Even after the lady’s reconciliation with her father, which he’d counseled against, she continued to show no interest in remarrying. Considering what it would mean to her control over her fortune, Chalmers understood her reluctance. She put off every man who approached with relentless kindness and grace but reject them she had.
Then she disappeared with Buchanan overnight on that ship. Oh, he’d known about it and had even followed her that morning. ’Twas not his place to interfere.
Now, it was a mess for even a fool could see that it was personal between them and not business.
Worse, he thought they would be a perfect pair together. For the lady though, he could not see her with him. Oh, she’d married herself a commoner and this one was a knight, a bit of a step up. It was the rest of what Chalmers knew of the man’s past that he understood would keep them apart.
He tossed another coin to the buxom maid on his way out.
It would be interesting to see what Buchanan did now that he would get what he wanted.
Or had the man gotten what he thought he wanted only to lose what was the most important thing in his life?
Iain stared atthe two packets of documents on his desk—one expected, the other one a shock. She’d promised him the deed if he handled the mess and here it was.
“I can see that is filed,” Cairns offered with a nod to the deed.
“Nay.” Iain covered the large envelope with his hand. “First make certain Ben is gone and without other problems. Between you and Mr. Brown, I’d like all of the business he handled reviewed before we move ahead.”
Once Iain had gained the identity of the person ordering Dougal Dubh’s attacks, he’d fired Ben, giving him a generous amount of money to keep him happy for a long time. Bertie had not even looked surprised by Iain’s discovery, almost as though he was waiting for it to happen after their blow up. It would take some time to be certain that he had no other personal endeavors going on alongside his actual assignments, but it was a necessity. Iain would not file any deeds or contracts until they had all been looked over.
Once more he would move forward, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his gut from the one man he’d considered a friend. A man who understood Iain’s drive and his hunger because it was like his own. A man who thought Iain’s desire for the widow threatened all they’d planned and had lost faith in their plan. A deep sense of sadness filled Iain, one that his pragmatism usually beat out of him, at the loss of one who’d stood so closely by him.
“And the other one?” Cairns asked. The man knew what was in it, for he’d prepared it himself.
“Unopened?”
“Given to me as it is, sir.”
“She never opened it.” Iain leaned back in his chair.
She’d never opened it, the reports he’d promised in exchange for her, her favors, her time... her body. Yet, she had followed his instructions, even his sensual orders, first at the hotel and then on his ship and denied him nothing.
Gave him everything he’d dreamt of and wanted, now thinking back to those hours in her company. She did not parse out bits. She threw herself into their time together fully, with curiosity and enthusiasm. No reservation or regret.
He accepted what she gave because it was their deal. Until that last morning when he had some niggling concern about keeping it as just business, so he could walk away unencumbered by regret or want for more. And Clare had agreed when he reminded her of the arrangement.
Had she already decided that she would not use what he’d sent her? Had she other reasons for their liaison, ones she did not tell him?
Why would someone like her allow someone like him to have her without some guarantee of protection or... more than that? If anyone saw them or discovered their trysts, she would face the humiliation of it, not him. If she became—
I cannot.
Two words filled with absolute yearning and cold desolation as a response to his question. Had she truly come to his bed for the pleasure he offered in exchange for nothing more than his help in avoiding suitors? And then left it just as easily?
“Anything else, sir?” Cairns asked.
“Nay. Just see to Ben’s files.” Cairns had reached the door when Iain spoke. “Cairns, put this in your files.” He handed the reports back to the man who’d created them. “We might have use for them.”
Cairns took them and left with a nod. Leaving Iain with the deed he’d been after for... years.
With the war over and the seas open once more, ships would once more rule the waters. Though he’d been lucky not to lose any vessels to Napoleon’s naval forces, he’d been biding his time and waiting for the time to expand his fleet and take on more business. The new offices would be a centralized location for representatives of all his companies in one place—increasing productivity and improving planning. Iain had begun in advance trying to acquire the site but now with the war finishing, now with the property in hand, he could make his move.
So why did just looking at an envelope holding a piece of paper make his stomach sour and the need to retch even stronger? And why did his head fill with a piercing pain? Why did this victory not feel like a victory?
Iain knew the answer. If she had actually asked him for the truth instead of making a devil’s bargain for the outcome she needed, he could have told her the truth and together they could have done something about it. If she had only not behaved as he did in making black and white decisions, he could have... they could have...
Clare had treated him as he treated her—a business arrangement. She had not crossed the line he’d drawn in the dirt—he had. He had wanted more than business. He’d wanted her to be there with him for himself and it looked like he had gotten what he wanted and walked away. The deed in his hand was another proof of his failure with her.
