His sacrifice was not lost to her.
Louisa adored him. She marveled at this change in him and in their newfound relationship, which grew closer and stronger with every passing day.
Together, they passed through the first-class corridor that led to their stateroom suite. Two rough-looking men in ill-fitting suits loitered before their door. These thugs did not look lost, though they appeared to belong in steerage based on their manner and dress.
“If it ain’t the penniless marquess,” said the taller of the two as they watched Lord and Lady Granborough approach, “and his millionaire missus.”
His Lordship’s hand stiffened against hers. His fingers clenched, and he bared his teeth at the harsh words of these rude men. With every footstep, he became more and more enraged.
The second thug spoke, saying, “We’ve come to remind you of your obligation. You’re due back in London, guv.”
Louisa refused to be intimidated by these strangers and refused to let her husband out of her sight. “You’re mistaken. He’s getting off the ship with me and we’re going to Granborough.”
She hated Pinkertons, for they were strikebreakers and union busters. She wasn’t afraid of them, if this was what they were, as they were motivated only by money, and their services were easily bought.
Money held no power overher.
She turned to her husband, asking, “Are we being extorted?”
“No, the debt is mine—my family’s—and I intend to pay it as soon as the funds clear.”
“With my dowry, you mean?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“I see.” Here was the reason why he’d married her. Louisa remembered their earnest conversation that morning. His parents were gamblers, spendthrifts, and schemers. None of this was his fault. He was merely trying to overcome the unfortunate circumstances to which he’d been born.
She opened the door to their cabin. To the thugs, she said, “You’d better come in, then.”
Their rough presence crowded the sitting room. The smaller of the two men kept his back to the door, guarding it, keeping an eye on His Lordship, who’d begun to sweat and shake.
Lord Granborough sank onto the sofa as if his legs had given out. He looked near to swooning. Clearly, he was humiliated by this confrontation. How long had these men pursued him, and why had he tried to keep his debts from her?
“How much are you in for,” she asked. The three of them standing on their feet circled him, putting on the squeeze. It was time for honesty between them.
He took a ragged breath before admitting, “£12,000.”
This was an eye-watering sum, yet her bank balance would cover it. There would be precious little left for Louisa to survive off of until her investments and allowances were paid out.
His Lordship reached for her hand, gripping it painfully. Wide blue eyes pleaded with her. “No, dear, do not pay the debt! Let them take my teeth or break my nose!”
She withdrew her hand from his, gathering her skirts to kneel before him. “I prefer my husband to be handsome—not that you’d be any less good-looking with false teeth and a crooked nose, but I’d prefer not to see you harmed. Let me help you, Giles.”
“I had hoped to keep this from you,” he said, defeatedly. “I had hoped to keep you from being tainted by all this unpleasantness. My debts aren’t yours…”
“They’re not yours either,” she argued, “but now they’reours. It lies within my power to help you clear your name, to start fresh and unencumbered. Will you let me you, or would you have these Pinkertons take out your kneecaps?”
With his consent, she rose and retrieved her bank book. She placed the leather ledger upon the sitting room table, and wrote out the check in a flourish, signing it ‘Louisa Granborough,’for the very first time in her life.
“I demand a receipt of payment,” she said to the taller thug, “and your word that all of His Lordship’s debts are cleared. Your employer, this man Herbert, will be satisfied by this?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She handed him the ink pen. “I require an assurance of that.”
They scribbled a receipt onto Cunard Line stationery, which Louisa tucked into her bank book. Returning her focus to the men, she said with all the derision she could muster, “Now, get out. If I see you again, I’ll have you thrown in the brig.”
The rude man laughed in her face. “Civilian vessels ain’t got brigs.”
