Mr Fairclough's Inherited Bride. Georgie Lee

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Mr Fairclough's Inherited Bride - Georgie Lee


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waistcoat pocket, snipped off the end and set it between his lips. He leaned forward, accepting a light from Silas who held out a small stick from the fire. Richard inhaled deeply as he sat back before taking the cigar out of his mouth and exhaling with a wincing cough that saddened Silas. ‘You need the kind of improved opinion that an impressive and respectable marriage confers on a man.’

      Silas choked on the smoke and the unexpected suggestion. ‘The kind of respectability you never sought for yourself.’

      ‘I almost did once, many years ago when I lived in Mobile. I was in the cotton business back then and on my way to making my first real fortune. We were in love, but yellow fever stole her from me. I never found another like her after that.’

      It was the first time Silas had ever heard Richard speak with such affection about a woman who wasn’t his now-departed sister in England. It tightened his chest to realise Richard might be reunited with both women far too soon. ‘Then what’s turned your thoughts to matrimony?’

      ‘Your future and Lady Mary’s.’ He wheezed as he exhaled smoke. ‘A well-settled woman isn’t a single one at the mercy of every fortune hunter in the States, but a married one with a home and family, one who can successfully host dinners and help further your interests because they are her own.’

      Silas took a deep drag off the cigar. He’d never in all their time together ever questioned Richard’s reasoning for anything. He hated to make an exception this far into the game. ‘I give you my word that I’ll make sure she’s well protected from fortune hunters and that she contracts a good marriage.’

      Richard threw back his head and laughed, the cheerful sound weighted down by the rattle marring it. ‘Shame on me for not being more direct.’

      ‘You’re being very direct.’ A little bit too much for Silas’s liking. He’d always imagined himself settling down some day, but not quite this soon and not with a near stranger. Lady Mary was a pleasant enough woman, but he knew almost nothing about her. He wasn’t one to pry into other people’s affairs, at least those not connected to business that could benefit him in negotiations. ‘But the lady and I aren’t well acquainted.’

      ‘Not a difficult problem to rectify.’

      ‘She may not be amenable to the idea.’

      ‘Again, not an insurmountable obstacle.’ Richard leaned towards Silas, the firelight highlighted the growing gauntness in his face. Richard was very sick, there was no denying it or what it meant. Once again Silas would be left alone in the world to make his way through it. He might not be the fifteen-year-old boy who’d taken on the responsibilities of a man far too soon, but it was difficult to hold that old apprehension at bay. ‘This isn’t merely a matter of the heart, Silas, but a very practical union that could benefit you both. I know I haven’t told you a great deal about Lady Mary so I’ll tell you what I can. She’s the Earl of Ashford’s daughter.’

      That was nothing to scoff at and plenty of reasons to wonder. ‘Then what’s she doing here? Why isn’t she in London where her mother can marry her off?’

      Richard rolled his cigar between his fingers. ‘That’s something you’ll have to hear from the lady herself.’

      Silas was certain he didn’t need to ask. There was only one reason a man as high up the social scale as an earl would cast out a daughter. Silas had never met any woman so high, but he’d met plenty of other young women from good families at the Foundation. The details were different, but the story was always the same—a man, a lapse of judgement and a very distinct alteration of their future, fortunes and standing. Silas had never held it against them. His parents hadn’t raised him with such prejudices. Besides, having made more than a few of his own mistakes, he could understand theirs and that the men were as much to blame as the women for what had happened. ‘But what’s the benefit of her over, say, Mr Penniman’s daughter?’

      ‘One—’ Richard held up a single finger ‘—never mix business with pleasure. Better to keep someone like Mr Penniman as an investor rather than a father-in-law. He’ll have less say in your affairs and it won’t be awkward if things turn sour. Two—’ he held up another finger ‘—her standing as a genuine lady. Americans already think any man who sounds like you is an aristocrat. If you have a wife on your arm and at the head of your table who actually is one, it’ll raise you even higher in their esteem. America is full of younger sons of the nobility trying to make a fortune, but an available young woman with Lady Mary’s lineage is a rare find. The two of you could really make something of yourselves.’

      ‘We’d make another commoner, like me, the son of an earl’s fourth son who preferred humanitarianism to hunting. I’ve never even met the Lord my grandfather, who probably doesn’t know I exist.’ A fact his father and mother’s passion for philanthropy had reminded him of daily while he was growing up. Silas took a sip of the fine brandy, savouring the sharp flavour. Bless his parents for their altruism. It wasn’t the way he wished to live.

      ‘But you know he exists. I’ve heard you drop his name during more than one conversation when it’s to your benefit to do so.’

      Silas shrugged. ‘A man uses what slender means he has available and I assure you mine are very slender.’

      ‘With Lady Mary by your side your means will widen considerably. You could affix her family crest to your carriage or have a combination of hers and yours created. Imagine how that would look at the top of your letter head or on calling cards. You could even incorporate it into the Baltimore Southern’s insignia, give the railway a touch of English class to really impress merchants and passengers,’ Richard suggested, the way he did whenever he thought aloud about how to approach investors for a new venture. It was the idea one had to sell, not the business. Never that. It was too ordinary and boring for a man to really picture, but an idea, slightly exaggerated in its aspects but never lied about, something an investor could hold in his mind when he held the stock certificate, that was something else. It was Richard’s gift, one that Silas had worked hard to cultivate over the last five years. He never imagined it being used on him to propose a match as if Richard were some kind of hovering mother at a ball.

      Silas took another drag off his cigar, turning the smoke into rings as he carefully exhaled. ‘Even if I was for it, what would the lord and lady think of this match?’

      ‘They gave up the right to approve or disapprove of her decisions some time ago,’ Richard spat, then took a calming puff off his cigar. ‘Besides, they aren’t here to look down their regal noses at you, now are they? Nor are they likely to leave their hallowed estate and venture across the Atlantic to make a stink about it.’

      ‘No, they aren’t.’ Silas inhaled the weedy smoke of his cigar while he thought over Richard’s proposal as he’d considered every other business decision Richard had ever placed in front of him. Silas wasn’t ready to invest in Lady Mary yet but the benefits of the match, like those of a foundry for the Baltimore Southern, were compelling enough to be considered.

      An interesting idea, Mary mused silently while she stood in the shadows outside the study, listening to the men. This wasn’t the first time she’d hovered out of sight in the darkness while others discussed her future. It was becoming quite the regular habit where her life was concerned. At least this time the proposed plan was kindly meant and to her benefit because Richard genuinely cared about her. It was more than her parents could ever have said about their actions. Their love of reputation and standing had been more valuable to them than their daughter.

      She touched the small watch hanging from a ribbon on her dress bodice, a gift from Ruth, Richard’s sister, during Mary’s first Christmas with her. She ran her fingers over the fine filigree, feeling the few strands of the fraying ribbon on which it hung. The watch was one of the many kindnesses Ruth had shown her during the years that Mary had spent with her. She missed Ruth, but she was ashamed to say she didn’t miss the isolation of the country.

      Quiet spread over the room, broken by the


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