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“I have my past. But I helped her solve certain problems in her present. Which is a powerful motivator for a woman. And while I am happy to have Emily here as long as she needs, it would be better for her if she were wed. I know you’re her brother’s friend, we both are, just as I can see she trusts you. I trust you.”
Jacob shook his head. “She did trust me. She just realized that I upended her life for nothing.”
“Ask her before you make that assumption,” Nick said. “She’s smart, even if she can’t read a document properly. And she’s kind and forgiving. I know Emily well enough to know that.”
Wingate might be right on both counts, perhaps he should find some useful information from Barrow first and then he could try and convince Emily of his value.
“One more thing.” Nick cracked his knuckles drawing in a deep breath. “I’ve seen you without her and I see you with her…don’t let her go. She’s too good for you to give up, my friend. You deserve this.”
Was Emily worth making an exception for? Absolutely. Was he worth her time and commitment? That was the real question. He could certainly convince her long enough to marry her, but would his marriage end up like his parents? It was a thought that made him ache all the way down to his marrow.
“I’d like to start back to London immediately. Find out why Barrow lied.”
Nick jerked his chin in agreement. “Use force if you have to.”
“Keep her safe while I am gone.”
“I will,” the duke answered. “Eat and bathe before you leave, you’ll feel better if you do.”
That was likely true. But he had a driving urge to keep the other promise he’d made to Emily. He’d find the pieces for her and help her put together her puzzle. Maybe then, he’d be worthy.
CHAPTER TWELVE
As much as Lucius knew about his client, Tinderwell was still a mystery. He stared into the hard, grey pools of other man’s eyes wondering what the merchant was thinking. Smoke from his cheroot crowned his square jaw and hard features only added to the ominous air that always hung about the other man.
“Try to understand, I told him she was penniless so that he’d lose interest. It made sense that an indebted baron would want her for her dowry.”
“You are seven times the fool,” Tinderwell grit out between clenched teeth, his gaze growing harder. “I’ve told you several times that Emily is as much the prize as her dowry. Just because he thought he couldn’t have one didn’t mean he didn’t want the other.”
Tinderwell frowned, he didn’t see her appeal. Then again, he didn’t see the appeal of most women. They were so needy, so soft. Nor did he understand Tinderwell’s infatuation, considering he already had one woman to please. Baroness Robinson. “You said it yourself, he won’t marry her. He won’t marry anyone. His mother has confirmed this—”
“Leave Matilda out of it.” Tinderwell slapped Barrow’s desk so hard, the inkwell fell over, dark ink spilling over its surface.
Barrow quickly reached for it, but ink was already seeping into the wood of the desk. “My lord,” his voice bit out, annoyed by the stain. Barrow could admit he’d underestimated Robinson, first that he’d remain interested in Emily after the lie, and second that he’d take the girl and the jewels north to the Duke of Wingate. The man was as powerful as they came. “We’ll have to create some sort of ruse to draw her out.”
Tinderwell stared at him for several seconds. “And how are we going to do that?”
Barrow licked his lips. He knew this moment was important. His future was on the line. With the money Tinderwell had promised him, he intended to leave England forever, start a new life. “We know that Robinson saved her from thieves, even brought her to his mother to protect her.”
A muscle in Tinderwell’s jaw ticked. “I’m not sure that was an asset and not a move I anticipated either.”
Barrow stilled, the other man wasn’t normally so candid. That was good. “Why do you think he stopped to see Matilda then?”
“Either he was desperate, or he truly doesn’t care about his mother’s claws. Which is a possibility. He’s lived with them his entire life. A mother who’d hatch a plot like that against her own son…”
Lucius leaned forward, truly interested. He knew that Tinderwell and Baroness Robinson were lovers, he’d gleaned that much from the beginning. She’d been the one to suggest that Emily would make a good bride for Tinderwell.
Because as much as she likely wanted Tinderwell for herself, both of them were in need of funds.
The man had overleveraged himself in his many business endeavors. But did the baroness know of the fixation Tinderwell had developed for Emily? The plan was that Tinderwell and the baroness share the funds from Emily’s dowry once the wedding happened. But in his estimation, Tinderwell was not a man to share with anyone. Not that he’d ask his employer as much. He knew better than that.
Barrow let out the smallest sigh. Curiosity was a devilish creature but one he’d like to satisfy none the less.
Tinderwell leaned forward then, his eyes two dangerous glints of grey in the shadowed room. “She’s beautiful beyond compare, or she was, Matilda, and she’s got a real mind for plotting but there isn’t much that is warm about that woman.”
“How did she know her son would try and take Emily?” he asked. He’d been wondering about that detail of late. And much as he shouldn’t ask, he couldn’t quite keep the question off his lips.
Tinderwell sat back in his chair, a half-smile on his lips. “That’s not her plot against her son. That is an unhappy coincidence.”
