by Jane Charles
“Bloody hell!” Sam proclaimed from the entry, holding a package of sort. “I’m halfway across the world and His Grace still attempts to interfere in my life.”
“Danby?” Hannah questioned from her place on the stairs. “Does he write you often.”
“Often enough,” Sam grumbled. “I’ll go to the library and see what orders he has issued this time, or advice on how I’m conducting my life.”
Nate laughed and followed while Hannah was simply thankful that Danby wasn’t interfering in her life.
A bark of laughter drew Hannah to the library where her brothers had gone.
“Most people don’t usually laugh when they receive correspondence from the Duke of Danby.”
Sam and Nate both glanced at her as if she’d startled them, which was very odd.
“What does he want?”
Sam shook his head. “He warned me not to allow you to marry anyone from Barbados. He fears that you might settle on the first man who offers simply to avoid your mother, and his wise counsel.”
“I’ll marry who I wish and in my own time, even if it isn’t the person I thought it would be.”
“Don’t be so glum, Hannah,” Nate offered. “Wingate still has two months to pay his debts.”
“We shall see,” she muttered.
Sam folded the missive from Danby then put it in a drawer, locking it away. There were several sheets of paper, which had her wondering what else their great-uncle had written and why did Sam feel the need to keep the information secret?
Unless, Danby did name her husband.
Hannah bit the corner of her lip. As soon as Sam and Nate were gone, she was determined to break into that drawer. Or, steal his key.
“I’m off to visit Roxburg to see if he agrees with my review of Palmer’s accounting,” Sam announced. “Would anyone care to join me?”
Hannah shook her head.
“I think I’ll remain here,” Nate responded, studying her.
Blast, they knew her too well, or assumed she was up to something.
Why had she shown interest in the correspondence or the locked drawer?
“I think, I’ll relax on the veranda,” she finally said knowing that she wouldn’t get a chance even to snoop as long as Nate was around.
In fact, it was best to investigate when everyone was sound asleep so that she wasn’t interrupted.
With a grin, Hannah wandered to the edge of the veranda and looked out over the ocean. She’d solve one problem: how to find out what Danby had written. Unfortunately, she still had no clear answers to the fate of Wingate.
She loved him, and it was the only certainty she possessed.
They were betrothed, or had been, but despite what her brothers claimed, it was a coerced betrothal, which irritated her.
So, how could she trust that he had wanted the betrothal in the first place?
Self-doubt and the awkward circumstances were unsettling.
Had it been a normal courtship, with a normal betrothal, Hannah would be confident in his affection for her, but how could she be after the way everything had come about and the secrets.
Her brothers could be wrong. Everyone could be wrong.
What if he had welcomed this new condition? The marriage to Miss Francine Palmer offered freedom, at least from her. Had he agreed to keep it a secret in hopes to find a way to free himself?
Then why had he kissed her?
Such a glorious kiss, and every time she relived it, her body heated and she longed for another, and so much more.
Except, when he kissed her, he believed they were to be married. Had he not, would Wingate have kissed her in the first place?
Oh, this was so maddening, and she didn’t know what to think. If he’d only call, then she could ask, demand honest answers because until she knew what he wanted, truly wanted without her brothers forcing any issues, Hannah would not know how she should proceed.
With those thoughts in mind, she strode back into the house, and summoned a servant to have a horse saddled.
Today she would find out the truth because if she didn’t soon, she’d likely go mad.
Chapter 17
Ashton held his breath and waited. Roxburg and Storm had completed their review of Palmer’s accounting and he was about to find out the accuracy in the amount quoted.
“It’s not as good as we’d hoped,” Roxburg finally admitted and with those words, all hope was lost.
“How much?”
“The more accurate amount is seventeen thousand pounds,” Sam answered. “I wish we could reduce the interest but based on the terms of the contract, that is not possible.”
Ashton rose and poured a glass of rum. Perhaps he’d spend the remainder of his time in Barbados drunk. It was a better alternative than facing his future.
“How much is the plantation worth?”
“A fair amount, is ten thousand pounds, if you were to sell to anyone else. The figure is based on the number of acres, condition of the land, house and outbuildings.”
Ashton nodded, but that still left him seven thousand pounds short.
“The enslaved at the value of one hundred pounds for the males, eighty-five pounds for the women and ninety pounds for each child, calculates to another eight thousand pounds, which brings you enough to pay the debt to Palmer.”
“I will not sell the enslaved.”
“Between the plantation and the enslaved, that is eighteen thousand,” Roxburg reminded.
Ashton pounded his fist on the desk. “And I will not sell people to save myself.” Perhaps he shouldn’t have yelled, but as much as he wanted out from under Palmer’s control, there was one line he would not cross and everyone needed to understand that. He’d never be able to live with himself. It was bad enough that he still owned them, and they were on Palmer’s plantation, probably being treated poorly at best.
