Mr. Huntington nodded, and somehow his previously clouded eyes seemed even clearer. “What you say is true. The deals we have completed in the past have been mutually beneficial, something Ashbury will soon realize. Or perhaps he already does?”
Johnathan shook his head. How had Gregory Ashbury’s name come into the conversation? However, he was not given the opportunity to ask.
“As I stated previously,” Mr. Huntington said, “Lord Ashbury has asked to court Emily, my younger daughter.”
Confusion draped over Johnathan. Why did this man, and his wife for that matter, insist on telling him of Ashbury’s interest in their daughter? His earlier senses sharpened even more, for the man before him rarely spoke of his personal life or his family with Johnathan.
Johnathan’s confusion must have been evident on his face, for Mr. Huntington continued before Johnathan had a chance to respond. “It seems that Ashbury also has an interest in procuring heavy fabrics and has offered me a much better deal than the one on which we agreed.”
Johnathan sat stunned in his chair. The man was cunning, that much was certain. However, he was a shrewd businessman, and he would not give up that easily. “Well, then, it is good that we had already agreed to do business. Now, about my…”
Mr. Huntington cut him off with the raise of a single finger. “We can work out the finer details later,” he said as he swished the drink in his hand, “but here is what I am offering you.”
Perhaps paying premium prices would be better than dealing with the pompous ass who sat before Johnathan. How dare he lift a finger to silence an earl? Johnathan was a frugal businessman and Shetfield Estates proved it with its lavish gardens and grand house, but even he had to admit that the amount of money he could save in a business arrangement with this man could be well worth it in the long run. He was not strapped for cash, per se; however, if he conducted his business on whether or not he could work with a man, he would be destitute in no time.
So, rather than giving in to the desire to simply get up and walk out, Johnathan sat back in his chair and crossed his foot over his leg. At least he could make a pretense of the man not making him livid.
“All of my connections are yours,” Mr. Huntington continued as he stared at his drink. “That includes what I can produce from Edinburgh as well as Pembroke.” He glanced up at Johnathan, the corner of his mouth lifting just a bit. “You were not aware I also have arrangements in those two cities, am I correct?”
It was true Johnathan was unaware of how far the man’s reach went. However, he was not going to give the man the opportunity to flaunt this. “But of course. Why do you think I came to you?” He somehow managed to suppress a smile at the look of shock the man clearly was unable to hide. Mr. Huntington had given him exactly what he had come for. However, he had hoped the man would include several retail properties in the deal. “And the London holdings?”
“No, those holdings I will keep for myself. I must feed my family somehow.” He added a boisterous laugh and Johnathan smiled at the man’s attempt at humor, as feeble as it was. The London properties would have been a bonus, but they were not a necessary addition to their agreement. By bringing up the properties, however, Johnathan gave the pretense of give and take that made business agreements seem even better than they actually were.
“Very well,” Johnathan replied. “I believe we can come to a reasonable, and quite profitable, agreement.”
Mr. Huntington’s smile was calculating. “Now, there is one small thing you can provide me,” he said.
The alarm bells went off in Johnathan’s head. Just as he had suspected, the man was up to something. “I do not understand. Your fortune, your reach, in the area of textiles is far greater than my own. Whatever could you possibly need from me?” Admitting such a thing to a man such as Mr. Dudley Huntington was not something Johnathan cared to do, but it allowed him the opportunity to stay in the man’s good graces. Despite what he felt, the man had too much to offer him. “Whatever it is you need, I’m certain it can be done.” He groaned inwardly as soon as the words left his mouth. He had only taken a sip of his brandy and he conducted business as if he had drunk the entire bottle.
He probably wants me to whisper in the King’s ear for a title, he thought. The man was mad if he thought he would do such a thing.
Mr. Huntington let out a laugh, his hand slapping the arm of his chair. “Oh, Blackmoore, you should know better than to make such a pledge before hearing the terms,” he said as he theatrically wiped at his eye. “However, I will not hold you to it.” His amused smile never left his lips and Johnathan came close to asking the man outside so he could remove it for him. How dare he humiliate him so?
However, the man had him pinned against the wall. Johnathan thought his heart would beat out of his chest and it took every muscle in his body to keep his composure. “You are a smart man, Huntington, as always.” He tried to keep his tone light in an attempt to hide his nervousness that was mixed with a bit of rage. “So, what is this ‘small thing’ I can provide?”
“Blackmoore, I need grandchildren.”
“I beg your pardon?” Johnathan asked in confusion, completely taken aback. Perhaps he should reconsider and take the chance of paying triple the price for what he needed. The man was most certainly lacking in senses.
“I need grandchildren,” he repeated, “and you need an heir. You see, my elder daughter, Alice, needs a husband. She has refused any attempt her mother or I have made in procuring one for her, and she certainly has not made any attempts to rectify the problem herself.”
Johnathan sank back in his chair. His mind went back to the brief encounter with the red-haired woman who fit the part of spinster in so many ways. He recognized that she probably was a beautiful woman and he would not mind bedding her—she was a woman after all, but he certainly had no interest in marrying her.
