Lost in his brooding thoughts, Wick had missed whatever Kent had said. “Beg pardon?”
“I said Tessa has guards available if you want extra security for your lady. The claims put forth by the papers this morning were not only slanderous but damned reckless,” Kent said with clear disgust. “You and Lady Beatrice could be at risk because of those lies.”
The papers were characterizing Bea as a conniving seductress and Wick as her willing dupe. It was preposterous, but the public didn’t know that. Once they got wind of her living in Wick’s house, they would figure out she was the mysterious Miss Brown, placing her in greater peril than she was already in.
Bloody perfect. We’ve just solved the mystery of her attacker, and now I’ve given her a whole city full of people out for her blood. What kind of an incompetent bastard am I?
“I appreciate the offer,” he said tersely.
Kent looked at Garrity and subtly lifted his chin.
The latter cleared his throat. “My hunting lodge in Hertfordshire is only a half-day’s travel from London and quite pleasant this time of year. You and Lady Beatrice are welcome to use it until things blow over.”
Garrity’s generosity was the straw that broke Wick’s self-control. The emotions he’d been holding at bay broke free. He shoved away from the table, rising to his feet.
“You can both stop pussyfooting around me,” he bit out. “Why don’t you come out and say it?”
Kent blinked. “Say…what?”
“What you’re thinking—that this situation is all my bloody fault! I’ve failed you, the company, and our investors.” Wick shoved a hand through his hair. “Because of my inability to negotiate the most important deal of our lives, GLNR will go under.”
“When did you become a mind-reader?” Garrity asked mildly.
Wick glowered at him. “You regret offering me a partnership. Why don’t you just admit it? I’d rather have you yell at me than be so goddamned,”—he threw up his hands—“niceabout things.”
Garrity raised his brows at Kent. “You told me I should be more agreeable.”
Kent shrugged. “How was I supposed to know he liked your surliness?”
“Just be honest,” Wick said starkly. “Tell me how angry you are, how I’ve failed you. I can handle it—hell, Ideserveit.”
“Of the three of us in this room, only one is angry,” Garrity said. “And it’s not me or Kent.”
“That cannot be true.” Wick curled his hands. “I ruinedeverything.”
“Don’t give yourself too much credit, Murray,” his former mentor said. “You weren’t able to see a venture through. That is hardly the same as ruining everything.”
“How can you say that? The money I’ve cost this company, the investors—”
“Money can be replaced.” Coming from Garrity, this was a remarkable statement. “Kent and I can both take the loss, and investors got into this knowing there was a risk. We never lied about that. You cannot take responsibility for the decisions of others: that was the first thing I taught you when you worked for me in the moneylending business. Have you forgotten?”
Wick’s chest constricted. “You’re being too easy on me.”
“I personally wouldn’t mind pummeling you, but you’ve beat me to it.” Humor and understanding laced Kent’s words. “Look, we’ve all made mistakes.”
“Remember when Kent blew up the warehouse last year?” Garrity said. “We’re still paying for that one.”
He dodged the gear that Kent threw at him.
“The point being, we’ve all been where you are, Murray,” Kent said. “Speaking from personal experience, I’ll say the hardest part is not earning the forgiveness of others: it’s forgiving oneself.”
Kent’s words resonated through Wick. Hewasangry at himself. But wasn’t it justifiably so? He’d failed GLNR…and Beatrice. God, he’d subjected her to public scrutiny and humiliation when she’d already suffered more than her fair share. And he’d gone back on his word, putting her in the untenable position of choosing him or her estate.
He wouldn’t blame her if she never wanted to see him again.
“I don’t know how I managed to bungle things so completely,” he said hoarsely.
“It’s part of the human condition.” Garrity steepled his hands.
