“How brave and unflinching you are,” Winters sneered.
“I must be when it comes to Miss Ashford.”
Winters chuckled mirthlessly. “To be young and in love. You see, I promised Vinette’s mother I would see her rise in society and become a toast of the haute monde. I will not break that promise, and by God neither will you.”
“I must,” James rasped hoarsely, pain slicing him deep. “Allow me to use my influence to benefit your family. Allow me to return the money you gave my brother.”
“I know of your circumstances! You do not have the money to repay me! And I will not release you from this agreement. I will sue and cause a great scandal. I promise it will follow you like a great stench for years!”
“No, you will not,” James said with ruthless precision, walking over. “Do you think me a fool? Do you believe you are the only one capable of cunning and calculation?”
Winters’s face smoothed into a mask.
James stared at him. “You will do nothing to ruin your daughter’s chances. Whatever scandal you throw on me…you will have thrown on yourself and also on her. No one knows of our betrothal…or of this business arrangement you made with my brother. I suspect you kept it that way as a contingency should it fail, your daughter’s reputation would not be affected, and no one could say she was jilted. I have not even told my mother about this arrangement…I did not even reveal it to Poppy whom I love, and trust.”
James waved a hand. “You are trying to bend me to your will, but I am my own man. Allow me to cancel this contract Henry made and take me up on my offer to support your daughter’s come out with the full force and connections of my name and title.”
A heavy silence lingered in the man’s study.
“Then he said. I will give you thirty days to repay the money. Not a day more.”
James jolted. “Thirty days is impossible.”
“Those are my terms. Should you fail to meet them, I will sue for breach of promise and damn all our reputations to hell. My daughter loves Paris. She will happily stay there for the rest of her life, and that way, the disgrace will only stick to you and Miss Ashford. Repay me in thirty days or marry my daughter.”
James stared at his resolution and then turned and walked away. Once outside, he lifted his face to the sun. What a damn mess. He had to see Poppy right away. James had to explain to her. He hurried to call his carriage and supplied his coachman with her address. They rumbled away, and James saw no way in which he could drum up that money in a year, much less a month.
A flash of blue and a swaying hip caught his eyes. It was Poppy. James rapped on the roof of his carriage and bounded from the equipage without waiting for the steps.
“Poppy!”
She whirled around, and he faltered. Her eyes were red and pained. She had been crying.
James hurried to her side, careful to keep a respectable distance as they were in public.
“James,” she said with a small smile.
“I am coming from Mr. Winters’s home. He told me of his visit to you. I am sorry for it. He should not have presumed to speak to you.” James raked a hand through his hair, absently realizing he had left his hat in the carriage. “Poppy, I should have told you.”
“You made me no false promises,” she said softly. “Whatever wound there is to my heart is because of my own foolish hopes. I cannot blame you for it. You have been a great friend and supporter. I wish you all the best.”
Then she whirled around. Uncaring they might have an audience, he grabbed her elbow. When she paused, he moved to stand in front of her.
“I am not marrying her…Poppy, I cannot, not when I love you.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I love you.”
Tears spilled down her cheek, and she hurriedly wiped it away. “I love you too, but you…you promised to marry her. Surely you cannot break that. She will be devastated. Her chances and reputation will be ruined. I…no, James!”
“It is not like you are thinking. She is fourteen, and I suspect she might not even know about this arrangement. My brother made the promise to marry her when she is of age,” he said gruffly. “I was simply trying to fulfill it because he died before he could.”
“And Mr. Winters agrees to this?”
“No. He wants me to repay a sum of one hundred thousand pounds in a month, or he will sue.”
She flinched and lifted wounded eyes to his. “Even I know such a scandal would be catastrophic for you, Daphne, and your mother. Your entire family will be affected.”
James looked away, the truth of her word resounding deeply inside. “Poppy—”
“No,” she said softly. “I love you, James. Too much to want that for you. I love Daphne. She is young and has ample time to remarry and have a wonderful life. That will be very hard to achieve with a ruined reputation and her brother’s honor sunken beyond reproach.”
It was James’s turn to flinch.
“We shall remain great friends, and I shall never forget you.” Then to his shock, she leaned forward, pressed a kiss to his cheek, turned around and continued walking.
That night, James sat in Worsley’s gambling den, nursing his third glass of whisky. He stood apart from the general excitement which pulsed in the air. The Club’s decor was one of luxury, red and green carpets covered the floor, and swaths of red and golden garlands twined themselves around massive white Corinthian columns. Worsley’s club was popular, and it was a busy and energetic night. Every table on the floor—faro, hazard, whist, and even the roulette wheels was filled with ladies and gentlemen hoping to take home winnings from one of the tables.
James felt as if he had lost everything. The honor he thought he was protecting for so many years and the lady he had fallen irrevocably in love with.
“The simplest solution would be to marry, Miss Winters,” Worsley said. “Winters is known to me. He is ruthless when crossed. Your brother did not enter this deal with an easy man.”
Everything inside of James recoiled at the notion. The remembered pain and hope in Poppy’s eyes haunted him. She loved him enough to fight for his honor while he loved her enough to dismiss it. What a blasted mess. “No, I’ll not marry Miss Winters.”
Smoke wafted through the air from the many lit cigars, glasses clinked loudly, and the clattering of dice echoed as they rolled on the tables as if mocking the calm assurance James wanted to present to the world. Inside he was a mess of pain and desperation. He could not lose Poppy.
“You have already lost, Miss Ashford,” Worsley said. “It seems she genuinely loves you. She wants to protect you from the consequences of this damnable agreement Henry made. Whyever did you not tell me about it?”
“What is done is done,” James said, leaning back in the chair and knocking back his drink. “Daphne told me earlier Poppy is leaving town. She has no money. She has no connections. And it is unbearable for her to live with her mother and sisters anymore. She is brave enough to try and find a living on her own.”
“You are worried for her.”
“I am petrified at the thought of her alone, without any funds or support. I combed through my books earlier, trying to find where to take the money to write a bank draft. There is nothing. I will have to wait weeks for a few of the investments to cash in. I have thought about selling a few of our paintings and even silverware. I cannot allow her to disappear without any money.”