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Earl or no, it had always been clear to James that Chadbourne was far more than the silent owner others believed him to be.
It wasn’t James’s problem that lazy aristocrats found trade to be distasteful, and he wasn’t one for theater, least of all to play a role assigned to him by others. Chadbourne may wish to pretend his business was at arm’s length; James had neither the time nor inclination to address an intermediary.
Why couldn’t the ingrate appreciate that James’s being here was a sign of respect for his acumen?
As a young man, Chadbourne inherited an earldom burdened by heavy debt and an unsustainable estate. He’d applied his uncanny skills in industry, selling off unentailed peripheral properties and creating his own enterprise involving the latest advances, including water power and machinery.
Both men had created firms from less than nothing, yet Chadbourne stood in his ornate library full of old things and relied on his dusty title to make clear he was James’s better.
One of Chadbourne’s eyebrows arched absurdly high. The gesture portended further haughty demands, probably to leave.
James shifted his attention to the man’s sister, knowing it would both distract and goad Chadbourne.
“And what may I callye?” James asked her directly.
Their eyes met again, causing his pulse to throb in his neck. He told himself he addressed her to irritate Chadbourne, to show him that senseless formalities wouldn’t cow him.
Clara stilled her brother by slipping her hand through his arm. Then she dipped her head, her eyelids lowering, severing eye contact momentarily.
James felt the loss.
“I am Lady Clara Chadbourne.”
The undercurrent between them swelled. James resented hearing the Chadbourne name and yet knew joy in the revelation that she was unclaimed by marriage.
“A pleasure to meet you.” He wished his statement was but a platitude void of truth.
He forced his attention back to Chadbourne—the reason for his visit, he reminded himself. “Mylord,” James droned as if an insult, “I shall speak of our business without further delay.”
“Not in front of—”
“Dear brother,” Clara interrupted in dulcet tones. “Please do not postpone your discussion on my account. I’m most curious to hear what is so imperative that Mr. Robertson must interrupt our luncheon.” She spoke pertly but without scorn.
It took discipline for James to shift his attention back to his goal for today. “I own the Rosemount property and the water rights. I’ll no’ be giving them up. Generally, I don’t find ye needing my guidance. This is an exception. Save your resources for another battle and let this be.”
James saw the anger, quickly suppressed, that his words evoked. Then Chadbourne blinked as if bored. “The only thing you stated correctly, Mr. Robertson, is that I do not require your guidance. My solicitor made clear my intentions. The property belongsto me.”
The words were what James expected, delivered in just the tone he expected, yet the emphasis on those last two words brought a roar into his ears. He walked away, unable to tolerate any more of Chadbourne’s hauteur.
Covering his retreat with an air of indolent curiosity, James paused in front of the bookshelves, pretending to examine the titles. He forced air into his lungs slowly, then out.
He blocked out Chadbourne’s voice. After more air, his eyes could focus on the gold embossed letters on a leather book spine.
A long table bathed in light from the window attracted his attention.
An architectural model and miniature scenery, painstakingly assembled, covered the table. It was undoubtedly the textile mill Chadbourne planned to build, powered by a large water wheel built on the banks of the river on the Rosemount property.
Still ignoring Chadbourne’s voice, James bent to examine the details, including the unexpected location of the wheel.
Chadbourne was detestable but no fool, nor did he abide the advice of fools. James’s eyes darted along the painted banks and river of the model, then tracked back to the mill buildings.
“Pray tell, Robertson, are you seeking to steal not only my property but also my designs now?” Chadbourne demanded, irritation finally seeping into his tone.
James felt foolish for exposing his curiosity. That nob couldn’t resist any opening to belittle him, now by casting him as a thief!
He turned to face the man again. “Peculiar that you speak of theft when you’ve trespassed on my property to survey.”
“It’s not trespass for my men to survey my own property! Nor is it my fault a seasoned man of business such as yourself was taken in by that swine who signed a false deed.”
