“August has informed me in no uncertain terms that she plans to wait to have children. Besides, her firstborn son will be too busy learning how to be a duke to run Crenshaw Iron. The same goes for Violet’s child, and neither of them will be Crenshaws. They won’t carry the name, and they’ll have responsibilities here.”
Max wasn’t entirely insensitive to his father’s suggestion. All his life he had embraced the Crenshaw legacy, begun by his grandfather, and imagined his own son taking over the reins of the company—though now that August had proven herself so adept, perhaps that mantle could be picked up by a daughter. While he had welcomed the idea, it had always been one that would be realized far into the future. Into his thirties. Not now at the age of twenty-eight when his life was so busy. He had assumed he would have another five years at least before considering the responsibilities of a wife and child.
“Let’s talk about this later, Papa. As you said, you will recover.”
The older man shook his head, his groomed and oiled hair shining in the lamplight. “We must speak of it now. While I do believe I will recover somewhat, I am not so foolish to believe I will be as good as before. I’m old, Max, but I still know a thing or two about planning for the long run. We must begin laying the foundation now. I want you married by the end of the year.”
“Good God, Papa, that’s not even two months!”
Papa held up a placating hand. “Yes, I’m aware. I’ll settle for an engagement.”
Max regarded his father through a narrowed gaze. The man was shrewd when it came to negotiation. He would bargain with the Devil himself to get what he wanted, and Max felt no relief in the knowledge that he was his son. One only had to look at how Papa had negotiated August into accepting her marriage to see that. There would be consequences if Max chose not to agree to his father’s terms.
His jaw clenched in anger, he said, “You’re trying to manipulate me, to use me like my sisters.”
The corner of Papa’s mouth quirked upward again. “Aren’t you and August always harping on me about equality among the sexes? Well, I have taken your words to heart. A son should marry just as a daughter should.”
“I don’t know what you have planned, but I will choose my wife. I won’t have some brainless pawn served up to me.”
“You would never stand for that. I would have nothing less from you. Despite how you might feel about my machinations in the past, I do appreciate the fact that when I’m gone August and Violet will be left in good hands. I have only wanted what is best for them.”
Now Max was genuinely bemused. “I don’t understand. If you don’t have someone in mind, then why—?”
“Oh, I have several young women in mind. Amelia Van der Meer for one.” Max was already shaking his head, but Papa continued. “Her father is a good friend and respectable businessman.”
“Is she even Violet’s age?”
“You mean the Violet who is now married with a child on the way?”
“I won’t marry someone so young.” He needed a wife he could talk to about his day over dinner, not one who would smile mindlessly at him as she fell over herself to see to his needs. The memory of the one time he had been foolish enough to allow Amelia to corner him at a party sent him to his feet in a state of agitation. Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he walked to the pitcher on the bureau across the room and poured himself a glass of water. Miss Van der Meer had all but pawed at him in her bid to keep him to herself.
“I understand,” said Papa, but Max rather thought he didn’t. “That’s why I don’t want to suggest anyone. It’s not so much who the lucky young woman is as long as you marry soon.” There was a brief pause, then he added, “Any woman you choose would need to be respectable, of course. Wealth would be a boon, but not necessary. Did you have anyone in mind?”
Unbidden, an image of Helena came to mind. She was looking at him in disapproval, with a slight smile curving her generous lips, after he had just informed her that she had been wrong. Violet had run away with Christian, and Helena had insisted they go to his Scottish estate to find them. But none of the staff there had heard from the wayward couple. After that, he and Helena had spent several days combing the countryside for his sister before finding her with Christian in a small village outside of York.
Nothing untoward had happened between Max and Helena on the trip; they had both been too worried for Violet’s safety to entertain a flirtation, except something had happened. The devil if he knew how to describe exactly what. He had become familiar with her every emotion and how each of them reflected on her lovely face. He admired her intelligence and her quick humor, and in the months since, he’d been unable to stop thinking of her.
She wouldn’t want to marry him, though. She was settled in London and Somerset, and her family was here. It wasn’t as if he knew her well enough to even consider marriage, but he liked what he knew about her. There would be no vapid dinner conversations with her.
No. She was a lady who inhabited a completely different world. He didn’t know why his thoughts were even wandering in that direction.
“I do not, because I don’t plan to be married anytime soon. This conversation is premature to say the least.”
Disappointment crossed Papa’s face, but it was gone as easily as it had come. “I thought you might say that.”
Taking another drink of water, Max longed for it to be something much stronger. “What are the consequences you’ve come up with if I don’t find a woman to marry?”
Papa sighed. “I don’t think we need to delve into consequences. I trust you will do what’s right.”
He despised this part of his father’s character. The man was so ruthless in business that he had forgotten how to not be ruthless when it came to his family. He wanted what he wanted when he wanted it, and he had such faith in his vision being the right one that he manipulated anyone and anything to get it.
Clenching his jaw, Max said, “But there is one. Tell me.”
The air was thick with rising antagonism. There was a moment of silence before the man answered. “August has a new project she’s excited about. The Prince Albert Dock. She spent all summer on a proposal and is close to securing a deal.”
“And it’ll be profitable?”
“Oh yes, it’s a tidy sum that will help Crenshaw Iron get a firm foothold here in England.”
“But?”
“But I’m prepared to block the project if I need to.”
“You would stop a project you know is profitable to force me to marry? She would be crushed.” It wasn’t really a question. It was simply that Max couldn’t quite believe the depths to which his father would stoop.