believe this.” Paul paced about the room, his stomach churning. “How could you…? What the hell happened to it all?”
His father’s silence pressed against his back. God, he’d thought at least his future was secure. But now it appeared he had to make his own fortune. Bloody hell!
“I’m sorry, son,” his father said at last. “Perhaps if you increase your government work…”
Paul turned to glare at him. “What happened to all of it, Father?”
His father pulled back, suddenly looking all of his fifty-three years. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
His father closed his eyes, his skin ashen. Swallowing any pity, Paul let out a grunt of frustration and stalked out of the townhouse.
What the bloody hell had happened to all of his father’s deeded properties? How could he marry Michelle now, with his prospects so cloudy? He needed to be certain of his ability to provide for her and any children they might have. And if last night’s passionate display was any indication, it wouldn’t be long after their wedding before he had another mouth to feed.
He leaned his head back and took a deep breath. Well, he’d have to increase his government work, now. Damn, he could think of more pleasant ways to spend his time. More clients meant more speeches, true. And that meant more money in the long run.
The wedding would simply have to wait.
“Forgive me, Michelle.”
He wouldn’t put off his engagement, however. He’d die before he’d let another man have the chance to win her away from him.
* * * *
It was tea time, and Michelle stood in the parlor. Her mother waited with her, her needlework in her lap as she kept up a steady stream of instructions for her daughter.
“Now, Michelle,” Lady Helen began, “when Lord Leed arrives, you’re to remain here with me. If your father was still alive, you would leave the room.”
Michelle simply nodded, knowing no response was expected. Her mother had begun her recitation twenty minutes earlier, and was now repeating herself.
“But seeing he’s no longer with us, God rest his soul, you must remain here with me,” Lady Helen continued. “You should sit over by the window while the gentleman informs me of his intentions. When he arrives, you should—”
“Mother, please,” Michelle cut in. “I understand your instructions fully.”
Lady Helen blinked at that. “Are you certain, dear?” she asked as if she were speaking to a very small child.
“Yes, Mother.” Michelle rolled her eyes heavenward. “I’m quite certain.”
“Well, despite your assurances that Lord Leed finds your opinions palatable I advise you to keep quiet when—”
“Mother, please!”
Lady Helen held her tongue and returned her attention to the piece of needlework she worried in her hands.
The butler soon announced Paul’s arrival. Michelle sat in the chair by the window, unconsciously following her mother’s instructions.
Lady Helen told the butler to show Paul in and set her needlework aside. “Good afternoon, Lord Leed.”
“Good afternoon, Lady Helen.” He bowed and turned to his intended. “Lady Michelle.”
Lady Helen spoke to Paul as Michelle ran her gaze over him. When she brought her eyes up to his face he quirked a smile at her. Ooh, that dimple. She recovered herself and bowed her head in answer to his greeting.
He turned back to her mother. “I would like a word with you, Lady Helen.”
“Certainly, Lord Leed.”
Paul sat on the settee facing Lady Helen. He cast a glance at Michelle, who immediately feigned interest in the pleats of her skirt. Her ears pricked as he began his request.
“Lady Helen,” he began, “it would do me a great honor if you would give me your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
Lady Helen waited a beat, and Michelle’s heart nearly stopped. “Oh, yes, Lord Leed,” she said at last. “I would be delighted to do you the honor!”
Paul grinned, standing to bow low to his future
His father’s silence pressed against his back. God, he’d thought at least his future was secure. But now it appeared he had to make his own fortune. Bloody hell!
“I’m sorry, son,” his father said at last. “Perhaps if you increase your government work…”
Paul turned to glare at him. “What happened to all of it, Father?”
His father pulled back, suddenly looking all of his fifty-three years. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
His father closed his eyes, his skin ashen. Swallowing any pity, Paul let out a grunt of frustration and stalked out of the townhouse.
What the bloody hell had happened to all of his father’s deeded properties? How could he marry Michelle now, with his prospects so cloudy? He needed to be certain of his ability to provide for her and any children they might have. And if last night’s passionate display was any indication, it wouldn’t be long after their wedding before he had another mouth to feed.
He leaned his head back and took a deep breath. Well, he’d have to increase his government work, now. Damn, he could think of more pleasant ways to spend his time. More clients meant more speeches, true. And that meant more money in the long run.
The wedding would simply have to wait.
“Forgive me, Michelle.”
He wouldn’t put off his engagement, however. He’d die before he’d let another man have the chance to win her away from him.
* * * *
It was tea time, and Michelle stood in the parlor. Her mother waited with her, her needlework in her lap as she kept up a steady stream of instructions for her daughter.
“Now, Michelle,” Lady Helen began, “when Lord Leed arrives, you’re to remain here with me. If your father was still alive, you would leave the room.”
Michelle simply nodded, knowing no response was expected. Her mother had begun her recitation twenty minutes earlier, and was now repeating herself.
“But seeing he’s no longer with us, God rest his soul, you must remain here with me,” Lady Helen continued. “You should sit over by the window while the gentleman informs me of his intentions. When he arrives, you should—”
“Mother, please,” Michelle cut in. “I understand your instructions fully.”
Lady Helen blinked at that. “Are you certain, dear?” she asked as if she were speaking to a very small child.
“Yes, Mother.” Michelle rolled her eyes heavenward. “I’m quite certain.”
“Well, despite your assurances that Lord Leed finds your opinions palatable I advise you to keep quiet when—”
“Mother, please!”
Lady Helen held her tongue and returned her attention to the piece of needlework she worried in her hands.
The butler soon announced Paul’s arrival. Michelle sat in the chair by the window, unconsciously following her mother’s instructions.
Lady Helen told the butler to show Paul in and set her needlework aside. “Good afternoon, Lord Leed.”
“Good afternoon, Lady Helen.” He bowed and turned to his intended. “Lady Michelle.”
Lady Helen spoke to Paul as Michelle ran her gaze over him. When she brought her eyes up to his face he quirked a smile at her. Ooh, that dimple. She recovered herself and bowed her head in answer to his greeting.
He turned back to her mother. “I would like a word with you, Lady Helen.”
“Certainly, Lord Leed.”
Paul sat on the settee facing Lady Helen. He cast a glance at Michelle, who immediately feigned interest in the pleats of her skirt. Her ears pricked as he began his request.
“Lady Helen,” he began, “it would do me a great honor if you would give me your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
Lady Helen waited a beat, and Michelle’s heart nearly stopped. “Oh, yes, Lord Leed,” she said at last. “I would be delighted to do you the honor!”
Paul grinned, standing to bow low to his future
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