by Laura Landon
How could she not have seen through him?
How could she still love him?
“Are you feeling well?” Aunt Hester asked, touching her arm lightly.
“Yes, fine. Why?”
“You seem so preoccupied. At times even more so than when you first arrived. Are you sure nothing is wrong?”
“Everything is fine. I was watching Charlotte and Markinsdale and wondering how soon he’d ask to see me.”
The lie worked. It pulled her aunt’s attention to where Charlotte and Markinsdale sat.
Aunt Hester beamed with pride as she patted Maggie’s arm. “Did you ever think both your sisters would find such perfect matches so quickly?”
“I owe their success to Cousin Jonathan for providing them with a Season.”
“Nonsense. You owe their success to your mother for passing down to her daughters both beauty and intelligence.”
Maggie smiled nostalgically, but her smile didn’t stay long.
“Oh, look,” Aunt Hester said, letting her gaze rest on the tall, handsome gentleman walking across the ballroom floor. “It’s the Earl of Camden.”
Maggie started to rise. “I’d prefer to—”
“I’m not going to allow you to run away from him tonight,” her aunt said, pressing her hand against Maggie’s arm to keep her from moving. “I don’t know what happened between you and Grayson but I’m sure his father had nothing to do with it.”
That wasn’t true. Gray’s father had everything to do with it. He was the one who—
Maggie stopped short. No, it was unfair to blame him. Her father was to blame for what had happened. No one else.
Maggie felt a little of the ice fall away from around her heart and waited until the Earl of Camden stopped in front of her. Her heart gave a painful lurch when she looked up into his eyes. For a moment it was as though she was looking into Gray’s eyes.
“Camden, how good to see you,” Aunt Hester said.
The earl took her aunt’s hand and tenderly brought it to his lips. “You become lovelier with every passing day, Hester. How do you do it?”
“It’s easy,” she said, patting the hand that still held hers, “when men like you are so expert at lying.”
They both laughed then turned their attention to her. “Camden, allow me to present my niece, Miss Margaret Bradford. I don’t think you’ve met.”
“No, I’ve been denied the pleasure.”
The Earl of Camden executed a perfect bow that was identical to the one Gray had first given her.
“Miss Bradford. I’ve been hoping to meet you for a long time but we always seem to miss one another.”
“Lord Camden.”
Maggie remembered to hold out her hand and the earl took it. He didn’t hold it nearly as long as he’d held Aunt Hester’s and Maggie was thankful. Every nerve in her body was tied in knots.
“May I first tell you how lovely you and your sisters are?”
“Thank you. Felicity and Charlotte take after Mother and she was a beautiful woman.”
“I had the pleasure of meeting her once and you’re correct. She was extraordinarily beautiful. You, also, bear a striking resemblance to her.”
Maggie couldn’t help but smile. Oh, Gray was so like his father.
The Earl of Camden turned his attention to Maggie’s aunt. “Hester, I believe I see Lady Rudman across the room. She mentioned earlier that it had been forever since she’d visited with you and was hoping to see you this evening.”
It took Aunt Hester a moment to realize the earl’s intent, but when she did, she quickly made her excuses and left. Maggie watched her make her way across the room and it was all she could do not to call her back.
“Was that terribly obvious of me?”
“Yes, but not unexpected,” Maggie replied. “I knew we’d eventually have this conversation.”
“Is the thought so disagreeable?”
“I can’t admit to it being altogether pleasant.”
The earl smiled. “You have your mother’s honesty.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” The earl motioned to Aunt Hester’s vacated chair. “Would you mind if I sat?”
“Please.”
He sat. “First, let me explain how deeply I regret what happened between your father and me. It was never my intent to take his brewery. I tried to encourage him to stop before his debt became so monumental. But to no avail.”
Maggie didn’t doubt that’s exactly what happened. She knew her father.
“He was so sure his luck would change,” the earl continued. “Unfortunately, it didn’t.”
Camden breathed a heavy sigh and Maggie knew he truly regretted what had happened.
“When the game was over, as a matter of honor, he had no choice but to offer the deed to the brewery to cover what he’d lost. And I, as a matter of honor, had no choice but to accept it.
“I want you to know that I allowed your father an adequate amount of time to bring me the money in exchange for the deed. I hoped he would come. I would have accepted his payment even if he’d been late. But he never came. I had no choice but to keep the deed as payment.”
Maggie swallowed hard. She knew why her father hadn’t returned.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said past the lump in her throat.
“I wish it could have been different. Unfortunately, I was left with no choice.”
Maggie acknowledged his apology with a nod of acceptance but wasn’t able to speak.
“Your aunt tells me you recognized my son when you saw him.” He continued as if he didn’t expect an answer.
“Yes, I’d met him in London a few years ago. But I didn’t realize he held the deed to my brewery until…” She stopped. “…later.”
“Is that why you left so abruptly?”
“There was no need for me to remain. I’m sure you can understand that.”
“Perhaps. Do you consider that you left your brewery in capable hands?”
“The brewery is no longer mine. It hardly matters how capable the hands are that run it.”
