“Loans are not so easy to come by,” he said.“Besides, it’s only the interest the mortgage holder requires: he will still be holding the mortgage over our heads.”
Tessa felt a surge of hope.“The interest—it’s less?How much do we need?”
He told her the sum and her heart sank.That was just the interest?It seemed impossible.
“Nevertheless, we must try.Tomorrow you must go out and try to raise the money.I won’t have my home sold out from under me, Edgar, I won’t allow it.”
“If you married Sir Henry—“
“No!I won’t marry again, not even to save Ferndale.”That might be a lie, she thought.She’d do anything to save Ferndale, but before she reached that stage of desperation, she would try every other possible way.
A loan, that was the solution.IfEdgar could manage it.He had to.Her nails bit into her palms.It was infuriating that females weren’t allowed to do any business.She’d tried several times in the past but had been politely but firmly rebuffed.“Anything you own, madam, belongs to your husband.There is no need for a lady to have a bank account.”
But thanks to Grandpapa’s trust and Mama’s will, she did own Ferndale.
“So, Edward, tomorrow morning you will go out and seek a loan—yes?”
Edgar sighed theatrically.“It won’t do much good, but very well, if you insist, I’ll try.But marrying Sir Henry would be easier.”
She shuddered.“Not for me.”
#
SLEEP CAME HARD FORMarcus that night: he found himself mulling over his brief interaction with Tessa.Something wasn’t right.
At first she’d seemed pleased to see him, but then ...those frequent glances off to the right, as if looking for something.For what?Or whom?And the image given by her demure, ladylike posture and pleasant conversation was contradicted by the way she had removed her gloves and was picking at her nails.
He’d itched to reach down and stop her, place his hand gently over hers and see her anxiety fade.
And when her brother had arrived with that elderly gentleman in tow, she’d stiffened.He was sure he saw her eyes flash with anger but an instant later it was as though a mask had dropped over her face, and she looked cool, serene, even bored.
But her fingers kept picking at her nails.Worse than ever.
Marcus had left them—Edgar had made it clear he wasn’t wanted, which normally would have made no difference to him, except that Tessa had sent a subtle silent signal that he should leave too.
The tense undercurrents were almost tangible.
Something was very wrong.Something or someone had turned the carefree, exuberant, open child he remembered into this cautious, restrained, tense young woman.Her brother?Her marriage?His every instinct told him she was far from happy.
But was he simply reacting to her cool reception?And her parting words that had seemed a clear message: stay away.
He’d never been rejected by a young, eligible lady or widow.Quite the contrary.
Was he the sort of coxcomb who was only interested in the hard-to-get?Who forced his company—unwanted—on women?He didn’t think so.Having experienced unwanted attentions himself, the very idea revolted him.
But he wasn’t generally given to much self-examination.
In any case, he wasn’t thinking of her as potential partner.She was simply an old friend who seemed ...unhappy?Lonely?
In the time he’d been observing her, not one person had greeted her, not a soul had talked to her.Not even that chaperone woman.Only her brother and the old man.
Not for the first time he wished he’d overheard the conversation she’d had with her brother when they first arrived.From the distance it had looked like a dispute.And Edgar had certainly taken charge when he returned, making it clear to Marcus that his sister was off limits.
But why?
The questions nagged at him, and one thing became clear: he needed to find out more about her and her recent history, and for that he would seek out his friend Barney.The idea of discussing her behind her back was distasteful, but he needed to understand.
First thing in the morning he headed for Barney’s lodgings.He found his friend dressed in a violently patterned Oriental silk dressing gown and addressing a large breakfast.He invited Marcus to join him, but he only accepted coffee.
