“You’ll love Marcelle, Mom,” Matthew said, a twinkle in his eyes, “if you can handle a sarcastic wit, that is.”
Lilith laughed lightly, “Her wit couldn’t be too horrible if she managed to snare you, dear. Besides, better to have some wit than no wit at all. In fact, I’m glad she has a little spunk in her, as you say. I do grow tired of all the brainless twits that Mark hauls through here on a regular basis.”
“Well, you needn’t worry on that account. She’s one of the most intelligent women that I’ve ever encountered. In fact,” Matthew bragged, “she’s the one that proposed the new venture we’re starting this coming spring.”
“Impressive indeed. Witty and smart. I like her already. What about Mark? Did he fare well in the wife department?” Lilith asked. “I mean, even though the wedding was . . . well . . . you know. Certainly the girl has some appealing qualities that drew Mark to her in the first place.”
She has appealing qualities, all right, Matthew thought – young, virginal, and willing. To his mother, however, he said, “Um, I think it only fair that I let you judge Elizabeth for yourself. Who knows, maybe you can provide a good influence on the young lady. She doesn’t have a mother either.”
“Well, if that isn’t an evasive answer, I don’t know what is. Perhaps you should consider a career in politics.”
“Sorry, Mother, it just wouldn’t be fair to Elizabeth for me to assess her suitability for you. After all, she did attempt to entrap me before she even knew about Mark, and when I turned her down . . . well, you know the rest.”
“Ah, it doesn’t sound too promising for the young lady,” Lilith said thoughtfully. In fact, she thought it sounded like the gold digging type of female she’d wrongly assumed Matthew had gotten himself entangled with. Well, Mark probably deserved the girl.
“You can be certain, at least, that she’s not after Mark’s money, since her father is wealthy in his own right,” Matthew said, as if reading his mother’s thoughts. “In fact, Mr. Stanharbor offered me quite a handsome dowry if I would take Elizabeth off his hands.”
“Ooh, that doesn’t sound pleasant at all. What’s wrong with the dear? Is she horribly disfigured, or something?”
“No, quite the opposite. She’s very lovely, for a fourteen-year-old child. Her father simply thought that I was a poverty-stricken individual who would be impressed by his offer. I wasn’t.”
“Nor were you obviously impressed with Elizabeth.”
“Well, like I said,” Matthew evaded again, “it’s probably best if you wait and judge her for yourself.”
“Mmm. I guess I’d better make arrangements to pay them a visit – and quite soon,” Lilith murmured, her curiosity peaked.
Matthew laughed, “Since I’ve sent an invitation around to their apartment for dinner tomorrow evening, I think you’ll be able to make her acquaintance at that time.”
“What makes you think that Mark will join us for dinner?” Lilith asked. “If, as you say, he’s put out with you over the handling of his affairs, so much so that he couldn’t even darken my door upon his return to the city, then what makes you think that a simple invitation will bring him to his senses.”
“I made certain to attach a letter to the invitation regarding the future of Daragh Steel. He’ll show.” Matthew said confidently.
“What about the future of Daragh Steel?” Lilith asked.
“Well, as my mother,” Matthew said, “I feel I owe you an explanation of my intentions before I pay a visit to the attorney tomorrow; however, I want you to know that the decision I’ve come to is final, so I’d rather you not try to dissuade me from it once I’ve laid out the details.”
“Mmm, that sounds rather ominous,” Lilith said, peering at her son through narrowed eyes.
“For me, it’ll be a tremendous relief, but for you and Mark . . . ,” Matthew stopped and lowered his head as if deep in thought.
“Matthew, what is it that you intend to do, Son?”
“I’ve had an offer on Daragh Steel, and I intend to take it,” Matthew said, hoping his mother wouldn’t fight him on the decision.
“When? You’ve only just returned last night?” Lilith said, truly stunned by her son’s announcement.
“I left early this morning, before you had risen, to have a meeting with the board of directors. They have offered to purchase the company as an entity and continue running things as before. The offer they’ve made is a rather handsome one, so you needn’t worry that you won’t be taken care of suitably.”
