Fate's Intervention

by Barbara Woster

  What she wanted to do was take the bottle and slam it into her new husband’s skull and watch the liquid mingle with his blood as the life drained from his cold, unfeeling body. The urge to kill him had started on the train when he’d come into her room and pounced on her, before she’d even had a chance to finish removing her corset. Yes, she’d invited his attentions, in the hope of snaring a rich, young husband, but she hadn’t realized that intercourse would be so unpleasant and painful.

  After the forced matrimony, she’d made it clear to him that she had no intentions of bedding down with him again, but he’d merely laughed at her protestations and forced himself on her again and again, their whole entire honeymoon night, until she barely had the strength to rise the next morning.

  “Do you need help locating the bourbon, Elizabeth?” Mark asked, snapping her out of a daze.

  “No,” Elizabeth said shortly and pulled a glass from the rack above her head. She splashed the liquid into the glass, not bothering to clean up the small amount that splattered across the surface of the cabinet, and then turned and held it out for Mark. His grin, evil, sent a shiver along her spine, although she should be used to it by now. He reached over and snatched the glass from her hand, downing it in one swallow.

  “Another,” he snapped, tossing the glass in her direction.

  Elizabeth caught the glass and glared at her husband. She was about to give him what for when Matthew spoke up.

  “I think that one glass is enough for you, Mark,” he said, moving to close the cabinet and lock it.

  “So now you are going to deny me my drink, Brother?”

  “This is Mother’s home, Mark. Therefore, the liquor inside this cabinet belongs to her – and me, until I leave.”

  “I see. That still doesn’t explain why you locked me out of the house, which brings me back to asking why?

  “You have an apartment. I simply wanted to ensure that you remained there instead of trying to insinuate yourself here, while I conducted my business.”

  “I’m not a two-year-old child that you can manipulate at your whim, Matthew,” Mark snapped.

  “Well, you’re not here to argue that matter, Mark,” Matthew said, trying to keep provocative statements to a minimum. What he’d really wanted to say is that he behaved exactly like a two-year-old, most of the time, with his temper tantrums and immature behavior, and that he truly did need someone looking after his hide. Fortunately, that someone was not going to be him after he concluded his business this evening.

  “Exactly why am I here, pray tell?” Mark asked. He pulled his watch from his vest pocket and flicked it open. “Your letter merely said that it had something to do with the company. Have you signed the papers then, entitling me to full ownership?” He flipped the watch closed and returned it to his pocket, then leaned forward expectantly, a gleam lighting his eyes. The thought of finally getting his hands on Daragh Steel temporarily overshadowing his anger at his brother. He’d been waiting for this moment for, what seemed to him, eternally, and now it was about to fall in his lap. A knock on the door interrupted Matthew’s response and Mark sighed impatiently.

  “Come in!” Matthew called.

  The door opened and Jeremy popped his head in, “Dinner is served, sir.”

  “Thank you, Jeremy,” Matthew said, then faced his brother again. “It would appear that business is going to have to wait until after the meal.”

  “Surely you jest!” Mark said and leapt from the chair. “It should only take a moment to conclude our business and then Elizabeth and I can take our leave. I’ve reservations at the Chateau Margo, and I most certainly don’t want to be delayed.”

  “Mother arranged for you and Elizabeth to dine with us this evening, Mark,” Matthew said, and moved to where his mother sat, “and it would be extremely rude of you to accept a dinner invitation and then not stay for dinner.” He reached for his mother’s hand and helped her rise from her chair. “Besides, your mother hasn’t seen you in quite some time, nor has she had the opportunity to spend time with your new wife, so to bolt only moments after arriving goes against your upbringing, wouldn’t you say?” Without waiting for a reply, Matthew placed his mother’s hand in the crook of his arm and left the room, not bothering to see whether Mark and Elizabeth were following.

