drew the two sets of documents in front of him again, one under each palm as if he were weighing them against each other.
“Whatever terms I agree to, if he doesn’t succeed, I’ll make certain that he pays for it, and you don’t.”
“I understand that.”
“And if he comes running to me wanting to change the agreement later, I won’t listen to him.”
“I doubt he will do that.”
He looked up at her. “I’d agree with you. He’s less of a coward than I anticipated.”
“You were hoping he’d walk away.”
“I wouldn’t have minded that, lass—if he wasn’t the right man for you.” He shrugged. “But I appreciate a man who offers me a bold counterproposal these days when so many are afraid to even try.”
“So you will agree terms with him?” Margaret asked.
“With a few amendments.” He winked at her and drew the new agreement in front of him. “I can’t let him think he’s bettered the great Adam Blackthorn, now, can I?”
Chapter 6
For about the fifteenth time, Margaret went over to the window and peered out into the gloom of the rapidly darkening sky. There was no sign of the Grafton carriage. She was wearing her best blue gown, and Lottie had arranged her hair in a swathe of curls and jeweled pins.
