He captured Miss Blackwell’s hand and raised it to his lips. ‘You are very alike in your determination. Do your employees say no to you after all you have done for them?’
She withdrew her hand and moved away from him, turning her back on him. Her black dress hung limply about her body, emphasising her slender angularity and the straightness of her back. Ben found it impossible to discern what she was thinking. Silently he willed her to accept his offer.
‘And you would agree to a settlement in which I keep control of Moles?’
‘It will be hard to do within the timeframe, but I have no objection.’
‘And you want it to be a paper marriage? If you find someone else we could part amicably. It can be done.’
‘It won’t be,’ Ben said shortly. He tore his mind away from the past. There would never be another woman like Alice. He wasn’t looking for that heady feeling. That part of his life had finished five years ago, and he knew ultimately whose fault it was.
Her cheeks went pink. ‘I am well aware that this will be a business arrangement. I want you to understand that I wouldn’t stand in your way...should it happen.’
‘Is it settled? Will you stop being stubborn?’
‘But you don’t live here. And I can’t leave Moles.’
‘That will solve another problem. Viv needs funds. I have no wish to return to Leicestershire. I will purchase his property. That should put you near enough for those times when you are needed.’
He waited. Suddenly tense. This was far removed in many ways from the manner in which he’d proposed to Alice all those years ago. Then he had laughed and kissed her. She’d asked him what had taken him so long before throwing her arms about his neck. He glanced at the apple tree in front of the office building. Funny, the apple trees had hung heavy with blossom then as well. He suspected Alice would have approved, even if this marriage was to be unorthodox.
She held out her hand. It trembled under his fingers. ‘Then I accept with gratitude. You have been more than kind, Lord Whittonstall. You have saved my company from an awful fate.’
‘Please call me Ben...as we are to be on intimate terms, Eleanor.’
Her tongue wet her lips, turning them the colour of unopened apple blossom. ‘Intimate?’ she whispered.
‘Try it.’
‘Ben.’ She gave him a level look. ‘We are speaking about a marriage on paper. I have no expectation of anything else.’
He reached out and pulled her firmly into his arms. As her body collided with his he registered the fact that she was less angular than he’d supposed. He lifted her chin slightly and regarded her face. The more he looked at her, the more he found to appreciate.
He brushed her lips with his, intending it to be a quick demonstration. But the instant his mouth encountered hers he knew that he wanted more. He gathered her more firmly in his arms and drank. She parted her lips. When his body thrummed with desire he put her away from him. They both stood there, chests heaving and blood pumping far too fast.
‘It will be a proper marriage, Eleanor. My mother expects an heir and I have no intention of denying her.’ He put two fingers to his hat. ‘Good day to you. The banns will be posted. You will meet your stepfather’s conditions.’
* * *
Eleanor wandered back into her office. The men studiously avoided her gaze, pretending interest in the ledgers and other bits of paper.
Her fingers explored her mouth. Lord Whittonstall...Ben...had kissed her in full view of everyone. Put his mark on her. She’d never dreamt a kiss could be like that. Heart-stopping. Exciting. And absolutely meaningless to him. He’d been trying to prove a point.
Eleanor hugged her arms about her waist. A real marriage. With the possibility of children. Someone to carry on after her. She’d not bargained for that. She’d never even considered it. Ever since she was fifteen she’d concentrated on Moles, and now this...the
domestic side of things and all it entailed. It shook her.
She carefully closed the door behind her and glanced up to where her grandfather frowned down at her.
‘I must make a success of it, Grandfather. How hard can it be? To be a viscountess and all that entails? If I can run a company, I can do that. I have to. I’ve given my word.’
Chapter Four
Any task was much simpler when its components were written down. More straightforward, less daunting.
Eleanor surveyed her latest list—the seventeenth she’d penned since she woke. Only half-past eleven and she’d already crossed off five items. Progress at speed.
