Liam dropped his croquet mallet and let out a mighty whoop of joy, but Frederick hadn’t stopped speaking.
“Don’t get overly excited,” Frederick cautioned. “Switching my vote is purely symbolic. Oscar has unanimity among the other shareholders, and they will endorse the merger. The vote will be seventy to thirty to support the merger.”
“Not necessarily,” Patrick said, heading down the porch stairs and holding up the legal document. “I’ve reviewed the operating agreement. You have the power to assign Theodore’s shares to Liam immediately. It doesn’t require a shareholder majority to agree. As senior partner, you can do it right now.”
Liam looked thunderstruck. He wandered to a garden bench and sat, staring in amazement at Frederick. “Is that true?” he asked, a world of hope in his voice.
Frederick didn’t break Patrick’s gaze, but he nodded in concession. “Congratulations on finding that codicil. I didn’t think you’d be able to spot it.”
“Scrappy lawyers are good at digging,” Patrick said. “And if we add Liam’s ten percent to yours, the vote is sixty to forty.”
“Which isn’t enough to stop the merger,” Frederick pointed out.
“Who says?” Liam demanded. “It shouldn’t be hard to scrounge up a few people who want to side with the workers of the world.”
Frederick’s smile was equal parts cynical and condescending. “No one else in this family will vote against Oscar. Their livelihoods depend on him, and they will vote as he instructs them. The shareholders will earn healthy dividends as soon as the company is formed.”
Liam still looked exhilarated. “I don’t give up easily.”
“Good,” Frederick said. “You’re going to need that fire in the coming years.”
“I’m going to need that fire in the coming weeks,” Liam corrected. “I intend to scrounge up another ten percent of the votes to stop the merger.”
A calculating look came over Frederick’s face. He walked with slow, careful steps to the cluster of chairs near Liam and took a seat. He retrieved a cigar from his breast pocket, lit it, and took a long and deliberate puff, all the while studying Liam.
“I can’t figure out who you are,” he said. “Have you inherited your father’s overly emotional streak, or do you take after Oscar’s calculating gamesmanship? Are you a person who is best suited to welding steel, or should you be directing the steel mill? It will be interesting to watch. The entire family will gather here tomorrow. Most of the men have a share or two to their name. Try to persuade them to your side if you wish. I will enjoy watching. But take my advice and don’t let anyone know I have switched sides. The first rule of gamesmanship is to keep your cards close to your chest.”
“I’d like to see Liam do that while walking around with a ten-percent stake of his own,” Patrick said.
“You’re dreaming.” Frederick’s tone was dismissive, but Patrick was not daunted.
“You have a potential new ally,” he said with a nod toward Liam. “Oscar has been gathering allies to his side for years. You are the most powerful man in the bank, but you still need Oscar’s cooperation for everything since the other shareholders all believe he has the magic touch. By transferring Theodore’s ten percent back to Liam, the two of you will be a force to be reckoned with.”
Frederick fired back with his own arguments against assigning the shares to Liam, but Patrick neatly countered every one, and Gwen loved watching him in action. His intensity, his confidence. The way he diced, parried, and sparred reminded Gwen of a warrior, but one who fought with words instead of brawn.
The sun began to set. Servants lit torches and brought food, but Patrick never tired as he fought on Liam’s behalf. Each time Frederick scored a point, Patrick shifted and parried again. Pride bloomed in her heart, because her grandfather was seeing Patrick at his finest.
And in the end, Frederick agreed to authorize the transfer of voting shares to Liam.
They moved indoors to sign the paperwork. There was no electricity on the island, and dozens of candles flickered in the gathering room as Patrick drafted an agreement. Her heart swelled with pride as she watched him write out the document, his face tense with concentration, his penmanship precise and sure as he wrote. Even the scratching of his pen sounded like strength and confidence as he crafted the words that would change Liam’s life forever.
“I shall send my butler back to the city with the agreement tomorrow morning,” Frederick said as he leaned down to sign the papers.
Patrick looked up to catch Gwen’s eye, his face flushed with pleasure as she stepped to his side. When his hand closed around hers, it felt like there was nothing in the world they couldn’t accomplish.
Patrick was too wound up to sleep after finalizing the agreement. Gwen had looked at him as though he were a hero out of a storybook, and it could keep him fueled for weeks.
Long after the rest of the household turned in for bed, he and Gwen slipped down to the boathouse, where they could be alone. He wanted to savor the sensation of earning her respect and being worthy of her. He held her sheltered against his body as they gazed out at the darkened sea, hints of foamy white crests on the waves as they rolled ashore.
He had to admit that Gwen had been right about coming here. After a few bumpy days, her grandfather had seen beyond Patrick’s Irish accent and humble roots and had begun to treat him well. Perhaps not as an equal, but as a man of consequence, and it was enough. Hope surged. There might be a future for him and Gwen after all. For years he’d been struggling to figure out what God wanted of him. He’d rushed toward the church to prove himself, but the priesthood had never been a natural fit. His calling was to serve others through the law, and hopefully through building a large, boisterous, and happy family of his own. He was ready to imagine such a family with Gwen.
“We could live in my house,” she said as she snuggled within his arms. “Your mother could have the corner bedroom on the second floor. It has a window overlooking the garden.”
“You won’t mind having my mother live with us?”
As if reading his mind, Gwen immediately solved the problem of a lack of privacy. “We can build a fire escape on the side of the house where we can be alone.”
He smiled against her hair. If he lived to be a hundred, the memories of their stolen hours on his fire escape would remain carved on his soul. Gwen rotated in his arms to kiss him, her arms snaking up high on his shoulders to draw him closer. Temptation for more clawed at him, so he lifted his head to gaze out at the sea. A few lights winked far off on the horizon, catching his interest.
“Is that the ferry coming back?”
Gwen turned to look, then shook her head. “That’s the Black Rose, my uncle’s yacht.”
He eyed the yacht looming in the distance. Gwen explained that the Black Rose was too big to dock in the boathouse, so Oscar’s family would spend the night on the yacht and come ashore tomorrow morning in a small tender boat once there was enough light to navigate.
They both watched the Black Rose looming on the horizon, and something deep in Patrick rebelled. Members of Gwen’s family would soon descend on the island, and the real test would begin. He doubted the rest of Gwen’s family would be as open-minded as Frederick.