“I’m hardly concerned over my welfare, Matthew,” Lilith chastised lightly. “I had no doubt you would do what was best for all parties involved. My concern is Mark.”
“I know,” Matthew sighed. “I’m fully aware that’s he’s been running Daragh Steel for the last ten years . . . ,”
“Not so. The board of directors took care of the business, Matthew. Your brother merely took advantage of his position as future owner, to influence people and open doors to society. He’s paved a nice little golden street to all the influential homes in New York, using company money.”
“Now how come that doesn’t surprise me?” Matthew snapped, running a hand through his dark, wavy hair. “Well, that’s going to cease, let me tell you.”
“I’m listening.” Lilith felt a momentary guilt that she’d tattled on her youngest son, but she couldn’t see him given complete reign of Daragh Steel without trying to prevent it first, and as Matthew outlined his plans, her only concern was how Mark was going to deal with his brother’s executive decisions.
“When are you going to tell Mark?” Lilith asked, a concerned frown knitting her brow.
“Tomorrow night at dinner. That’s why I wanted to make sure he accepted the invitation. By then, the deal will be finalized with the attorney and he won’t have any choice but to accept his lot.”
“You’re giving your brother far more credit than I would,” Lilith said, the worry lines around her eyes increasing.
“How so?”
“Mark isn’t the type to accept part when he could’ve had all.”
“Well, he’ll have to accept part, or he’ll end up with none.” Matthew said. “By the way, can I ask you something?”
“Anything, Son.”
“Why am I still head of Daragh Steel, or should I ask why didn’t Dad take me out of his will and turn over leadership to Mark? After all, I did vanish when I was eighteen, and never attempted to remain in contact with him. I have to admit when Mark turned up on the Weatherman’s doorstep and mentioned that I needed to turn over ownership to him, I was a little taken aback.”
“I can’t give you a ‘for certain’ answer,” Lilith said, “but I can speculate with a high degree of accuracy.”
“I’m listening.”
“Well, your Dad did mention a time or two that he was going to cut off your inheritance, since you never attempted to contact him, but I think that deep down he hoped you’d return one day. Also, I don’t think he really wanted Daragh Steel to fall permanently into the hands of your brother, which is another reason he kept control in your hands.”
“I see,” Matthew said thoughtfully. “In a way, I rather hoped that things would have worked out, but after what he and Mark did, I just couldn’t see . . . ,”
“I know, Son,” Lilith smiled sadly, “and you don’t have to explain a thing to me. I’m on your side in this, remember?”
“Thanks, Mom,” Matthew said, then placed a light kiss on his mother’s cheek. “Now, if you will please excuse me, Mother dear, I need to fire off a telegram to Marcelle and let her know I’ll be returning much sooner than previously thought.”
“How long did you tell them that you’d be away?” Lilith asked as he made his way toward the door.
“Months, but thanks to the board’s decision to purchase the company, I won’t have to spend time searching for a buyer, and I can be out of here before the end of the week. Should I include that you’ll be accompanying me?”
“N
ot if you plan to leave at the end of the week!” Lilith screeched. “I can’t possibly be ready to travel in one-week’s time!”
“Oh, mother!” Matthew laughed, “I’m sure if you start packing now, you’ll be ready at least an hour before the train departs.”
“Oh, pooh,” Lilith snapped, pushing her son out the door, “go send your telegram and leave your old mother alone, and yes, tell them I’ll be joining you. I wouldn’t miss meeting your fiancé for anything in the world! I just wish you’d given this old lady more time to plan.”
Matthew headed for the front door, his laughter increasing as he heard his mother shouting for the maid to bring her trunk in from storage – leaving him to wonder whether it would indeed take her a week to pack.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Father, I received Matthew’s telegram,” Marcelle said, running into the study.
“Marcelle, dear, you really do need to learn to curb your enthusiasm,” her father chided. He replaced the china teacup on the saucer sitting atop the desk, and then retrieved the linen napkin from his lap and dabbed up the tea that splashed over the mahogany top at her gregarious intrusion.