Sleep had been next to impossible, so she’d worked through the night. She’d gone over Moles’ accounts and made lists and schedules of everything that had to be done in the next few weeks. Her appointment with her solicitor was scheduled for tomorrow. His reply had arrived with the first post.
She’d already sent over an outline of what she wanted, and once she knew it was in hand she’d arrange for the banns to be posted.
Eleanor tapped her pen against the table. Could she trust Algernon to fulfil the duties of his office and read out the banns? Did she even want to be married in his church? The thought of Algernon officiating at her wedding made her nauseous. She put a big question mark beside ‘banns’ and regarded the next item: ‘find a suitable dress’.
‘What do you think you are playing at, Eleanor?’ Algernon said, pushing past Jenkins the butler and coming into the breakfast room. ‘I’m not one of your suppliers who gives you extra time to pay because you sigh and bat your eyelashes. Or one of your competitors who feels sorry for you when the new furnace doesn’t arrive on time. Oh, yes, you needn’t look so surprised. Uncle told me all about how you saved Moles and why. They pitied you, Eleanor.’
Her butler gave her an apologetic look when she raised an eyebrow. The last thing she needed today of all days was an interruption from Algernon.
Why couldn’t he be like normal vicars and be interested in his parishioners, or failing that some esoteric academic study? Why was he coming to plague her—and so early in the day?
One would think he’d have the decency to wait until the afternoon, or better not even to appear without sending a note round. And, from the belligerent set of his jaw, it appeared he intended to stay awhile.
‘Ah, Algernon,’ Eleanor said, forcing her voice to stay calm and pleasant. ‘I see you have inherited my stepfather’s bad habit of twisting history. It had nothing to do with my feminine charm—something that you always accuse me of lacking. It is precisely because I pointed out the financial opportunities to Mr Smith and Mr Oley that Moles flourished and became the company it is today. Moles bought all of Mr Smith’s iron ore until he retired and then we bought his business. We continue to share transport with Mr Oley—only now his swords are shipped with ours, instead of the other way round. It saves costs and benefits everyone. Business, not pity.’
She finished with a brilliant smile.
Algernon opened and closed his mouth several times as he went his special shade of puce. ‘I will take your word for it.’
‘Why are you here, Algernon? I feel certain it is not to go over my various triumphs in business. However, if you insist, I must warn you it will take some considerable time.’
‘Francis Percy, the curate at Broomhaugh, contacted me about your pathetic scheme this morning.’
The back of Eleanor’s neck prickled. Her life needed fewer complications, not more. ‘Who is Francis Percy, and why should he contact you about me? Does he wish to purchase a sword? If so, I would suggest he go through the proper channels. We do have a backlog of work and cannot make exceptions...even for your friends.’
Algernon jabbed his finger at her. ‘There has been a query about posting banns for one Eleanor Blackwell.’
‘Has there?’ Eleanor laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them. It
would appear Ben had wasted no time. She should have thought of holding the wedding at the Broomhaugh church. It would solve a multitude of problems. ‘Fancy that.’
Algernon stuck his nose in the air. ‘Merely posting the banns with some unknown does not mean you will fulfil Uncle’s will. I have instructed Percy to ignore the request.’
‘You have instructed him to ignore the request?’ Eleanor gripped the table and struggled to breathe. Was she going to have to fight everyone for this wedding? ‘Will he do so?’
‘I have every reason to suspect he will. He thought the enquiry a bit unusual, as the man was unknown to him and you don’t live in the parish. He asked for my advice, and I was happy to give it.’
Eleanor’s heart thudded. If Ben had waited she would have had it all organised and done before Algernon started creating complications. ‘Your advice was worthless. Do you know what you have done?’
‘It may surprise you, Eleanor, but I’m held in the highest regard in certain circles. My advice is actively sought. Even the bishop—’ Algernon stopped and tapped the side of his nose. ‘Your ploy is painfully obvious.’
‘Ploy?’ Eleanor stared at him. ‘Why would making an enquiry about posting banns be a ploy? I am attempting to follow your reasoning here, Algernon.’
