Tom: To Secure His Legacy (Other Pens, Mansfield Park Book 4) Page 6
She glanced over her shoulder at Mr. Bertram. His handsome features were drawn with concern, and his eyes seemed to be questioning her.
“Very well,” she said as she straightened. “I am certain this venture will be profitable if you three gentlemen say it is.” She tried to keep the sharpness she felt out of her tone but did not succeed.
“That is not what we are saying,” Robert grumbled.
“Are you not? Is this then, a bad investment?”
Her brother growled. “You know of what I speak. You are not a foolish chit.”
“And yet you toss my concerns aside as if I were.” She pressed her lips together and pulled them into a tight smile. “Forgive me. I seem to be not quite myself today.”
Why it concerned her so much that someone so utterly unrelated to her as Mr. Bertram might lose some pounds on an investment should things go badly was beyond her. She should be dispassionately removed from the whole affair. They should only be numbers on a page, but they were not. She cared whether Mr. Bertram succeeded or not simply because he had become a friend.
“Oh, no. You are very much yourself,” Robert muttered.
It took a great deal of fortitude for Faith to not reply as she wished. “Thank you, Mr. Clarke. Your service is always appreciated.”
She rose to leave. They were done. The decisions were made. All that remained to be done was to wait until either the profits or losses began to come in. She prayed that the losses would be small if there were to be losses at all. Mr. Bertram had trusted her. Her brow furrowed. That was it. Mr. Bertram’s success was her success for she had been the advisor behind the decisions – save for that last one, of course.
“I would like you to meet Mr. Durward.” Tom smiled up at her from where he still sat in front of Mr. Clarke’s desk. “I think it would help put your mind at ease.”
“I do not distrust your friend,” Faith said quietly. “I distrust the gentlemen who will shop at his establishment.”
Tom rose and stood before her, close enough that she had to look up at him. Close enough that she could feel that familiar tingling warmth that seemed to want to draw her closer to him.
“I assure you that you need only trust Gabe.”
His soft tone and expression nearly elicited a sigh from her. It was no wonder Mr. Bertram had the reputation he had of being a charmer. He was speaking of business deals and partners and yet, she wished to sigh like some besotted young miss – at his words.
“He will not allow anyone to take advantage of him or his friends. I would bet my life on it.” There was confidence in his tone.
“Do you gamble often, Mr. Bertram?” It was not what she wanted to say. However, she could not say she would go anywhere he offered if he would only keep smiling so that dimple showed. That certainly would not do.
“Perhaps a bit more than you.”
Faith blinked. “I do not gamble, Mr. Bertram.”
“Each of your investments is a risk – that is a gamble. Not one of them is a sure thing.”
“They are necessary,” Faith replied quickly.
“I do not disagree,” Tom assured her. “And you take a risk with your reputation and future by dressing as you do to come to this establishment, and though I do not know why you were dressed as you were yesterday when I saw you, I am going to venture a guess that your costume was due to taking some risk.”
“That is also necessary.” Faith bit down on the full retort she wished to make. If it were not for gentlemen who spent to excess or toss their inheritance away on some foolish pleasure, she would not have to take either of the risks he mentioned.
“Necessary gambles.”
“I do not gamble. I invest, and I see to those for whom I care.”
Tom shook his head. “What you do, you do for noble reasons. However, you are still taking a chance and putting yourself at risk.” He grasped her by her shoulders and held her gaze steady. “Not all gambles are unworthy of the risk. Mr. Durward is worth the risk to my finances. The investment will not harm my estate further than making it take longer for me to recoup what I have lost.”
If he were Robert, she would point out to him that his ability to choose risks wisely was what led to his loss. However, he was not Robert, and she did not wish to disparage his friend by saying his friend was a poor risk. She did not even know this friend beyond what she had heard from Mr. Bertram. Perhaps he was correct. Perhaps she did need to meet this Mr. Durward.
“You are right.”
“Oh, ho! Well done, Bertram!” Robert cried. “Those are not frequently used words in my sister’s vocabulary.”
Faith glared at her brother and mouthed the words shut up at him.
“I can understand why with you as her brother.”
Mr. Bertram smiled down at her and slowly removed his hands from her shoulders, almost as if he did not wish to remove them, which suit her quite well. She was not in any hurry to have him unhand her.