“I doubt you mean that any more than your mother would have meant it.”
Maggie felt a stab of chagrin. “I’m not worried,” she finally admitted. “The brewery is in good hands.”
The Earl of Camden’s brows shot upward and Maggie studied him with an assessing gaze. “Do you doubt your son’s ability, my lord?”
Camden smiled. “No. I have never been the one to doubt Gray’s ability. I am just pleased that such a knowledgeable person as yourself considers him capable. Is it your opinion, then, that he is likely to succeed at running the brewery?”
Maggie tilted her head in submission. “First, I thank you for the compliment. When discussing business, few males would consider any female knowledgeable enough to ask their opinion.”
“You forget. I met your mother. She predicted then that you would outshine even her when it came to business decisions.”
Maggie blinked rapidly to keep the tears from her eyes. The earl graciously covered for her.
“You haven’t, however, answered my question concerning my son.”
“Are you worried that if the brewery doesn’t afford him enough money to live in the lifestyle he’s accustomed to, that his creditors will be back knocking at your door?”
The earl paused. “No, that is no longer a possibility. My son understands that the brewery will from now on, be his only means of support.”
Maggie couldn’t hide her surprise.
“I take it my son didn’t tell you that I cut off all financial ties to him when I handed over the deed I’d won from your father. I did this for his own good, although I hardly think he’ll ever see it that way.”
“Your last effort to force him to accept responsibility?” she said with more bitterness than she intended.
He laughed. “I hope my son didn’t underestimate you. You would be a worthy ally and a dangerous adversary.”
Maggie’s heart twisted. “No, your son didn’t underestimate me. If anything, it was the other way around.”
“I see,” the earl said after a gaping silence.
He studied her with an evaluating gaze. Oh, Gray was so much like him the reminder hurt.
Maggie’s heart thundered a warning in her breast. If ever there was a person not to be underestimated, it was the Earl of Camden. She thought that had been Gray’s first mistake, and the reason he had to rely on her brewery to earn his living. Now, she wondered what mistake she should be watchful for so she didn’t underestimate the earl’s objective.
“Grayson has the brewery as a means to make his way in the world. What does that leave you with?” The answer was in this question he asked.
The blood rushed through Maggie’s head while her heart pounded against her ears. “I have more than enough, Lord Camden. My mother made sure each one of her daughters had the knowledge to make their own way in the world.”
“And your father? I’ve been very concerned for your father since the last time I saw him. How is he?”
Maggie’s cheeks burned hot. “I haven’t spoken to him for some time now. He’s been traveling, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know. In fact, I’ve tried to find some trace of him and can’t. No one remembers seeing him since the night he lost his brewery to me, and there is no record of him leaving the country.”
“You’ve hired someone to find him?” she asked, unable to keep the incredulity from her voice.
“My intent is only to make sure he has not come to any harm.”
Maggie swallowed. “Let me assure you, Lord Camden, my father is at peace. He holds no ill feelings toward you. And neither do I.”
“And toward my son?”
Maggie turned her gaze to the small group of young men and women that included her sisters and their beaux. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t you?”
Maggie slowly forced herself to look into eyes that reminded her so much of Gray’s. “Your son and I both made some serious errors in judgment. Fortunately, that is in the past.”
“Tell me, what do you see in the future?”
“I’m not sure that’s any of your—”
Camden held up his hand to stop her words, but there was a smile on his face. “You’re right. It is none of my concern. Unfortunately, I can’t help but be curious. It’s a flaw in my character. One I’m sure my son shares with me.”
Maggie didn’t have an answer to that. Her goal every day was to think about Gray as little as possible and the earl wasn’t making it any easier by bringing up the qualities Gray possessed.
“I think that you cared for my son a great deal more than you’re letting on. I hope he came to care for you in the same way. He could not have chosen better.”
Maggie turned her head so she wouldn’t have to see the concern in the earl’s eyes. Or let him see the hurt in hers.
“I’m not sure what your plans are, but I want you to know if you are ever in need, please don’t hesitate to come to me. I would never turn away someone Gray cares for if they needed my help.”
“I will remember your offer, but I can’t imagine ever needing anything.”
The earl smiled. “I’m sure you won’t but if you—”
The Earl of Camden stopped his sentence and glanced to a spot just over her shoulder. The look in his eyes turned warm. Her blood turned cold as ice.
She knew who was behind her. Without being told, she knew that her worst fear had come to haunt her.
The earl rose to his feet and a warmhearted smile lifted the corners of his lips.
She rose too, but didn’t turn around. She silently prayed that the floor would open up and swallow her before she had to face him.
“Hello, Father.”
“Son.”
She knew it was too much to hope that he would ignore her. She clasped her hands tighter in front of her and waited for his satin-rich voice to wash over her, then sink through every pore of her body as soft butter on fresh-baked bread still warm from the oven.
“Hello, Maggie, my love.”
Her heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach.
Chapter Twenty-One
Maggie slowly turned. Her breath caught and there was a hitch in the rapid beating of her heart.