‘You intend to plead a broken heart,’ he said with a huge sigh. ‘Left at the altar in the last moment and therefore in need of more time. However, I have hardened my heart and I intend to enforce the will to the letter. The very letter. You need to post banns and marry like a good Christian woman—in the church where you intend to worship.’
Eleanor stared at Algernon. Was it just her or did he think that all women lacked intelligence?
‘What happens to members of the clergy who wilfully refuse to post genuine banns? What sort of sanction is sued against them?’
‘That is not the case here.’ He gave an insufferable sigh. ‘I know you went over to that area yesterday. And Percy has indicated that it was a note, rather than an actual face-to-face meeting. He has no knowledge of the intended bridegroom. Neither you nor this phantom bridegroom lives in that parish. Why should banns be posted there?’
Eleanor choked back angry words. Algernon was a duplicitous snake, but becoming angry with him would not solve her problem. Calm. Cool. Collected. Her grandfather had always told to hold her temper. Knowing about a problem was halfway to solving it.
‘It is good to know that you are having me watched and are so busy blackening my name, but it was my intended who made the enquiry, not me,’ she said finally, when she’d mastered her emotions. ‘He currently resides with Sir Vivian at Broomhaugh Hall.’
‘Eleanor, Eleanor, Eleanor... Stop spinning fantasies. Who would marry you?’ Algernon’s lip curled as he examined her up and down. ‘Someone blind and deaf? Feeble-minded?’
Eleanor struggled to keep her voice even. Losing her temper was precisely what he wanted her to do. Years of dealing with her stepfather had taught her that if she lost her temper, he thought he’d won. ‘Lord Whittonstall. You met him yesterday.’
‘You seek to flannel me, sending me off on a wild goose chase.’ He shook his head, tutting. ‘How many times must you be told that gentlemen don’t marry women like you? They require a bride of a different stamp, someone of delicacy and refinement.’
‘Algernon Forecastle! You...you...’ Eleanor drew a deep breath and tried to search for the words that would display the correct amount of contempt for this creature. The man’s arrogance was truly staggering.
Algernon gave a tiny pleased smile. ‘I suspect you are annoyed that your little scheme has been discovered so readily. Next time try something a little less transparent.’
‘I’m annoyed that my highly productive morning has been interrupted for an asinine reason. Go! Get out of my sight!’
‘Very well.’ Algernon rocked back and forth on his heels. ‘I shall go and confront Lord Whittonstall. You are merely using a member of the aristocracy because you think I won’t challenge you if you are pretending to marry someone powerful.’
Eleanor bit the knuckle of her thumb. The easiest thing would be to allow Algernon to confront Ben. However, the last thing she wanted was to seem like some feeble woman, running to Ben every time she hit the slightest hiccup. It would appear as if she could not handle the situation, and she’d spent her entire adult life handling everything.
She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, meeting Algernon’s pig-like expression of overstuffed smugness full on.
‘Lord Whittonstall is very well connected and you are about to insult his choice of life partner. You should consider the consequences of such a move very carefully. I tell this to you as someone who knows you and wishes to stop you from appearing foolish and blighting your career. You know how your uncle used to warn you about that.’
Algernon puffed out his chest. ‘I won’t make an ass of myself. I never do. Uncle was wrong—completely wrong about me. Miss Varney says...’
‘You are giving a pretty good impression of foolishness thus far.’ Eleanor crossed her arms. The man would try the patience of a saint. ‘On second thoughts, why should I want you to stop? Go ahead! Go and see Lord Whittonstall. As I said, he is staying with Sir Vivian Clarence. Ask him. Inform him of what you have done!’
Algernon’s nostrils flared. ‘I am sure he does not realise what you are like. How unnatural you are! You possess nothing of true refinement, Eleanor. You have no charm to entice a man of any standing or wit.’
