“And under different circumstances, I might accept,” Harrison returned, his tone colder than the Atlantic in March.
The duke spun on his heel and quit the room, his shoulders straight and proud. The silence that followed was awful, and mortification crawled over her skin like thousands of ants. She didn’t wish to leave things like this with Lockwood, with him believing the worst of her—and she owed him an apology. He must absolutely hate her for embarrassing him like this.
Guilt gnawed at her stomach. She needed to set this right—or as right as she could, considering how badly she’d blundered. Rising, she gestured toward the office door. “I should speak with him.”
“Go on, then.” Her father waved her out. “I need to discuss things with your fiancé, anyway. You and I will talk later.”
Fiancé, meaning Harrison.
This was all happening too fast. “Is there any chance I might change your mind?”
Daddy’s expression hardened, his tone the one he used for discussing business. “Absolutely none. You two will be married as soon as I can drag a reverend here, Madeline.”
Harrison struggled to keep from grinning like a madman as Maddie dashed from her father’s office.
She would soon be his wife.
It was too perfect. Her betrothal broken, she would now be forced to marry him. No, he hadn’t planned on winning her this way, but he couldn’t dredge up an ounce of regret over it.
Things were shaping up nicely. Once they were married, he could return to New York and to the business of ruining his family. At last count, there were fewer than five thousand shares of Archer Industries stock to recover.
Yes, things were shaping up nicely, indeed.
“I suppose you best sit down,” Webster said. “Then I won’t need to crane my neck the entire time.”
Harrison lowered himself into the chair opposite the desk. “I am sorry about all of this.”
Webster cocked his head, his gaze turning thoughtful. “Are you?”
“Not really.”
Maddie’s father rubbed his forehead with the tips of three fingers, slow frustrated sweeps across his wrinkled brow. “I want honesty from you, Archer, and I’ll only ask this once. As a gentleman, have you compromised my daughter under my roof?”
“Does it matter?”
“It matters to your future father-in-law.”
“Perhaps, but still I’ll not answer it. Whatever happened between Maddie and me remains private.”
Webster leaned back in his chair, rocking slightly and causing the wood underneath him to creak. “I should hate you for that response, yet I cannot help but respect it.” He sighed heavily, his chest deflating. “And it leaves me no choice but to force a marriage between you.”
Undoubtedly the Websters would much prefer an aristocratic son-in-law, but that was too damn bad. Harrison was on the verge of having Maddie as his wife . . . and nothing would stop a wedding at this point. “That is your right.”
“It is. Also within my right is to not offer you the same betrothal agreement I gave Lockwood, considering the circumstances.”
“I don’t need your money.” Harrison shrugged. “I made my own money in France.”
“Your inheritance, you mean.”
“No, I was cut off from my trust fund when I left and my mother subsequently spent it.”
That got Webster’s attention. He sat forward in his chair, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Cut off?”
“My father’s doing. It was part of why I went to Paris.”
“I don’t understand. I always assumed you were . . .” The older man cleared his throat. “Well, second son and all.”
“A layabout is probably the term you were searching for. A do-nothing. Ne’er-do-well. Wastrel. I’ve heard them all over the years.” Usually from a member of his family.
“So how did you survive over there?”
“Cards, at first. We wastrels use our skills where we can, you know.” He gave a grim smile. “Then the Paris Stock Exchange, which is just gambling on a larger stage. After that, I started working for Compagnie Générale Transatlantique. I helped them design cruises for upscale American passengers, recommending amenities and food that would appeal to travelers of a certain sensibility. For a cut of the profits, of course. Thus far, the cruises have been wildly successful.”
Webster’s jaw had fallen open midway through Harrison’s speech. He closed his mouth and finally said, “That’s quite clever.”
“Thank you. Though I don’t need money, I could use your help with another matter.” Harrison crossed his legs and smoothed the fine wool of his trousers. “It’s not been made public but my father lost everything in the Panic a few years ago. The Archers are broke.”
Webster blinked a few times. “Broke?”
“Indeed. They’ve been borrowing money from the business, which has suffered under poor leadership the last decade or so. But I plan to change all that when I take over Archer Industries in a few weeks.”
“You plan to take over your family’s company? Why not try and help them save it?”
“The reasons are my own, but they do not deserve my help. No, I plan to take it all away—in a hostile takeover, if necessary. That is where I need your assistance.”
“With?”
“Speaking to members of the board, if it comes to that. Many of them are close in age to you and there’s a good chance you know many of them personally. Additionally, I am hoping, as my father-in-law, that you will also serve on the board once I restructure it.”
Keen understanding shone in the older man’s gaze as he nodded once. “Anything in my daughter’s best interests going forward, you may count on my lending support. I never had much affinity for your father or brother, anyway. Does Madeline know any of this?”
“No, no one does. The stock price will plummet if word gets out and the company will fold before I can acquire it.”
Webster stroked his jaw, staring across the desk as if trying to figure Harrison out. Maddie’s father was a shrewd businessman, who’d doubled his family’s steel empire after the war, and he did not suffer fools gladly. There was a reason the Websters owned nearly the largest house in both Manhattan and Newport—and it was the intelligence and drive of the man sitting in front of him.
“I always thought you were frivolous and not very ambitious,” Webster finally said. “I can see I was wrong, and I have to say that comes as a goddamn relief. The last thing I want is for my only child to marry an empty-headed bounder who will spend my money on women and booze.”
“You have my word I will not. I love your daughter.”
“See that it stays that way. Does this mean you are staying in New York?”
“It does.”
“Indeed, I am happy to hear it. I was not looking forward to sending her off to another country.” Webster pushed back from the desk and stood. “I’ll provide you with half of what I originally promised Lockwood. A half million in cash and one million in stock. You’ll have it after the ceremony.”
“It’s not necessary, but thank you. I’ll have a portion put into trusts for Maddie and our children.” Harrison rose and shook the other man’s hand. “I appreciate this.”