"Yes, I have changed. And the old tricks don't work any longer. If you want to throw your money away on petty schemes to ruin me, then do so, but they'll be futile. I will not let you destroy my business."
"Still trying to compete with me, aren't you?" Adrian sighed and shook his head. "When will you realize you can't win?"
Nathaniel's jaw tightened. Ten years ago, he would have realized it. He would have walked away. But now he didn't move. "Never."
"I was wrong. You haven't changed at all. You're still as pudding-headed as ever."
"I suppose so."
Adrian gave him a pitying look. "Make it easier on yourself, little brother. Pack it in and go back to America."
Nathaniel couldn't resist a taunt of his own. "Why should you care that I'm here? You must be afraid of the competition."
His brother shrugged, but Nathaniel saw through the nonchalance. "The way I see it," Adrian continued, "you have two choices. The first is to retreat now while you still can."
"And the second?"
"Prepare yourself for war."
Nathaniel tossed down the squash racquet like a gauntlet, but his gaze never left his brother's. The racquet landed at Adrian's feet, and the clatter echoed in the empty gymnasium. "War it is."
Without another word, Nathaniel turned and left, vowing that this time, there would be no retreat. There would be no surrender.
He walked all the way back to Whitechapel, and by the time he reached the factory, he had a plan. He knew what he had to do. He just hoped it would be enough.
When he arrived at the factory, workers had already begun cleaning up the mess, Percy had gone for the insurance representative, Michael had started putting the steam engines back together, and Mara's shock had worn off. He found her in the warehouse, directing workers with brisk efficiency as they put train parts back in their proper boxes.
She glanced up as he came to a halt beside her. "Whoever did this tried to break into the safe."
Nathaniel sucked in a deep breath. Not only did Adrian intend to destroy him, he intended to steal his invention as well. "The train?"
"The train, the track, and the design specifications are intact. They didn't manage to open the safe, but the office was ransacked. They must have gone looking for another copy of the design specifications when they couldn't open the safe."
"Was anything else taken?"
"Yes, the beam of each steam engine is missing."
Another way to delay him. Cleaning up the mess and replacing the beams would take at least three days. "What did the police say?" he asked.
"Apparently, the vandals went up the fire escape and forced open the door into our office. They also went out that way."
"They?"
"Inspector Carlisle thinks that in order to do this much damage, there must have been more than one, and they were probably here for quite some time. Michael agrees with that."
Nathaniel nodded. "Yes, dismantling the steam engines couldn't have been done quickly, even if there were several of them."
"It couldn't have been done quietly either. I can't understand why we didn't hear anything last night."
An ironic smile touched his mouth. He leaned closer. "Can't you?"
She blushed but didn't reply.
Nathaniel took another glance around. "Besides, this room is on the opposite side of the factory from us and there was quite a storm last night."
"The police said they would make inquiries in the
neighborhood. Whoever did this was trying to break open the safe to steal the train. That I can understand." She lifted her hands helplessly. "But this? This is senseless vandalism. Why?"
It wasn't senseless, and Nathaniel knew it. It was a delay, exactly what Adrian wanted, knowing that delays could cripple him. He turned away abruptly. "I'll help Michael put those steam engines back together. We need to have things back to normal as quickly as possible."
He left her there and set to work, but he knew he was only postponing the inevitable. Mara deserved to know the truth. He had to tell her what Adrian was up to and how he planned to prevent the scheme from succeeding, but he knew that when he did, she would ask him to stop. The woman that he loved would ask him to abandon the dream that was his life. And giving up his dream was the one thing Nathaniel could not do, not even for love.
Chapter Twenty-Five
By that evening, the factory was in some semblance of order. But due to the parts missing from the steam engines, production would be delayed another three days until they could obtain replacements.
Nathaniel and Michael spent their afternoon rebuilding the steam engines as best they could, while Mara worked in the warehouse. Billy came to watch Nathaniel and Michael work. When the factory closed and all the employees left for the day, Nathaniel took the boy out for a bite to eat, then took him home. Mara went up to the office and started straightening up the mess there.
When she'd finished, she sat down in her chair with a tired sigh. It had been an exhausting day, and she had managed to keep the impact of what had happened at bay. But now, when the factory was quiet, when it was dark out and she was alone, the shock and fear began to seep back into her bones.
She felt violated, invaded. She rubbed her palms up and down her arms, wishing Nathaniel would return. A thump outside on the fire escape made her jump out of her chair with a startled cry, but when she heard a loud meow and a scratching sound, she drew a deep, shaky breath of relief. It was only Algernon.
She opened the door, and the kitten strutted inside, a tiny and obviously dead mouse in his mouth. He dropped the prize at her feet like a sacred offering, then strolled past her and curled into a ball under her desk.
Mara kicked the stiff gray rodent out onto the fire escape and shut the door, still shaking. She wanted Nathaniel to come back. If he were here, she wouldn't be jumping at every little sound. She'd feel safe.
She had no idea what she would have done this morning if he had not been there. There would have been no strong arms to hold her, no safe haven to protect her.