  Matthew would have liked nothing more had they been able to conclude their business prior to dinner, but he’d already known that wasn’t likely to happen. Neither did he particularly want his company at dinner. The last thing he needed was to attempt civil small talk across the table with Mark, when all he really wanted to do was to tie a chain around his ankles and drop him off the nearest bridge into a very deep lake. He was certain that Mark wasn’t pleased about spending time in his company either but he’d seen his mother’s reaction when Mark declared his intentions to leave so abruptly and wasn’t going to let Mark hurt her again.

  In reality, Lilith’s reaction had been one of relief at Mark’s announced intentions to leave. She’d seen the barely contained fury behind her youngest son’s eyes and dreaded having her two children in the same room with each other for any longer than was necessary. The more time they spent in each other’s company, the closer it came to bloodshed, she had not a doubt. Had Matthew not jumped to her defense so readily, she would have gracefully accepted her son’s excuse, and shown him to the door in all haste, but she wouldn’t humiliate Matthew’s chivalrous intentions like that. She couldn’t.

  As the four of them settled in at the dinner table, she said a quick prayer, and even added the sign of the cross as good measure, even though she’d been raised a Protestant. As far as she was concerned, she’d try every religion under the sun to ensure that God answered her prayers for an uneventful meal.

  It seemed to work. While dinner was a morbid affair and the conversation was nearly nonexistent, nothing untoward happened, and by the time the maid served the dessert, Lilith began to breathe a little easier. She did her best to be a gracious hostess, but no one responded to her endeavors more than one word at a time, so she finally abandoned the effort and simply finished her meal as quickly as the maid placed it before her. A quick glimpse at the others showed that they were inhaling their food just as quickly. She sighed audibly in relief.

  “Are you tired, Mother?” Matthew asked, returning a spoonful of crème brûlée to his plate.

  “Only slightly, dear,” Lilith admitted. “It has been a rather trying couple of days for me.”

  “Why don’t you go ahead and retire for the night? Mark and I obviously have business to conclude, and I’m sure Elizabeth can find something to amuse herself with until we’re done.”

  “Are you sure that would be all right, Elizabeth, dear? After all, this is your first visit to Daragh manor, and I feel I may be failing in my duties as hostess if I leave you to your own devices.”

  “Quite,” Elizabeth said shortly.

  “Very well,” Lilith said, sliding her chair back. Matthew got to his feet to assist her. “I’ll bid you all a good evening. I wish I could say that this has been a pleasant affair, but I find dishonesty reprehensible.”

  Mark and Elizabeth had the good sense to look abashed at the insult, but Matthew merely smiled and kissed his mother on the cheek.

  “Well, hopefully, all this will be behind us soon and we can get on with our lives,” he said, escorting her from the dining room. “If it will help any, try dwelling on our upcoming trip instead of all the unpleasant business affairs.”

  “You are a good boy, Matthew,” Lilith said, stopping at the foot of the stairs. “I don’t think I ever told you that, but you are.”

  “Thank you, Mother,” Matthew said. “I do try.”

  “I know. I also know that I’ve tried to persuade you on more than one occasion to return home, but I never really meant it. That’s why I never pressed harder than I did.”

  Matthew’s brow knitted at that, “Are you saying you don’t want me here?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m sayin
g,” Lilith said, “and before you go getting overly upset, I’m glad you left when you did and had the common sense to stay gone. You are who you are today because of that decision: a wonderful, caring, hardworking, moral man. In fact, I shudder to think what would have happened had you remained under your father’s sphere of influence. I love your brother, make no mistake. I brought him into this world just like you, but can you imagine there being two men like him in this world?” Matthew shuddered at that thought and Lilith laughed softly, “Exactly. Anyway, I told you that, because I wanted you to know that, while I was sad at not being able to see you more often, I would have been devastated if you’d returned.”

  “I love you, Mother,” Matthew said, giving her a tight hug.

  “I love you, too,” Lilith said, then pulled away, “and now I’ll leave you with one more warning before I go up those stairs. Be leery of your brother, Matthew,” she said, and then rose a hand to prevent the interruption that she knew was coming. “I know that you are a strong, capable man, but you don’t know Mark all that well, or what he’s capable of. Just promise me you will handle him with kid gloves.”

