The American Heiress Brides Collection

by Carter, Lisa; Davis, Mary; Dietze, Susanne

  Graham grimaced. “I’ll take care of Claremont.”

  How sweet of him to want to protect her, but he would only fuel Lord Claremont’s determination, who would probably threaten Graham as well. “Don’t bother. I know how to deal with him.” Once and for all.

  Chapter 8

  Graham shook his head. “I can’t believe you invited that man here, to your home.” What was she thinking? Lord Hugh Claremont? The man who was trying to force her to marry him by threatening all other suitors and pressuring schools and parents not to hire her?

  Victoria stood before Graham in a plain cotton black blouse and black wool skirt. Not her usual stylish attire. No trims, no ruffles, no bobbles. She almost looked like a peasant. But she carried herself with a grace and dignity that bespoke her station.

  She gave her chin a slight tilt. “First, I did it to have the upper hand. My territory.”

  Smart.

  “Second, this isn’t my home but my uncle’s. If I don’t marry, it will be gone. Still not mine. If I do marry, it will become my husband’s property and still won’t be mine. So this house never was nor ever will be mine.”

  How unfair. He’d never thought about it, but her husband would own everything if she married. No wonder she wasn’t keen on marrying except for love. That would be the only way she could ensure with any amount of certainty that she would be treated well.

  Could he draft a contract which would allow her to keep everything in her name should she marry? It depended on how tight the second half of the will was. And if the man she married would agree to sign it and abide by it. Doubtful. What man would marry her for all this and then give it all up?

  She smoothed her hands down her skirt. “Now, you must remain out of sight while his lordship is here. He mustn’t know you are even in the house.”

  “I’m not going to leave you alone in a room with him.”

  “He can’t be allowed to see you. I’ll be perfectly safe.” She walked down the hallway to a second, smaller door in an alcove that led into the parlor. “You can listen from here.”

  He didn’t like this one bit. But he was interested in what she would say to Lord Claremont. “Very well. But if I suspect you are in any sort of trouble, I’m going to break up the meeting.”

  “I won’t be in any trouble.”

  He followed her downstairs and into the kitchen where several servants congregated, including Mr. Dent.

  Victoria faced the butler. “Foster, make sure Lord Claremont feels very welcome.”

  The butler nodded.

  “Mrs. Fuller.” Victoria turned to the housekeeper. “Wait a few minutes after Lord Claremont arrives to serve the tea.”

  “Certainly.” The housekeeper set the sugar bowl and creamer on the prepared tray.

  Victoria picked up the two cups and inspected them. She opened the china cabinet and returned the cups there, then picked up one cup after another and selected two. “Give this one to his lordship when you pour the tea and this one to me.”

  Graham noticed that the two cups had chips on the rims. What was the little minx up to?

  Muriel scuttled in. “He’s coming up the driveway.”

  Victoria straightened her shoulders and nodded to Mr. Dent, who hurried out of the room. “It’s time.” She spoke to the room at large. Or was it to herself?

  Graham followed her up the servants’ stairwell.

  She seemed to be in no particular hurry. She waited at the top behind the heavy oak door.

  After a moment, the front door latch clacked, and distant voices filtered through the doorframe.

  Another moment later, the servants’ door opened from the other side, and Mr. Dent moved aside. “He’s in the parlor.”

  “Thank you.” She stepped out and took several deep breaths.

  Graham stood next to her. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He would gladly confront his lordship on her behalf.

  “Oh, I want to do this. I’m just preparing myself.” She fluttered her hand toward him. “To the alcove, and don’t come into the parlor for any reason.”

  He would be the judge if he had reason to go into the parlor.

  She strolled the length of the hallway to the parlor doorway, pulled a black handkerchief from her sleeve, and slumped her shoulders.

  He tiptoed to the door that had been left cracked open a bit. A tall potted palm with a cluster of other plants hid him from view. Perfect. He slipped inside, crouched, and peered through the leaves.

  Lord Claremont stood as she entered. “Victoria, thank you for your invitation.”

  She waved her handkerchief toward him. “I am so grateful you came.” She sat on the end of the sofa closest to the crackling fire.

  He sat next to her. “I thought after the theater you might be upset with me for taking Mr. Berg’s place. Since the plans were all made, I felt I would have been negligent if I left you waiting.”

  Negligent only because he was the reason Mr. Berg didn’t show. Graham wished he could see Claremont’s face straight on to read him. Women rarely could tell what truly hid behind men’s words, and men had no clue what danced around in women’s heads.

  Victoria gave a halfhearted smile. “That was so kind of you. And your box offered a far better view of the performance than the lower seats would have. Truly thoughtful.”

  Claremont straightened his shoulders, no doubt pleased with her compliment. “You are welcome in my opera house box any time.”

  Graham bet his lordship would love to have a beautiful lady of Victoria’s station on his arm everywhere he went. But she could be ugly for all Claremont cared if he could have her uncle’s money.

  Mrs. Fuller entered through the door behind Graham. She smiled down at him and continued into the room with the tray. “Tea, miss.”

  “Thank you.”

  The housekeeper set it on the table in front of the pair. “Shall I pour, or would you like to?”

