“Yes, yes,” Jessop said, a reply Jonathan found terribly frustrating. Didn’t the fellow have any useful advice?
“She wanted to come to London,” he said, rather relishing the way the lawyer stiffened. “With me, now, tonight.”
“That would be most precipitate. Not to mention improper. She’s in mourning.”
“She doesn’t seem to care about that. She wants to do the season and find a husband,” Jonathan went on mercilessly, sensing the other man’s disapproval. “One with atitle, if possible.”
“You shall have to look into any suitors with great care, particularly the titled gentlemen she would meet during a London season. I don’t wish to offend you, Mr. Deverill, but I’ve found that most of these British lords who marry our American heiresses have mercenary motives.”
“Oh, I’m not offended, and I agree. I have no illusions about the aristocracy, believe me.”
The lawyer relaxed. “I’m relieved to hear you say that, though I’m a bit surprised. I understood that your late mother was the daughter of a viscount?”
“She was. She married beneath her, and her family disowned her for it.” As he spoke, he made no attempt to hide his disdain for Britain’s snobbish upper classes. “Our family was in newspapers—upstarts, unworthy of notice, particularly after my father’s mismanagement bankrupted the company. Society’s view of us only began to change six years ago.”
“Due to your silver mine, or your eldest sister’s marriage?”
“Both, I’m sure. Nothing like millions in the bank and a duke in the family to elevate one’s social position. My second sister also married into theton.”
“And your sisters like that life, do they?”
“From their letters, it seems they do, though I’ll never understand why. Still, if they’re happy, that’s all that matters. They deserve some happiness. Our father, God rest his miserable soul, was a difficult man. And I,” he added with cheer, “seem to have been equally difficult, at least in his opinion. When I was eighteen, he tossed me out, disinherited me, and told me to make my own way.”
“And you did.”
Jonathan shook his head. “Billy was the one who found the mine. I merely helped him work it.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Mr. McGann, though an excellent mining engineer, had no head for business. He was wise to let you handle the money. The investments you made provided both of you with a far greater fortune than the mine alone would have done.”
“I enjoy the challenge of making money, I confess.”
“And spending it?”
“That’s far less interesting.”
Jessop chuckled. “Spoken like a true entrepreneur. So, you’ve no desire to become a man of leisure, buy an estate, marry a lady, and become local squire to some English village?”
“God, no. I’m not a settling-down sort of chap. I was once...” He paused for another gulp of whiskey. “Not anymore.”
His mind flashed back to his youth, and the approving voice of his grandfather, who’d turned a handful of newspapers into a vast publishing empire.
You’ll take overDeverillPublishingone day, expand our fortunes. You’ll be the one to carry on my dream.
It had been Jonathan’s dream, too, until his grandfather’s death had changed everything.
This company’s mine now,his father’s voice echoed through his head, taunting him even from the grave.If I want your advice on how to run things, boy, I’ll ask you for it.
With an effort, he forced his mind out of the past. “No, Mr. Jessop, even without Billy alongside, I fear I’m destined to wander. The proverbial rolling stone.”
Jessop smiled. “That’s the image every bachelor has of himself. Until Cupid’s arrow hits him.”
Jonathan thought of his own experience there, of the girl who’d loved him madly when he was the grandson of a wealthy newspaper hawker, whose love had died the instant his father had disinherited him. He thought of his parents—his mother cast out by her family and friends because of her love for a middle-class rakehell, and his father, whose inherent weaknesses had become so obvious in the wake of her death. No, any illusions Jonathan may have had—about love, marriage, or anything else—were long gone.
“No worries,” he assured the lawyer, tapping his chest with his palm. “I’ve got armor plating.”
He noted the other man’s knowing smile in some amusement, but before the married Mr. Jessop could say something about how all men are broken to the yoke in the end, Jonathan changed the subject, for they didn’t have much time. “About Billy’s investments,” he said, gesturing to the documents on the table beside them, “I have concerns about the South African ones. This business with the Boers is getting sticky.”
“Yes, you’re wise to investigate now, before things get worse. Those investments are still lucrative, but if things become unstable, the value of the shares will plummet rapidly.”
