A Lady Most Lovely (9 page)

“Yes,” he agreed, turning her accusation back upon her. “I believe there is.”

“At least I haven’t been boasting about triumphs that never happened.” It was true. If anything, hers had been lies of omission only, not correcting those who assumed she was rich. “I haven’t been attempting to lure innocent investors into a shaky scheme.”

“Haven’t you, though? You lured me into this engagement.”

“Lured!” Margaret fairly stuttered from the insult of it. “Lured!”

“Be quiet!” he snapped. He turned away from her and began to pace the room, his arms crossed, thinking aloud. “Perhaps we are both being too hasty. There might still be a way we can salvage this situation. But how…”

His question hung in the air, unanswered. Margaret stared at him, her heart pounding furiously from anger and frustration, unable to accept this quagmire they’d driven each other into.

“We must use your land,” Paul said at last, turning back to her. “We’ll sell a portion. The Northern and Eastern Railway wants a tract for a line to Lincoln—”

“No!” she said vehemently. “The estate has been intact for more than two hundred years, and I intend to
keep it that way.” She looked at him suspiciously. “How did you know the railway wanted my land?”

He shrugged. “I’m in the railway business. I ought to know these things.”

“But you must have
some
money,” she pressed. “Can you not liquidate
your
assets? If we can just make some farming improvements, we can get the land profitable again. You can start a new company once the debts are paid.”

“I do not think we can pay off your debts with my debts.” He gave a coarse laugh. “If we could figure out how to do that, we could build an empire.”

“You mean, you really have
nothing?
”

“My money was swindled from me!” The anger and frustration in his voice showed how deeply it pained him to admit it. “I did not lie when I said my previous investment was an unparalleled success. Unfortunately, the other partners cheated me out of my share.” He gave her a look of defiance. “And that’s the God’s honest truth. Are you happy now?”

That was it, then. There really was no money. Margaret stood still, unable to move, her mind reeling from the cruel irony of her situation. Her anger was gone now, swept away by a tidal wave of self-recrimination. She’d thought she’d been so clever, congratulated herself for maintaining the upper hand. All the while, she and Paul had each been playing the other for a fool.

There was a light tap at the door, and the maid entered with a silver tea tray.

“Just set it down there,” Margaret said, indicating a table, dismayed to see her hand was trembling. “We will serve ourselves.”

Paul laughed. “Seems to me that we’ve been serving ourselves for quite some time now.”

After giving them both a puzzled glance, the maid set down the tray and left the room. Margaret closed the door behind her. She stood for a moment with her forehead pressed against the smooth oak, searching for strength.

Behind her, Paul said, “You realize this changes everything.”

“Yes,” she said with a shudder. “I do.”

She turned to face him, bracing herself against the door. “We must call off the engagement.”

Paul’s expression was stony, resigned. He did not answer.

“What a pair of fools we have been!” Margaret cried bitterly. “Leading each other on, making protestations of love. But it was never about love, was it?”

He approached her. “My attraction to you was genuine.” He ran his hands lightly up and down her arms, and she shivered from his touch. He’d always had that effect on her. Seeing her react to him now, he drew closer. “Don’t deny that you felt it, too,” he said gently in her ear. “You felt something when we were close.” He trailed soft kisses from her ear to her mouth. “If we must part, let us do it on amicable terms…”

His lips came down on hers, kissing her ferociously. He pressed her into the door, covering every part of her body with his own. The heat she had felt outside earlier today was nothing compared to this.

Over the past weeks she’d told herself that this attraction between them must be a sign that somewhere, deep down, there was love—or at least the potential for it. Now, through the tangle of her confusion, she was beginning
to understand. In his lovemaking, as with everything else, simple, cold calculations lay behind all his actions. In any situation, he knew how to manipulate people to get what he wanted. The man had nearly ruined them both with his lies. This was just one more way he was using her.

Margaret fought to gather her wits, pushing him away. “Stop it, Paul,” she gasped. “It’s over.”

He placed his hands on either side of the door, keeping her penned up against it. His eyes were hard, piercing. “If we end our engagement, we can never reveal why. It will go better for both of us that way. And don’t even consider suing me for breach of promise—there is no money to be gained by it, I assure you.”

She was right. Paul had never even come close to caring for her. He cared for no one but himself. “Why, you insufferable, lying bas—”

“Now, now.” He placed a finger on her lips to stop her. “You should be glad that I am willing to watch out for both of us, despite this unfortunate turn of events. A lawsuit would bring only shame and embarrassment and keep either of us from our goal.”

“What goal would that be?” she said, escaping his grasp. She crossed her arms and scowled, furious to find she was still shaking, and determined to hide it. She would not allow herself to show any sign of weakness.

“Why, we must both marry money, of course,” he replied. “We have both proven that we are masters at hoodwinking others. If you and I managed to fool each other, that proves we are cut from the same cloth. You are beautiful, and, despite your debts, you bring an impressive estate to your dowry. As for me, despite my
money problems, I have the strength of an old family name and highly sought-after social connections. I am also quite appealing to the ladies, although I risk going to perdition for my vanity in saying so.”

Vanity was not the only thing that was going to send him to perdition, Margaret thought. “But we must give some excuse for breaking the engagement,” she insisted.

“Nonsense. People will talk, of course. But so long as we—and our lawyers—remain tight-lipped on this, I see no reason for worry.”

“No reason for worry,” Margaret repeated sarcastically. “Can you really take all this so lightly?”

