Maddie walked to the table and picked up the card.
BEST OF LUCK IN YOUR UPCOMING TOURNAMENT.
Best of luck? But these were . . . dark and morose. Not the sort of thing that accompanied a message of well wishes. And there was no signature. Who would send these?
None of this made sense.
She tapped the card with her fingers. “Perhaps the flower shop made a mistake. We should throw them out.”
“No, you need to show them to your husband,” Vallie said.
“Who happens to be right here.”
Maddie spun to see Harrison coming down the stairs. He wore a light gray suit and a black vest, his dark hair oiled and swept back. The style highlighted his midnight-blue eyes, which were currently locked on the flower arrangement. When he reached the table, he looked to Maddie. “Was there a card?”
She held it out, and watched his expression turn thunderous as he read the words. Then, in an instant, his face cleared. “I’ll speak to the flower shop about it. This has to be a mistake,” he announced, and put the card in his coat pocket.
“That’s what I assumed,” she said. “No doubt the flowers were supposed to be a brighter color.” It still didn’t answer who they were from. Was someone trying to make it appear as if she’d been unfaithful to Harrison?
“Farley, have these disposed of.” Harrison motioned to the flowers. Then he struck out his hand toward Vallie and the two men shook. “Livingston, always a pleasure. If you’ll both excuse me, I must travel downtown for a meeting.”
Without another word, Harrison was out the door and into a waiting carriage. “Sir,” Farley said to Vallie. “A carriage is here for you, as well.”
“Thank you. Maddie, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early. Get some rest.”
“You too, Vallie. Stay off that knee.”
When her coach left, she stood there, staring at the flowers, wondering. Farley closed the front door, then motioned to a footman to carry the arrangement belowstairs. “There, madam. It’s as if it never happened.”
“Have you ever seen an arrangement like it, Farley?”
“No, madam. I definitely have not. Couldn’t have been easy, finding flowers that dark.”
Maddie agreed. A bouquet such as that couldn’t have been easy to procure . . . or cheap. So why had it been sent with such a cheerful note?
It took Harrison just two stops to locate his brother.
The Archer home on Fifth Avenue was empty, so Harrison had hurried to the Archer Industries offices downtown. He had Preston in tow, since his friend had pulled up to the Websters’ house just as Harrison set to depart. The arrival was fortuitous, as no one intimidated others better than Preston.
During the ride south, Harrison’s blood boiled with the need to choke his brother, to shake Thomas until he understood that Maddie was to be left alone. How dare his family try and rattle her?
Finally, they arrived at the seventh floor where the executive offices were located. The staff watched Harrison’s progress with wide, curious eyes as he marched the long space toward the president’s office. Preston followed, remaining silent, also angry over the flower delivery.
Though the door to the president’s office was closed, Harrison didn’t stop his approach. The secretary chased after him, saying that Mr. Archer was in an important meeting and could not be disturbed, but Harrison didn’t even slow down. He threw open the door, flinging it against the wall, and stepped inside.
His brother shot to his feet. “What on earth are you doing here?”
Harrison left Preston to deal with the secretary while he advanced on his brother. “Get out,” he snapped at the stranger sitting in the armchair, gaping at him like a carp.
Within seconds, the man scurried from the office, leaving the three of them alone.
Thomas had nowhere to go, so Harrison caught him easily, grabbing his brother’s throat and slamming his back against the wall. It suddenly became clear how much Harrison had grown in the last three years, because he now had several inches and at least twenty pounds over his brother. “You goddamn bastard,” Harrison growled in Thomas’s face, thumping his brother’s head into the wall again. “I told you to leave my wife alone.”
Thomas had the nerve to lift his chin. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Liar. You are trying to intimidate her, distract her right before the tournament, just as you threatened.”
“I’ve done nothing of the sort.”
Harrison squeezed, pressing on the sides of his brother’s throat. “You took me for a fool, Thomas. When I said I would bury you if you harmed Maddie, you didn’t believe me and tried it, anyway. Now I get to make good on my promise.”
Abruptly, he released his brother and stepped back, taking several deep breaths to get a grip on his chaotic emotions. He slipped into the abandoned armchair and smoothed his trousers. “Please sit,” he told his brother, gesturing to the chair behind the desk.
Thomas’s gaze grew wary, but he adjusted his clothing and sat down. “This is family business. Why is he here?” He jerked his chin toward Preston, who stood glowering near the door, his arms folded across his chest.
“He’s here to make sure I don’t kill you.”
Preston gave a toothy smile that had caused men to piss themselves in the past. Harrison had witnessed it firsthand.
“This is ridiculous,” Thomas said. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Harrison continued, ignoring his brother’s denial. “Here’s what is going to happen. I am selling the Fifth Avenue house, as is my right considering I now hold the deed. I expect you to vacate before the end of the week.”
Thomas gasped. “You cannot do that—”
“Furthermore, I have called for an emergency board meeting in”—he checked his pocket watch—“one hour, during which the board will pass a no-confidence vote in you as president and install me as the new president.”
The color drained from his brother’s face. “Harrison, don’t do this. It’s not fair to me or my family. Where will we live? Think of my wife, my children. Mother. That is our home.”
“You should have thought of that before you sent those flowers to my wife.”
“Let us have the Newport house, then,” Thomas said. “It is the least you can do.”
“The least I can do?” Harrison’s lip curled. “I don’t owe you a damn thing. What about all those times when we were boys and you caused trouble, only to blame it on me? Was that the least you could do, Thomas?”
His brother’s throat worked as he swallowed. “That’s not true.”
“We both know it is. You found it easier if father’s wrath was aimed at me, not you. It was easier for you to be the perfect brother and leave me as the evil one. So do not presume to tell me what I should do. I owe you nothing.”
“We will take you to court, if necessary.”
“Please do.” Harrison steepled his fingers, giving Thomas a smug smile. “Because I would love to tell everyone about how our dear father used to abuse the female staff . . . and how you knew and did nothing about it. What do you think the papers would say about that?”