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“It’s because of your father, I imagine.”
This was too much. “You ruined him!”
The old man nodded. “Yes, I took my revenge after he crossed me.”
“You admit it. You have no remorse?”
Her grandfather shrugged. Clearly, he did not. Anger flooded Harriet. How could he be so shameless?
The old man clasped his hands behind his back as they walked on. “I liked Finch, you know. Admired his abilities. I had plans for him, before he stole my daughter away.”
“Mama is not a…a piece of property to be bartered.”
“They never should have met,” he went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “I didn’t think… Well, I keep my business separate now. Have you encountered any of my employees?”
“No.”
“And you won’t. I shan’t make that mistake again.” His round face set in obstinate lines.
Harriet almost wished she could descend on his offices, seize one of his minions, and marry him out of hand.
“Your father must have known what would happen. He’d worked for me for years. He’d seen that I have a bad temper.” He owned it as if a temper was as immutable as blue eyes or pale skin and not a trait he might control.
“He was in love,” Harriet retorted. “As was Mama.”
“Well, they got their love.” He gave her a sardonic look. “That was the bargain they made. And perhaps came to regret.”
Harriet would never admit that. Indeed, she didn’t think it was true. Which did not excuse her grandfather’s attitude or his behavior. Nothing could do that.
“I married for capital and an heir,” he went on.
Harriet had wondered about her grandmother, who had died before she was born. She knew nothing about her.
“I got the funds I needed all right and tight.” His mouth turned down. “But a sickly son. He lived just long enough to produce a copy of himself, who didn’t even manage that much.”
This was the deceased cousin Harriet had never met. She wondered what had become of his mother.
“And Mama,” she had to point out.
“Yes. A daughter who defied me.” He spoke as if he still couldn’t quite believe it, even after all these years. “So, you see, you must take care just what sort of bargain you make.” He gave her a searching look.
Harriet blocked it with her parasol.
“I won’t be cheated again,” he added.
The threat was obvious. He saw marriage as a business transaction, and he expected her to use it, bringing him a link to the nobility. If she did not do as he wished, she would not be the heir to his fortune. On the contrary, she and Mama would be subjected to the same sort of revenge that had killed her father.
“I’m glad we had this talk,” the old man said as they reached the house.
He seemed to think they’d resolved something. He had no idea how he’d fed Harriet’s burning desire to thwart him.
***
Over the next two days, Jack walked a spiraling path around Ferrington Hall, widening his ambit with each loop, searching for the lair of the lovely Miss Snoot. Her real name would have helped, but he had no doubt he would find her without it. Over the course of an errant life, he’d learned how to observe and gather information without attracting too much attention to himself. A bit of time and a few casual questions would tell him who lived in any likely houses he found. And it was no hardship to amble around the countryside on fine summer afternoons. He liked knowing the territory.
He had high hopes at first for a manor to the east, but he discovered it was inhabited by an old squire and his wife with no sign of any visitors. A large and prosperous farmstead seemed unlikely, given the dress and manner of his quarry, but he took the time to make certain. Finally, on the third day of his wandering, he came upon Winstead Hall, and something told him this was the place.
He circled the house at a distance, watching the builders at work on a new wing and the gardeners busy at their tasks. Drifting out to the surrounding fields, he surveyed the laborers until he found one with the look of a man who didn’t relish hard work. Leaning on the fence nearby, Jack said, “Good bit of building going on yonder.”