Yet, she had run from his arms, from his protection, only moments before that, frightened by the intensity of other feelings, overwhelmed by needs and desires she had never even imagined. She wrapped her arms around her ribs, feeling the misery and confusion well up inside her, as if she were being ripped in half by her own warring emotions.
The loud bang of a door downstairs interrupted the quiet, and she turned her head sharply toward the doorway of the office. Holding her breath, she waited, listening to footsteps on the stairs. It wasn't until Nathaniel entered the room that she let out her breath in a rush of relief.
He carried a steamer trunk on his back, and he took it into his laboratory, giving her a nod of greeting as he passed. She followed him and watched in puzzlement as he set down the trunk. It hit the floor with a thud.
"What's that?" she asked.
"I've brought over some of my things," he said, pointing to a cot that had been set up against the far wall. A wooden chair and several crates stood beside it. "I'll sleep here from now on."
She stared at the cot and realized that he was completely serious. "You're moving in here? But why?"
He pushed the trunk against the wall to move it out of the way. "After what happened last night, you have to ask?"
"I thought we agreed—"
"We did, but what happened last night changes things. I want to make sure it doesn't happen again."
She paled. "You think something like this might happen again?"
"I'm certain of it."
"What makes you so certain?" she asked.
He had to tell her. Honesty and trust. Wasn't that the litany he chanted to her? Nathaniel walked over to one corner and grasped the back of the chair. He pulled it out a few feet. "Sit down. I want to talk to you."
She didn't move. "What makes you so certain?" she repeated.
He circled around to face her over the back of the chair. "Sit down."
Something in his voi
ce told her not to argue. She walked over to him and took the offered chair, as he sat down on one of the crates against the wall. He rested his forearms on his knees and stared down at his clasped hands for a long moment without speaking, then he looked up at her. "Did I ever tell you that my brother and I were partners once?"
She knit her brows in puzzlement. "No. What does that have to do with—"
"My father died when I was twenty," Nathaniel interrupted. "In his will, he left nearly half of Chase Toys to me."
She settled herself more comfortably in her chair. "I thought you said your father didn't have a very high opinion of you."
"He didn't, when I was a boy. He ran Chase Toys, but my grandfather owned it. When he died, my grandfather left it to my father with the stipulation that I be made chief engineer. My father had no choice but to bring me into the firm. I left Cambridge and went to work for Chase Toys. I was nineteen."
He turned his head and stared off into space, remembering. "We had to work together, and my father began to see that I had some good ideas. Adrian was in his last year at Cambridge, and with him away most of the time, my father and I developed some mutual respect. When Adrian finished school, he came into the company as well. You can't imagine what that was like."
"Yes, I can."
He glanced up at her in surprise.
"I met your brother, remember? A very arrogant man."
Nathaniel acknowledged her comment with a wry smile. "At first, I don't think Adrian considered me a threat to his position. He was the heir, groomed to take over. I don't think he realized our father would ever take me seriously. But when he came into the firm, he saw how our relationship had changed in his absence, and I think it was then that he truly began to hate me. My father died that summer and left nearly half the company to me. Adrian and I were forced to be partners. It was a failure from the start."
"What happened?"
"It was the worst two years of my life. If I made a decision, Adrian countermanded it. If I designed a new toy, Adrian refused to manufacture it. He constantly undermined my authority, refused to compromise, and there was nothing I could do. All my life, I'd wanted to be a part of the company, but even after all that had happened, I was still excluded."
"That's why you were so insistent on having fifty-one percent of Elliot's," she murmured. "So I couldn't do to you what your brother had done."
"Yes. I wanted to have control, because when Adrian and I were partners, I had none. He made all the decisions, and I could only stand by and watch him slowly send Chase into ruin. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. Adrian offered to buy me out. I took the money and left for America."
"I still don't understand. What does all this have to do with the vandals that broke into the factory?"
"Let me finish." He sighed and leaned back against the wall behind him. "At first, I didn't know what to do. I wandered around for several years, temporarily lost at sea, as it were, trying to figure out what to do with myself. I knew I could never be a part of Chase Toys again."
"So what did you do?"
"I worked for a few toy companies to support myself, but I started working on my own ideas again, at night, until I had enough new inventions for a product line of my own. Then, I took all the money I had and started my own toy company. It failed after a year."
"You told me about that," she reminded him gently.
"Yes, but I didn't tell you why." He took a deep breath. "I kept having problems. Suppliers wouldn't give me credit, shipments of parts kept being delayed, toys shipped to customers would never arrive. I kept pouring more and more cash into the business, but I finally ran out. The problems bankrupted me."
She stiffened. "I see."
"I just didn't want to start over." He paused, then added quietly, "All my life I'd been told I was a failure. I finally believed it, and I became convinced that success just wasn't in the cards for me."
She reached out and placed her hand over his. He looked at her and saw understanding in her eyes. He felt a glimmer of hope. "James came to see me. He said he wanted to talk about my ideas. I laughed at him, and told him to leave me alone. He didn't. He told me he wanted to manufacture some of my inventions and proposed a partnership. He believed in me when I didn't even believe in myself. Do you have any idea how much that meant to me?"
