The Inconvenient Elmswood Marriage (Penniless Brides 0f Convenience Book 4)

by Marguerite Kaye

  The rails manufactured in the new foundry could be sold to other railroads to offset the cost of the Baltimore Southern’s investment, but stronger, faster engines were the real key to railroad’s future. Silas wished there were better American models to be had, but his adopted country had yet to produce a winning design. In time he was sure they would, but at present he needed the rights to the British one.

  ‘That engine will take the Baltimore Southern to new heights and success.’ Richard inhaled, the air rattling through his chest. ‘But sooner than any of us would like, you’ll have to win over investors without me.’

  ‘You aren’t thinking of retiring, are you?’ Richard lived for his work.

  ‘I’m dying, Silas.’

  The same tightening of his stomach that’d almost made him retch ten years ago when his mother had stepped out of his father’s sickroom to hand Silas his father’s signet ring hovered about him like the heat from the fire. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I consulted a number of medical men while I was in Philadelphia, the best in the country. They confirmed what I’ve suspect for some time.’

  ‘That can’t be.’ Silas hadn’t missed the coughing or the gradual thinning of Richard’s body over the last year, but he’d ignored it and everything it meant, hoping it wasn’t true, willing it to not be true. ‘There must be some treatment here or in Europe. They’re more advanced there than most of the quacks here who still think bleeding is the cure for everything.’

  ‘No, Silas, you and I can struggle and strive against a great many things, but not this.’ Richard sank into his chair, his slender body almost engulfed by the rich leather. ‘I only regret that I won’t be able to see the transcontinental railroad you envision. You’re a dreamer, with a knack for making them come true, and I’m proud of you for it and for everything you’ve done since you first showed up on my doorstep with a letter of introduction from Jasper King and little more than a worn suit and a couple of British pounds. I took a chance that you were worthy of Jasper’s trust and mine, and you’ve proven me right at every turn. You’ve gone from someone with nothing to part-owner of a railroad with a tidy income of your own that will only grow a great deal larger after tonight.’

  ‘Don’t curse us. All we have are their promises. We don’t have their money yet or the tracks laid or the patent to the English steam engine.’ Silas took a deep pull of brandy. Apparently, they didn’t have a future together in the venture either. No, many people lived with consumption for years, there was no reason to think Richard couldn’t, too.

  ‘I don’t mean the railroad. I have no children, no wife, my life spent married to my business and increasing my fortune. There are days when I think that was a mistake, until I see you.’ He reached over and laid a fatherly hand on Silas’s arm. ‘You’re like a son to me, Silas, I don’t want to see the same loneliness befall you.’

  ‘It won’t. In time, I’ll marry.’ Matrimony was not uppermost in his mind tonight, or any other night as of late.

  ‘I also don’t want to have what I’ve built up fall to pieces. I’m leaving you not only my share of the railway, but almost all of my estate.’

  ‘I don’t want it.’

  Or deserve it.

  He didn’t wish to make his fortune by inheriting it from his mentor.

  ‘I still insist you have it, at least everything I’m not leaving to Lady Mary. She’ll get the house and a tidy financial settlement. It would mean the world to me if you’d look after her when I’m gone. She may not be related to me by blood, but she did a great deal for my sister in her last years and she’s brought me immense comfort over these past three months. I want to leave her with a secure future so she never has to want or worry about anything.’

  ‘Of course I’ll make sure she and her investments are well protected.’ Silas watched the flames in the grate leap and fall as they consumed the log. He understood the importance of protecting those he cared about. The cheques he regularly sent home to England supported his mother and sisters so that the donations to the Fairclough Foundation could continue to help the women in need. He threw back the rest of the brandy, the sting to his throat making his eyes water. Yes, he took care of his family with money, but little else. What else could they expect of him? He’d never wanted to be part of the Foundation, and if he hadn’t come here to work with Richard there wouldn’t be money to send home. It was the same circular thinking that plagued him every time he thought about how far away he was from his loved ones. He refilled his empty glass. Tonight, he had no patience for those old regrets.