  “I promise that I will try to inform Mark of the sale of the business with concern for his sensitivity. Is that sufficient to put your mind at ease?”

  “Not really, for in reality, I fear that no matter how cautiously you handle the situation, Mark will not respond well.”

  “I will do what I can to ease his concerns, but he’s twenty-eight-years-old, Mother. Not a baby. If he can’t accept something without acting childish, then there’s hardly anything that I can do about that.”

  “Anything you can do about what, Matthew?” Mark said, exiting the dining room, Elizabeth in tow.

  “Nothing, Mark.”

  “Were you planning to leave us in the dining room all evening, by the way?” Mark asked.

  “I was just on my way to fetch you.”

  “Well, good night all,” Lilith said, heading up the stairs. “Do remember what I said, Matthew.”

  “I will mother,” Matthew replied. “Pleasant dreams.”

  “Good night, Mother,” Mark added, almost as an afterthought.

  Matthew waited until his mother reached the landing, then turned back to his brother, “Let’s move our business into the study. We have much to discuss. Elizabeth,” he continued, turning his attention toward Mark’s wife, “you go to the library, and wait for Mark. I’m sure you can find something suitable to read. My parents have an extensive library.”

  Without a word in response, Elizabeth turned away and headed in the direction that Matthew indicated. He could see that the few days she’d spent with Mark had already aged her beyond her years, and wished he could feel more pity for her, but she’d invited the situation and earned the consequences.

  “Shall we?” Matthew said, then turned and headed for the study. Despite the confidence that his decision regarding the company was the right one, his mother’s warning voice nagged at the back of his mind. Was his brother as unstable as she portrayed him to be? If so, where did he develop that trait?

  Yes, their father had been a driven man, determined to succeed and to protect the family’s name at all costs, but had he become unstable in his later years. Matthew wouldn’t know. He’d only visited his mother when she sent a telegram informing him that Edward was out of town. Still, Mark had to have obtained his personality characteristics from somewhere and that somewhere definitely wasn’t their mother.

  “Have a seat,” Matthew said the moment the study door closed, eager to conclude this nasty affair. He settled behind his father’s large oak desk and immediately pulled his Gladstone bag from beneath. He unfastened the straps and laid open the bag, then slid some papers from the compartment on the left.

  Mark’s impatience showed in the strumming of his fingers on the arm of his chair, “Could we get on with this? It’s a long ride back to town.”

  Matthew sighed, ignoring his brother’s baiting impatience. “The first set of documentation I need you to review will outline, in detail, the plans for Daragh Steel.” He slid the papers across the desk, but wasn’t surprised when Mark simply stared at them dumbly. “I duplicated the documentation as a courtesy for you, so you can read it now or take it with you.”

  Mark sat frozen. The way Matthew was talking held implications of something other than a simple signature turning possession of Daragh Steel over to him, as he anticipated. He shook his head to clear his thoughts so that he could hear what his brother was saying. He’d already missed the first part.

  “Because they’ve been running the company since father’s retirement ten years ago, it seemed only right . . . ,”

  “Wait a minute! What are you talking about? I’ve been running the company since Father’s retirement. Who are ‘they’?”

  “Okay, let’s start again,” Matthew said calmly, hoping that Mark’s certain outburst over the news that he’d sold Daragh Steel, would not disturb his mother’s much-needed rest. He took a deep breath and started again. “The board of directors combined their finances and bought Daragh Steel, and, as I was saying, they are better able to continue running a successful enterprise since they have been doing so since Father retired ten years ago.”

  “No! I’m head chair!” Mark argued. He snatched up the document and scanned the contents worriedly, hoping that perhaps he’d heard his brother wrong and the pages before him would refute what was being said, but it didn’t. The document he held outlined the sell in black and white. To make matters worse, it wasn’t just a proposal, but a done deal – signatures and all. He slung the papers across the desk and slammed his hands down against the solid surface, his face flushed with anger.

