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"You rushed to Breanna's defense, and I commend you on your loyalty. Still, what makes you think I find being a handful an admirable trait?"
"You might not, my lord, but I do."
Again, laughter rumbled from Lord She
ldrake's chest. "I rather expected as much."
"Good. I'm glad I didn't surprise you," she returned with a perky grin. "That would have violated your one-surprise-per-person rule."
"True." Schooling his features, Lord Sheldrake leaned back and crossed one long leg over the other in a deceptively casual stance. "Tell me what you had in mind for your father's inheritance."
Anastasia realized instantly that the abrupt change in subject was meant to catch her off-guard. Well, it wouldn't. She was too well-prepared with this particular response. She'd rehearsed it half the night, modifications and all.
Gripping the folds of her gown, she raised her chin, met the marquess's gaze head-on. "What I have in mind is twofold: to invest directly in America's expanding industry, and to open a bank that will meet a growing nation's demands—one that will make an enormous profit in the process."
Lord Sheldrake's expression never changed. "Were these your father's ideas?"
"I believe they were his wishes. But the ideas are mine."
"I see." He cleared his throat. "There are already banks in America."
"Not like the one I have in mind. Mine would be as vital to America as the House of Lockewood is to Europe. Which is why I want your cooperation—not only as my adviser, but as my partner."
Dead silence.
Then: "You want me to co-invest in this endeavor?"
"Yes. Although, to be blunt, I never considered the idea until yesterday. I intended to do this on my own. Then, when I found out that Papa had appointed you to oversee my funds, my mind began to race. Your insights, your contacts, my firsthand knowledge of the States; abruptly, it struck me that my bank—our bank—would be twice as successful, twice as quickly, if we combined our resources. Surely you can see what a splendid opportunity it is?"
Lord Sheldrake rubbed his palms together, contemplating his answer. "Lady Anastasia," he said at last, "part of being a sound investor is avoiding putting all your eggs in one basket. Another is determining which ventures have a higher percentage of success, and which have greater risks and somewhat uncertain rewards. England and the Continent offer both stability and proven opportunities. The colonies are still a vast unknown."
Anastasia's jaw set. "They're not colonies anymore, my lord. They're states. And just because you've always done things one way doesn't mean there isn't a better way to do them. It only means you have yet to find that other way. Reluctance breeds complacency, which often leads to failure."
An astute glance. "You've rehearsed this argument well."
"I had all night to do so. I anticipated your reluctance since yesterday afternoon when Mr. Fenshaw proclaimed you my financial adviser. I just didn't know whether that reluctance would extend only to investing your own money or whether you'd be dubious of the entire notion. I suppose now I have my answer."
Lord Sheldrake raised his head, met her stare. "I suppose you do. But I want you to understand why I'm reluctant. It's not because I refuse to explore new avenues, nor because I resent your suggestions. It's because I'm not convinced this is the right time to do what you're suggesting. In a few years, maybe. But not now. Not with a country that's still as wobbly on its legs as a new colt—a country, I might add, with whom we've just been at war."
"A few years? That makes the issue rather moot, since I won't need to consult with you then. Nor will I need to do so in a few months, for that matter." Anastasia's hand balled into a fist, pressed into the brocaded cushion of the settee. "But I don't want to wait a few months. I intend to get started right away—for my father. He was a man of great foresight; he welcomed new, creative business challenges. Several times we talked about expanding the role of Colby and Sons in the States, finding a way to lend capital to the growing number of merchants we did business with. He would have been the first to applaud my endeavors."
"I agree that Henry was very enterprising. But he was also smart. He wouldn't have suggested throwing away money. Nor would he have poured all his assets into one risky investment."
Anastasia bit back her disappointment, reminding herself that this was only a setback, not a defeat. "We could argue this point all day. You see things one way; I, another." She rose. "You've given me your answer. You won't be taking part in my venture. Very well. I'll manage it alone. Father's estate is worth over a hundred fifty thousand pounds, and that's not including his home in England and his home in Philadelphia, nor his shares in Colby and Sons. Tell me exactly how much of the estate is in cash assets which are, therefore, immediately available to me."
"None of it."
Anastasia's head jerked around, and she stared at the marquess. "Pardon me?"
"Your father's cash assets total close to two hundred thousand pounds—none of which is available to you." Calmly, Lord Sheldrake unfolded himself from the sofa and came to his feet. "My job is to advise you—and to manage your funds. I can't, in good conscience, allow you to squander away your inheritance."
Twin spots of color stained Anastasia's cheeks. "Are you saying you're refusing me access to my own money?"
"No, I'm merely saying I'm refusing to let you invest that money in an American bank." He regarded her intently, clearly aware that she was angry and, therefore, trying to soften the blow. "I'm not doing this to be cruel or tyrannical. I hope you believe that. But if you don't…" A shrug, "…that's something we'll both have to live with. I won't compromise my integrity just to convince you that my intentions are honorable. Think of it this way: I can't stop you forever. Starting in October, you'll be overseeing your own funds, and you can invest as you choose. I only hope that three months gives me enough time to influence your thinking; that, with a little financial guidance from me, you'll have regained your senses by then."
"Or perhaps I'll have used those three months to influence other businessmen, those who aren't afraid to try something new by financing my venture," Anastasia shot back, feeling angry and frustrated and resentful—more so because she wasn't wholly sure where those emotions stemmed from. Oh, she was furious at being thwarted, at having someone else in control of her life. But she was also bothered by Lord Sheldrake's rejection, more bothered than she'd anticipated. And she couldn't help but feel a grudging surge of admiration at his utterly principled way of doing business—even if she did loathe the outcome.
So who was she angry at, him or herself?