  Victoria nodded at the tray. “Please do.”

  The first cup, Mrs. Fuller handed to his lordship, then one for her mistress. “Anything else?”

  “No, thank you.” Victoria spooned sugar into her cup … one … two … three … and stirred with soft clinking sounds.

  The housekeeper left the way she’d come in. She winked at Graham as she passed by. Her footsteps stopped just outside the door.

  Graham glanced back to see the housekeeper, butler, Muriel, and one other maid standing behind him, straining to hear.

  Claremont took a drink of tea, pulled the cup from his lip, and glared at it. He touched the chip on the rim. His eyebrows pulled together.

  No doubt he thought the same thing as Graham. Why serve a guest with chipped china?

  But the man didn’t mention the damaged cup. “Your message sounded as though you had something specific you wished to speak to me about.”

  Victoria dabbed the corner of her eye with her black handkerchief. “I’m in quite a quandary. I don’t know what to do. I need your counsel.”

  “I will help in any way I can.”

  Graham bet he would. Help himself to Mr. Helmsworthy’s money.

  “My uncle had debts.”

  They weren’t much. Nominal at best. She knew that as well as Graham did.

  “Go on.” Lord Claremont took another sip, glared at his cup again, and set it and the saucer on the table in front of him.

  “I had three months from the reading of the will. I’m going to be out of this house in a little over two weeks.”

  Claremont pulled back. “But your uncle had so much.”

  “Debts.”

  “What about all his holdings?”

  “Debts.”

  From his lordship’s pinched expression, Graham could tell the man struggled to believe the fortune that he’d thought was within his grasp had slipped away.

  Claremont swallowed hard. “Certainly your uncle left you something.”

  “I will receive a small stipend.”

  His lordshi
p shifted on the sofa. “How small?”

  “Oh, not to worry. If I scrimp, I can rent a modest apartment, hopefully one with a separate bedroom.”

  Claremont leaned forward as though about to spring off the sofa.

  She sucked in a quick breath and continued. “I had hoped to supplement the allowance by working at a local school for girls, but none of them are hiring.”

  His lordship stood. “I am so sorry to run out on you like this, but I just remembered a prior engagement.” He backed toward the door. “Thank you for a nice time.”

  Graham struggled not to laugh and give away his refuge.

  Victoria followed her guest into the foyer. “But whatever shall I do?”

  Graham and the servants watching shifted as one to peer down the main hallway.

  Lord Claremont snatched his overcoat and hat from Mr. Dent. “Sorry, I am unable to help you. I’ll make some inquiries and get back to you. Good day.” Claremont swung his coat on and, without bothering to fasten it, hurried outside into the freezing December air.

  Graham came out of hiding and strode to the foyer.

  Mr. Dent closed the door.

  Victoria burst out laughing. “Did you see him? He couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”

  “That was brilliant.” Graham applauded her. “I dare say that’s the last we’ll see of him.”

  And nothing she’d said was a lie. She merely omitted some key information. But if she didn’t find a suitable husband soon, it would all be the cold hard truth.

  Chapter 9

  Graham stared in disbelief as Victoria wrapped a set of plain white plates in table linens and placed them into a crate. “You’re packing? Why?”

  With one finger held aloft, she glanced up at him, and her blue eyes melted his ire. “I have one week left. I have failed my uncle’s test. As he knew I would. So I’m packing necessities and making inquiries into apartments I can afford on my stipend. Don’t worry. I won’t take anything of value.”

  He never imagined she would. But then again, he never imagined her living anywhere but here … in her home. “I’m sure you’ll be given ample time to find a place and move after the rest of the will is read.”

  “Why put off the inevitable? I would rather be done with it all when the final sentence is rendered.” She went back to her task.

  “You have a week. You never know what the Lord will do.”

  She stilled her hands and sighed but didn’t look up. “If He was going to make all my dreams come true, He would have by now. Besides, all my marriage prospects—not that any were suitable to begin with—have been scared away.”

  Not all. “There has to be one agreeable man in the greater Boston area.”

  She turned to face him. “Do you have someone in mind?”

  Was that hope in her voice and eyes?

  Staring intently, she blinked several times. “Anyone?”

  Soon after he had met her, his heart had secretly hoped. But he hadn’t let his thoughts go there, because he knew that even faced with a life of near poverty, she would never consider him. He could mention Stanley Browning. She got on well with him, and his sister was her best friend. But what if she took him up on Browning? Then she would be lost to him.

  Would he rather have her in poverty and still have a glimmer of hope than have her financially secure? “I’ll marry you.” He hadn’t meant to say that. But he couldn’t take it back. Didn’t want to.

  She gripped the chairback closest to her and appeared not to breathe for a moment. Her voice came out small, almost childlike. “You?”

  He swallowed hard and nodded like an errant schoolboy.

  One eyebrow rose gracefully. “Why would I want to spend the rest of my life with a man who doesn’t even like me and thinks I’m nothing but a spoiled debutante?”

  “I don’t dislike you.” In fact, quite the opposite.

  “Do you deny that when we met, you wanted nothing to do with me?”