“The way I see it is thus: You have yet to truly convince me that you are the right man for this business venture, and before I make this deal with you, I must get something substantial in return.”
Johnathan’s mind raced as he attempted to work the problem out in his head. When he glanced up, the proud smile Mr. Huntington had on his face made Johnathan cringe. The man had outwitted him. Not only had Johnathan admitted to the man how important their agreement was to him, he had been foolish enough to agree to something he had yet to hear, even if Mr. Huntington would not hold him to that pledge.
“So, what you are saying is that I must marry your daughter.”
“Indeed. However, there is a condition.”
Johnathan sighed. “But of course.”
Mr. Huntington chuckled. “You must convince my daughter to marry you. This cannot be seen as a business arrangement; she is much too intelligent to agree to that.” His fingers tapped at the desk. “Alice is dear to me, perhaps it is because she is my first born, or maybe it is because without her eyeglasses she would walk into walls. Nevertheless, if I am going to leave half my fortune to her husband, I want her to at least be happy.” He scrunched his brow as if approving his own words and leaned forward. “Let us call this a trial. I would like to see your ability to negotiate—an important quality to have in any business. I have had to break my back to get to where I am today, unlike one such as yourself who inherited your fortune. I mean no disrespect, but you know what I say is true. I have what you need, and I have many ways to make my money. I realize the challenge I place before you, so I will give you eight weeks to complete this task. If you are able to win over my daughter, then you will have your agreement. However, if you are unable to do so, we will have to adjust the terms or part ways altogether.”
At that moment, everything fell into place at once: Mrs. Huntington’s earlier comments, followed by her husband’s on the same subject—the courting of Miss Emily Huntington. Their excitement for a possible union between the girl and Lord Ashbury. Now their concerns for their elder daughter had become amplified in comparison. It was true that Johnathan was in
need of an heir; the weight of the situation would sit on the shoulders of any man of his ranking greatly, so the fact Mr. Huntington knew of this need was not surprising. The man’s daughter was homely enough, though a bit bookish for him. However, if his only interaction with her was on the physical level to simply give him an heir, and the marriage also solidified this business arrangement, then perhaps he could agree to it. It was not as if he could marry a farmhand or sire a bastard son who could eventually take over his title. For all he knew, he had more than one already. No, this could be a favorable agreement for them both.
Now all he had to do was convince a spinster to marry him. How difficult could that be?
Chapter Three
The last of the guests left by late morning and Alice felt relief as she turned to go back inside after standing at the front of the house with her parents and Emily to see off Lady Sherwood. Luckily the woman had not had the chance to share in one of her lengthy tales; Alice was most certainly not in the mood. Her head ached due to reoccurring thoughts and dreams of a dark-haired man with cold brown eyes peering down at her from some great height, as if she were some sort of tiny insect and he a spider.
“Alice, meet me in the drawing room, please,” Mrs. Huntington said in a voice that brooked no argument.
Alice sighed. What could her mother want now? She was much too exhausted to listen to her excitement about the possibility of Emily’s upcoming marriage. Then again, the woman’s voice did not sound excited but rather like the times she had plans to give Alice a tongue-lashing. What she could possibly have done this time, she had no idea. Perhaps it had something to do with her actions the previous night. Between bumping into the tray of beverages and stepping on Lord Blackmoore’s foot, she had to look the bumbling fool. Alice, however, thought her performance had just the right touch of clumsiness without overdoing it. What better way to keep the eligible men away?
Once inside, she followed her parents into the drawing room. It was not lost on her that her sister was not present. Not that she envied Emily, for they got along handsomely, but she was the favored child, something that Alice had orchestrated through her own actions. Not by choice, but by need.
She made her way to one of the sofas and brushed a bit of dust from her gray dress. Although it was not one of her newer gowns, it was one of her favorites, and as severe and matronly as every other that hung in her wardrobe. Convincing Emily to wear a more revealing dress had its purposes, just as the high-necked gown she wore now had its purpose. Whatever she could do to keep away any prospective husbands was exactly what she wanted.
Mrs. Huntington took a seat across from Alice, which was a sign that what she had to say was not going to please Alice. When Mr. Huntington sat next to his wife, Alice knew for certain whatever they wished to discuss would be quite unpleasant indeed.
“Now, Alice,” Mrs. Huntington said in a firm voice, “we have been more than accommodating for the choices you make in your life.”
Alice groaned inwardly. They had this talk at least once a month, and she had grown tired of them long ago. However, she had to concede that what her mother said was true, they had been more than accommodating, though they tended to harp on it more often than was necessary. “Yes, Mother, and I am appreciative of that.”
“Be that as it may, we realize how our complacency in allowing you not to marry could have affected your sister’s ability to marry.”
Alice’s jaw dropped. “How so? Is Lord Ashbury not interested in courting her?”
Mr. Huntington moved to the edge of the seat with a scowl. “That is not the point here.” He sounded angry, and Alice wondered what had set him off. “The point is that it could have hindered her. Too often, people look at one sister and believe the same for the other.”