“I’m sorry, Father. It’s just I’m glad to hear from him is all,” Marcelle said. “Would you like me to clean that up for you?”
“No, I want you to read the telegram before you have apoplexy.”
Marcelle giggled and unfolded the document that only moments before arrived via a private messenger.
“Wow! This is a long one,” she said. “It must have cost a fortune to send.”
“Would you read it already?”
“Oh, sorry,” she grinned and then started reading, “‘Have arrived safely. Stop. Have interesting news to relay. Stop. Will be returning much sooner than first thought. Stop. Bringing Mother with me. Stop. Train arrives next Thursday. Stop. Love Matthew. End.’“
“Love, Matthew, eh?” Her father said, and grinned at the blush that filled his daughter’s alabaster cheeks. “So, that’s the way of it, is it?”
“Well, truth be told, Father,” Marcelle said, folding the telegram and sliding it in her skirt pocket, “I don’t know the way of it yet. Matthew merely said that he’d discuss things with me when he returned.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Well, I’m glad you do, because the only clue that I have that he holds any affection for me at all is in this telegram,” Marcelle blushed, knowing that she wasn’t being entirely truthful with herself, or her father. Matthew had clearly shown his affection for her the morning he left for New York.
“And if you believe that, my darling daughter, then you’re daft in the head.”
“You do realize that you’ve just insulted me,” Marcelle said, matter-of-factly.
“Well, if you can’t see that the boy is smitten with you, then you are daft in the head.”
Marcelle lowered her head and gazed at her hands. She clasped them nervously in her lap, “I can see it, Father,” she admitted softly. “I only hope he doesn’t keep fighting it the way he has been or I’ll go insane before he gets up the gumption to propose, and for the record – he’s far from being a boy.”
“Well, if you want my sound bit of reasoning, that man isn’t bringing his mother here for her health, darling dear, so you best be pulling your mother’s wedding dress out of storage, and getting it all spiffed up.”
“Don’t you think it’s a bit premature for that, Father?” Marcelle’s blush intensified. “After all, he hasn’t even hinted at marriage, so to presume he intends to propose could prove disastrous. As for his mother, she could very well be coming for a visit. She is a widow now.”
“Stubborn girl!”
Marcelle smiled, “I do get it from somewhere, you know.”
“That you do,” her father laughed. “So, Thursday is a whole week away. What do you plan to do with yourself until then?”
“Well, first, I thought I’d pull Mother’s wedding dress out of storage . . . ,” Marcelle ducked as her father’s china cup flew toward her head, and with a laugh, she ran from the room.
Her father smiled as he heard her whistling softly to herself. He picked up the tune and began whistling as well. His whistling turned into a happy humming when he replayed the visit to his doctor’s just that morning . . . .
“Mmm, your heartbeat sounds exceedingly strong, and skin color has improved to the point of normalcy,” the doctor murmured thoughtfully.
“What are you telling me, doctor?” Peter asked, pulling his clothing back on.
“How have you been feeling lately?” The doctor hedged, unwilling to give him a spontaneous diagnosis without running more tests.
“I’ve felt better these past few weeks than I have for the past few years, I’ll tell you that much.”
“Well, you certainly look better than you have the past few years. Amazing.”
“What’s amazing, Doctor? Would you stop two stepping around the subject and get to what has you all pudding headed?”
The doctor laughed, “Sit down, Peter. I think I have some good news for you. . . .”
Peter stood up and moved around the side of the desk, picking up pieces of the china cup that he’d hurled at his daughter. If the doctor had been right, he was going to live to a ripe old age. The only request the doctor had made was that Peter allow him to run a few more tests to confirm his diagnosis and then he could share the news with the world, he said, but the only world Peter was interested in was standing upstairs – singing.
“I may get to enjoy some grandchildren after all,” he said softly, and then he picked up the tune that drifted to his ears and began singing along.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
A loud banging noise resounded through the manor, startling Lilith, “Good heavens! What is that racket?”