  “I’ve been in charge since Dad retired, and if someone told you otherwise, they’re lying! You should have signed control over to me!”

  “First of all, Mother is not a liar,” Matthew said quietly. “I’m aware of your excessive spending of company funds, and am quite surprised to find that Daragh Steel is still a profitable entity. Since the board, which also agrees with Mother’s assessment as to your value to the company, has indeed been in charge of the company since Father’s retirement, I saw no reason why they shouldn’t have the opportunity to divide the wealth that the company offers – all of it.”

  Matthew paused to allow Mark to comment, but he merely sat staring at Matthew in stunned disbelief. “Now, we’ll proceed to the matter of how the funds from the sell will be divided.” He pulled several sheaths of paper from the right side of the bag and slid them across the desk. As before, Mark simply stared at them dumbly. Matthew, however, continued on, deliberately pretending ignorance of his brother’s seething demeanor.

  “I’ve divided the document into three columns. At the top of the page, you will see the sum that the board paid for Daragh Steel, and it’s a rather handsome offer, as you can see. Twenty million dollars. Six million payable up front, the remaining fourteen million to be paid in installments of one million a year for fourteen years. Are you following me, thus far?”

  When Mark merely continued staring at him as if he’d sprouted horns, Matthew continued. “I will divide the initial six million, as outlined in each of the three columns. Mother, column one, will receive three million for her share and an additional five-hundred-thousand a year for the remaining fourteen years. This should allow her to travel extensively, which she’d always shown an interest in doing, as well as to live in the style in which she’s grown accustomed.

  I will receive two million from the initial payout and an additional four-hundred-thousand a year for the remaining fourteen years.”

  Mark glanced at the third column – his distribution – and snapped out of his daze.

  “You are out of your bleeding mind! You’re only giving me a million initially, and a mere hundred thousand a year thereafter? Who in hell do you think you are? I have a wife to support now, and a lifestyle to maintain. Damn you! My yearly expenses easily exceed that paltry sum,” Mark yelled, sl
amming his fist on the desktop again. He crumpled the paper and threw it at Matthew’s head.

  “Lower your voice, Mark, before you disturb Mother’s rest,” Matthew said quietly. “As to how I arrived at your portion. I simply estimated the amount that you borrowed from the company to support your rather lavish lifestyle over the last ten years, as well as an estimate of the monies that Father paid out to pay off the parents for your indiscretions, and deducted it. The only suggestion I have for your concerns, is that you curb your wild spending habits and learn to live on a frugal budget. After all, there’s a good chance that you will need to support more than a wife before long and wild spending and raising children do not go hand in hand.”

  “You son of a bitch!” Mark snarled and leapt across the desk, grasping Matthew by the shirt collar. “You won’t get away with this!”

  The sound of a rifle cock sounded close to Mark’s ear. He tried to turn his head, but the pressure of the muzzle prevented all but the slightest movement. When Mark continued gripping Matthew’s collar in a threatening manner, the pressure increased, sending an all-too-clear message – release Matthew or have his brains splattered across the desktop.

  “You may want to return to your seat, Mark,” Matthew said softly and Mark reluctantly retreated. “Thank you, Jeremy,” Matthew said, addressing his butler. “I do believe that my brother has the message, so you may leave now.”

  “Very good, sir,” Jeremy said and laid the rifle beside the desk within Matthew’s reach, still cocked. “I’ll be just outside, sir. Just in case I’m needed.”

  “Thank you again, Jeremy,” Matthew said. He lifted the rifle and laid it across his lap. He didn’t doubt that, given the chance, his brother would make a leap at it and shoot his head off.

  Matthew brought his attention to bear on his brother again, “That was a rather foolish attempt, Mark,” he said, straightening his shirt. “As it stands, you should realize that I’m being more than reasonable in this business, as I stayed on the low end for my estimations. If I’d have gone by the figures given me by the board, I would have reduced your share considerably.”