Chapter Ten

 

The air in the study was heavy as Johnathan attempted to keep rein on his frustration. He looked forward to the day when everything was in place so he would no longer need to deal with the man before him.

“I have heard talk this past week that you will be gaining new trades,” Lord Charles Burkley said in his high, nasally tone. He tugged on the ends of his sleeves in an irritating manner, and it took everything in Johnathan to not slap the man’s hand away and ask him to sit still as if he were a child rather than a duke. “If this is so, I am happy for you.” His tone led Johnathan to think he did not believe what he had been told as truth, but when Johnathan went to respond, Lord Burkley lifted a single finger at him. “Understand, until I see the contracts, I will not risk placing any more orders. It is that simple.” He rose from his chair in a clear message that the conversation had ended.

Johnathan despised being put into this position, but he played the game nonetheless. He stared down at the floor in mock humility and said, “I understand. The contracts will be completed soon, and I will send a messenger the moment they are signed.”

The pompous man sniffed. “Do not allow it to be too long. I have other people with whom I can order what I need; perhaps at a higher price, but they are ready and willing to begin tomorrow if I choose to use their services.” He took his hat and coat from the footman. “I will see myself out.”

“Good riddance,” Johnathan mumbled as he closed the door to the study after the man left.

His frustration, however, was aimed not solely at the Duke, but even more so at Miss Huntington and how long it was taking to win her over. Though he had boasted to her father that their agreement was near completion, he wished it actually was so. His marriage to Miss Huntington was now more important than ever, for, without the contract with Mr. Huntington, Johnathan would be required to go through another merchant at a much higher cost for the goods he needed in order to fulfill the order which Lord Burkley wished to place. Then, in order to make any profit at all, he would have to raise the price of the cushions Lord Burkley had promised to order, and in turn, ruin his reputation as a reputable and trustworthy party. Yes, it was time to convince Miss Huntington to marry him, and the sooner, the better.

He poured himself a brandy, walked over to the window and looked outside. Margaret walked down the path, her body swaying in a provocative manner. If—no—when everything fell into place with the Huntingtons, Johnathan would no longer need Margaret as often as he did currently. He did plan on keeping her on in case the lovely Miss Huntington proved to be as much of a prude as she pretended to be. However, something told him that she would be much different from what he had first expected. Though he would never allow himself to love anyone, he would allow her to love him. She would come to desire him and be thankful he sought his pleasure in her arms rather than those of other women.

His mind returned to their last meeting. She had shocked him with her views on love, though why what she shared would shock him was surprising in itself due to the fact that she had chosen not to marry and reveled in the fact she was a spinster. Most women thought of love as it was presented in novels—some sort of gushing affair where a man worshiped a woman and acted the fool to earn her trust and love. However, that adoration did not truly exist, not in Johnathan’s opinion, and he was pleased that Miss Huntington saw it for what it was: a farce. Since they agreed on this key point, then perhaps they could eventually learn to become friends and even to care for each other.

He shook his head and wondered from where such absurd sentiments came as he downed the last of his brandy in one swallow. Those types of foolish notions were a guaranteed disaster. No, he would use her for his needs, for his pleasure, for the same reason he kept Margaret in his employ, only with one caveat: she would produce a legitimate heir.

Speaking of Margaret, it was time to let her know she would be needed this evening, and Johnathan had no doubts that the woman would readily agree.

“My Lord.”

Johnathan’s heart leapt into his throat and he spun around, almost dropping his brandy glass in the process. Stanton stood at the door, one hand behind him and the other extended before him holding a silver tray.

“Stanton, you startled me.”

“I apologize, My Lord. A messenger delivered a letter from Mr. Huntington just a few moments ago. He has said the message is urgent and that a reply is required as soon as possible.”

Johnathan waved Stanton over and took the letter from the tray. What could the man possibly want that required Johnathan to respond immediately? Had he not been to visit Miss Huntington just three days prior? Did the man not realize that Johnathan had business to conduct? He opened the letter and read the contents:

 

Lord Blackmoore,

 

I hope this letter finds you well. It is with great distress that I inform you that our daughter, Alice, who is to be your intended, has run away. She left Glassberry Estate two days past and we do not know where she has gone.

 

As per our agreement, it is your responsibility to see that Alice agrees to marry you, so it will also be your responsibility to find her and bring her safely back. If you do not do so, then we will call the agreement null and void.

 

Please send an immediate reply with my messenger.

 

Sincerely,

Mr. Dudley Huntington

 

Johnathan screamed a string of curses as he threw the empty brandy glass at the nearest wall, where it shattered, the crystal shards tinkling to the floor in a glittering pile. “How dare he put this one me,” he shouted. “And that woman has gone too far.” He seethed as he went to his desk and sat down. His mind raced through every scenario he could bring to mind as he sat with his hands clasped on the desktop in front of him.

“My Lord, may I do anything to help?” Stanton asked with concern.

“No. Not yet. Wait,” came Johnathan’s curt reply. He felt a twinge of guilt for speaking so to a man who had been of great support to him, but he needed time to think and formulate a plan. Miss Huntington was a woman, so that would make his job that much easier. Men could hide themselves quite easily, but women did not have the skills or ability to stay hidden for long. In which direction would she have run and where could she be heading? He slammed his fist on the desk. In any other situation, he would have left her to her own devices, and good riddance to her. However, his empire depended on her acceptance of his marriage proposal, so he needed to find her—and soon.

“Prepare my horse and clothes for travel. I may be gone for some time, so let anyone who inquires after me know that my sister Beatrice has taken ill.”

“Of course, My Lord,” Stanton replied.

Johnathan grabbed a quill, dipped it into the ink, took a single sheet of paper and began to write. A few minutes later he signed his name and then motioned to Stanton to take it.

Once Stanton was gone with the hastily written reply, Johnathan went to the bottle of brandy and poured himself a half of a glass. He had been humiliated before, but this time the woman who walked out on him would not get away with it.