“Ye’re not my intended target.”
“Right.” Trembly planted his hands on his hips and squinted. “Rabbits, isn’t it? To protect the virtue of her ladyship’s gardens?”
Callum grumbled in return, then looked behind him at the deserted hill. “Where are the others?”
“I convinced them the northern hillside would be a better spot because of the rainfall or some nonsense like that.” The marquess shrugged his narrow shoulders. “I wanted a few moments to speak to you alone.”
Callum’s stomach clenched. “About what?”
“You should receive investment inquiries from several firms in London within a week’s time, all funded by associates of mine. I’ve looked at your business plans and see a great deal of potential in you.”
“Ye do?” Callum blinked as his lungs relaxed. “I’m grateful for the support.”
Trembly nodded absently, as though investing thousands of pounds with a man he’d just met was an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it was. “Does Valebrook know the condition of your accounts?”
Whatever tension had left Callum’s body rushed back in triplicate. “I-I beg yer pardon?”
Trembly waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t have all the details, yours being a private company, but from what I gathered, most of the debts were acquired while your uncle was at the helm. Am I correct?”
Callum’s mouth was bone dry. “Aye, ye are.”
The man hummed, climbed higher along the ridge. “Does James know?”
When Callum imagined—typically as nightmares—the moment he’d be forced to reveal his deception, it had never been on a hilltop while hunting rabbits with a marquess. “I—no,” he stammered, unsure why the truth had chosen this occasion to slip out.
Trembly kept his gaze on the grass in front of them as they walked, but Callum didn’t miss the tension in his posture. “Why is that? Isn’t it his company?”
“Aye. But he—James doesnae need the worry. I have it handled.”
“Which explains your determination to build the canal in Panama.” The men strolled in silent contemplation, Callum wondering if the delicate web he’d constructed was about to break. One word from Trembly would send investors fleeing, his aunt and cousin destitute. Blackness filtered into the edges of his vision as his chest tightened—
“Did you know I planned to marry Violet’s sister?”
The breath rushed from his lungs, his mind reeling from the swift change in topics. “No, I didnae.” Why wouldn’t Violet have told him? She’d told him Trembly wouldn’t be a candidate formarriage to her, as they were old friends. Surely the same issue existed with her sister.
“We weren’t a love match, but Rose faced pressure to marry in society, not unlike Violet. We thought it might be the best solution to both our problems.”
Callum needed to tread carefully. His intuition told him Trembly was dancing around something, deciding how much to share, how much he could trust Callum. “But you didnae marry.”
Trembly chuckled. “We did not. Rose fell in love with an American, and Violet was insistent her sister be with the man she loves. So Violet inherited her sister’s conundrum.”
“So she’s told me. But Violet willnae marry.”
Trembly turned then, looked Callum over and, based on the slow rise of the other man’s brow, was not impressed by what he saw. “She will. Shewantsto marry, desperately, but on her terms. Hence your…arrangement.”
He said the last part with such disdain that Callum felt like a child being scolded in church. “We’re only doing what she wants.”
Trembly snorted. “It seems you’re enjoying it, too, or so it appeared when she was leaving your room last night.”
Callum stepped into Trembly’s space and snarled his words. “If ye’re accusing—”
The marquess lifted one hand, entirely unmoved. “Don’t be daft. There’s no need to accuse you of something I already know is happening, and the details are beyond my interest.” A small shudder ran through him. “What I don’t understand is why you won’t marry her when you’re in love with her.”
The rifle slid from Callum’s fingers, and both men jumped when it hit the grass, then sighed with relief when it failed to fire. “Was that loaded?” Trembly asked.
“No’ yet.”
“Smart man.”