  “Well … I … my cases …”

  “Do you deny you thought me among the snobbish privileged who couldn’t do anything for myself?”

  “Well … I suppose …”

  Her eyes glistened, and she blinked several times. She folded her arms. “So what about your oh-so-romantic proposal am I supposed to swoon over and say yes to?”

  He was mucking this up. He drew in a deep breath to order his thoughts. Just like closing statements to a jury. “My proposal is not meant to be romantic but practical. To keep you from losing everything.”

  She thinned her lips. “So you want my uncle’s money, too. You would be sitting pretty then. You are no different than Lord Claremont and all the others.”

  Ouch! “That’s not true. I’m not after your money. But I don’t want you to lose it.”

  “I’m not losing my uncle’s money.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “I can’t lose something I never had in the first place. And if I marry, it all becomes my husband’s—in this case you. So I was never, ever going to have my uncle’s money, married or not. I would rather be a pauper and control my own life than be at the whim of a man who cares naught for me.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. He was making a flying mess of this whole thing. “What I mean is, I would allow you to have full control over your uncle’s money—your money.”

  “Allow. How generous. That’s easy to say now. I’m sure Lord Claremont would have said the same thing.”

  “True. But I will draft a contract we’ll both sign before we marry, giving you full control.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You could do that?”

  “Of course.”

  “But wouldn’t that go against my uncle’s will? And therefore not be binding?”

  “I think I could word things to take effect the moment all your uncle’s assets are transferred to m—the man you marry.”

  Through squinted eyes, she studied him. “Why didn’t you suggest this before? With one of the men my uncle had chosen?”

  “I hadn’t thought of it until now.” And he didn’t want her to marry anyone else. “You can’t be sure that one of those other men would keep his word and not try to break the contract after the wedding. I give you my solemn promise.”

  “Why would you do this? What would you gain out of the deal?”

  You. “Nothing. You deserve and are entitled to your uncle’s holdings. You’re his only heir.”

  Her stoic expression didn’t budge.

  “Would you at least think about it?”

  She gave a curt nod. “I would like to be alone to contemplate my future.”

  From the start, she had been trying to send him away. Was there anything more he could say to persuade her? “I’ll be in the library.”

  Victoria’s heart broke as Graham walked away.

  He had proposed a business arrangement.

  Nothing more.

  She had hoped for more.

  A lot more.

  But what would he gain from his proposal? Certainly not a wife to love and cherish. Social position?

  The tears she had held at bay during their discussion broke free. She slapped them away. Why did she think she was special enough to find a man to love her when so many women failed? Or settled.

  Her uncle must be laughing at her high ideals now. Shaking his head and saying she had fanciful notions.

  Stanley had obviously been wrong in his declaration that Graham held affection for her. Maybe Stanley would be willing to marry her if he learned of her uncle’s stipulation. He might not agree to her having full control but at least a large allowance.

  Victoria stayed in the dining room for a good hour, packing the dishes and linens she would take with her. The time gave her a chance to get a handle on her emotions.

  Prepared to face Graham again, she strode into the library and studied him busy at work behind the desk. “Write the contract, and I’ll read it.”

  Graham jumped to his feet. “Really?” He strode around the desk
. “So you’re agreeable to my proposal?”

  “I don’t know.” She clearly wasn’t going to find another man to fall in love with in a week. Wouldn’t it be better to marry a man she at least loved even if he didn’t return her love than having no love at all? “But I’ll read it and consider your offer.”

  He reached back and picked up the papers he’d been writing on. “It’s done.”

  “How? When? You left me only an hour ago.” Had he already had the contract written up before he arrived? Had he been planning this all along? Was he manipulating her? She prayed not.

  “I wrote it just now while I was waiting for you.”

  “You did?”

  He nodded.

  “Is it legal?”

  “Of course. Once you’ve signed.” He motioned toward the desk chair. “Sit and read it. Let me know if you have any questions or would like anything changed.”

  She hadn’t expected something so fast. Her legs felt weak as she rounded the desk, grateful for the cushioned seat to catch her. She dropped the contract onto the desk and flipped through the pages. “You’ve already signed this. Are you that confident?”

  “I wanted you to know that I’m making you a serious offer.”

  “Why are you so insistent?”

  He hesitated. “Because you deserve what’s rightfully yours.”

  She sensed he was holding something back. She drew in a slow breath. “I don’t know. Maybe with someone like Stanley. He at least doesn’t detest me.”

  Graham seemed to bristle at the mention of Stanley. “I do not detest you. Far from it. I admire your spirit and spunk. You’ve never let the conditions of your uncle’s will get you down. You’re smart and have a superb sense of humor. I don’t know another lady who could have outsmarted Lord Claremont the way you did. Most would have given up, declared him the victor, and married the manipulating clod. But you stood your ground.”

  He paused then continued. “Please consider me over Mr. Browning.”

  “I still can’t determine what you would gain out of the arrangement.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes.” Consenting to let him write the contract had been a bad idea. “I don’t understand your motivation. And until I do, I won’t agree to anything.” She leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms. “I don’t want any surprises. I want to know exactly what I’m getting myself into.”