Page 38 of The Lady Tempts an Heir
“No, I won’t keep you.” He sounded happy and relieved. “I have my own meeting to prepare for.”
She walked with him to the door, the mild feeling of dejection growing more intense with each step. Huxley was taking the cape of Charlotte, the first board member to arrive. After cursory introductions, during which the woman gave her a knowing look, Maxwell said, “Goodbye, Helena,” and tipped his hat as he hurried down her front steps to his waiting carriage.
She couldn’t help but think that goodbye had sounded particularly formal and final, and after it she felt bereft in a way she hadn’t in years. He was telling her that what had passed between them meant nothing. She already knew that. Right?
Before she could contemplate the question, another carriage pulled up, and Lady Betringham alighted. Helena knew that she must push all thoughts of Maxwell Crenshaw to the side. The rest of the afternoon would be taken upwith figuring out how to convince Sir Phineas to grant his family’s property to her charity. But she couldn’t do it.
Despite the fact that her drawing room was filled with the women on the board, she felt lonely. Alone. She hadn’t felt so alone since Arthur’s illness. It was ridiculous to think that it was because of Maxwell’s rejection, and yet she knew that it was. He hadn’t even rejected her. They’d had an arrangement, a business deal. A simple kiss wouldn’t change that.
Chapter 13
Nature has given woman the same powers, and subjected her to the same earth, breathes the same air, subsists on the same food, physical, moral, mental and spiritual. She has, therefore, an equal right with man, in all efforts to obtain and maintain a perfect existence.
Frederick Douglass
Good evening, Lady Helena. How good of you to come.” Sir Phineas greeted her in the expansive foyer of his fashionable Bloomsbury home with a customary bow. She positively vibrated with nerves now that the night to convince him to let her purchase the priory had finally come.
“Sir Phineas.” She gave a curtsy, having just handed off her cape to his butler. Rain dripped across the floor as the man carried it to the coat stand in the corner. “Thank you for arranging this meeting.”
“My only regret is that it has to be on such a rainy night,” he replied.
“It’s no bother. The ride over was fine.”
All this time she had been imagining Sir Phineas as a doddering old gentleman, but he stood before her a strapping man who appeared to be no older than thirty-five. He wasn’t handsome in the conventional sense, and not like Maxwell, but his broad features and thick brown hair held a certain charm, as did his eyes. They were thatindiscriminate color between blue and green and filled with an intelligence that she immediately respected.
But her heart fell a little bit despite how likable he was. He was too young. At his age, he wasn’t liable to care very much about his legacy and that of his family name. She had come armed with arguments that might appeal to an older man entering the sunset of his days with an eye to what he’d leave behind when he was gone. She didn’t know if that line of reasoning would have the same effect on someone younger.
“I hope you can forgive me for taking so long in making up my mind,” he said. “The priory has been in my family for almost two centuries, and while I suppose it’s not very valuable in the grand scheme of things, it holds sentimental value to me.”
“Perfectly understandable. I believe that places hold on to our memories for us and develop a sort of essence of their own because of it. Parting with a property can be like letting go of a family member.”
He grinned, revealing a very attractive smile. “Well said, Lady Helena. Could I offer you refreshment before dinner?” He indicated a drawing room off the foyer. “We shall dine momentarily, but we’re waiting for one other guest.”
“Oh yes. Brandy, thank you.” Strange. None of their correspondence had mentioned another guest.
He nodded and waited for her to lead the way into the drawing room. The decoration here matched the dark wood and red wallpaper in the entry hall. It was all very somber with every surface cluttered with an antique or trinket from faraway travels. She took a deep breath, willing herself to calm, as he poured a drink for her. She examined a glass case displaying butterflies of all colors. A twinge of pity wafted through her at the way they had been splayed out with pins, but it took her mind off the nerves threatening to run rampant through her.
Tonight would decide whether the home could move forward as planned or if she would be left scrambling to find somewhere else. After days and days of optimistic planning, convincing him suddenly seemed like a colossal task. She hoped she was up for it and didn’t let everyone down.
“Thank you,” she said when he presented the brandy to her. “I was unaware there would be another guest for dinner.”
“Yes, unfortunately, I have been called away to Norfolk. I leave in the morning.” She recalled a pair of trunks stacked near the front door. “There’s no need for concern. It’s simply a small matter on my estate there, but rest assured that I’ve arranged it so that whatever is decided tonight can proceed in my absence.” Inviting her to sit, he took the chair opposite her. “As I explained in my note, there is another party interested in the property. With the time constraint, I thought it prudent to have you both here tonight to present your plans.”
She kept her smile in place, while inwardly she cringed. The other person would likely have the funds to go higher than her offer, making this much more difficult.
The doorbell rang before she could answer, its knell echoing into the depths of the house.
“It appears that our other guest has arrived. Excuse me, Lady Helena.”
She watched him retreat to the entryway, already preparing herself for battle. The board had emphasized offering to name the tenant hall after him. She would lead with that. A man such as him would like the idea that a building would stand in London bearing his name long after he was gone, despite his age... she hoped. Penhurst Hall had a nice ring to it. She’d even go so far as to offer the Penhurst Home for Young Women if that’s what it took.
Murmurs from the entrance hall reached her as the men’s voices came closer. She rose to her feet. Being caught sitting seemed as if it would put her at a disadvantage.
“—scotch or brandy?” Sir Phineas’s voice preceded him into the room.
“Scotch, thank you.” The American voice sent cold water gushing through her veins.
In the space of a heartbeat, she thought back to the night of her last kiss with Maxwell. He had been excited because he’d seemed confident that he would close the deal on the new building for August’s venture.It appears there is interest from other buyers, but I’m not concerned. I’m willing to pay almost any price to secure it.