Alice waved her hand as if the swat away his words. “Oh, rubbish. How often do you see two spinsters in the same family?” The idea was so ludicrous, she actually laughed aloud.
However, she soon regretted the words, for her flippant attitude sent her father into a rage. “This is not a game, Alice! Not only has your choice to refuse anyone who has come courting been shameful to both myself and your mother, your inability to move about a room as a lady has only magnified it. What, pray tell, did they teach you at that finishing school? It certainly was not how to walk through a room with grace and elegance. At times you are more a bumbling oaf than a lady of wealth!” Her father was yelling by the time he finished, and Mrs. Huntington had to lay a hand on his arm to make him sit back down, for he had risen to his feet at the same rate his voice had risen in volume.
Anger as hot as lava boiled in Alice. She somehow tempered it and forced tears to her eyes. Anger had never gotten her anywhere with her parents, but tears always seemed to work. “But, father, I do not want to be this way!” she cried. “I cannot help when one of the footmen get too close to me at the same time I turn around. Nor can I help walking into things when I am asked to remove my eyeglasses.” She turned a glare at her mother, who looked down at the floor. “I do the best I can. I wish you could see that.” She sobbed into her hands as she peeked through her fingers.
Her parents glanced at each other. Her mother bit at her lip and her father sighed.
“This immaturity needs to stop,” Mr. Huntington said, though his voice was much softer than it had been previously. “You are an adult now, and you are acting like a child.”
Alice sighed. He was right. She was an adult now, and her childish antics would not get her what she wanted. Instead, she needed to figure out another way to convince her parents that the best thing for her was to remain a spinster. But how?
“I am sorry,” she said with a sniffle. “You are right. I do act like a child. I promise I will do my best to act the adult I am and to be more watchful of my actions.”
“Good,” her father replied. “I am glad you have come to your senses. You have received better instruction from us. Plus, you are much too intelligent to act so immaturely.”
“Yes, you are correct, Father,” she agreed once again. “Thank you.” She knew he was right; she was too intelligent. As a matter of fact, she was intelligent enough to come up with another plan to remain unwed.
***
The stables were a favorite place to go when Alice needed a moment to think. Although the garden was beautiful, it was also too open to prying eyes, and she needed to be somewhere private to focus on her problems and not on whether or not someone might be watching her. It was not a matter of whether or not she thought anyone could simply look at her and know what she was thinking, but rather that she could not help but wonder if perhaps it were possible. Plus, she tended to talk aloud as she thought, thus the chance someone was to overhear her was too great a possibility.
With most of the guests gone, the stables were now nearly empty, minus its residents, of course. Her father had a team of horses, four in total, for when they journeyed in the family carriage. Each member of the family also had his or her own horse to ride, though Alice preferred to walk or take a carriage. Not that she left Glassberry Manor often. If it wasn’t the rain keeping her trapped inside the confines of the house, then her parents and their unwillingness to supply her with a companion was another.
“If you refuse to marry,” her father had said when she asked about having a companion, “then I will not allow you the benefit of a companion.”
“You do realize that by marrying, you then have a companion,” her mother had said, “and that man can accompany you to wherever it is you would like to go.”
Why she would need a companion in the first place was what Alice found ridiculous. She was a grown woman, and now that she had reached the age of spinsterhood, she should have been able to be out on her own whenever she pleased. That was how she felt at any rate, and she had voiced that opinion on more than one occasion. Society, of course, dictated otherwise. Marriage was sought after and expected for all women, and those who chose not to marry were not true women. If a spinster was not a woman, then A
lice had no idea what she was.
Alice walked up to the familiar beam in the far back corner where an old bench sat. She ran her hand along the wood lightly. Tears came to her eyes as the familiar images flickered in her mind of a day long ago when she had first met Thomas.
Thomas had only been in the employ with the Huntington family a few months when Alice came upon him shoeing one of the horses. She had watched him as he completed his task and found herself staring at his muscled arms as he held the animal’s leg in place. Although his physique showed great strength, his stance in dealing with the horse was soft and caring. The combination of the two was highly intoxicating, and Alice could not take her eyes off him.
As she watched in wonderment at the young stable boy, a horse whinnied beside Alice and Thomas looked over his shoulder and glanced her way. His blond hair covered his face, and as he still held the horse’s leg, he blew at the hair so it billowed out before him.
For whatever reason, Alice laughed, which in turn caused Thomas to laugh. He then released the animal’s leg, turned, and proceeded to trip over the small stool that sat behind him. This brought Alice to a fit of giggles, and Thomas’s face reddened so much she wondered if he would end up in some sort of fit.
“Miss,” he said as he bowed deeply to her, “I did not see you there.”
“No, I could not imagine how you could have unless you somehow have the ability to see behind you.”
The memory of the grin that followed made her heart skip a beat, even today as she stood just inside the doorway. A single tear ran down her cheek as the memories flooded her mind. How she missed him.
“Thomas, every day I wish you would come riding back into my life,” she said to the empty air before her. Then she repeated the last words she had ever spoken to him, “I await your return.”
The Spinsters Secret Page 3
