Baron

by Joanna Shupe

  After he dressed, he checked his face in the mirror. A two-day growth of unkempt whiskers covered his jaw. He winced. No help for it now, he thought as he ran a comb through his unruly hair.

  “Calvin? Where are you going?”

  He spun at the sound of his wife’s husky, sleep-roughened voice. She levered up on an elbow and pushed her hair to one side. “Your father is here.”

  “Daddy’s here?” She sat up, the sheet dropping from her body and revealing the most luscious breasts he’d ever set eyes on. His fingers itched to touch them, to pluck her nipples and feel them harden. No, no time for that now.

  “He’s downstairs.” Calvin reached for his frock coat and tugged it on. It was his best coat, a dark blue wool one he’d purchased only last year. He brushed dirt off the sleeves and fixed his cuffs.

  “How did he find out where we were?” On her feet now, Lily scrambled for her clothing. He noticed her hands were shaking as she fumbled with her chemise. “He’s supposed to be visiting the mine.”

  “I haven’t a clue. I figure we’ll soon find out.” He strode over and grasped her shoulders, stopping her frantic movements. “Darling, wait.” She straightened and stared at him, eyes wide with panic. He kissed her nose. “We’ll be fine. He will understand, I promise.”

  She swallowed but nodded. “Of course. You’re right. I should come down with you, though.”

  “No, that’s not necessary. I’ll head down first. Take your time getting yourself ready. There’s no rush.”

  “I will.” Her fingers gripped his lapels. “Calvin, I love you.”

  He smiled at her, sliding his hands down to palm both her breasts. “And I you. Hurry, before he decides to storm the room.”

  He left Lily to dress and went into the hall. As he headed downstairs, he reminded himself of all the reasons Warren Davies should approve of him as Lily’s husband. Like Davies, Calvin had grown up in poverty but was making his own way in the world. He was gainfully employed, had all his limbs. Even had all his teeth. He would never mistreat or harm Lily. Most of all, he loved her with all his heart. What father wouldn’t want his daughter to be happy and well loved?

  Hugo waited at the bottom of the stairs, a scowl on his dark face. “He’s in the front parlor,” Hugo said. “And he does not appear pleased. Two men are sittin’ outside in his carriage, one’s at the parlor door.”

  That information did not bode well. Why had Davies brought an army with him? “Thank you. Lily will be down in a few moments. Will you see her shown in?”

  “Yes, sir. And good luck.”

  A large man guarded the parlor. At Calvin’s approach, the man opened the door and quickly shut it after Calvin passed through. Once his eyes adjusted to the afternoon light, Calvin found a stocky, well-dressed man at the front window. Warren Davies.

  Davies came forward, and Calvin saw the resemblance to his daughter right away. The same whiskey-colored eyes, light brown with flecks of gold, and a similar stubborn jaw. Davies had short gray hair and a long mustache, one you might see on a cowboy out in the Dakotas. His expression held no warmth, however, and foreboding settled into Calvin’s bones.

  “You are Calvin Cabot?”

  “Indeed, I am, Mr. Davies.” He extended a hand in greeting, which Davies made no effort to accept. After a beat, Calvin dropped his arm and said, “I know this may come as a surprise, sir—”

  “A surprise?” Davies sneered. “Boy, a surprise is coming home to find your cook’s baked your favorite dessert. A surprise is when you run into an acquaintance on the street. A surprise is having a good day on the exchange. This is no surprise. Finding out this”—he gestured at Calvin—“piece of shit has gone and married your only daughter is a goddamned catastrophe.”

  Calvin’s skin went up in flames, anger rising in his veins like a flood. Stay calm, he told himself. Nothing good would happen if he lost his temper. He had to appease the older man, explain how he felt about Lily. “I know I seem an unlikely choice, but I love her. I will—”

  “I don’t care how you feel about her. Christ, marriage is not built on feelings, boy. It’s about legacy and position. She’s just had her come-out, and I had plans for her. Not one of those plans included a two-bit muckraker from a newspaper no one’s ever heard of.”

  The jab drove deep, and Calvin crossed his arms over his chest to keep from punching Davies in the jaw. Yes, he worked as a reporter for the Bugle, but he had ambition. He wouldn’t always be a two-bit muckraker. Davies, it seemed, didn’t care about any of that. He only cared about Calvin’s suitability as Lily’s husband now.

  “Why are you here?” he asked bluntly.

  Davies’s mouth hitched. “Now we get to the point. I have annulment papers for you to sign.”

  “I’m not signing any fucking annulment papers,” he snapped, civility swiftly evaporating. If Davies wanted a fight, Calvin would more than gladly provide him one. “No matter what you say, I won’t give her up.”

  “How much?” Pushing the sides of his coat back, Davies thrust his hands in his pockets. “How much do you want?”

  “I don’t want your money. You don’t have enough to force me to leave her.”

  Davies threw his head back and laughed. “You know precisely what I’m worth. I’ve no doubt you researched me long and hard before approaching Lily. Before filling her head with your lies.”

  Calvin clenched his teeth so hard he feared his jaw might snap. “I have never lied to your daughter. And I did not approach her because she’s your daughter. I had no idea who she was when—”

  “Save your breath, son. I don’t have the time or the patience for bullshit. When I tell you what I’ve learned about you, I think you’ll change your mind about those annulment papers.”

  Mind racing, Calvin tried to think on what secrets from his past Davies could have unearthed . . . but nothing leapt out at him. He hadn’t led the life of a monk, yet he hadn’t committed any serious crimes. “Is that so?”

  Davies lowered into an armchair and placed his elbows on the rests. “I have two pieces of information you need to hear. The first is, though I love my daughter, I will cut her off without a penny if she stays married to you. The two of you won’t get one dollar from me or my estate. I’ll write her completely out of my will.”

  Calvin frowned, his heart sinking. When they eloped, he hadn’t thought far enough ahead to worry about finances. Hell, he’d been raised with nothing and survived, but Lily loved the life of a rich society girl with their wild parties, lavish dinners, and expensive toys. And while he absolutely had not married her because of her family’s money, he also hadn’t considered that such a lifestyle would be taken away from her. She’d be reduced to . . . lean cuts of meat instead of foie gras. Lager instead of champagne. Mending her dresses instead of buying new ones. Forget fancy balls and social engagements; she might need to find work as a secretary or a shopgirl.

  But how could he possibly walk away from her? Perhaps her father was bluff ing. After all, Lily claimed Davies doted on her. Surely her father wouldn’t—

  “I can see you don’t quite believe me,” Davies said. “So let me tell you the second item. It’s about your wife, the one back in China.”