“Understood.” Roxburg leaned back in his chair. “Sam and I have discussed this at length and the best we can offer is fourteen thousand pounds, for the land and the enslaved.”
“I’m not selling…”
Roxburg held his hand up. “We will take the enslaved and give them their freedom, as we did ours, and offer jobs to anyone who wishes to stay and work the land.”
“It’s the reason we can only offer a lesser amount,” Sam explained.
Ashton relaxed back in his chair and took a sip of the rum.
“I wish we could offer more,” Roxburg offered with sympathy.
“It isn’t necessary that you offer anything, but I appreciate the consideration.”
“We want the land, we’ve already told you, and we need the workers as we barely have enough for our own plantation.”
They had shown an interest the first time they spoke on the matter.
“Unfortunately, that leaves you three thousand pounds short. Is there any way that you could arrange for that amount?”
“Not by the first of the year.”
“Perhaps Palmer would wait if he receives the majority of what is owed.”
Ashton leveled Roxburg a disbelieving look. “Aren’t you the one who told me that Palmer wanted a title for his daughter and would do anything in his power to gain that?”
Roxburg nodded. “He found that title in your father, knowing that eventually he’d gain what he wanted.”
“Excuse me, Your Grace, but Lady Hannah Storm has come to call,” the footman announced.
Ashton straightened and turned. Hannah was here? As much as he wished to see her, he would not. He’d not prolong a painful parting. At least painful for him.
“I’m not certain where my wife is. Perhaps in the garden.”
“Lady Hannah is not here for Her Grace, but Lord Wingate.”
“Interesting.” Roxburg’s eyebrows rose. “Scandalous even.”
“Forward, but not scandalous,” Sam argued. He was not smiling.
“Enterprising,” Roxburg suggested.
“That all depends on how she greets Wingate.” Sa
m warned.
Ashton’s stomach tightened. “She knows?”
“About your betrothal?” Sam countered to which Ashton nodded.
“Yes. She’s been made aware.”
Maybe she was simply here to give him a piece of her mind for withholding pertinent information. Maybe she was so angry she’d never want to see him again, after she’d blistered his ears.
It would certainly make matters easier, not that it would make him want her any less.
It was extremely bold to call on Lord Wingate but when one’s happy future was at stake, it was not a time to be reticent.
She waited, her back straight, chin up, determined to have answers.
“Lady Hannah, how are you fairing?” Wingate asked as he entered the parlor. While his tone was pleasant, his eyes were clouded with confusion and curiosity.
Well, of course they would be. She was a lady calling on a bachelor. At least it wasn’t at a private residence. That would surely see her ruined, but as she was in Roxburg’s home and her brother was supposed to be here too, nobody need know the real reason for her call.
“I am well, Lord Wingate.” She glanced to his boots. “Your feet are recovered?”
“Yes, they have.” He gestured to a chair. “Would you like to take a seat? I can ring for tea.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ve only come for answers to a few questions.”
“Very well?” The curiosity was back in his eyes.
“I’ve recently learned that we are betrothed.”
“Were,” he corrected
Hannah held up her hand. She’d not asked a question and she wasn’t ready to let him back out of the agreement.
“We are betrothed.” He’d not asked her brothers to be released from the agreement. “Did this come about by force.”
“It was their right…”
She held up her hand again. “Please answer the question. Were you forced?”
Wingate pulled back. “No.”
She nodded.
“Even though betrothal had never been mentioned prior to the night of the storm?”
“The circumstances rushed the decision.”
“Rushed? Not forced?”
Wingate blew out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You are aware I wished to court you. A gentleman doesn’t set out to court a lady unless he envisions a more permanent future.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded. “You had ample opportunity, especially the following day when we strolled along the beach. Certainly before you kissed me.”
He straightened as his eyes widened. “I didn’t wish to keep it a secret, but your brothers warned me that you might not be receptive of our change in circumstance.”
“Yes, well, they were correct. I can be quite stubborn in that I don’t like being told what to do.”
At least he smiled at her admission when truly, she must not react before thinking through what is being told to her.
“You admitted as much yourself,” he acknowledged. “Then, when you spoke of not wishing to rush into a decision as your friends had done, I decided to hold my tongue for fear that you’d run.”
At that, Hannah’s face heated. She really must pause and think in the future. Just because someone was telling her to do something didn’t mean it wasn’t right.
Why was she so stubborn?
However, now was not the time to evaluate this sometimes unbecoming trait in her personality, especially since she intended to hold onto this particular trait and use it in this circumstance.
“You wished to be betrothed to me.”
“Lady Hannah two days ago…”
She held up her hand again. “It’s a simple yes or no question. Do or do you not wish to be betrothed to me.”
“I do.” He held her eyes as he answered, and she couldn’t miss the flicker of pain.
“Do you love me?” That may just be the boldest question yet.
“It matters not my emotions…”
“Please, answer the question, and be fully honest, please.”
