Two sets of boots tapped on the hard floor of the entryway as Oliver followed the butler to a massive oak door. With a groan, the door opened on old hinges. Oliver stepped inside, was introduced by the butler, and within seconds, was alone in the study with Mr. Ashbrook.
Lucy’s father.
Time to convince this man that I am the only man for Lucy, and she is the only woman for me.
Mr. Ashbrook glanced up from his desk. “Ah. Mr. Shipley. I’m honored to have you visit my home. I must say, however, that I’m at a loss as to the reason. I know of your father by reputation of course, but…”
Oliver removed his hat. “Please permit me a few minutes of your time, Mr. Ashbrook, and I will answer your questions in short order.”
“Very well. Please. Have a seat, won’t you?”
As Oliver nodded and took a seat, he willed away his nervousness. This is for Lucy’s hand. Get a grip on yourself! Perspiration pooled beneath his gloves, shirt, and cravat. Hopefully Mr. Ashbrook wouldn’t notice his discomfort. Now was not the time to show weakness. It was the time for strength, surety, and forthrightness.
Mr. Ashbrook retrieved a cigar from his humidor. He held it out to Oliver.
“No. Thank you.” He waved it away. “But please, don’t let that stop you from enjoying one, sir.”
“I believe I will.”
Oliver breathed slowly in and out. In and out. Swallowing the dryness away from his throat as he waited for the older man to light his cigar and take the first puff. Acrid smoke curled from the end of the cigar, forming a tiny white cloud that floated toward Oliver’s nose. Never having been one to be fond of the rancid-smelling things, he closed his eyes and held his breath briefly, willing the stench to sail past him across the room. Relief wafted through him when the cigar was tapped on an ashtray on the other side of Mr. Ashbrook and set aside.
Finally, Mr. Ashbrook turned toward Oliver. “How can I help you today, Mr. Shipley?” He rubbed his hands together… as one might in the throes of greed. What was he about?
“Mr. Ashbrook… sir… I’ve come to discuss… your daughter.”
He frowned. “Lucy? What has she done now?”
Oliver tilted his head. Why would her father’s first assumption be that she was at fault for something? “She hasn’t done anything. That is, nothing negative.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Let me rephrase that. I’ve had the pleasure of making your daughter’s acquaintance.”
“Oh?”
“And…” He cleared his throat. The blasted cravat seemed tighter than when he’d entered the house. “And she… well, sir, she and I…” Was the temperature rising? He glanced at Mr. Ashbrook, who seemed oblivious to any changes in the atmosphere of the room.
“Yes… you and she…?” He crossed his arms over his barrel chest. Why was it only now that Oliver noticed how large of a man Mr. Ashbrook was?
Oliver swallowed. “You see, sir, I had the pleasure of meeting Lu— Miss Ashbrook at the Bird Sanctuary.”
“Oh. Yes. I’ve been hearing quite a lot about that place. And how was it you happened to meet? I’m afraid she hasn’t mentioned you.”
“I…” Here was the portion Oliver dreaded. Admitting that he’d been using his mother’s maiden name. “I’ve been… working there.”
Mr. Ashbrook leaned forward and furrowed his bushy eyebrows. “Work? At the Sanctuary? In what capacity, might I ask?”
“As… a laborer.”
He sat back, expelling a smoky breath. “You don’t say? Extraordinary. And what does your good father think of this… laboring.”
“Not much.”
“I should think not.”
This wasn’t going well. And they were completely away from the subject Oliver had come to discuss. “Excuse me, sir, but I believe the conversation has taken a turn from my intended direction.”
Mr. Ashbrook was still shaking his head and frowning. “Oh. Yes. Something about my daughter. Please, continue.”
“I met her… your daughter, just a few weeks ago. And… I’ve come to—”
A light knock sounded on the door.
Mr. Ashbrook rolled his eyes. “Excuse me, please, Mr. Shipley.” He raised his voice toward the door. “Yes? What is it?”
The doorknob turned and the door slid open with a noisy creak. And in the doorway, looking more beautiful than a woman had any right to look, stood Lucy.