“This has been a setback; I won’t deny it. I was rather looking forward to marrying you, in fact.” He gave her another appreciative glance. “However, I still have prospects. I
always
have prospects. If you wish to keep
your
options open, I suggest you take my advice about staying mum on why we are not getting married.”

They stared at each other across the room. Taking her silence as acquiescence, Paul gave a short nod and turned to open the study door. “Don’t bother ringing for the butler. I’ll let myself out.”

Margaret sank into a chair, listening to the sound of his retreating footsteps. Her head pounded. She closed her eyes tightly against the pain. She was trembling violently—not just from her reaction to Paul, but from the realization that her carefully constructed world had toppled as easily as a child’s building blocks.

What was she to do? Look for another rich man? How could she even consider turning her life over to anyone? She had been prepared to do it with Paul, and he had led her to the brink of disaster.

She forced herself to open her eyes, rubbing her temples in an attempt to ease the throbbing as she looked over at the scattered papers. Not all were from the dossier Hawthorne had given her; some pertained to the wedding. All that time and planning, useless now.

She rose and poured herself some tea, and was gratified to find her hands shaking less and less as she drank it. Thus fortified, she tried to review her situation with a clear head. She was still determined to hold on to her land. But how was she to buy more time from the creditors?

There was, in fact, one option left to her, she realized now. She must immediately sell all of the fine Thoroughbreds she’d been carefully raising and training. She would have made a greater profit if she could have retained them for another year, but she would have to sell them now and get what she could.

In less than a month her lenders would be demanding payment. She would have to find a buyer quickly—someone who would give her cash outright for the horses. Then she would be able to give the lenders a portion of the amount owed and hope she might persuade them to wait a little longer for the rest.

If she was frugal and very careful, it might buy her enough time. The crops were looking good; the harvest potential was above average. With any luck at all she could survive another year.

But
luck
was something that Margaret found always seemed to elude her.

H
ave you heard the news? It’s quite astounding, really.” James greeted them with this pronouncement as he entered the breakfast room, newspaper in hand. “Where’s Lizzie? She will want to hear this.”

“Good morning to you, too, James,” Geoffrey said with mock formality. “Thanks for calling. Won’t you join us?”

“Why, thank you, I believe I will,” he replied with a smile, ignoring Geoffrey’s reproof and dropping into the chair opposite Tom.

Clearly attuned to James’s preferences, one of the footmen brought coffee forward and filled James’s cup. What an odd world this was, Tom thought. He still found it unnerving that the servants were so assiduously trained that they could anticipate a person’s every need and then jump to meet it.

“Lizzie is well, I hope?” James asked as he inspected the eggs and sliced beef laid down in front of him.

“She is resting,” Geoffrey answered. “The doctor has
ordered her to stay in bed this morning. It seems she was too active yesterday.”

James looked up from his plate. “But she is well? She needs only rest?”

A flicker of something that might have been worry showed in Geoffrey’s eyes. “Of course.”

“Truly?” James persisted. In spite of all his frivolity, he was always quite serious when it came to Lizzie’s health. Tom could see that James cared for his cousin deeply. Tom, too, had subjected Geoffrey to this close questioning before James had arrived. And just like James, he was not entirely convinced by the doctor’s words. Lizzie was the center of
all
their lives. If anything should happen to her…

“James, we do all we can, and trust to the Lord for the rest.” The look on Geoffrey’s face warned James not to pursue it further.

To his credit, James knew when to stop pressing. He gave a brief nod and said, “Please give her my love and tell her I was asking after her, won’t you?”

Geoffrey relaxed. “Of course. Now what is this news you spoke of?”

James snapped his fingers, as though remembering something he had temporarily forgotten. “It is astounding news.”

This brought out a chuckle from Geoffrey. “I can guess at the kind of news you would find
astounding,
James. Did someone run off with a duke’s daughter? Or drive a carriage the wrong way in Hyde Park?”

But James was inured to any teasing. “Oh, no,” he said earnestly, “it’s far more sensational than that.” He looked over at Tom with the satisfaction of a cat who has just stolen a chicken off the dinner table.

“Tell us what you have to say, James,” Geoffrey said.

“Oh, all right. Since you’ve dragged it out of me, here it is. The engagement between Denault and Miss Vaughn has been broken off.”

This news hit Tom like a thunderbolt. His butter knife slipped from his hand, dropping with a clatter onto his plate. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard right.” A slow smile pasted itself onto James’s face. “Miss Vaughn is once more on the marriage market.”

“How can that be?” Geoffrey asked. “And how do you know this?”

“Oh, it’s all over town.” James tapped the newspaper. “Hasn’t hit the
Times
yet, but it will. I learned about it at the club.”

Tom realized this was everything he’d been hoping for. Yet it only made him worried for Margaret. “Why are they breaking their engagement? Granted, I know nothing about society matches, but isn’t that unusual?”

James nodded. “
Unusual, rare, not done
—call it any number of things. I call it astounding. Everyone knew the pair of them were dead set to get married as soon as possible. Yet, inexplicably, this happens.”

“But
why?
” Tom asked impatiently. James did have a way of embellishing a subject rather than just getting to the heart of it.

James gave a nonchalant shrug. “No one knows for sure, although rumors abound. At times people can be most aggravatingly closemouthed on a subject.”

“Perhaps one of them decided it was not an advantageous match,” Geoffrey offered.

“If so, it must have been Miss Vaughn,” James said.
“Otherwise a breach-of-promise suit would be in the works. No one in the rumor mill seems to expect that.” He leaned back in his chair and tapped his chin. “Something must have caused her to change her mind. I wonder what it could be?” He sent another glance in Tom’s direction.