Page 72 of The Heiress Gets a Duke
She started to reply, but Papa beat her to it. “Sadly, not yet.” He gave her a telling glance that seemed to imply the lack of a formal betrothal was her fault. August had not shared with him the extent of her personal discussion with Evan. “Although the duke has indicated a willingness to begin negotiations, which is promising. I am having a contract sent over today.”
“Then I have come in time,” Max said with resolve and pressed a reassuring hand to her back, his dark eyes flickering with censure.
His tone caught Papa’s attention. “So you have come to save your sister from marriage?”
“I expressed as much in my telegrams. We are Crenshaws, for Christ’s sake. We do not have to sell our daughters and sisters for coin or prestige.”
“No one is selling anyone. We are the ones paying him.” Papa gave them an antagonistic grin.
“Yes, I gathered as much,” Max replied.
Aware that the tension was rising in the front hall and the servants had disappeared, Papa huffed out a final breath and smoothed a hand down his lapel. “I find that I, too, need a few moments to refresh myself. We will continue this discussion in my study. Say a half hour?”
Max gave him a nod of deference, and they watched him in silence as he walked up the stairs and then disappeared down the corridor. “What the hell has happened? Are you all right?” Max turned to her and asked.
“Yes, I’m fine. Come, let’s sit in the drawing room and talk.” August led her sister and brother to the drawing room and discreetly closed the door behind them.
“It’s been so awful,” Violet began. “First me, and now poor August.” She gave August a pitying glance before launching into the entire torrid history of their parents’ matchmaking scheme.
August sat in a chair facing them both and fidgeted. She felt badly that Max had come all this way for her to tell him that she now believed that she did want to marry Evan. But she did like Evan. She liked him a lot. Was that enough for marriage?
It was a good start. Besides, how could she go back to the way life was before this marriage business? How could she trust her parents ever again, especially Papa? Unable to keep still, she rose and paced to the window.
“It seems this duke returned to London with the impression that you were going to marry him. Is that right?” Max asked after Violet had finished the story.
“We spoke privately before he left, and I agreed to his proposal. It’s not official until he and Papa sign the contract.”
“And you are certain this is what you want to do?”
“I feel great affection for Evan, and I do think that we could make a happy life together.” Extremely happy, if she was being completely forthright. Now that she had finallyseen past the veil of nobility to the real man, she was certain that he was the right choice. She was less certain that she was ready to make that choice right now. “Besides, even if I said no, things could not go back to how they were. Papa has already said that he will not allow me to continue my work with Crenshaw Iron.”
Max rose to stand before her. “He won’t get away with that. I have rights in that company. He cannot cut you out that way, not without my say-so.”
“I know, but that’s not really the issue here, is it? He said what he said, and there’s no going back from that.” She broke off when her throat closed and turned quickly to face the window when tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. She had never been one to show her emotions easily, but especially not in front of Max or Papa. To show weakness was against everything the Crenshaws stood for.
It was a surprise when Max put his hands on her shoulders. “This is your life, August. Your future. You get to decide. I will stand by whatever you choose.”
She nodded and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I’ve already chosen. I choose Evan.”
“Perhaps it is a good thing he was not to be found at Sterling House yesterday.”
August whirled to stare at him. He had a faint smile on his face. “You went to Sterling House?”
“I arrived and no one was home. Reginald explained that you had been delayed, so I decided to pay a call and size this Rothschild up for myself.”
“Thank God he was not there. I appreciate you coming, and I’m sorry that I pulled you away, but it appears I don’t need you to go to battle for me after all.”
Max grinned. “Yes, you do. I’ll have a look at that contract before it’s sent over, and if you do end up marrying this fortune-hunting bastard, I’ll have a nice long chat with him first.”
She smiled and hugged him. “Thank you for coming, but that won’t be necessary. I can manage him fine on my own.”
“I have no doubt of that,” said Max.
Chapter 21
But the future must be met, however stern and iron it be.
Elizabeth Gaskell
