Page 21 of On a Midsummer Night
Henry looked away. He had no notion of what Beth thought or felt.
The pair was silent for a spell, each sipping their alcohol. Henry was thankful for the reprieve, for Oliver’s assertion had sent his thoughts into a spiraling vortex. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Beth—but it didn’t matter. If Henry were to secure his position at the railway, he had to prove he wasn’t leaving for money and adventures in some far-off location. He needed to marry into the company, and despite what his heart wanted, encouraging his feelings down fruitless paths was not to be entertained.
“So, if you’re no longer courting Cousin Lucy, what do you intend to do now?” Oliver asked, his tone softer than it was moments before.
After dragging a hand through his hair, Henry dropped his head. “I don’t know. Marrying your cousin would have solved my problems.”
“I don’t understand.”
“They’ve stalled my promotion to lead engineer. I’ve been waiting for over six months for it to occur, but it wasn’t until Gooch took me off the locomotive project that I realized the board of directors had all but suspended me.”
Thinking about the unfair way he’d been treated made Henry clench his jaw so tightly it ached.
“But you designed the locomotive,” Oliver pointed out.
“I did. And not just that, but the majority of speculators who have financially supported the project are men I personally courted.” Henry pounded his hand on the table. “Men who committed their funds believing I would be overseeing the construction.”
Oliver’s eyes flashed. “What could their reason possibly be to threaten the project like that?”
“Somehow, Gooch got word that The Baltimore and Ohio Railroad has been courting me to work for them.”
“An American railway?” Oliver whistled through his teeth. “That would be something.”
“It would be. I’m flattered but not interested.” Henry sighed. “My mother and Ariana might be on the continent, but I’d like to stay in England in case I’m needed.”
And he didn’t want to start over again.
“That’s understandable.” Oliver rubbed a hand along his jaw. “So marrying Lucy was supposed to show your loyalty?”
“Your uncle made it clear that the board wanted to see that I was committed to my work at Great Western and saw my future with them.”
“Shouldn’t the work you put into the locomotive design and the investors you’ve recruited be proof enough of your commitment?” Oliver asked, throwing his palms up.
“Apparently not,” he said, a biting sourness filling his mouth.
Oliver rolled his eyes. “I can imagine how delighted Uncle Charles must have been at the idea of his only daughter marrying the company’s rising star.”
Henry gave a dry chuckle. For a moment, he reflected on the surprising reality that the friend he had left behind when he embarked on his ruthless campaign to reinvent himself was sitting across from him, defensive and angry on his behalf. Henry was certain he was not worthy of Oliver’s friendship, let alone his forgiveness.
“And what of Beth?”
Henry jerked back to the moment. “What of her?”
“She’s a Dalton, too, you know. Marrying her would show you’re intent on setting down roots.” Oliver grinned. “And we’ve already determined that you love her.”
Oh God, why hadn’t Henry thought of such a thing? Would marrying Beth—that secret desire flared back to life so fiercely, no matter how undeserving he knew himself to be—actually secure his career aspirations? Surely the board would be appeased if he married Charles Dalton’s niece . . . wouldn’t they?
But did Beth want him in return?
“I–I . . .” He cleared his throat, desperate to erase the hitch in his voice. “I don’t see how she would possibly welcome my suit after . . .everything.”
With his brows drawn low, Oliver narrowed his eyes. “Has Beth told you?”
“Told me what?”
Henry watched as a spectrum of emotions flitted across his old friend’s face before his expression settled into bemusement. “I suppose that’s my answer.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Henry bit out.
