“Worried about me?” he asked.
She snorted. “Worried about where the money goes if you’re blown up. Tell me I won’t be dealing with an odious cousin.”
“Your concern is noted. You can relax. None of it’s entailed. It goes to you and Cassandra. I’d recommend you allow my accountant to help you, but the money will be yours to do with what you like. If it’s there.”
“If it’s there? What do you mean?”
Had she asked the question critically or in a panic that her newfound wealth was at risk, he would have palmed it off. But she was direct. No-nonsense. Businesslike. And he desperately needed someone to vent to.
“There were plans to sell locomotives to an American company. It would have meant considerable growth for the whole village. We invested a lot to make it happen, but I think we’re losing the contract.”
“Do I dare ask why?”
It took effort to look her in the eyes and answer. “They’re unwilling to anger their current British investors by working with the enemy.”
“And you’re the enemy?”
“I’ve stolen what was theirs…”
“You’ve stolen…” She paused as understanding dawned. “Me?” She squared her shoulders, creases forming between her brows. “To begin with, I can’t be stolen because I’m a person, not an object. I belong to no one. Don’t forget that. Secondly, that’s rather spineless of them.”
He grunted. “American ties with Britain are only now just reaching a civil enough point for trade to be possible. They won’t risk it.”
“Then you need to find other partners with a bit more fortitude.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not that easy. There are only a handful of companies taking on rail projects of this size. We’re not talking pin money.”
“Oh, what a surprise.” Her sarcasm caused an uncomfortable flashback to the Amelia he’d married.
“Then what do you need to do?” she continued.
“Pardon?”
“You said you’re losing the contract, not that you’ve lost it. What do you need to do to fix this?”
He sighed. This wasn’t an easy fix. There was no way of depositing her back on her father’s doorstep, scandal-free and once again engaged to Wilde.
“I need to convince them that working with me won’t jeopardize all their other ventures.”
“Hmm.” She nodded and cinched the belt around his dressing gown tighter, as if she were about to march barefoot to the Americans and give them the sharp edge of her tongue. “Well, lucky for you, I am very convincing.”
“Pardon?”
“Invite them here. Have them tour your little factory. I’ll host a dinner—I’ve been meaning to call on Lady Karstark as it is—and we’ll convince all involved that, not only are you not a villain, but that our marriage is considered an excellent thing.”
“The Karstarks aren’t well liked in Abingdale.”
She reached up and wiped a thumb along his jaw, removing a spot of soap he must have missed.
It was a compulsion of hers, he’d realized. To neaten things. To put things to rights. He shouldn’t be surprised that she’d immediately look for solutions to the problem.
“I can’t imagine why. Lord Karstark seemedsopleasant,” she said dryly. “But if the situation is as you say it is, the Karstarks may be the only reason you get your contract, so we and the rest of the village will have to swallow it.”
“You’re ruthless.”
“I’m practical. At the heart of it, an investment is not unlike a marriage. They want to know the money is going to come in and feel secure that the person they’re investing with is not going to do something rash and ruin it all.”
“And you know this because…”
