“I’m still not,” Charlotte said. She couldn’t allow this to go any further. Which meant it was time to be honest. “The fact is I don’t actually want marriage. My dream is to write. That’s what I’m passionate about.”
“What a childish idea,” Mama said with a shake of her head.
Charlotte fought the urge to rail at her. Instead she said, “I’m sure there are other women who feel the same, who do not wish to lose their independence to a husband. My plan is to purchase a cottage where we can live together.”
“As spinsters.” Her mother practically spat the word as if it tasted sour.
“And how exactly do you intend to fund this fairytale endeavor of yours?” her father asked.
She couldn’t reveal that, so she simply said, “I have some savings.”
Her father snorted in the sort of disbelieving manner that told her he didn’t think she had an ounce of sense or any idea of how much a cottage would cost. As if to underline this sentiment, he gave his full attention to Mr. Cooper and said, “I must apologize to you for the manner in which I described my daughter, which now appears to have been highly exaggerated. Naturally, if you still wish to marry her, you have my full blessing.”
“Besides that,” Charlotte said, pressing on while her dreams crashed down around her, “I was hoping you would permit me to use my dowry.”
Silence.
Papa and Mama shared a wary glance, the sort that gave Charlotte cause for concern. “Papa?”
Her father cleared his throat. “You have no dowry, Charlotte. I’m sorry.”
“What?” Charlotte stared at him with growing unease. “What do you mean? Edwina and Melanie had vast sums settled on them so I don’t understand why I wouldn’t.”
Papa took a deep breath, which he followed with a long swallow of brandy. “If you must know, I had some bad luck a few years ago when two of the companies I had invested in went bankrupt. Your dowry was used to buy shares in Mr. Cooper’s business and for general expenses. Like the roof you have over your head.”
Charlotte stared at him in outraged horror. Her dowry was gone. Spent. She glanced at Mr. Cooper, then back at her father. “So then?”
To his credit, her father did not pretend not to know what she asked. “You are a viscount’s daughter, Charlotte, which makes you a prestigious match for a non-aristocrat. As the son of a simple tradesman, Mr. Cooper wishes to wed you in order to improve his social standing. In exchange, he will increase the returns on my investment by a multiple of ten.”
The words sank in with explosive force. “So what you are saying is that you have sold me?”
“Don’t be crass,” Papa blustered. “I’d never stoop so low.”
And yet it seemed he had. “Papa. I—”
“Not another word, Charlotte.” Her father stood and offered his hand to his wife. “Come now, my dear. I believe we should make ourselves scarce so these two can talk.”
Gripping both armrests while clamping her jaw shut so tightly her teeth hurt, Charlotte watched with simmering fury while her parents exited the room. The door closed behind them with a click, leaving her completely alone with Mr. Cooper and without any doubt about what her parents meant to accomplish.
“I’m sorry,” Mr. Cooper said after a brief moment had elapsed.
“No you’re not.” She forced her gaze to meet his with every piece of resentment she harbored. His answering smile incensed her all the more. “Judging by that look on your face, you’re immensely pleased with how everything worked out.”
“What can I say? I like winning. In fact, one might say I’ve made a sport of it.”
“It’s hardly a win when you don’t play fair.” She glared at him. “Are you always this underhanded?”
“Taking advantage of good opportunities isn’t underhanded. It’s smart.”
“Even when you create those opportunities yourself?”
He sighed. “I didn’t create anything, Miss Russell. You did. It simply took me a while to figure it out. Now, I didn’t expect it to be anywhere near as perfect as it is. Imagine my delight, though, when I discovered who Mr. MacNeil really is. I must confess I’m impressed with how well he cleans up and his general knowledge of all things.” He gave a slight shrug. “Of course, that just proves he owns decent clothes – stolen, no doubt – and that he can read.”
“You’re horrid.”
“I’m honest.” When she sniffed in disagreement he said, “At least I’m not pretending to be someone I’m not. And if I am to be totally frank, I do feel some guilt over bringing the truth to light since I rather liked Mr. MacNeil. But considering your own appreciation for the man, I had no choice but to try and remove him from the running.”
“You’re mad if you think I’ll consider marrying you instead.”
“I prefer to think of myself as dedicated to my goals,” he told her calmly, “I take great care in selecting what I want, whether it be a piece of land, my competitor’s French chef, a mansion that’s not for sale…or in this case, you. And once I do, I go after it until it’s mine.”
God help me.
Concern rose inside her. She’d grossly underestimated Mr. Cooper, which was most likely what he’d wanted. To trap her in a situation where he became the only option.
“You cannot force me.” When he didn’t comment, she said, “Drag me to the church if you want, but I won’t say yes.”
“You don’t think?” He shook his head at her naiveté, stood, and strolled around the room, his attention seemingly on the various items kept on display. “I’m not the villain you wish to paint me, but neither did I take all this time from my busy schedule to cross the Atlantic simply to go back empty handed. You were promised to me by your father, Miss Russell, so if you refuse to accept my hand, I’ll have no choice but to withdraw the offer I made him.”
Which would in all likelihood bankrupt Papa.
Swallowing the bile in her throat, Charlotte reached for her tea and took a lengthy sip. Her choice was clear. She could either save her father from financial ruin and live a miserable life married to a man she did not like, or she could turn her back on her family and strive for the future she wanted. Although, to be fair, the second option wasn’t feasible yet since she was still short on funding. So then, she only had one real choice. Unless she managed to reclaim her rights to The Marquess’s Unresolved Mysteries and money began pouring in.
She set her teacup aside, raised her chin, and met Mr. Cooper’s cunning blue eyes. “Let’s make a deal.”
Mr. Cooper gave her a curious look. “You’re hardly in a position to bargain.”
“You don’t think?” Charlotte asked, throwing the words he’d spoken earlier right back at him. “Unless you want a difficult woman on your hands, I suggest you hear me out.”
He looked oddly impressed. “As a strategist, doing so would not be in my favor, but as a businessman accustomed to negotiations, I feel obliged. Please, Miss Russell, proceed.”
Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief. Mr. Cooper was no fool. Indeed, he was both clever and ruthless when it came to business. But he didn’t strike her as cruel, which was something she meant to use to her advantage. “Give me a chance to find a solution we can both be satisfied with.”