“I’d have to say that your son has arrived,” Matthew said, downing the remainder of his bourbon in one swallow. He shuddered violently, wondering vaguely if the fiery liquid hitting his empty stomach caused the reaction, or if it were because of his brother’s visit.
“Does he have to break the door down to announce his arrival? Why not just come in, for heaven’s sakes?” His mother said, covering her ears against the incessant pounding.
“Because I confiscated his key when we were on the train,” Matthew grinned slyly, “and was mindful to lock the front door when I returned from the attorney’s office this afternoon. Jeremy, would you mind answering that, please?”
“Very good, sir,” the butler bowed, leaving Matthew alone with his mother for a moment.
“Are you trying to anger him unduly, Son?” Lilith whispered, leaning close to Matthew’s chair.
“Mark’s anger hardly concerns me, Mother. I’m a big boy, you know. I think I can handle Mark’s temper tantrums.”
Lilith sighed. Matthew was a big boy, but Mark’s temper was notorious in and around Rochester. In fact, those very tantrums had landed him in custody on more than one occasion and his victim in the hospital or morgue. She started to enlighten Matthew, but the door swung open admitting the arrivals.
The look that Mark gave Matthew, before turning his attention toward her, made her worry even more. There was danger in that look. He may not have Matthew’s physical build, but there was more than one way to harm someone, and if anyone knew devious methods of retribution, it was her youngest son. He was more like her late husband than Matthew was. Matthew was wrong about one thing – she did pay attention to the rumor mill. It was the only way she could keep abreast of her son’s antics – since Edward kept her in the dark.
“Mother,” Mark said, placing a quick peck on her cheek. “It’s good to see you looking so fit.”
“Mark, welcome home, Son,” Lilith said, nodding stiffly. He’d never responded well to over-affectionate behavior, so she didn’t give it, “and this must be your lovely new bride, Elizabeth,” she said, moving around her son and taking Elizabeth’s hands in her own. “Welcome to our home, dear. I do hope you’ll be happy as a member of
our family,” she greeted solicitously, but Elizabeth’s return smile was tight and her blue eyes were cold.
Well, Lilith thought, I needn’t worry that this young lady is too fragile to handle Mark. It would appear that she has her own foreboding personality. “Yes, well,” she said and turned toward Matthew, rolling her eyes in a childish fashion.
Matthew grinned thinly. Judgment decided, if his mother’s expression was any indication. Elizabeth had obviously made the same poor impression on his mom as she had on him.
“Where’s your father this evening, Elizabeth?” He asked cordially.
“He made reservations elsewhere,” she answered vaguely. When no further information was forthcoming, he turned his scrutiny on his brother. He truly looked perturbed.
“I do believe an explanation is in order, Matthew,” Mark said, planting himself in his mother’s rocking chair.
“Exactly what explanation do you feel you’re entitled to, Mark?” Matthew asked, moving toward the liquor cabinet and pouring himself more bourbon. He knew he should ask if Mark or Elizabeth wanted something, but he didn’t feel very mannerly towards them, so he just splashed some of the golden liquid into his own glass and moved to take a seat on the couch.
Lilith could feel the tension build in the room, winced, and backed away, taking a seat near the patio doors. A little voice in her head warned that this was not going to be a pleasant evening and that it may deteriorate into fisticuffs before the night was over. She had not a doubt that Matthew would win any hand-to-hand competition, but the after effects worried her more. What would Mark’s reaction be to it all on the morrow?
“Well, for starters, you can explain why you felt the need to lock me out of my own home, without benefit of returning my key first. Get me a drink Elizabeth. Bourbon,” Mark demanded without even glancing Elizabeth’s way. Elizabeth flinched visibly at the order, and shot a look at Lilith. Lilith smiled encouragingly, but Elizabeth merely raised her chin a notch and rose haughtily from her chair. She glided toward the liquor cabinet and pulled it open, scanning the labels with a cool reserve that did not match the fire raging in her veins.
Fate's Intervention Page 21