“Marriage? To me?”
Of all the things Harry had thought Lucy Waterstone might say to him, this was by far the most unexpected.
“Yeth.”
Harry stared at her mouth once more, the delicious curve of her upper lip, so full and plump, he longed to sink his teeth into it.
How did I not notice the lisp?
“Are you out of your bloody mind?” He sniffed at the warm lemon and verbena scent wafting off her skin. Not a seductive aroma, to most men. But Harry wanted to bathe in it. Cover himself in her scent like a dog.
He placed his palms on either side, caging her in, inhaling as much of Lucy as possible. Pressing the pads of his fingers into the paneled wall, he struggled to refrain from touching her. She appeared so innocent, the wide blue eyes regarding him with no small amount of fear, yet she did not back down.
“I am not,” she whispered.
So erotic. That breathless whisper curled around his thighs. Not a practiced bit of seduction, but a way to hide the slight lisp, which seemed to come and go. Silence was her other defense. Harry was typically most observant. How could he not have seen it?
Because you are blind where she is concerned.
“You want to wed me,” he stated again. “But I won’t make you a countess, Miss Waterstone, like Dufton. I’m the son of a blacksmith. Barely welcome here tonight.” He took a step closer, and she shrank back.
“I don’t wish to wed Dufton.” Lucy glared daggers at him. She lifted her dainty chin another fraction of an inch. “Do you wantMarthdenor not?”
No hiding the lisp that time. “Oh, I want Marsden, have no doubt. I’m only not sure of the particulars.”
“Marriage,” she bit out. “There isn’t any other way for you to have the land, Mr. Estwood, except through wedding me.” The lisp faded as her frustration towards him increased. “Marsdencannotbe sold. Not by me or anyone else. My great-grandfather attached it first to my mother’s skirts and then my own.” Her chest rose and fell. “I suppose he…didn’t like my father.”
“No one does, Miss Waterstone.” Harry cocked his head. “Explain.”
Marsden had been sitting for years, a giant, barren plot of land no one wanted in the Cleveland Hills, the ownership murky at best. A survey had been conducted at Joshua Marsden’s request, but the results had been buried first by him, then a team of solicitors. Until Harry had uncovered the original survey.
Joshua didn’t want Waterstone to know.
“At the death of my mother, the possession of Marsden went to me,” Lucy said. “I was unaware until recently. The property will be transferred, upon my death, to my eldest child andmust always pass to a direct Marsden descendent. Those are the stipulations of Joshua Marsden’s will. Ironclad. Trust me?—”
“I do not,” Harry said. “Not even a little.”
Her hands fisted at her sides, nervously pulling at her skirts. “If my father could not find a way to sell Marsden, I doubt anyone can. The land is not a dowry, can’t be sold, nor does my father have use of it, a fact I suspect he didn’t realize until he—needed funds.” Lucy looked away before turning back to him. “But my husband will have the use of Marsden. Did you think Dufton was trying to wed me out of affection?”
Harry pushed away from the wall, furious at the news. There was no way toownMarsden, only have the use of it. Waterstone had lied, stringing him along, raising the purchase price and making ridiculous demands. Enjoyed watching Harry twist in the wind.
He was bloody furious.
Also, Lucy had a temper. Which he enjoyed. Almosttoomuch.
“May I continue?” She regarded him rather boldly, though he could see her hands still trembled. At his nod, she said, “You own a handful of mines all over England.”
Harry narrowed his eyes. “What of it?”
“They produce copper, silver, coal and some iron ore. But not a great deal. You sell the coal. The copper. The silver. But keep the iron ore, though not enough is produced for your purposes.”
“My purposes?”
“Iron ore is a key component of pig iron and wrought iron, both used in the building of bridges, sewers, and railways. You’ve amassed a collection of ironworks so you can control the production of the rails, beams, and rods needed for construction. Pendergast will be one of the largest of your ironworks once you complete the purchase.”
“I like forges. Metal. Iron. And I have an interest in ancient weaponry. All matters we’ve previously discussed. If you recall.”
A soft blush crept up her cheeks. “I remember very well.” She cleared her throat. “Access to the River Tees, which runs along Marsden, would help facilitate shipments from Pendergast. The ironworks is capable of producing much more pig iron and wrought iron than the others you own. Depending on the supply of raw materials, of course. So, one might believe, much like my father, that all you and Dufton are interested in is that river access.” She gave him a gentle smile. “But that isn’t why you want Marsden. Nor Dufton either.” She swallowed. “He also owns an ironworks or two.”
