“I wouldn’t have reason to be here, Mr. Draper, had you paid your debts on time.”
“I told you the money was coming.”
“You do not make the schedule, Draper. We had an agreement. One that you submitted yourself to when you borrowed the money with the promise of payback.”
Her father had borrowed money? Minnie’s cheeks heated with growing concern, anger, and resentment at whatever her father had lowered himself to, for this did not sound like a typical business arrangement. He was a partner in what she had believed to be a thriving business. For what reason would he need to borrow money from a known moneylender?
“You must have some understanding,” her father said, his voice changing slightly as he shifted to a more pleading tone, one that didn’t sit well with Minnie. “I only recently paid forone daughter’s dowry, and I have another which will come due soon.”
Soon? Had her father made plans he hadn’t shared with her?
“You should have thought of that before you gambled away those dowries and borrowed even more.”
“I had some bad luck. How was I to know it would all come to naught?”
“Can’t say I’ve seen many gamble their way ahead. Thankfully so, as it’s a thriving part of my business.”
The man cackled, and Minnie’s nails dug into her palms where they were fisted at her side, her anger growing both at the man who seemed to take pleasure in cashing in on the pain of others, as well as at her father, who had made questionable choices that would affect all in her family.
“I’ll give you one more week,” this Mr. Blackwood said, “but that week comes with a price. A rather hefty one, as the interest rate remains the same.”
“This is ludicrous!” her father burst out, his voice rising, showing how angry he must be, for he almost never allowed such emotion to show. “If you want to see your money, then do not make it impossible for me to repay you.”
“As I said, Mr. Draper, you agreed to the terms. I am just following them. Now, you don’t want to see me here again? Come up with the money.”
Minnie heard a chair scrape across the floor, and she scrambled back away from the study, darting down the hallway and around the corner just in time as the door opened and her father called out, “Smith! See this man out.”
Footsteps started down the hallway as her father slammed the office door behind the moneylender. Minnie paused, knowing she should pretend she had never heard a thing. This was her father’s business, and he would care nothing about what she thought.
But this was her family, and she had every right to know just what her father had done. Whether he cared or not, this would affect her as much as it would anyone else, from her dowry to her everyday life.
Before she could think better of what she was doing, she marched up to the study and knocked on the door.
“Yes?” her father called out in a surly voice from within.
“It’s me,” Minnie said as she opened the door, stepping inside and closing it behind her.
Her father sat behind a large, sturdy desk made of polished mahogany, framed by tall, built-in bookshelves and dark wallpaper with damask patterns. Dotting the shelves were globes, and across from his desk, a large map, criss-crossed with threads attached by pins featuring the shipping lines their business followed.
One large window provided natural light; the heavy drapes were pulled back, allowing the light to touch on artifacts that had been brought back from the travels he had participated in with the business.
Minnie declined a seat in one of the wingback chairs before the desk, instead crossing her arms and leaning back against one of the bookshelves.
“What was that all about?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Are you referring to my private conversation?”
“Do you mean the one with the usurer who threatened you to repay the money you owe him? Yes, that would be it.”
“It has nothing to do with you,” her father growled. “Leave it be.”
“It has everything to do with me!” she protested. “You just told him that you gambled away my dowry.”
“Says the woman who refuses to marry.”
“I’m not refusing to marry. I am just waiting for the right proposition.”
“Which will be?”
