Maggie scoffed. “My, you are dramatic.”
“No. I’m not. I hope you never have to see how that type of work destroys a person. It’s one of the reasons I won’t deal in cotton.”
“Why not cotton?”
“The process used to create it is dangerous to those working the machines, small children often. And if you do not die a violent death in the maw of a machine, you die a slow one at home. I believe it cannot be wholesome to breathe in the fibers cast into the air day in, day out. Cotton is unavoidable, unfortunately, in much of our garments. But it is a nasty business, nonetheless.” He stared out the window at the inky black sky. “My father does not own plantations, but he deals with them.” He shivered.
Maggie nodded. She’d heard of the brutality of slave labor even in the picturesque hills of Yorkshire. “If not cotton, then what?”
A bright smile broke across his face. “Do you know we can grow the fibers for silk right here in England? Wool and linen, too. And silk is … it’s a fascinating process and a fascinating material, so various. The creation of a bolt takes longer but can be done in a humane way. The men and women who make silk are artists. You would like that, I think.”
She did like that. She liked, too, the thought he’d put into his enterprise, his desire to protect those who tied their life and well-being to his.”
“It’s your turn, Lady Magnificent.”
“Hm?” She turned.
Tobias gazed intensely at her chest.
“I don’t know what you expect!” Her arms crossed protectively over her torso. “But—” A rectangular bulge cut into her arms. Her notebook. She’d stuffed into the top of her banyan. “Oh. Yes, I see. My turn to tell you my secret.”
“After having unburdened my heart to you, it’s only fair. If you do not, I’ll die of curiosity. Do you truly want my death on your dainty little hands?”
She pulled the notebook from its hiding place. She had to show him the sketches without him seeing the list of possible blackmail marks.
“I won’t hurt it,” Tobias said softly. “I won’t hurt you.”
She pressed her eyes tightly closed, opened the notebook to the very first page, and handed it over quickly before she could change her mind. Perhaps once he got to the first few blank pages that separated the sketches and her list, he’d close the book, believing he’d seen all there was to see. He had to. She’d really be ruined if he delved further into the book’s pages.
He held the notebook like it was an ancient religious icon and opened the cover. His eyes scanned the first page meticulously from left to right, top to bottom before he turned the page and repeated his pursual. He repeated this process until he got to her final sketch—the heart that was an eye. He studied it longer than the others, and each second was an agony to Maggie. Her arms tingled, ready to shoot out and grab the book should he turn even one more page.
He closed the book and set it beside him on the bed, and Maggie’s entire body loosened in relief.
But the relief was short-lived. He caught her gaze, his eyes dark pools of intensity. “You are a marvel. Did you know that? I thought I came here in need of a business partner, but I think I was wrong. I can admit it when necessary. It appears, Lady Magnificent, I’m not in need of a business partner so much as I’m in need of you.”
Chapter 9
Unsure how to respond to Tobias’s exclamation, Maggie picked up the notebook and stuffed it back into her banyan. She’d never felt so relieved to have it so near her heart.
Tobias leaned over the space between them with earnest eyes. “You’re gifted. I’ve noticed you fidget, moving your finger over any surface nearby—a tabletop, a flat stone, your skirts stretched over your leg. You dislike artists, but you are one yourself.”
Maggie cringed. “Not really.” She’d just been anxious, of late, and sketching soothed her … and hid her other, more nefarious activities.
“It’s a wonder your parents haven’t marched you out as a genius. Paraded you over and over again in front of their guests.”
“My parents don’t know. No one does but me. And you now.” One other man knew, as well, but presently, it was no time for such a revelation.
Some emotion flew over his face, but she could not read it in the shadows. “I’m honored.” He reached for her hand, held it in his own. “I asked you a question, Lady Magnificent. Do you have an answer?”
She shook her head, letting her bafflement show. “Other than honor and saving my reputation, what reasons do we have to marry?”
“Those are reasons enough.”
“Not for me. It would make us too unequal. I get a renewed reputation and the beginning of a new life. But what do you get if we marry? Are all the benefits to be on my side alone?”
“Oh, I anticipate benefiting much more than you. I’m afraid I’ll come out ahead. First, I can use your sketches for my fabrics. Don’t worry, I’ll give you credit. Second, as my wife, you’ll have to keep my secrets, I’m afraid. And third, you can help me do good with my business venture, find ways to benefit more than just those who buy our wares for exorbitant sums.”
Our wares. He already considered them partners. A thrill ran up her spine. His proposition more than intrigued her. Her parents had never done more with art than make more art, but if Tobias could convince the rich to empty their pockets into his purse, then couldn’t she use that for good? Beautiful baby blankets, for a start. No. The start would have to be making sure her home wasn’t auctioned off to the highest bidder.