“Oh, excuse me, Father. I didn’t realize you had…” Lucy’s gaze fell on Oliver. Her dark eyes widened and her full pink lips formed the letter O. “O-Oliver?”
He stood and nodded. “Good day, Lu— Miss Ashbrook.”
She closed her mouth, but her eyes, those glorious eyes, stayed wide open. “I almost didn’t recognize… why are you dressed in… I don’t know what to…”
Mr. Ashbrook stood as well. “Lucy, stop babbling. Was there something you wanted?”
She frowned. Shaking her head, back and forth, back and forth, she pointed behind her toward the hall. “The new mare has been delivered, Father… I thought perhaps you’d like to…” Her eyes had never left Oliver’s. She stared, unblinking.
With a sigh, her father tapped his foot. “Can’t you see this is not the proper time, girl?” His gruff voice startled even Oliver.
Lucy bit her lip and nodded. “Yes. Yes of course. I’ll just be… going then.”
She backed toward the open doorway, not watching her steps. Collided into the doorframe, tripped, and then turned and scurried around the corner.
Mr. Ashbrook grumbled as he stomped toward the door. He slammed it shut. “Foolish girl doesn’t know her left from her right. Please excuse the interruption.”
He indicated the settee where they’d previously been, and they both sat. Oliver’s blood boiled. How dare Ashbrook speak to her, the woman he loved, in such a condescending way? True, he was her father, her guardian, but didn’t she at least deserve respect in front of a visitor?
Fighting the impulse to clench his fists, his thoughts flittered about, trying to light upon the best way to address the situation. He’d love to pummel the man, but that wouldn’t help him toward his objective. Still, he could see that finesse would not help him with this man. The troglodyte. The troll. How did Lucy put up with him? He’d need to be direct.
“Mr. Ashbrook, as I tried to explain before, I’ve made the acquaintance of your daughter recently and—”
“Yes. I noticed her reaction when she finally recognized you. Must not be very well acquainted if she hardly knew you.”
“There’s a reason for that.”
“Which would be…?”
“When I met her at the Sanctuary, I didn’t appear as I do now.”
He snapped his fingers as if just remembering something. “And you said you worked there?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Ashbrook frowned and his eyebrows lowered until nothing remained between them and the tops of his eyes. “What’s the meaning of this? Are you trying to pass yourself off as something you’re not? Are you that Barrows fellow I keep hearing about?”
“Barrow, yes sir. One and the same. But—”
“Get out.”
“Excuse me?”
“Out of my house. I don’t know whether you’re trying to pull one over on me by saying you know my daughter in hopes of gaining access to my fortune, but you can put that thought from your head.”
“I assure you, I don’t need your money.”
He stood abruptly. “Alfred!”
The door opened immediately. Had the meddlesome butler been listening at the door? “Yes, Mr. Ashbrook?”
“Escort Mr. Barrow or whatever his name is out. Now.”
He wheeled around and glared at Oliver. “I don’t ever want to see you in my house again.”
Chapter Fourteen
Lucy paced across her bedroom floor. Her boots squeaked on the wood each time she turned to walk in the opposite direction.
“Lucy, you’ll wear holes in your boots. Or the floo
r.” Anna shrugged. “Maybe both.”
“I can’t help it. What was Oliver doing in Father’s study? And you should have seen his attire. Top hat sitting in his lap, beautiful black coat, shiny Hoby boots.”
“Where do you suppose he acquired such clothing? I’ve never seen him in anything but old clothes at the Sanctuary. Much like Richard wears.”
She sighed. “I haven’t a clue. It makes no sense, Anna. And why was he speaking to Father? They wouldn’t have any business to conduct that I could imagine. There’s something strange going on.”
“Perhaps he wanted to speak to your father about a position in his employ.”
“But he loves his work at the Sanctuary. And those clothes. They looked so expensive. Where would a laborer have gotten them?”
“Maybe he borrowed them from someone.”
