he proved an able businessman and reinvigorated the Sutcliffs’ old and ill-managed money. He’d even earned the title of first Baron Gordon for supplying the Crown with ships during the Seven Years’ War, thus elevating their family to the peerage for the first time. Indeed, a knack for business seemed to be a family trait, and with her grandfather’s death, Kate’s father not only inherited his title, but the company as well. In turn, he’d shared his knowledge with his two children…or at least, he’d tried. The fact was, though, only one of them really took to it: his skinny, freckled daughter. And that would have been perfectly fine if only she’d been a skinny, freckled son.
Kate’s father had indulged her anyway. He let her tag along to the boatyard to inspect the account books with him, and she’d paid attention, absorbing everything she could. As she grew older, she’d frequently been her father’s sole companion—by the age of ten, Robert had left for Eton, followed by Oxford. He’d learned Latin and ancient Greek and how to be a member of the ruling class…but never, alas, how to tie a decent knot.
But Kate was different. From a very young age, hardly a day had passed in which she didn’t visit her father’s boatyard. Over the years, this habit raised quite a few eyebrows around the village, and it was rumored that the new baron was terribly eccentric, if not completely mad, for allowing his daughter such free rein. Eventually, however, her cheerful smile, bony elbows and abundant freckles endeared her to even the oldest of the old salts. Although she had since grown into her elbows and lessened her freckles with Dr. Calloway’s Lemon Complexion Balm, her presence was still grudgingly accepted—and secretly enjoyed.
Of course, this acceptance hinged on the fact that very few people really knew the true extent of her involvement in the company. Kate’s father sensibly feared that even the most loyal employee would balk at the idea of taking orders from a young, pretty female. But the truth was that once he became too ill to head the company himself, Kate had stepped fully into his shoes. Out of necessity, Alfred and Sons’ longtime clerk, Andrew Hilton, was named the company’s director—after all, what self-respecting businessman would agree to deal with a mere slip of a twenty-odd-year-old girl? But Kate knew every detail of every meeting, and not a single decision was made without her approval.
She wasn’t quite sure how it had come about, really. Perhaps it was simply because her father knew that there was none other as qualified as she, and Robert had little desire to be called away from London to slave over company ledgers. The reason didn’t really matter. Kate knew she had placed herself into a role that women weren’t allowed to play, and that she would become a social pariah if it were ever discovered.
This arrangement had worked well enough throughout her father’s illness but became a little tricky after his death. His title and nearly all of the family property—the house in St. James’s, the house in Little Brookings, another in Surrey—had passed on to Robert. Kate was given a dowry of four thousand pounds a year.
And Alfred and Sons?
In the strangest turn of events, it passed from father to daughter.
When her father wrote his will, he intended for his family to carry on as they always had, with none the wiser. He left the company and all its holdings to Kate…with a clause: she would inherit the company fully only after she wed. It was a purely practical consideration—lacking a father, she’d need a husband to ensure her legitimacy. Until she married, Andrew Hilton would continue to serve as nominal director. It should have been very simple.
But shortly after her father died, Hilton made it clear that he wanted more than nominal control. Although he’d never shown any interest in Kate as anything but the daughter of his employer, he suddenly began waging a serious war for her hand.
At first, she’d shrugged off his advances as harmless, but lately they’d become impossible to ignore. Most recently, he’d begun resorting to coercion, threatening to expose her role in the company and thus destroy everything her father had worked for.
Kate couldn’t allow that to happen, but as an unmarried woman she had little legal recourse, nor could she seek protection from the courts—to tell anyone would betray her role in the company. She couldn’t confide in her brother, either. Normally, he was completely disinterested in Alfred and Sons, but if he knew she was in any sort of danger he’d force her to give up all involvement with the company. He might even make her sell it. As the head of the family, he could do that.
The only solution she could come up with was to get married, and that was what she was determined to do: quickly and conveniently, romance not required.
There was nothing unusual about Ben’s impromptu overnight stay. He’d known Robert since they’d been at school together, and when the season was in full swing and the drinks flowed a little too freely, he frequently availed himself of his friend’s hospitality. Since Ben had been at sea for the past six months, however, his presence now was unexpected.
The two men were seated in Robert’s breakfast room. Robert was tucking in eagerly to a large plate of eggs and rashers while Ben pushed his helping more aimlessly around his plate. Occasionally, Robert looked up from his food and smiled, but gave up almost immediately upon seeing his friend’s dark countenance.
“So…how’s business?” Robert asked after several minutes, obviously trying to fill the silence. “You’ve been away for a while. Everything in order?”
A dull ache had invaded Ben’s brain that morning and he’d have been just as happy if they didn’t talk at all. “Speak quietly,” he whispered, “business is fine.”
“I thought this shipping business of yours was only a lark, Ben. It sounds suspiciously like work. You look exhausted.”
Ben ignored that. Unlike most ship owners, he liked to oversee many of the day-to-day operations of his business and often accompanied his crew on their voyages. He’d discovered his love of the sea during his Grand Tour, and once he’d returned to England he’d found that life on solid ground no longer satisfied him. He’d become involved in shipping as a diversion, really, hoping to find some way to alleviate the deadening boredom of high society. Somehow, though, he’d become completely caught up in the business. He found that he thrived on hard work, liked having a reason to get up in the morning and loved the thrill of traveling somewhere new. He kept this part of his personality largely concealed from his jaded friends, however.
And anyway, the reason for his current exhaustion had nothing to do with work.
Robert was still watching him. “Had a rough night, eh?”
Ben just grunted. Robert hadn’t any idea how rough, and Ben felt certain that he wouldn’t actually like to know the details of how his best friend had nearly seduced his sister. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d done it himself. Granted, he’d been slightly foxed when he’d arrived, having stopped at his club for a drink en route. Perhaps his judgment had been a bit flawed….
No. Best just to pretend it hadn’t happened. “Tell me again when the wedding is to be?”
Robert smiled. “Fifteenth of September. Charlotte had the devil of a time getting her mother to agree to it—not to her marrying me, of course, but to doing it so quickly. Told me it was scandalous, the old bag. Horse Face must have ceremony. But I held firm. A man can only wait so long. Six months it shall be. But it is a squeeze, I know. Reckon there’s a lot to do…dresses and flowers and such nonsense. I’ve elected to leave that business to the women, not that they’d want my help anyway. Charlotte has already begun to send out invitations like mad…on top of that, I have a host of bloody decorators to contend with because Horse Face says my home is entirely unsuitable.” He shook his head ruefully.
