Now that was clever. Gerald appreciated the way she’d turned her refusal and mollified Stephenson. Already his color was subsiding and reason returned to his eyes. Regarding her steadily, he nodded. “I understand, ma’am, but I cannot give you long. Already I have an excellent offer for this property, and I must consider it. I have to make the proposition you have made me dependent on the one I offered you. Otherwise, I fear the decision is already made.”
Gerald could have hit the man. That meant, unless she married him, Stephenson was throwing her out. Such an unconscionable thing to do Gerald considered donating his property to her for free.
Not that she would have taken it. Already he knew her that well. Now he cared about her. He was involved, damn it.
Her shoulders tensed. He could have told Stephenson the worst way to get Annie to do what one wished was to force her into a corner. How come he, who had met her so briefly, knew more than a man who’d known her for years? Stephenson didn’t deserve her, that was for sure.
Perhaps he, Gerald, did.
The thought came from nowhere, to be instantly dismissed. Then he recalled their bargain. “I fear I too, must leave. I am fully engaged tomorrow until after dinner.” With Elizabeth and her mother, but he would skip the musicale. “May I suggest you view the property tomorrow, at six?”
“Could we make it seven o’clock? Then I can see the boys to bed.”
He liked that she gave her children the priority. Even more he liked the later hour. She had promised him a night in return for the house. Under the circumstances, he’d waive that condition, but he wouldn’t say so. Not yet.
If she asked him to waive it again, he’d say yes. He must be getting soft in his old age.
***
As soon as the earl left, Joseph turned on Annie. “You will not go, of course.”
“What makes you think that?” She kept her distance. His proprietary claim on her had infuriated her so much that she didn’t know how she kept hold of her temper. He assumed far too much. If she married him, he would have to learn that. “I may not have the influence or the wealth that you possess, sir, but I do retain the right to make my own decisions about my business.”
“Actually, it is your sons’ business.”
That was where he was wrong. She put up her chin. “The business is mine, sir. My husband left it to me. Because my sons are so small, he said, we could not know what would happen in the next ten to fifteen years. He trusted me to make the right decisions. Naturally he planned to change his will as our sons grew, but unfortunately he never achieved that ambition.”
She would not mention that she’d obtained power of attorney before her husband’s death. Despite his moodiness she would do anything for John to be alive and back with her. Then she would not have to face this dilemma. She had trusted and respected John, and now she felt all at sea. She only had herself to rely on these days
Joseph’s thick brows went up. “Then when you marry, your husband will inherit your property.”
Oh no, she would not have him thinking that. “I would, of course, have the business put in trust for my sons. It is their inheritance, sir, and nobody else’s. If we marry, then our sons would inherit your business, if you wished it. Surely you would not deny that to my late husband?”
His expression sharpened. Gazing at her, he shook his head. “No, madam, I would not. I can undertake to ensure your sons receive their inheritance, and I will help with drawing up the trust if that helps to ease your mind.”
At least his offer was fair. But his next words were not. “If you do not agree to our contract,” he murmured, leaning so close she smelled the onions on his breath, “I will eject you from this place. Merely business, dear lady. You may meet the man tomorrow night, but be sure to tell him you are not interested. Otherwise I swear I will ruin you both.”
Could he do that? She had no idea. He could certainly ruin her. Or he could try, she thought with slow growing anger.
She would most definitely meet the earl now, if only to warn him.
CHAPTER SIX
WHEN ANNIE ARRIVED AT THE HOUSE in Bunhill Row, night was falling. She wore her green silk, since he’d already seen the blue, and even while she was dressing, she was aware she’d done it for someone else. It had been a long time since she had dressed for any other reason than suitability for the event. She had even loosened her hairstyle a little, letting a curl fall to her shoulder in fashionable disarray. She did not go so far as to powder. Although some Cit’s wives had taken to hair powder, Annie found the process messy, and what was worse, time-consuming.
Nobody waited for her outside. Annie was about to take a turn up the street and back down again, being reluctant to be seen hanging around on the street like a streetwalker, when she noticed the door was slightly ajar. Had he arrived already, or were ruffians at work inside?
She would not go in, in case danger lurked inside, but she touched the door. Silently, it swung open. A movement from the hallway made her jerk back, but it was the earl.