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“I don’t want yourmoney,” Rafe said as a cold fury gripped him.
“Oh.” The man seemed genuinely perplexed. “Then what do you want?”
Rafe’s hands tightened into fists. “I want you to give Sylvia what is owed to her,” he growled.
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“The house.”
Lionel had the audacity to laugh and shook his head. “I’ve no idea what she’s told you, but you must not know my sister very well. She forfeited all rights to her inheritance when she tarnished the family reputation.”
“Actually, I do. And it doesn’t work that way. You had an agreement, which you reneged on. You claimed to be desperate for funds, but it doesn’t appear that way to me.”
Lionel’s face fell, and any pretense of friendliness disappeared. “Whoareyou?”
Rafe ignored the question. “Someone needs to look out for her, as her own flesh and blood has failed miserably.”
“Well, I don’t give a damn—”
Rafe grabbed his shirtfront and pulled him closer. “Unfortunately, I do. Give her what she is owed.”
Fear flashed in the man’s eyes, but he still attempted to lift his chin. “And if I don’t?”
Rafe leaned in even closer. “Whatever ruination you think she caused will be nothing compared to what I will do to you,” he whispered calmly by his ear. “And with great pleasure.” Then he unceremoniously released Lionel, who stumbled backward. “You have twenty-four hours.”
Rafe then spun on his heel and walked over to Henry as every pair of eyes in the room followed him. “We should leave.”
Henry nodded and stood up. “You always did know how to cause a scene.”
Rafe picked up his glass and swallowed the remnants. “I learned from the best,” he said with a wink.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sylvia, what do you think of this?” Georgiana asked from her corner of the library. “Installing a classroom on-site for the children of the garment workers. They would have their own teachers and two meals a day.”
Sylvia glanced up from her notebook. “It’s marvelous. But can the business afford it?”
Georgianatsked. “It can if the board takes a comparatively minor cut in profit shares. And as I now own a majority, that won’t be an issue.” Her eyes glinted with purpose.
Sylvia smiled at her friend’s zeal for progress. Though Georgiana was publicly adhering to the strictest rituals of mourning, in private she had blossomed. Away from the prying eyes of society, she was even more relaxed than she had been in Scotland and was rarely without a smile on her face. She also had ambitious plans for the garment factories that had once been part of her dowry, which she now owned outright.
Between watching Georgiana come into her own and speaking her mind to Bernard yesterday, Sylvia was beginning to feel more optimistic about the future. She might have even been happy, if Rafe still wasn’t invading her thoughts on a regular basis.
Someone lightly scratched at the door before entering the room. It was Mossdown, Georgiana’s faithful butler, who had left her father’s house when she married.
“My lady, Mrs. Fernsby is here to pay her respects. Shall I tell her you are at home?”
As a widow still in deep mourning, Georgiana was supposed to remain housebound and receive visits only from intimate family members. But after nearly a month, she was starved for company.
“Aunt Violet wouldn’t exactly approve, but she’s still out with Mrs. Barnes. Please, show her in.” Once Mossdown left, Georgiana tossed her pen down and moved to the sofa. “Bertha Fernsbyalwayshad the best gossip. How do I look?”
“Like a very respectable widow.”
Georgiana smoothed the skirt of her black cashmere gown. “Excellent.”
A few moments later, Mrs. Fernsby breezed into the room. “Georgiana, darling!” she cried out and moved to embrace her. “Oh, I’ve been so worried for you.”
“I’m perfectly well, Bertha. All things considered.”
