“You are not listening,” Pickering-Parks said. “I cannot entrust my reputation as a fossil collector to your shop. That is what I’m here to tell you.”
Maggie’s stomach sank like a boulder.Blooming hell, I can’t afford to lose this idiot too.
She regrouped quickly. “We’ve earned your trust in the past. Why, recall the excellent pterosaur skeleton that we secured for you less than two years ago—”
“ThatMr.Foley secured for me. Your husband was a gentleman of quality and noted fossils expert, thus worthy of my commission.” Pickering-Parks stared down his nose at her…which wasn’t very effective given that they were nearly of a height. “But things, obviously, have changed.”
A lady never loses her temper. Keep a lid on it.
It took every ounce of her willpower to brighten her smile. To not snap at the condescending buffoon who’d never lifted a finger in his entire life and tell him that she, Maggie Foley, was indeed worthy of his commission becauseshehad found the damned bones he’d bought from her husband! For weeks, she’d mucked about the nearby cliffs known as the Spittles. Soaked by rain and mud, she’d dodged several landslips as she searched for fossils. Luckily, one cascade of rock had cleared a section of the cliff, revealing the pterosaur’s remains.
Rash words burned on the tip of her tongue; she held them back, swallowing the burn. One, she would never desecrate Paul’s reputation. Second, Pickering-Parks wouldn’t believe her even if she told the truth. Third, sheneededhis present commission and couldn’t afford to offend him.
She inhaled through her nose. “What if I were to offer you a discounted rate?”
Greed gleamed in his small, wide-spaced eyes. “How much of a discount?”
Lord above, if the man had a passion for anything other than fossils it was pinching pennies.
“Twenty percent,” she said, “off our standard fees.”
Foley’s standard fees ran around a hundred pounds for a personalized expedition that promised all finds to the patron. Even without the discount, she wouldn’t make enough to pay her debts off by the end of the month. Yet if word got out that Foley’s was once again fashionable with the society gentlemen, then perhaps more clients would sign on.
Some money was better than none. Maybe she could persuade Rotherby’s bank to take a payment in lieu of the total sum, especially if she could prove that she had other commissions waiting. It was a small chance, but what other alternative did she have?
Her mind flashed back to Rhys’s offer, his kiss…and she shut down that line of thought immediately. No way could she work with him. Like the devil, he seduced the lustful weakness in her blood. Just one kiss from him, and all of her hard-won respectability had flown out the window.
Since she couldn’t trust herself around Rhys, there was only one solution: she had to stay far away from him.
“I’ll pay fifty percent,” Pickering-Parks declared. “And not a penny more.”
She wondered why life always seemed to trap her between a rock and a hard place.
“Be reasonable, sir.” She tried not to sound desperate. “I cannot make a profit at such a sum.”
“That’s not my problem. And if you don’t want my business, Mr. Bancroft certainly does. Made a point of finding me at my lodgings. He told me your business was a sinking ship. Bancroft is a reputable gentleman…and one willing to give his patrons the proper discount.”
Pickering-Parks’s smug smile and the mention of her nemesis made her hands curl. Just when she thought matters could not get any worse, the tinkling bell over the door announced another visitor. The sight of the dark auburn hair and handsome, grinning face increased the pounding at her temples.
Oh, blooming hell. What does Jeremy want?
Her youngest brother Jeremy never came to her unless he wanted something. And that something was never good. She forced herself to remain calm as he sauntered over to the counter. He cut in front of Pickering-Parks, ignoring the man completely (if only she had the luxury of doing the same).
“Hullo there, Maggie.” Jeremy flashed a charming smile. “Need to ’ave a word with you.”
“As you can see, I am with a customer.” She knew her pointed words would be futile.
“You don’t mind cooling your ’eels a bit, do you, guv?” Jeremy winked at Pickering-Parks, who sputtered. “Got to talk with my sister on a matter o’ great importance.”
“It’ll have to wait, Jeremy. Come back later and—”
“Now’s the only time oi got.” Before she could stop him, Jeremy rounded the counter and took hold of her arm. Like all the Goode men, he was tall and strapping, and she was no match for his strength as he tugged her toward the back office. “This won’t take but a minute. Oi’ll ’ave you back afore this fine gent even knows you’re gone.”
When Jeremy, or any of her siblings, set their minds upon a thing, resistance was useless. If she dug in her heels, he’d only create more of a fuss and make her look even more unprofessional in Pickering-Parks’s eyes.
“Please excuse me, Mr. Pickering-Parks. If you’d like to peruse the shop for a moment, I’ll be right back,” she called.
She shook off her brother’s hold and led the way into the backroom, pulling the curtain closed behind them. Patty had made progress organizing the space; neat stacks of labeled boxes stood against the walls. To establish some sort of authority, Maggie went to stand by Paul’s desk.
