Page 94 of The Truth About Lord Stoneville
“Yes, buttheydidn’t know it. So I thought if I settled a deal for the ships on my own as an independent company, I could return to America in a position of strength. I could threaten to take my half of the business—and my new deal—if your father didn’t approve the marriage.”
It all sounded very convincing . . . except for one thing. “What about me? While you were off arranging your future—”
“Ourfuture,” he corrected her.
“—I was left not knowing what had happened to you, not knowing if you had changed your mind about the betrothal or if you’d died somewhere.”
“I had no choice,” he said in the patient tone he’d alwaystaken with her when he discussed business. Why had she never noticed how condescending he was? “If I’d written you, your father would have heard of it. You know he would never have allowed us to correspond privately. I couldn’t risk tipping my hand.”
“So you decided that my feelings, my worries, didn’t matter?”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Of course they mattered. But I figured you would understand once I achieved the goal we both wanted—a speedy marriage.”
“If a speedy marriage was our goal, we could have eloped,” she pointed out. Disillusionment crept into her voice. “But you wouldn’t have risked that. Papa might have refused to leave his half of the company to you.”
“Now, Maria, you know that’s got nothing to do with it,” he began in the placating voice that had seriously begun to grate on her nerves.
Her temper flared again. “Do you think I’m stupid?” She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “Or maybe you just thought me so desperate for a husband that I would sit patiently waiting until you remembered you had a fiancée. Clearly you weren’t worried I might find someone else during the months when I didn’t hear from you.”
He blinked.
A bitter smile twisted her lips. “And why should you? After all, who would want to marry the too-forthright daughter of a bastard? I’d be lucky to have a man of your social consequence, right? I’d never risk losing a fellow aslofty as you. I’m sure you thought I would wait for you forever.”
“That’s not . . . I didn’t look at it . . . Dash it all, I knew your character! You’d made a promise to me. I knew you would honor your promise.”
She fought to ignore the twinge of guilt his words roused. “Yet you felt no compunction to honoryourpromise.”
“What do you mean?” he asked warily.
“You’re courting the daughter of Mr. Kinsley, who owns the company that might buy the ships you don’t fully own.”
A dull flush rose in his face, and his gaze shot to Mr. Pinter, confirming what she’d heard. Her heart sank. How had she not seen this side of him before? How could she have been so blind to the shark in him?
“I supposeyou’rethe man spouting these lies in my fiancée’s ear?” Nathan snapped at Mr. Pinter.
“I passed on what I heard here, yes,” Mr. Pinter said coolly. “That’s what she hired me to do. You were seen out walking with Miss Kinsley several times, not to mention accompanying her and her mother to concerts and the like.”
Nathan tugged at his cravat, as if it was choking him. “I was merely attempting to be polite. It’s not unusual in business.”
“Rumor has it that you’re on the verge of making an offer,” Mr. Pinter said.
Nathan returned his gaze to Maria. “You don’t believe these rumors, do you?”
She gazed steadily at him. “Should I?”
“No!” When she merely lifted an eyebrow, his color deepened. “All right, I’ll admit I smoothed the way for this deal by cozying up to Mr. Kinsley’s family, but—”
“That’s what I thought.” She turned for the door. “You’ll be hearing from my attorney. If you wish to purchase my half of the company—”
“Dash it all, Maria, don’t be absurd!” He grabbed her by the arm. “I made no promises to the young woman. She means nothing to me!”
She snatched her arm free. “How odd. Neither do I, apparently.”
“That’s not true!”
Anger surged up in her again. “I cried for you. I worried about you. When you didn’t answer my letters, I came all the way to this curst country to find you—and you hadn’t even left word at the company as to where you’d gone! I had little money, and no idea what to do—”
“Then you should have stayed home, where you belonged!”
