Page 28 of The Truth About Lord Stoneville
Mrs. Plumtree tapped her cane on the floor. “I need your answer.”
“I beg your pardon.” Maria lifted her chin. “I’m stunnedby your assertion that this is a farce. Are you saying your grandson doesnotwant to marry me?”
“Do not play me for a fool, girl.” Mrs. Plumtree moved toward her with surprising agility for a woman of her age. “My grandson knows you are exactly the sort of woman who would not meet my requirements of a wife for him. That is the only reason he chose you.” She stamped her cane on the floor. “And I will not tolerate it! So tell me how much money you want, damn you!”
Well! The woman had certainly made herself clear. But if Mrs. Plumtree thought Maria would turn tail and run simply because of some blustering, the lady didn’t know whom she was dealing with.
“I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything from you. Oliver ‘chose’ me, as you put it, because he had feelings for me.” Not the kind Mrs. Plumtree would think she meant, but at least it wasn’t a lie. “I’m sorry if that grieves you, but since I have feelings for him as well, you’ll have to endure it.”
“So youadmitthat you aren’t in love with him?” she pressed.
Even for her agreement with Oliver, she couldn’t lie that blatantly. “I’ve hardly known him long enough to claim to be in love. But I do like him a great deal.” When he was being genuine and not playing the bored and cynical villain. “He seems to find my liking for him sufficient and is rather eager to marry, so his feelings are the only things that matter.”
Mrs. Plumtree stepped up close, her blue eyes ablaze in the pale ice of her face. “If you think to get a greaterreward by marrying him, think again. He owns this house and its contents and little more. Without money from me, he will not be able to buy you fancy gowns or take you to Paris or whatever it is your grasping little heart has seized upon. And I promise you, if he marries so far beneath him just to spite me, Iwillcut him off.”
Maria’s gaze narrowed. “I thought you said that this was a farce. That he never intends to marry me.”
“It is.” A hard smile touched Mrs. Plumtree’s face. “But men follow their cocks.” While Maria was struck speechless to hear a woman using such a vulgarity, Mrs. Plumtree went on with no hint of shame. “Acleverwoman, as you appear to be, will use her beauty and her close proximity to ensnare even a wily gentleman like my grandson.”
“Oliver? Ensnared? You clearly don’t know him very well if you think he can be coaxed into doing anything against his will.” That’s what had brought about this whole mess in the first place—Mrs. Plumtree’s foolish belief that she could force his hand.
“I know my grandson better than you. He has vulnerabilities that you cannot even begin to imagine.”
The words echoed hollowly in her chest. “What sort of vulnerabilities?”
Mrs. Plumtree snorted. “Do you think I would tell you? So you could use them to get him in your clutches? Not on your life.” She loomed closer. “For the last time, Miss Butterfield, will you reconsider my offer of money?”
Tired of being painted as a schemer, Maria stared her down. “I will not.”
“Even though you won’t ever get a penny—”
“I don’t care.” Though she wasn’t marrying him, she was just willful enough to resent his grandmother’s high-handedness and just compassionate enough to sympathize with his determination to thwart the woman. “I don’t break my promises.”
“Do not let Minerva and the others fool you. You would never be fully accepted in this family, never be accepted in good society, never—”
“If Oliver doesn’t care, I certainly don’t. This discussion is done, Mrs. Plumtree.” Turning on her heel, she walked back the way she came, seething. And she had thoughtOliverinsulting! At least now she knew where he got it from. Heavens alive, what a family!
She almost felt sorry for him, having a grandmother that condescending. No wonder he had thought his plan would work.
In that moment, she decided to see this out. If he wanted to thwart his grandmother, she would help, as long as he held up his end of the bargain and hired someone to look for Nathan.
She was doing this for Nathan alone. And no amount of nastiness from Oliver’s grandmother was going to stop her from following through.
IT TOOK EVERYounce of Hetty’s will to hold her stern expression until she was certain Miss Butterfield was gone. Then she allowed a smile to break over her face.
Strolling to the brandy decanter, she poured herself a healthy amount. The girl was perfect. Perfect! Draw a sword on him? Take him to task for implying that she was a whore? Then refuse any amount of money that was offered to betray him?
Hetty sipped her brandy. She supposed the girl really could be some grasping wench hoping for a fortune in the end, but it was unlikely. Hetty hadn’t risen in the world without learning how to read people, and she would swear that Miss Butterfield was a woman of character. The young lady hadn’t claimed to be madly in love with Oliver, even though it would have been to her benefit to do so. And she had shown pride and backbone in standing up for herself.
Oliver had obviously manipulated the poor girl into playing out this farce—something havey-cavey was going on behind the scenes. But that did not mean it couldn’t still work.
For one thing, Miss Butterfield was his preferred physical type—blond, buxom, and blue-eyed. And he was clearly attracted to her. While Oliver was attracted to many women, he generally avoided innocent young females, wary of being “ensnared.” And this girl was definitely an innocent young female—her shock when Hetty used the word “cocks” clearly showed it.
Yet Oliver had chosen her over one of his opera dancers or some whore, which would have been more typical of him. He clearly thought that the girl’s flawed background would make Hetty admit defeat. Hah! He didn’t know hisGran very well. She would marry him to a fishmonger’s daughter if it meant getting the man settled.
But she was not about to let him know that, or Miss Butterfield, either. A little opposition from the scary matriarch whom Hetty so enjoyed playing was guaranteed to have those two joining forces against her. Joining forces meant private conversations, learning to trust each other . . . even falling in love, if she were lucky.
She owed Oliver that much. Thanks to her own mistakes, he had spent too long building his castle of wickedness, believing it was the sum total of who he was.
