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He shocked both Chadbournes by taking a step back and executing a small bow.
Rather than keep his gaze downcast appropriately when he straightened, it locked back on her. “I beg your pardon, Lady Clara, for being an uninvited guest.”
She lightly compressed David’s arm again when she sensed he wanted to respond.
“Why not work together?” Clara ventured, unable to listen further to their prattling. “To locate the sellers. Or better, to solve the existing problem by cooperating. Isn’t this property desirable in the first place because the river can provide more than enough energy for your projects? Build the wheel together!”
Mr. Robertson’s mouth curved scornfully.
Clara suppressed any display of disappointment, but she wondered what bothered him most. That she voiced an idea? Or was it the notion of cooperation with her brother?
She glanced at David, stifling a sigh. “Does my suggestion truly meritthatlook?” As fond as she was of him, it drove her mad when he dismissed her as naïve.
“I shall never forget the time I found you in the barn lecturing the stable master’s cat and dog to get along. You made a list of all the features they shared in common—tail, whiskers, ears, and so forth. You’re grown, I know. But you are stillthatClara.”
She softened at the affection she heard in his quiet voice, knowing he appreciated the warmth she brought to his life. He’d indulged her today when she’d been the first uninvited guest, surprising him with a hamper full of his favorite picnic foods and wearing this absurd dress.
Suddenly remembering their company, Clara and her brother looked back in unison at Mr. Robertson.
“Who would own the property if we constructed the wheel together?” he asked—her.
Clara raised her chin. “You could hold title together, by way of joint venture.”
Mr. Robertson’s eyes broke away, appearing to consider it.
Clara’s hand, still on her brother’s arm, registered his tension before he stepped away, pacing.
She stood between the two men, her attention split.
“It’s out of the question,” David said. “To share a property I already own outright! Why would I do such a thing?”
When Mr. Robertson would have spoken, she quelled him with a plea in her eyes. She faced David. “Both of you vow to fight. One of you will lose,afteryou’ve both spent time and resources.”
“But one of us would win,” Mr. Robertson said.
David nodded. “He’s correct inthat.”
“Bothof you win by operating the wheel together! There would be no wasting of resources by fighting. You’d share in the costs of building the wheel, in its maintenance—all gains!”
“Clara, take no offense at this, as I know you mean well. But your proposal would require a partnership. Trust. And no offense to you, Robertson, for I know you feel the same way,” he said before turning back to Clara, “but the only matter I can trust him in is wrecking me at the first opportunity. Nothing personal. Our firms arerivals.”
“Nothing personal?”Mr. Robertson repeated in his own accent, his face disbelieving. “We’re competitors, aye. On that we can agree. But not much else.”
“On that, we agree,” David said.
Clara closed her eyes, shaking her head.
“At least I came to give ye notice, Chadbourne. Iwillprevail on Rosemount. Suit yerself if ye have the time and means to waste fighting me. I can hold out.” Mr. Robertson sent a last look of warning to David before turning to Clara. “If I ruined your picnic, I apologize. If I livened it, you’re welcome.”
She ignored her brother’s disgustedtskand watched Mr. Robertson’s broad shoulders disappear through the library door.
“Cast that encounter from your memory,” urged her brother firmly. “I regret you were present for it. You needn’t worry, not about the land, nor about that man.”
Clara wasn’t worried.
She was fascinated.
