Page 26 of Sweet Siren
"It matters not." She bit her lower lip, shook her head and marched around him toward theSquare.
He let her go, watching her stride away with speed. He'd learned quite by accident that she had a business relationship with his architect. He hadn't asked about town. Hadn't had to. He'd simply walked into Antram's office one morning last December to discuss details of their contract and Roger mentioned that his most popular decorator was Lady Savage, OliviaBereston.
Figuring the gods smiled on his hopes to construct a country house suitable to his rising fortunes in Europe, Killian had done what any potential client did. He asked for a description of her experience. Little in the way of personal information came from his inquiry and Killian had not broached that subject. For the past four months, he'd visited Roger's office once a week for scheduled meetings regarding his new home and estate. While nothing definitive could be decided until he purchased land he liked, he relished the idea he might accidentally see her at Antram's offices. That had not happened until yesterday. And now the memory of her torment plaguedhim.
Why did she refuse him? Kisses as delectable as those they'd shared were not ordinary. To reject the truth of their attraction defied every instinct in his Celtic soul. Chances were she would kiss him again like that and when she did, they would explore more deeply than their mouths. Her fear told him she knewit.
"Father? You are not listening tome."
"You're right." He reached to take down his greatcoat from the rack. It would be cold as hell by the ocean today. When last he'd seen this property in February, snow had frozen on his nose and eyelashes. He liked the odd serenity of snow falling on water and wondered if Liv did,too.
"It's not like you to bedistracted."
Killian agreed. "With grandchildren about to fill my days, I've much to think about." Besides, Pierce would think him a blithering idiot if he told him all the reasons why they'd come to Brighton. "You make mesmile."
"Well, aside from the fact that you're changing the subject, that's good because you haven't really smiled in months. Tell me what I've done to cause it and I'll do itagain."
Killian shook his head, weary of his internal conflict about his intended actions in town today. "You know me sowell."
"Thank God I do or I never would have learned how to finagle a good price out of anyone!" Pierce crossed one leg over the other and brushed his hand down his thigh. He wore a dove grey wool suit that matched his eyes and contrasted with his raven hair. He appeared to be exactly what he was, decisive, dangerous and rich as Midas. "Won't you give me a hint of what we're about heretoday?"
For this trip, Killian had requested he come along but told him only that he wished his advice. "The agent I'm meeting sells this land for afamily."
Pierce picked up his bowler hat from the seat next to him and smoothed the brim. "I see. You're not usually inclined to show interest in the landed gentry or their holdings. Why meet thisone?"
Pierce loved land. In the past six months, he'd become insatiable in its acquisition. As prices fell from the bad harvests and import of American corn and South American beef, the aristocracy were shedding their holdings like water off ducks. Pierce saw the opportunities. He bought and sold what he liked and did it in thousands of acres. Killian often joked that soon his son would own more of England than the Crown. Pierce would chuckle, but had never deniedit.
While Killian applauded any venture Pierce wished to put his hand to, he questioned if owning so much of England would bring Pierce any satisfaction. Last year, Pierce had invested in Paris public works. Water works, to be precise. When the new water reservoir and sewer systems were finished in the French capital in two years, Pierce estimated he would earn more than a million francs each year for more thanfifteen.
But what he was doing in England was a different story. Pierce was buying farm land. Yet he wasn't a farmer. He wasn't a miner. He was, however, devoting more and more of his time to managing what he purchased. With a new cadre of personnel whom he hired as his estate managers, Pierce trained his staff to do his bidding. His emphasis was to improve the crops and update the agricultural methods like rotation that worked well in the States. But more and more of his advice focused on efficient use of tools andfertilizer.
Farming had never interested Killian, but then his children each showed signs of interest in subjects which had never been hispriority.
Nursing and medicine for Lily, the Duchess of Seton. Painting for his niece Marianne, the Princess d'Aumale and Duchess de Remy. For his youngest daughter, Ada, flirting with every eligible man in Great Britain fully absorbed her. But Pierce had two fascinations. Agriculture. And Elanna, the reckless Countess of Carbury, who did not seem to know Pierceexisted.
Odd, how your children turnout.
Killian bent to look out the train window. They were slowing, coming into the station in the seacoasttown.
"Will you tell me our goal before we get to your appointment or am I toguess?"
Killian fished his watch from his waistcoat pocket. "Always ontime."
Pierce sighed. "I giveup."
"I suppose you'll learn soon enough."My need of a house. A proper country house."I'm hoping to buy land here along thecoast."
Pierce's bright eyes twinkled. "Here? You don't say? But I thought you liked that cottage in Ashford near Lily and Julian'sWillowreach."
"I may buy it aswell."
"Splendid. I like an adventure, especially one so unusual as Black Killian Hanniford spending his millions like a drunkensailor."
"Come now." Killian tugged on his overcoat. "I'm not that daft."AmI?
"You're different lately. That I can say. For now though give me details on what we're about to see, please, so that I don't look like the idiot son in front of thisman."
"I've learned of a project begun but abandoned for a crescent of townhouses up for bid five miles east of Brighton."And a smaller parcel ten miles away."Another plot east ofHove."
