“I think so too.” Harry slid several coins into the older man’s hands before taking the basket. “Thank you, Mr. Acres.”
Lucy sat outsidein the garden atop a large blanket, newspapers, notes, and books spread out around her. A pencil was stuck behind one ear as she moved the articles around, rereading them again in order, before leaning forward to scribble on a pad of paper. She had to make a compelling argument, enough to convince Harry to purchase a shoe factory. The entire week had been devoted to her research, when she wasn’t redecorating the house behind her. Lucy now knew a great deal about ready-made footwear, primarily the process required to create shoes and boots for the working class. The demand would only grow over time, and a factory or two engaged in supplying footwear would be a sound investment.
She smiled and nibbled on the end of the pencil. Harry would be convinced when he saw her argument for the shoe factory because she was correct.
Marriage to Harry Estwood was far better than Lucy could ever have hoped when she’d first proposed they wed. There was the physical desire, of course, and the pleasure they brought one another. A like-minded partner in business matters who encouraged and respected Lucy’s opinions. But more than that, Harry was herfriend. A trusted confidante. Their interests were in alignment. He treated her as an equal. Never dictated to her. Or ordered her about.
Lucy felt the heat crawl up her cheeks.
I told you a cravat has many uses, Lucy. Raise your arms.
At least…most of the time.
Suffice it to say, she was more than happy to be ordered about…under the right circumstances.
Lucy likened herself to a flower, finally given enough sunlight, water, and room to grow. Sheflourishedunder Harry’s care. Her feeling for him was profound, so much more than merely the love of a wife for her husband. Harry had given Lucy…herself. A most precious gift. She was ridiculously happy and dared to hope he would one day return her affection.
Yet there was still one small, troublesome item that threatened to destroy Lucy’s blissful new existence.
Three thousand pounds.
Not an enormous sum, in comparison to the large amount of money Harry had deposited in Lucy’s account. But she should have known that three thousand pounds wouldn’t be the end of it.
Lucy sat back on her knees, pressing a palm to her mid-section.
The second request, for the same amount, had come barely a month after her stepmother’s unexpected appearance inMiddlesbrough. And hoping that an additional three thousand pounds would finally be enough, Lucy had sent the amount.
I’m a fool.
Another letter had arrived just yesterday. Sally claimed the need for more funds was pressing. The situation was dire. Father’s horse farm was gone, as well as all the horses. He was under the constant care of a physician and might never recover. Had Lucy’smongrel of a husbandnot gone back on his word and called in Father’s debts?—
Lucy took a deep breath. Harry wouldn’t have done so, would he?
—she would not be forced to beg charity from her stepdaughter. This entire matter was Lucy’s fault, and it was herdutyto provide for her future brother or sister. Did she want them out on the streets?
She blew out a puff of air and looked across the lawn. She didn’t want to believe Harry would have called in Father’s markers, but if he had, it was likely because some action Father had taken had compelled him to do so. Her husband had little patience for deceit. Or Gerald Waterstone. Still, she’d sent a total of six thousand pounds to Sally thus far. The sum should have been more than sufficient.
“I need to tell him,” she whispered into the breeze.
Harry would be furious and consider Lucy’s charity nothing short of a betrayal. Sally was unlikely to stop her demands for money. She might even go to Harry directly. The longer the situation went on, the worse it would become. But thus far, Lucy had been too much of a coward to confess, afraid of destroying her newfound happiness, though the guilt over her actions grew by leaps and bounds every day.
“There you are.” A shadow fell over the blanket and Lucy’s scatter of papers and notes. She looked up to see Harry, grinning at her. Entirely pleased with himself.
“Here I am.”Your deceitful wife.
The sun glinted off his hair as he tossed his hat aside, turning some of the strands to copper. He hadn’t had a proper haircut since leaving London, and the sherry-colored waves fell over his ears, nearly touching his collar. There was mischief gleaming in his eyes as he rocked back on his heels.
“I’ve something for you, Mrs. Estwood.” He had his hands behind his back. “And not what you’re imagining, naughty girl. Stop ogling me.”
Lucy raised a brow and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at his blatant innuendo. “I merely glanced in your direction.”
“Leering, then.” He held out a basket, from which came small howls and whimpers. “A surprise for you.”
She took the basket, heart swelling with love for him. As she opened the top, two small heads popped out, eyeing Lucy with tiny purrs. One jumped into her lap, small claws sinking into her skirts before attempting to climb up her chest. “You—” Lucy’s throat thickened so much she couldn’t speak, touched by such a sweet gesture. “Were listening.” She blinked at the moisture gathering in her eyes.
“I always hear you, my lovely girl.”
“You do.” A tear ran down Lucy’s cheek.
