Page 15 of Miss Harvey's Horribly Lovable Fiancé
His requirements were outrageous. If Giles agreed to them, he had no doubt that his father would never cease his demands. Bankruptcy, ever a threat under his father’s rule, would stalk his own door. He could not permit that to happen. Not after all his own hard work and now, not with Esme in his life.
“My lord Northington!”
Courtland hailed him from afar, striding toward him with a grin and outstretched hands. This short stocky fellow was the epitome of what every father should be. Gregarious, prudent, affectionate, even generous with money. Esme Caroline Harvey came to Giles as one of the wealthiest brides in the United Kingdom. In fact, Giles predicted that the Prince Regent—should he learn the amount—would soon invite himself into Giles’s parlor for tea and a loan.
“Welcome! Welcome!” Courtland was ebullient. “You are in time to witness the May Pole dance.”
“Thank you, sir.” He allowed the man his pats on the back and shook his hand. The villagers let up a shout at some hilarity in the lanes. Dancing to drums and pipes was the order of the day. “I’m pleased to have arrived in time for it. And I do offer my apologies for not appearing sooner.”
Courtland leaned closer, the better to hear him in the din. “None are required, sir. We know you have much business to conduct.”
Statements like that always made him clutch. What did people really know? If indeed they knew his business with the Foreign Office and the Prime Minister, then it would be no secret at all. And much would be lost.
Giles inhaled and shuffled that idea off to the far reaches of logic.
“Do come with me, sir. I’ve had my man save us a spot before the May Pole dance. Funny stuff. Last year a few of our ladies got tangled in the ribbons. Not happy, they weren’t. Hope for none of that this year, eh?”
“Yes, good.”
“You saw our Esme?”
“I did. As I arrived.”
“Good, good.” Courtland led him past a few mummers whose rainbow-hued hose had fallen to their ankles. The men stumbled about to cries of delight from the children. “Lady Courtland worried that you’d find it amiss that she came here and did not wait for you.”
“That is my fault, sir. I should have written once more to say that I’d arrive this morning. I owe your wife an apology for such lateness.”
“Whatever it was, I’m sure it was necessary.”
“It was. Very.” They took up a spot where fewer people stood in earshot. “I must speak with you, sir. I am disturbed at the final outcome of the settlements. I did not know of my father’s reluctance to sign.”
“I don’t like it.” Courtland’s posture grew stiff. “Not at all. I have given notice to my solicitor that he has failed me miserably.”
Giles struggled to hide his fury at his father. “Sir, your man is not to fault here. Spare him. It is not an excuse but I was away. Called to Paris.”
Courtland stared at him. “I had word of that. I do not criticize you for doing your duty to us all.”
“Thank you. But had I been in London I would have had my finger on the issues. I do now. I met with my father last night.”
“He will not sign,” the Viscount concluded. He was known as a shrewd businessman and while Giles had not seen this demeanor in him heretofore, he recognized full flush the resolve that boded ill for this conversation and for his marriage. Courtland arched a golden brown brow, suspicious. “And any alternatives?”
“I gave him an ultimatum.”
“Did it work?”
“I will know by this evening.” Chesters’ promised to ride until his horse frothed to get him word in time to go to the altar. He trusted his man to get here.
Courtland scowled. “And if your father does not agree and sign the damn thing, do you expect me to give away my daughter without any assurances for her future? To see her deprived of her due and shamed if she is widowed, left with babies? I say, sir, that is not what I envisioned for my sweet girl.”
“It is not what I want either.”
Courtland clasped his hands together. “Esme has a strong will.”
If he implied that she could live well on few funds, Giles did not want his father to connive his way into the monies that were hers by rights. Strong willed or not, Esme might not be able to fight the manipulations of his father and the wily devils in the English courts. “Strong or not, she should not have to fight. And I do not want her to have to fight for what is her inheritance.”
Courtland nodded. “Good of you. But without signed contracts, it is no assurance. You realize my other alternative is to forbid the marriage?”
“I do,” he said with terror rending his heart in two.