Eleanor stood up and advanced towards him, shoulders back and head up so that she emphasised their height difference. Once, many years ago, after she had discovered him abusing the downstairs maid, Eleanor had challenged Algernon to a duel, bested him in short order, but only extracted an apology when he had stumbled, trying to run away, and the tip of her sword had pointed at his fat neck. After that he’d left the maids alone...at least in her household.
She reached for one of the swords on the sideboard.
Algernon blanched and took two steps backwards.
‘I will be getting married,’ she said between clenched teeth. ‘You are not going to sabotage this wedding. Is that understood?’
‘I wish to save you from folly and embarrassment.’ He raised his hands. ‘You are so used to being shocking, Eleanor, that you fail to realise what you are doing. For that reason I forgive you. No harm is done as your scheme has been discovered and is at an end. We part as friends.’
Eleanor stared at Algernon in astonishment.
‘You are very pompous, Algernon,’ she said, gesturing with the sword for emphasis.
‘Lord Whittonstall would never marry someone like you.’ Algernon scrambled to put a dining chair between them. ‘Ever.’
‘I heard raised voices. Are you in trouble, Eleanor?’ Ben appeared behind Jenkins. His shoulders seemed almost too broad for his frock coat and his tan breeches followed the contours of his thighs perfectly. Her pulse leapt.
Relief quickly followed by horror flooded through her. Ben had discovered her chasing Algernon around the room with a sword. Did Algernon’s words have a ring of truth? Was she truly so shocking and lacking in refinement?
Hastily she retraced her steps and returned the sword to its normal place. Why had he appeared at that moment? Why not earlier?
‘You should be careful, Reverend Forecastle. My
fiancée has a way with swords.’
‘You mean it is true? The rumour?’ Algernon squeaked.
‘Very true,’ Ben replied. He wandered over and picked up the sword, balancing it on his hand before making an experimental flourish with it. ‘Well-balanced but flexible. A prototype, Eleanor? The hilt is a bit old-fashioned, though.’
‘My great-grandfather’s. He used a special formula of steel which has been lost. It normally rests there to remind me of the
possibilities and all that I have still to achieve. It never gets used.’
‘Ah, I see. Pity.’ He set the sword back down on the table. ‘And what did the Reverend Forecastle do to deserve being chased with the sword? Is it something I can assist you with?’
Eleanor’s heart beat faster and the heat on her cheeks grew. It was wrong of her to be pleased that he was here and taking care of the Algernon problem. She had wondered when they would see each other...
She’d even made a list of possible reasons why he would stay away—a list that peeked out from under the others. Eleanor hurriedly straightened her papers. All the while her heart kept singing—Ben was here, living proof that she would be getting married. She wasn’t alone any more. It made things easier, but she had no desire to become dependent on him. And it certainly didn’t mean that she wanted to give up fighting her own battles. It just made victory that much sweeter.
‘Algernon has heard about our impending nuptials.’ Eleanor hated the way her voice sounded breathless. She swallowed hard and tried again. ‘Apparently enquiries have been made at Broomhaugh parish which he believes are a harum-scarum attempt to circumvent my stepfather’s will.’
‘I thought it best.’ Ben inclined his head and his eyes burnt fiercely. ‘Churches are notoriously difficult to book. My cousin Isabella had dreadful trouble a few years back. To my mother’s annoyance she ended being married in Hampstead rather than in St James’s.’
‘You m-m-made the enquiry?’ Algernon tugged at his stock.
‘I wish to marry Eleanor as soon as possible.’ Ben lifted an eyebrow. ‘Miss Blackwell is far too rare a prize to allow to slip through my fingers through tardiness on my behalf.’
Algernon shrank under the ferocity of that gaze. Eleanor fought against the temptation to punch the air in triumph, clasping her hands behind her back and attempting to keep a bland expression.
‘I believe there might be some parishioners who wish to see me. Urgently.’ Algernon slithered towards
the door.
‘It surprises me that Broomhaugh’s vicar should be so indiscreet.’ Ben’s voice became glacial, stopping
His Unsuitable Viscountess Page 6
