The Property of a Gentleman. Helen Dickson

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The Property of a Gentleman - Helen Dickson Mills & Boon Historical

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meaning to tell him she was in control of herself. He felt a stirring of admiration for the way in which she conducted herself, but looking into her lovely violet eyes he could see they were as turbulent as storm clouds and that she had withdrawn inside herself to a place where she could not be reached.

      ‘This has come as a shock to you, I can see,’ he said, glad to be out of earshot of the others.

      ‘Yes. I am both shocked and disappointed. I cannot imagine what prompted my father to do this,’ she said, trying to keep a stranglehold on her emotions, ‘unless, of course, he had a momentary lapse of his senses when he saw fit to make these conditions in his will in the first place. But the last thing I want right now, Mr Fitzalan, is a husband—and when I do I would prefer to choose my own.’

      Faced with her anger, Marcus paled and his eyes glittered like steel flints as he tried, with great difficulty, to keep his own anger in check, knowing exactly why she was doing her utmost to make matters as difficult as possible between them. She was still embittered by what had happened between them three years ago—although why she should continue to be so baffled him, for she had no one to blame but herself. Was it usual that the moment her will was crossed she started the sparks flying and spitting fire?

      ‘And I have no more need of a wife than you a husband, Miss Somerville,’ he replied, his voice carrying anger. ‘However, if we want to hold on to the mine then we have no choice but to heed your father’s wishes and make the best of it.’

      ‘And how do you know that is what I want? How can you possibly know?’ she said, her voice as cold as her face, whilst inside her stomach was churning. ‘As far as I am concerned the mine is the last thing on my mind at this moment. Marriage to me is important and I am hardly likely to walk into it blindly with a man who has treated me so abominably—to put my trust and myself completely in your power for the whole of my life. Besides, it is hardly flattering to know you would only be marrying me for what I could bring, Mr Fitzalan.’

      ‘The same could be said of yourself, Miss Somerville,’ he replied coldly. He gave her a hard look, his mouth tightening as he stared down at her. ‘Are you always so difficult?’

      ‘I can be as impossible as I like when something—or someone—upsets me,’ she answered.

      He arched an eyebrow. ‘Really?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Then I suppose that is something I shall have to get used to if we are to make anything of your father’s will. Tell me, are you well acquainted with Gerald Somerville?’

      ‘No. I believe he has been in London himself and has only returned to the north this last week. We have met frequently over the years, but I cannot say that I know him at all well. My grandmother does not hold him in high regard and saw nothing of him while she was in town.’

      Marcus’s lips twisted with slight scorn. ‘How could she? The kind of world your father’s cousin inhabits is a nighttime world of gambling and high living. There is no polite way to describe him. He is a slippery character and he has only one motive in life: to serve himself. He’d be considered a joke if he were not so ruthless in everything he does. He is to be found anywhere the beau monde chooses to congregate, and has an inability to resist the gambling halls and social whirl of London.’

      ‘That I am already aware of.’

      ‘His own estate is falling apart and bankruptcy is staring him in the face. He has lived in penury for most of his life and Sir John’s death has suddenly elevated him to an attainable position. I do not believe it will be too long before the estate shows signs of neglect as he uses it as a means to pay off his debts—which, I know for a fact, are astronomical.’

      Wanting desperately to escape the threat she imagined this overbearing man suddenly posed to her life, Eve stepped back from him abruptly. ‘Do you think I haven’t worked that out for myself? It’s what I have always known. But it would seem you know Gerald well, Mr Fitzalan. Perhaps he frequents the same seedy establishments as yourself—is that it?’

      ‘I am very particular in choosing my friends, Miss Somerville,’ Marcus replied scathingly, choosing to ignore her outspoken attack on his social habits. ‘Your father’s cousin has a reputation for spending far more than his own father could support when he was alive. It is my misfortune to be a member of the same club—White’s in St James’s—and I was witness to him squandering his entire fortune at the card tables at a single sitting.’

      Eve stared at him in astonishment. ‘Might I ask how much?’

      ‘If you are interested. It was thirty-five thousand pounds.’

      She was stunned, unable to believe anybody could lose so much money, although her Aunt Shona had told her on one of her visits to London, that the rattling of a dice box or ill luck at cards, could well result in many a gentleman’s country estate being lost, and that as a result suicides were not uncommon.

      ‘But that is an enormous sum of money.’

      ‘Indeed it is. It is not something that can be dismissed with a flick of the wrist.’

      ‘And what did he do? Could he pay?’

      Marcus smiled indulgently at her naïvety. ‘No. His estate was already mortgaged up to the hilt. Facing ruination, anyone else would have shot himself—but not Gerald Somerville. He took the only option and borrowed the money from unscrupulous moneylenders—who, on learning of your father’s death and knowing Gerald was his heir, have called in the loan…with astronomical interest. These men are ruthless and show no mercy to those who cannot pay. I have heard that they are exerting enormous pressure on him, so I don’t wonder at his anger on finding Atwood Mine is not his by right. He is in deep water. He needs it desperately to pay off his loan and get the these men off his back.’

      Eve was astounded to learn all this. ‘I—I had no idea Gerald’s situation was so serious.’

      ‘Yes, it is. Inheriting your father’s estate will have come as a godsend to him—but your father has seen to it that he has not come into a fortune. Through his own hard work and good management the estate has never been so prosperous, and if Gerald is sensible and takes legal advice on how to settle his loan, then it will continue to be so—but if he does not mend his ways then I am afraid that in no time at all you will begin to see signs of its decline. Everything your father has worked so hard to achieve will be eradicated in one fell swoop.’

      Eve winced, the very idea of her beloved home being mortgaged to pay off Gerald’s gambling debts and falling into the greedy hands of moneylenders and suchlike angering her beyond words. But there was nothing she could do.

      ‘Which is why your father made quite sure his financial affairs were put in order before he died.’

      ‘It’s a pity he did not consider putting me before his financial affairs,’ Eve remarked bitterly. ‘It seems to me that I was as much his property as Atwood Mine.’

      ‘But a more desirable property,’ Marcus smiled, his expression softening.

      ‘Am I?’ she remarked coldly. ‘I’m glad you think so, Mr Fitzalan, but that does not alter the fact that you cannot have one without the other—or, at least, you cannot have the mine without me, whereas you would not have me without the mine by choice.’

      Marcus frowned with annoyance. ‘You do me an injustice, Miss Somerville. I am not nearly as mercenary as you make me out to be.’

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