He didn't wait for an answer, but went on, "So, we agreed to be partners. James didn't have any capital, of course, and neither did I. To raise the money, I sold the patents on many of my inventions, except the train, of course, and the toys you saw in my flat that day. Then I came to London. You know the rest."
She started to speak, but he pulled his hand from hers and lifted it to stop her. He wanted to finish this, he had to finish it. "At first I didn't see the connection. But when our suppliers started demanding cash on delivery, I began to see what was happening. It was too much of a coincidence that a man should face the exact same difficulties twice."
"What are you saying?"
"It's Adrian, Mara. I think he was responsible for what happened to me before. Suppliers demanding cash up front, delayed shipments, lost product. He's bribing suppliers to delay shipments and refuse us credit. I think he hired someone to break into the factory."
"What? But why?"
"To make things difficult. To delay us. To prevent us from filling orders by Christmas. He can't stand the thought that I might succeed."
"Because we're a competitor?"
"No. Because I'm his brother."
"He hates you that much?"
"Oh, yes." He paused, not knowing how to explain. How could he make her understand what life with a brother like Adrian had been like? "My brother and I never rubbed along very well. He was always a bully, and when we were boys one of his favorite pastimes was tormenting me."
He looked up at her. "He did it because I let him. As a boy, I never had the courage to stand up to him. Rather than fight, I would walk away. If I received a toy for Christmas, and he wanted it, he took it. Because I let him. When we were in school, he'd destroy my textbooks. Pour ink on my papers. That sort of thing. Because I let him."
"We have to tell the police."
"I've already spoken to Finch. I don't have any evidence, but I've asked him to have the matter investigated, hoping he can find some sort of proof that Adrian is behind what's been happening here."
"But if you don't have evidence, what makes you think your brother is responsible?"
"I just know it. Call it instinct." In spite of everything, her skeptical expression made him want to smile.
"Oh, God." She bent her head and buried her face in her hands. "What shall we do?"
"Carry on. And succeed in spite of him."
Mara opened her mouth to protest, but he forestalled her. "Mara, listen to me. If Finch can find proof of what Adrian's been doing, we can bring charges against him. In the meantime, we have to put our trains in stores. Once the trains start selling, we'll have enough revenue that delays and vandalism won't cripple us. Finch is bound to find something linking Adrian to what's been happening to us eventually. My brother can't cover his tracks forever. We just have to hang on until then. We have to fight."
"No." She jumped to her feet, and he knew what she intended to say. "We can stop."
This was the moment he had known would come, the moment he dreaded. Nathaniel lifted his gaze to hers and saw the shadows in her eyes. "I can't," he said.
"Yes, we can." She turned away and began to pace back and forth across the room. "We haven't spent all the money. We can go back to making dynamos and generators again. We can repay part of the loan to Joslyn Brothers right now, and make arrangements to repay the rest over the next few months."
He listened to her suggestions, heard the desperation creep into her voice as she paced, and he wanted to give in. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and agree to whatever she asked of him. But slowly, he shook his head. "And let him win? No."
She stopped pacing to look over at him. "Nathaniel, your brot
her is a viscount. He's influential. He's wealthy and powerful. Even if Finch found evidence, what if it isn't enough? We can't fight him. We might make it through Christmas, or even the first year. But eventually, he'll destroy you." Her voice rose in panic. "He'll destroy both of us. We have to stop now."
"Don't you understand?" He rose to his feet, wishing he could make her see that he couldn't do what she wanted. "I've walked away every time Adrian has tried to intimidate me. I've let him win, I've let him steal away every hope and every dream I ever had. I will not do it again. If I fight him, he'll back down just like any other bully."
"You can't be certain of that. What if he doesn't? It
isn't just your own livelihood you're trifling with. It's mine, and that of all the other people who work here."
"And what would have happened to the livelihoods of all these people if I hadn't come along?"
"Nathaniel, please don't do this. I know how much making trains means to you, but—"
"No." He cut her off in midsentence. She might know, but she could not understand. This wasn't just about trains, this was about his life, his future. If he gave in to her fear, if he let Adrian win, he would face the same battle again and again for the rest of his life. If it wasn't trains, it would be something else. He could build dynamos, or make liver pills, or explore Africa, and it wouldn't matter. If it looked like he would succeed, Adrian would try to stop him. "I will not let my brother do this to me," he said stubbornly, walking toward her. "I cannot."
He walked past her, unable to look at her and see the fear in her eyes as she asked him to give up the only thing he had ever wanted.
But she followed him, walking over to where he stood and put a hand on his arm. "You told me you loved me."
Don't, he thought. Don't make me choose.
"Was it just words, Nathaniel?" she asked, her soft voice cutting through him like a knife. "Or did you mean it?"
The future he'd envisioned for them passed vividly across his mind, morning tea and lively debate, soft kisses and nights of lovemaking, waltzing with Mara, flying kites with her, watching her pull on her stockings. "I meant it," he finally said.
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