How to Ruin a Reputation. Bronwyn Scott
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Название: How to Ruin a Reputation

Автор: Bronwyn Scott

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия: Mills & Boon Historical

isbn: 9781408943786

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ knife if need be. For all the wealth and fine trappings surrounding Trent, he was no gentleman. Henry had noted at the beginning of their association not to run afoul of Trent’s good humour. He very much feared he was about to do so.

      ‘There is good news,’ Henry began cheerfully. ‘My uncle did indeed set up a trusteeship for the running of the estate, as I told you he would.’ They needed to remember he had been right about some things. If it weren’t for him, they wouldn’t even have this opportunity to begin with.

      Trent’s eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘Who is the trustee, Bennington?’

      Henry looked at the four other men assembled, sensing their growing worry and, with it, their growing distrust of him. Of them all, he was the outsider. These five men had done business together before. ‘Three of us were named trustees: my cousin, Ashe, myself and the American, Mrs Ralston. We’ve all been given a share of influence when it comes how the estate is to be managed.’

      ‘What precisely is your share?’ Mr Ellingson, the group’s accountant, spoke up from the far end of the table.

      ‘Four per cent,’ Henry offered with feigned pride. He’d been livid over the slight all night. How dare his uncle reward him with so little after a year of his devotion. But Henry would be damned if he’d let this group of cut-throat investors see that disappointment. He went on to spell out the details of the other portions given to Ashe and Genevra while Ellingson stared at him thoughtfully, doing sums in his head.

      ‘This is not what we agreed upon,’ Trent put in after Henry had finished. ‘You said Bedevere wouldn’t come home, that he’d want to sell his shares, that he’d be lucky to receive any shares at all when you got through kowtowing to your uncle.’ The others murmured amongst themselves up and down the length of the table. Henry fought the urge to squirm. He’d been wrong about Ashe and therein lay the crux of his troubles. He’d wagered Ashe wouldn’t come home.

      Ellingson spoke up. ‘There’s only one thing for it. Bennington needs to wed the Ralston widow. Marriage will secure him the majority interest in the estate. Her control will pass to him upon marriage and give him fifty-four per cent.’

      Trent nodded with approval. ‘The Ralston chit is perfect.’

      Henry’s blood chilled a degree at the potential direction this conversation was heading. They were going to mandate marriage, his marriage, as if it were of no major import. ‘There’s always a possibility she’ll refuse me.’ Henry hedged.

      The table roared with congenial laughter. ‘You’re too handsome to be refused, Bennington.’ The man next to him clapped him on the back and Trent tossed a bag of coins on the table. ‘Buy her a pretty bauble and be done with it, Bennington. We’re an “I do” away from untold wealth. It would be a shame to falter here at the last.’ Trent surveyed the group. ‘Let’s meet again in a week and see how our young Romeo is progressing.’

      Henry smiled and pocketed the bag of coins, but he didn’t miss the implication of Trent’s dismissal. He had one week to secure the promise of matrimony to a woman he’d not choose to marry of his own volition. Since yesterday, his prospects had been steadily going downhill.

      Henry took the long road home, giving plans a chance to settle in his head. He would change clothes, then he would call on Genevra. The thought of pursuing her left a sour taste in his mouth. He had cultivated her friendship of course during the earl’s illness because it pleased the earl. The old man had doted on the pretty American. But Henry had seen right away how outspoken she was, how she would be the most non-compliant of wives. She would never give him full control of her money, even if she did happen to fall in love with him. He’d have to beg every shilling from her. It would be like asking his father for an allowance all over again. But it would be worth it, he reminded himself. There was much to be gained.

      On his suspicions, a bore hole dug four years ago on the outskirts of Bedevere land had produced a promising sampling of lignite, indicating a rich deposit of coal beneath the land. It stood to be the most plentiful coalfield in Audley, a piece of Staffordshire known not only for its hops and gardens, but for its coalfields as well. The possibility of attaining such wealth demanded extraordinary effort and the men he’d partnered with weren’t afraid to go to extremes. But so far, the extremes were all his. Aside from the money Trent’s cartel had put up, the risks had all been his. They hadn’t spent a year currying favour with the old earl, nor were they now facing a forced marriage.

      He had to keep his eye on the goal. He would go courting today and keep in mind the purgatory of those consequences would last only a short while.

      It had been a hell of a day and it was only two o’clock. Ashe pushed a hand through his hair, not caring that the action caused his hair to stand on ruffled ends and leaned back in the leather chair. At least here in the study he had the privacy he needed to think. There was so much to think about, it was hard to know where to start.

      He’d spent the morning going over the estate books, trying to get a sense of where to start first, assuming he’d come up with some funds. Did he start outside with the gardens or inside with the most-used rooms? Maybe he didn’t start with the house at all. Maybe he should start with the tenant farmers in ways that would generate income.

      Ashe sank his head into his hands. He didn’t know the first thing about managing an estate and there was no one to ask, unless one counted Henry. It would be a cold day in hell before he took that option. Ashe shut the leatherbound ledger. The numbers in the columns didn’t add up and there were bills to pay. Surely the horses listed as sold last autumn hadn’t gone for so little. The value posted in the ledger was half their worth. His father had kept prime cattle and knew their value.

      Ashe pushed back from the desk. The morning hadn’t been an entire waste. He’d done what he could with regard to bills, which had amounted to writing assurances to those who held Bedevere’s outstanding accounts telling them all would soon be remedied. He wasn’t sure how he would see it remedied, but they didn’t need to know that.

      He’d also sent off letters to London. One was a private message to his closest friend, Jamie Burke, asking him to look into Genevra Ralston’s background on the off chance that someone had heard of the American. That much money surely wouldn’t go undetected by society no matter what its nationality. If he was required to marry her, he wanted to know who she was and if there was any detrimental scandal attached to her name. It wouldn’t have been hard to hide such a thing from his father, but Mrs Ralston would find he was a bit more worldly than his father.

      The second was about money as well. He’d enquired about the potential of a loan, as futile as such an enquiry seemed. Ashe was under no illusions. If he could not prove he was the predominant regent, no bank would advance him any funds.

      Why does it matter? ventured the devil on his shoulder. If you don’t get the estate, why do you care if it goes to rack and ruin? If Henry wants it, let Henry figure out a way. If Mrs Ralston wants it, let her buy your shares and be done with it.

      Because it’s the right thing to do, regardless, answered the angel on the other.

      Because it’s my home, Ashe thought. Because he’d spent his life proving his father wrong. He wanted to prove his father was wrong here, too. His father and he had had their differences. Those differences had driven him away years ago, but he could not believe his father hated him that much, believed in him that little, to wrest Bedevere from him. Then again, his father had not planned on losing Alex. There’d never been a need for his father to consider leaving Bedevere to him. If only he could talk to his father one more time, try to explain why he’d had to go.

      The СКАЧАТЬ