  ‘But of course, money isn’t everything,’ Richard mused.

  ‘No, it isn’t.’ Silas set his drink on the table, all too familiar with that tone. The promise of a business proposal crackled in the air like the sap from the logs in the fire. What the devil could his friend be about to propose at a time like this?

  ‘There are other, less tangible things to consider, such as standing, influence, a gentleman giving off the right sort of air when negotiating business or society, as you witnessed tonight.’

  ‘I don’t exactly smell of the fish market.’

  ‘But you need that little something extra to raise everyone’s opinion of you even higher.’

  ‘Is it that low?’ Silas laughed. He occasionally enjoyed a good game of cards at the clubs or a few other carnal pleasures when the need arose, but he’d never been in debt, got drunk or landed a woman, respectable or not, in any difficulty. He’d seen what’d happened to those unfortunate women enough times growing up at the Fairclough Foundation to ensure no woman suffered because of his attention or her situation in life. ‘Given the way the mothers throw their daughters at me at the balls, I thought I was rather admired by Baltimore society.’

  ‘In every endeavour there is always room for improvement.’ Richard opened the small humidor on the table beside him and held it out to Silas. Silas selected a cigar from the box. He didn’t smoke often, but something in Richard’s manner told him this occasion called for it or a stiffer drink. Richard took a cigar from the humidor and set the box back on the table. He withdrew the silver clipper on the chain from his waistcoat pocket, snipped off the end and set it between his lips. He leaned forward, accepting a light from Silas who held out a small stick from the fire. Richard inhaled deeply as he sat back before taking the cigar out of his mouth and exhaling with a wincing cough that saddened Silas. ‘You need the kind of improved opinion that an impressive and respectable marriage confers on a man.’

  Silas choked on the smoke and the unexpected suggestion. ‘The kind of respectability you never sought for yourself.’

  ‘I almost did once, many years ago when I lived in Mobile. I was in the cotton business back then and on my way to making my first real fortune. We were in love, but yellow fever stole her from me. I never found another like her after that.’

  It was the first time Silas had ever heard Richard speak with such affection about a woman who wasn’t his now-departed sister in England. It tightened his chest to realise Richard might be reunited with both women far too soon. ‘Then what’s turned your thoughts to matrimony?’

  ‘Your future and Lady Mary’s.’ He wheezed as he exhaled smoke. ‘A well-settled woman isn’t a single one at the mercy of every fortune hunter in the States, but a married one with a home and family, one who can successfully host dinners and help further your interests because they are her own.’

  Silas took a deep drag off the cigar. He’d never in all their time together ever questioned Richard’s reasoning for anything. He hated to make an exception this far into the game. ‘I give you my word that I’ll make sure she’s well protected from fortune hunters and that she contracts a good marriage.’

  Richard threw back his head and laughed, the cheerful sound weighted down by the rattle marring it. ‘Shame on me for not being more direct.’

  ‘You’re being very dire
ct.’ A little bit too much for Silas’s liking. He’d always imagined himself settling down some day, but not quite this soon and not with a near stranger. Lady Mary was a pleasant enough woman, but he knew almost nothing about her. He wasn’t one to pry into other people’s affairs, at least those not connected to business that could benefit him in negotiations. ‘But the lady and I aren’t well acquainted.’

  ‘Not a difficult problem to rectify.’

  ‘She may not be amenable to the idea.’

  ‘Again, not an insurmountable obstacle.’ Richard leaned towards Silas, the firelight highlighted the growing gauntness in his face. Richard was very sick, there was no denying it or what it meant. Once again Silas would be left alone in the world to make his way through it. He might not be the fifteen-year-old boy who’d taken on the responsibilities of a man far too soon, but it was difficult to hold that old apprehension at bay. ‘This isn’t merely a matter of the heart, Silas, but a very practical union that could benefit you both. I know I haven’t told you a great deal about Lady Mary so I’ll tell you what I can. She’s the Earl of Ashford’s daughter.’