For a long time, she’d hadn’t seen him in anything other than the work clothes he’d worn at the brewery or the gentleman’s attire he’d put on when they went to talk to Orin Wattich. Tonight he wore dress blacks and she doubted any man in the ballroom was half as handsome.
She filled her lungs with a deep breath that raised her shoulders, then lifted her chin as an indication of her defiance.
She would not be intimidated by him. She wasn’t the one who’d come to the brewery under false pretenses. Or the one who’d deceived him by trying to get him to marry. She hadn’t taken everything away from him and left him with a broken heart.
An angry wave of fury rushed to every part of her body and her heart suddenly hardened cold as ice.
She made a point of giving him the cut by turning to his father. “If you’ll excuse me, Lord Camden. I think my sisters need me.”
“Don’t you dare walk away from me again, Maggie. I won’t allow it.” Gray’s voice stopped her after one step.
His voice was a low, angry growl unlike any tone she’d ever heard come from his mouth before. A shiver of dread made the flesh stand on her arms but she couldn’t let him have the upper hand. She wouldn’t survive if she did.
She turned to face him with a glare in her eyes. “You won’t allow it?”
She took a step toward him but it wasn’t a ladylike step. It was an angry stride that put her face to face with his simmering fury. “How dare you!”
Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard the Earl of Camden make his excuses. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him walk away wearing a smile she couldn’t interpret. Because of a niggling sense of propriety that she’d been taught to observe from her youth she also realized that Gray and she were drawing unwanted attention. But she didn’t care. She’d been hurt far too badly to let him escape unscathed.
She thought he wouldn’t care either. The old Gray wouldn’t have been concerned about what anyone in Society thought of his actions. But this new Gray obviously cared a great deal what people thought of him.
Maggie saw him look around and the moment he realized every curious eye was focused on them his breath caught and he pasted the most unnaturally-endearing smile she’d ever seen on his face. Then, with stilted ease, he held his arm out as if he expected her to take it.
“Perhaps we should continue this conversation on the terrace.”
“Perhaps you should go to the devil.”
“Mag…gie.”
The warning she heard in the way he’d said her name was blatant, but to give heed would seem as if she’d backed down from him. And that she refused to do. “If you think I’m going anywhere with you, you’re sadly—”
“If you don’t go outside with me,” he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “I’m going to make an announcement that will put you and your sisters into a year of mourning.”
Maggie felt a stab of alarm. Where was the easygoing rogue she’d thought him to be? Where had his devil-may-care attitude and easy smile gone?
She looked into Gray’s face and knew the lighthearted man with a shallow personality had never existed. That façade was a mask he wore to fool everyone into believing he was an irresponsible ne’er-do-well. The man daring her to ignore the hand he held out to her was the real Gray.
The man threatening her to get what he wanted was the real Gray. This Gray had a sharp intelligence and a shrewd business sense that could outwit even the most cunning adversary.
This Gray’s dogged determination had gone on a campaign to double Bradford’s tied properties. Not because of a flippant desire to spend money, but because he realized the importance of providing outlets for
the brewery’s ale.
She looked deep into his eyes, hoping to see some sign that he wasn’t as serious as he seemed. Or as angry.
“Do you doubt I’ll carry through on my threat?”
“Oh, no,” she said with a malicious smile. “I am more than aware of the lengths to which you will go to get what you want.”
She placed her hand on his outstretched arm and clamped her fingers around his flesh, praying her nails dug hard enough to hurt him. She knew it was a silly gesture. She doubted he even felt her attempt to hurt him through the muscles that working in a brewery had honed to steel. When he threw back his head and laughed, she knew how futile her attempt had been.
He patted her hand that dug into his arm the same as a father pats his child as if saying, “good try,” then led her across the room and out the open doors. The second they were out of sight of their captivated audience, she pulled her hand away and stepped to the other side of the cement terrace.
“What do you want?” she demanded, unable to keep her voice steady.
He crossed his arms over his chest as if he had the right to be angry with her. “For starters, I want to know why you left me without even a word.”
She had to try twice before she was in control enough to speak. “What word would you have had me say? ‘Congratulations’ for your ability to deceive me for as long as you did. Or, ‘bravo’ because your performance was expert enough to dupe me into believing the story that you owned a brewery someplace else and were working in my brewery to learn all you could from the ‘best’? Or, ‘thank you’ for taking away—”
“Enough! I didn’t want to take anything away from you. I offered to marry you so you would never lose the brewery!”
She staggered back, but caught herself against the balustrade. “How magnanimous of you. Remind me to kiss the ground upon which you walk.”
“Bloody hell, woman. I didn’t offer to marry you to do you a favor.”
“Didn’t you? Then why did you offer to marry me? Was it pity because you’d taken everything away from me and left me with nothing? Or did guilt eat away at the small bit of conscience you have left because you knew how much the brewery meant to me? Or was it simply selfishness on your part? Did you simply want someone knowledgeable to run the brewery for you whenever you decided to run to London for the Season and I fit the bill as well as anyone else?”