“I thought of that. But I couldn’t imagine who he would know well enough to ask such a favor.”
“It’s a mystery.”
“Quite.”
“Could you ask your father?”
“You mean just march down to his study and ask outright?” Lucy shook her head. “No. Well, I could… but I doubt he’d tell me. And I’d be made to sound a fool simply for asking.”
“That much is true.” Anna’s face reddened. “Oh…”
“No, it’s fine. You know all that goes on around here, and I trust you. Yes, I love my father but he can be as hard to deal with as a goose with a sore bill.”
Anna widened her eyes. A giant smile crept across her lips. “A sore bill, you say? And how do you suppose a goose would—?”
Lucy threw her hands in the air and laughed. “I have no idea. That silly thought just popped into my head. I seem to be thinking in terms of bird references these days.”
“I find myself doing the same.”
“Well, you should be, since your husband-to-be works there.”
“I still can believe it. Me! Married!”
“You deserve it.”
“As do you, my dear.”
“But do I deserve who Father wants for me?”
“No, I didn’t intend…”
“I know you didn’t. I’m trying my best not to dwell on it, but it’s so difficult. Cr-that man slithers into my thoughts whether invited or not.”
“Sounds like a snake of some sort.”
“Oh, I think that’s exactly what he is. Slimy.”
“Scaly.”
“Cold-blooded.”
“Frightening to behold.”
Lucy giggled. “Thanks, Anna. If I cannot make light of my predicament, I fear I shall go mad.”
Anna reached over and squeezed her hand. “You know you’re like a daughter to me. I only want you to be happy. And I truly believe you would be happy with Oliver.”
Sudden hot tears burned behind her eyelids. Gone was the merriment of only seconds ago. “So do I. It’s my heart’s desire.”
“I know.”
“What should I do? What recourse do I have?”
A frown marred Anna’s plump face. “I guess your choices are… marry the snake, or—”
“Or?”
“Run off with Oliver and marry him.”
“Then I would not receive Father’s inheritance. Not that it’s important to me, but I had counted on it to share with Oliver if he… if I… we…”
Anna reached out and ran her index finger down Lucy’s cheek. “If you choose to run off with Oliver, be prepared to live the life of the working class.”
Like you will. Like you always have. “How selfish I sound, Anna. Please forgive me.”
“Nothing to forgive. You only know life as you’ve lived it. Here. In this house, wanting for nothing. How could anyone expect you to think in terms of something different?”
“I suppose.”
“But… you may have to start thinking… that way.”
“Yes. Yes, you’re right. And I love Oliver so much more than I could ever love this house. These things.” She plucked her fingers at the sash of her dress. “What happiness can they bring me if my heart is broken?”
Anna smiled. “I do believe my little girl is growing up.”
Lucy returned the smile. “I guess it was bound to happen sometime.”
“I’m so proud of you, Lucy.”
“I haven’t done anything to earn it.”
“Oh yes you have. You’re making a difficult but wise decision about your future. That’s something to be very proud of.”
Warmth encircled Lucy’s heart. She was so blessed to have had Anna’s love and support since her mother had died. “What do you think I should do now? I’m forbidden from leaving the house.”
“But I’m not. Perhaps I can get a message from you to Oliver, through Richard.” She leaned closer and looked around, as if someone might overhear, though they were alone in the room. Alfred, though, had been known to hover at keyholes, listening to other’s conversations. “Listen, there’s something I must tell you.”
“What?”
“Richard asked me why you hadn’t been at the Sanctuary during the time he and I were away. It seems Oliver wanted to know. He was worried about you.”
“Oh!” She placed her hands on her face. “And I haven’t been able to tell him why.”
“I haven’t spoken to Richard since then, as that was only yesterday, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Richard told him of your impending marriage to… you know.”
“This is terrible! He must think me the worst sort of friend. It must seem to him such a betrayal.”
She patted Lucy’s hand. “Now, now. Let’s not get too upset.”
“Anna, my entire future rests on me not marrying that reptile!”
“We don’t even know if there’s been a date set for the wedding.”