  That was nothing to scoff at and plenty of reasons to wonder. ‘Then what’s she doing here? Why isn’t she in London where her mother can marry her off?’

  Richard rolled his cigar between his fingers. ‘That’s something you’ll have to hear from the lady herself.’

  Silas was certain he didn’t need to ask. There was only one reason a man as high up the social scale as an earl would cast out a daughter. Silas had never met any woman so high, but he’d met plenty of other young women from good families at the Foundation. The details were different, but the story was always the same—a man, a lapse of judgement and a very distinct alteration of their future, fortunes and standing. Silas had never held it against them. His parents hadn’t raised him with such prejudices. Besides, having made more than a few of his own mistakes, he could understand theirs and that the men were as much to blame as the women for what had happened. ‘But what’s the benefit of her over, say, Mr Penniman’s daughter?’

  ‘One—’ Richard held up a single finger ‘—never mix business with pleasure. Better to keep someone like Mr Penniman as an investor rather than a father-in-law. He’ll have less say in your affairs and it won’t be awkward if things turn sour. Two—’ he held up another finger ‘—her standing as a genuine lady. Americans already think any man who sounds like you is an aristocrat. If you have a wife on your arm and at the head of your table who actually is one, it’ll raise you even higher in their esteem. America is full of younger sons of the nobility trying to make a fortune, but an available young woman with Lady Mary’s lineage is a rare find. The two of you could really make something of yourselves.’

  ‘We’d make another commoner, like me, the son of an earl’s fourth son who preferred humanitarianism to hunting. I’ve never even met the Lord my grandfather, who probably doesn’t know I exist.’ A fact his father and mother’s passion for philanthropy had reminded him of daily while he was growing up. Silas took a sip of the fine brandy, savouring the sharp flavour. Bless his parents for their altruism. It wasn’t the way he wished to live.

  ‘But you know he exists. I’ve heard you drop his name during more than one conversation when it’s to your benefit to do so.’

  Silas shrugged. ‘A man uses what slender means he has available and I assure you mine are very slender.’

  ‘With Lady Mary by your side your means will widen considerably. You could affix her family crest to your carriage or have a combination of hers and yours created. Imagine how that would look at the top of your letter head or on calling cards. You could even incorporate it into the Baltimore Southern’s insignia, give the railway a touch of English class to really impress merchants and passengers,’ Richard suggested, the way he did whenever he thought aloud about how to approach investors for a new venture. It was the idea one had to sell, not the business. Never that. It was too ordinary and boring for a man to really picture, but an idea, slightly exaggerated in its aspects but never lied about, something an investor could hold in his mind when he held the stock certificate, that was something else. It was Richard’s gift, one that Silas had worked hard to cultivate over the last five years. He never imagined it being used on him to propose a match as if Richard were some kind of hovering mother at a ball.

  Silas took another drag off his cigar, turning the smoke into rings as he carefully exhaled. ‘Even if I was for it, what would the lord and lady think of this match?’

  ‘They gave up the right to approve or disapprove of her decisions some time ago,’ Richard spat, then took a calming puff off his cigar. ‘Besides, they aren’t here to look down their regal noses at you, now are they? Nor are they likely to leave their hallowed estate and venture across the Atlantic to make a stink about it.’

  ‘No, they aren’t.’ Silas inhaled the weedy smoke of his cigar while he thought over Richard’s proposal as he’d considered every other business decision Richard had ever placed in front of him. Silas wasn’t ready to invest in Lady Mary yet but the benefits of the match, like those of a foundry for the Baltimore Southern, were compelling enough to be considered.

  * * *

  An interesting idea, Mary mused silently while she stood in the shadows outside the study, listening to the men. This wasn’t the first time she’d hovered out of sight in the darkness while others discussed her future. It was becoming quite the regular habit where her life was concerned. At least this time the proposed plan was kindly meant and to her benefit because Richard genuinely cared about her. It was more than her parents could ever have said about their actions. Their love of reputation and standing had been more valuable to them than their daughter.