“Honestly?” he tilted his head and studied her. “I have a deep fondness for you. A deep caring. Until my life turned on its ear, you are who I wanted to spend my days with. You are the person I wanted to talk with. You are the one I wanted to kiss.”
“You feel it’s too soon to make a declaration?” She was not one to believe that one could fall in love in a matter of days and as much as she wished he’d claim love, Hannah was content that he’d not yet said the words, though she had longed to hear them.
“Yes. My heart may wish me to utter the words.” He took a step forward. “First blooms of attraction and desire can often be confused as love, as your friends have learned, and I’m not yet ready to make a declaration.” Then it was as if a cloud crossed over and he stilled before he stepped back. “However, it is not something we should discuss. Now or ever.”
“Ever?” she demanded.
“My circumstances are no longer as they were. I will not be offering for you Lady Hannah and it pains me to say so.”
“You already did, and I won’t allow you to take it back.”
Chapter 18
Take it back? “In other words, you will not allow me to break the betrothal?” Did she not know the circumstances that brought him to this?
“No!” Hannah answered as she crossed her arms over her breasts and lifted her chin.
“You don’t understand.”
“Oh, I understand completely,” she assured him. “However, you are a marquess and I am a lady. An honorable gentleman never breaks a betrothal.”
She was going to hold him to honor? “Few know of the betrothal, Hannah.”
“It matters not to me if only you and I are aware or the whole of London.”
“We aren’t in London,” he reminded her.
“It matters not to me where we are or who knows. I shan’t allow you to break the agreement reached with my brothers.”
Why was she being so stubborn about this?
Ashton pinched the bridge of his nose. Because she was Hannah Stubborn Storm.
“I’m certain that if your brothers had known the state of my finances prior to the betrothal, they never would have allowed it to take.”
“Then you know them even less than you know me.”
He hated that he had to speak of such, to let her know how truly poor he was, but it was for her own good. “I cannot pay Palmer. I have debtors hounding me in London. I can only hope that once all the properties and belongings are sold, that I break even.”
She simply blinked at him as if what he was saying was of no importance. Did she not understand?
“I should never have agreed to the betrothal to begin with.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “As soon as I realized the extent of the debt my father left, I shouldn’t have even considered courting you.”
“Why did you then?”
He could be honest, or he could claim that it was simply time for him to wed. Except, he couldn’t lie to Hannah. There had already been enough secrets and he tired of them. “Because you are the only lady I’ve thought about since last spring.” It was quite possible he did begin to fall in love then, and so often over the summer he considered how he would approach her in the following season, how to avoid her mother, and prayed that she didn’t wed before he saw her again. A gentleman does not give so much thought to a lady during times apart if his heart wasn’t already engaged. If it were simply passion or desire, he would have lost interest and if necessary, found another to ease his needs. But that hadn’t been the case. It was Hannah last spring. It was Hannah on his mind after he returned to Maywood Manor. But, to confess such to her would only make matters worse. And, perhaps, it was necessary to keep some secrets. “You are the lady I intended on courting in the coming spring, if I could manage to remain solvent, but that is no longer possible.”
“So you claim.”
“It’s the truth!” he nearly yelled in frustration. Why w
as she making this so difficult? Stubborn? Perhaps this was a trait that would drive him to madness eventually. But since they would not wed, he would never learn. Still, he couldn’t help but admire her in this moment.
“Poor gentlemen marry often.”
“Usually to the first heiress who will take him.” As much as such was distasteful, Ashton now truly understood the desperation.
“As Miss Palmer is an heiress, you intend to toss me aside to save yourself and risk unhappiness in your future.”
“It’s not so simple. I cannot pay the debt to Palmer before the deadline.”
“Of course you can.”
He had also considered Hannah intelligent. Did she not grasp the seriousness of the situation, how debts and funds mattered? She was a lady from a wealthy family and probably never had to give consideration as to how much she spent on any given item. “Where are these funds going to come from?” he finally asked. “Do you know of a secret treasure buried somewhere on the island?”
Her eyes brightened. “What a delightful idea. Do you think it possible that a long-ago pirate might have buried a treasure? We should go treasure hunting.”
“Stop, Hannah. I’m serious. I do not have the funds and have no hope of attaining them before the debt is due. I have little choice but to marry Miss Palmer.”
“Simply marry me and your problems will be solved.”
Oh, if only it was that simple. “I don’t see how that will assist me.”
“Well, first, you wouldn’t be in a position to marry Miss Palmer so her father couldn’t force the issue.”
There was that, but the debt would still remain. Further, Mr. Palmer thought nothing of ordering Ashton to set the betrothal aside, who knows what he’d suggest if Ashton married someone other than the man’s daughter. More importantly, if he didn’t marry the daughter, Ashton did face prison.
“My dowry is fifteen thousand. That amount with whatever my brother and Roxburg offer you for your plantation should clear the debt to Palmer.”
He gaped at her. “You wish me to marry you simply to get my hands on your dowry?”