Shivers ran down Lucy’s arms at the word. Because it was connected to Conrad. “If I know my father, it will be soon. He wants this…” She swallowed. “…union between me and Conrad, so he’ll find a way to make it happen. And it’s not as if he even likes Conrad. He’s doing it for the benefit of his business.”
“I suspected as much.”
“It’s horrible, nasty business, all of it.”
“Agreed.”
“If only…”
“If only, what?”
“If Oliver were wealthy, none of this would matter. Father would be happy to let me marry the person of my choosing if it benefitted him.”
“But we know that’s not the case, since he works at the Bird Sanctuary.”
“I know. A girl can dream, though.”
“Not a girl anymore. A woman. A woman can dream.” She ran her hand down Lucy’s arm. “It will work out. Somehow. Some way.”
“I just don’t see how. I just don’t.”
~~~~
Kirby appeared in the doorway. “Sir, your visitor has arrived.”
Oliver’s father waved his hand. “Show him in, please.”
“Very good.” Footsteps echoed across the entryway as the butler left on his mission.
“Do you really think this might work?” Oliver swallowed hard. He’d failed, miserably, in his quest to ask for Lucy’s hand from her father.
“Son, if I can believe Mr. Ashbrook’s reputation as a greedy man, and I think that I can, he will be salivating at our offer once he hears.”
“But what if he doesn’t? What if—?”
A knock sounded on the door.
“Come in.” Oliver’s father remained seated in his chair by the fireplace, as he was too weak to stand for very long at present, but his expression told of someone who would not suffer fools. Trifle with him or his family, and there would be consequences.
Oliver only hoped to someday be half the man his father was. He darted across the room for the right moment to reveal himself.
The heavy wooden door opened slowly. To Oliver, it signified a possible opening to his future. To the rest of the life with the woman he loved. Please, please let it be so.
Kirby stepped in. “Mr.
Ashbrook to see you, sir.”
Oliver’s father nodded. But only once.
When Kirby stepped aside to allow Mr. Ashbrook to enter, Oliver’s mouth went dry. Would Lucy’s father throw a conniption fit when he recognized Oliver? Would he yell again about him being an imposter?
Oliver glanced about the room, at the furnishings and pictures he’d always known. He was in his own home. Mr. Ashbrook would have to respect that. Oliver glanced toward his father. And he will make sure Lucy’s father behaves in his presence.
A tall man with large shoulders and a ruddy complexion entered the room. Kirby shut the door, leaving them alone. Mr. Ashbrook stood rooted in place just inside the door, openly admiring the furnishings. He had an exquisite home of his own. Why did his expression look like someone who’d never had a penny to his name? Perhaps it was as Father had said. Mr. Ashbrook was greedy. Always wanting something that he’d yet to acquire. Something just out of reach.
“Good morning, Mr. Ashbrook. Thank you for coming.” Oliver’s father indicated the settee to his right. “Please, won’t you have a seat?”
Lucy’s father cleared his throat and stepped farther into the room. He nodded and sat down but still had not spoken. Could it be possible that he was nervous? In awe of Father?
That played into their plan very well, then. Oliver watched all of this from behind a large fern, just out of sight of Mr. Ashbrook. His father would signal him when the time was right to step out.
Father clasped his hands in his lap and smiled. “How does the day find you, Mr. Ashbrook?”
Swiveling his head back from further gawking out the window at the huge back garden, Lucy’s father startled. Was he so enamored of what he saw that he’d forgotten Father was sitting there? “Oh… f-fine. Yes. Fine. Uh… thank you for inquiring.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Father sat still and said no more. Beforehand, he’d told Oliver this was an old trick to get your adversary to start babbling on about everything and nothing. Put them further ill at ease if you stayed silent for a time.
Mr. Ashbrook tapped his finger on his knee. He made brief eye contact with Oliver’s father and smiled. Just as quickly, though, he slid his gaze to the floor. His smile melted from his face, leaving a frown and lowered eyebrows. Surely he was confused as to why he’d been summoned?
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