  She touched the small watch hanging from a ribbon on her dress bodice, a gift from Ruth, Richard’s sister, during Mary’s first Christmas with her. She ran her fingers over the fine filigree, feeling the few strands of the fraying ribbon on which it hung. The watch was one of the many kindnesses Ruth had shown her during the years that Mary had spent with her. She missed Ruth, but she was ashamed to say she didn’t miss the isolation of the country.

  Quiet spread over the room, broken by the pop and crackle of the fire and Richard’s occasional cough, one that cut through Mary as sharply as his sister’s final illness had. Richard knew Mary’s secret and, like his sister, he’d given her a chance to reclaim some of the life and future that Preston Graham had stolen from her. It was everything she’d sought when she’d staggered off the ship still green with seasickness and breathed in the salty Baltimore air tinged with smoke. All the training to be a lady and chatelaine of a large house that her mother had drilled into her as a child—how to host a table, draw up menus, guide conversation, the skills she should have used as the wife of a titled man—was finally being put to use in Richard’s house. She’d been awkward and reserved, hesitant and unsure when Richard had initially encouraged her to meet with the housekeeper about dinner or sit at the head of his table. Tonight, it’d all come back to her as the food had been well received and served, and the conversation had run smooth enough to ease Richard and Mr Fairclough’s negotiations. She’d left the dining room with a new confidence and for the first time in many years the belief that her future would finally shake free of her past.

  Death was threatening to steal it away from her for the second time. What would she do without Richard to guide her through Baltimore society? She’d be left on her own once again to make her way in a world that was even more foreign to her than the wilds of Devon and an aged spinster’s humble but welcoming cottage.

  Mr Fairclough’s deep voice, his accent a touch less refined than her father and brother’s, but far from the roughness of the London streets or fields, cut through the quiet with some matter of business. The tone of his voice held her interest, the notes of it deep and sure the way Preston’s had been during those darks nights in the stable or his carriage, until
it’d turned callous and cold like the road to Gretna Green.

  Mary slipped away from the door and through the narrow entrance hall of the brick row house with its marble floors and tall ceilings, and up the polished wood staircase to her room. She sat at her dressing table, leaving the bell to summon Mrs Parker, her lady’s maid, untouched. Despite having grown up with a nurse to feed and care for her, a governess to teach her and, when she’d finally come out in society, a lady’s maid to see to her beautiful ball gowns and carriage dresses, the last four years of attending to herself made her hesitant to ring the bell.

  No, not any more.

  She was no longer a companion but a lady and she would never be anything less ever again. She picked up the bell and shook it, the tinny noise cutting through the still of the room.

  ‘You’re upstairs early tonight, Lady Mary.’ Mrs Parker beamed as she came in from the adjacent room. Mary smiled at the older woman’s American frankness. If a lady’s maid had ever addressed her mother in so informal a manner she would have been dismissed without a reference. That strict distance between servants and employers had seemed so right and proper to Mary back then. It didn’t any more.

  ‘It was a successful, if not tiring one.’ It’d taken a great deal of organising prior to the dinner to make everything during it seem effortless and serene, and Mary was eager to sleep. She would need all the rest she could gather to get through the difficulties she was sure to face in the coming months if Richard’s health declined as quickly as his sister’s had. She’d seen the bloody handkerchiefs and heard the rattle in his chest, the same one that had claimed Ruth in the end. Mary clutched the watch on the ribbon, her eyes misting with tears. She was tired of losing people she cared about and who genuinely cared about her.

  ‘There, there, Lady Mary, what’s the matter?’ Mrs Parker laid a comforting hand on Mary’s shoulder and she didn’t shrug it off the way her mother had when her old housekeeper had tried to comfort her after the death of Mary’s grandmother. Instead, Mary welcomed the kind gesture. It reminded her of Ruth.