Page 6 of Wicked Rivals
“Protect me?” Rosalind set her own cup down, a flicker of unease darting through her like a startled rabbit in the underbrush. “Whatever from?”
Emily cleared her throat. “What we mean to say is that we know Lord Lennox. We know what he’s capable of when he’s in a mood, that is. All of us admire your courage and your ability to compete among the men. And we don’t want Ashton, that is, Lord Lennox, to upset you simply because he has his trousers twisted. I adore the man, but like the rest, he can become harsh in his business matters where his pride is pricked. We only wish to protect you, Lady Melbourne. We ladies must stick together.”
“Well…” What did one say to that? Rosalind plucked at her rose-colored day gown and glanced away, feeling a tad awkward.
“Have you any way to know if your finances are protected?” Anne asked quietly. “Cedric, that is to say, my husband, once said Ashton will challenge a man by dealing a blow to his banking abilities, such as his credit and his debts.”
Rosalind felt her stomach drop out. These ladies were serious about Lennox. And she’d certainly pricked the man’s pride. She’d bought three companies out from under him in the last month and had wooed old trading partners of his to her lines. But surely he wouldn’t do something so drastic. But she had taken out credit lines to buy the last few companies, and her own bank was light in gold if any of her notes came due at this moment.
“But surely he wouldn’t…” She went over the numbers and scenarios in her head. She saw it. A vulnerability. What if…?
Suddenly the room was too hot, too closed. She needed air.
“Quick, Anne, open a window!” Horatia gasped.
Rosalind rushed from her seat following Anne, who opened a window facing the back gardens. She leaned against the sill, her hands digging into the wood as she sucked in the fresh spring air.
“There, there,” Anne soothed. “Breathe and you’ll be fine.”
Rosalind wished it were so simple. But if Lennox was setting that plan in motion, she would have little chance of stopping him, unless she could get to the banks and ask for more credit to cover the gold cash-outs. But that wouldn’t solve her debt problem if he bought the debts. She would then still owe him everything.
“What can we do to help?” Horatia asked.
It took several long moments for Rosalind to recover. Her stays were too tight, and dizziness swamped her.
“I’m afraid I must go—” If she could get out in front of this, she might survive.
“Of course,” Emily replied. “Would you like someone to go with you?”
“No!” Rosalind gasped, then recovered herself. “I mean, no thank you, Your Grace. I’m afraid it would not do to have you walk into a bank with me. They act poorly enough when I go in—I should not like to see how they react to a duchess.”
Emily grinned, her violet eyes twinkling. “Nonsense. I have no qualms about scandals. You forget who I am married to. Scandal is nothing new to me.”
Rosalind debated her options. She wasn’t all that fond of accepting help, but something about Emily was reassuring. Neither she nor Horatia nor Anne seemed to be the sort of women who allowed men to control them, not even their husbands.
“Well, if you wouldn’t mind.” She finally sighed and rubbed her temples.
“Not at all.” Emily shared another of those secretive glances with Anne and Horatia.
“Might I ask, why are you helping me, Your Grace?” Rosalind closed the window facing the garden and focused on the three women. “I cannot help but notice you keep looking at each other.”
Horatia blushed. “We’ve all had to put up with men in the past when they’ve caused trouble. We wish to help you, and we know Ashton can do great harm to your business.”
“I’ll ring for my coach.” Emily rose from her chair and pulled a slender cord on the door.
*****
Half an hour later the coach bearing the Essex coat of arms rattled to a stop outside Drummond’s Bank. It was the bank where Rosalind kept the majority of her lines of credit.
Rosalind and Emily climbed out of the coach and proceeded toward the bank, ignoring the stares of men and women on the street. It had amazed Rosalind to learn on the ride over that Emily was a skilled businesswoman herself. She’d handled her uncle’s accounts, then taken over her husband’s once she married. Through the course of the conversation, Emily had told her a fantastical tale of abduction, intrigue and eventually love, which had resulted in her marriage to the Duke of Essex. The local papers had certainly not given any ofthosedetails.
As they reached the door to the bank, Rosalind drew them up short. “Are you positive you wish to go in with me? There will be talk—more than talk—if you do.”
With a chuckle, Emily replied, “It’s been quite some time since I’ve been considered scandalous, so it’s time to dive back into the gossip, I think.”
If Rosalind’s nerves hadn’t been so raw, she would have laughed with her.
The inside of the bank was filled with men of business and members of the peerage, talking, perusing papers and making business deals. A collective hush filled the room when she and the duchess entered. Women were not supposed to enter such a realm without a gentleman escorting them. It was something she’d gotten used to, the quelling gazes of men who wished to intimidate her into leaving. But she never gave in. There was nothing any of them could do to her. After living most of her life at the hands of an abusive father, she was done letting men dictate her life.