“A fine thing that is!” Robert protested. “I defended your decision to her, you know, and this is the thanks I get for my efforts?”
Mr. Bertram shook his head and rolled his eyes. “If you would be quiet for a moment, Eldridge, your sister might be able to tell me about what I am correct.”
There was a bit of huffing from her brother, but he held his tongue.
“I think I must meet Mr. Durward to feel at ease. I have little to go on for my part. The word of a friend, such as yourself, may be true in fact or it may be true due to the admiration a friend holds for another friend.”
“Then, it is me you do not trust.”
Faith’s eyes grew wide. “No, that is not what I meant. I only meant that a friend will often see the best in another friend and may be blind to any deficit.” She sighed. “I am not making it any better, am I?”
Mr. Bertram chuckled and shook his head. “I do understand your concern, though I would wish for my word to be taken as surety.”
“I am sorry,” Faith muttered. “I truly did not mean to disparage either you or your friend.”
She would be quite happy to sink through the floor and escape through some door on the lower floor even if it meant the possibility of running into cobwebs or seeing a rat. That would be better than remaining here and wishing to cry over her words. Cry! Of all the foolish things to wish to do! As if a few salty drops of water could atone for her dreadful words.
“Truly, Miss Eldridge. I do not find fault in your caution.” Mr. Bertram’s words were gentle, as was the look in his eye.
“I do,” Robert muttered.
“Shut up, Eldridge.”
Faith could not stop the grin that Mr. Bertram’s words brought to her lips. She had so wished to say that very thing to her brother. “When might we be able to call on your friend?”
“I am expected for tea.”
“Today?”
Mr. Bertram nodded. “I shall not give him a farthing until you have seen for yourself that I am not making an unwise investment.” His lips, which Faith had to admit seemed to draw her attention often, quirked upward. “However, you may wish to go home and change first.”
Robert laughed as Faith’s cheeks burned.
“Yes… of course…” she stammered, “but I have not been invited by Mr. Durward.”
“He will not be offended. However, I must warn you about his mother.” Mr. Bertram gathered his papers from the desk. “She is a bit of a mother hen, and anyone who enters her door runs the risk of becoming one of her chicks.” He paused at the door before opening it. “Are you willing to take the gamble?”
“It seems it is necessary,” Faith replied with a saucy grin, “but I do not gamble, Mr. Bertram.” Nor did she flirt, and yet she seemed to be doing a fine job of that.
His eyes scanned her from head to toe and back again, causing her insides to threaten to burst into flame. How did he do that with merely a look?
“No, of course not, Miss Eldridge,” he said. “Of course not.”
Chapter 9
He wished to remove her hand from his arm so that he could place that arm around her shoulders and draw her closer to his side. But that would not do.
Her brother had permitted her to attend him with only a maid as their chaperone. Should that chaperone return home with a poor report, any hope of spending another pleasurable few hours seated beside Robert’s sister with an account book in front of them would be lost. And Tom desperately needed her help with his finances almost as much as he was beginning to crave her presence.
That last fact was somewhat disturbing. For one thing, he was not yet ready to begin a search for a wife in earnest. Added to that, his attraction to her seemed opposed to his desire to leave his former self behind, for he thought entirely too often about how her lips must taste and how the softness of her form pressed against him would feel.
“Oh, Mr. Bertram!” Mrs. Durward’s greeting interrupted Tom’s thoughts before they could travel any further down an inappropriate road. “You have brought a friend!” Mrs. Durward stood behind the butler, peering out at the two people in front of her door.
“This is Miss Eldridge.”
Despite his best efforts, when Miss Eldridge removed her hand from Tom’s arm to enter the house, Tom instinctively placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her. However, no sooner had his hand connected with her person than he snatched it away.
“Miss Eldridge, this is Mrs. Durward.”
Faith’s eyes looked first at him, her gaze dropping to his hand, and then with a smile, she turned her eyes toward Mrs. Durward.
He would apologize later. Clasping his hands behind his back, Tom followed Faith into the house as she gave her greeting to Mrs. Durward.
“Mr. Bertram did not think it too forward of me to accompany him. He is very desirous that I meet his friend, Mr. Durward.”
“I assure you it is not forward at all,” Mrs. Durward said, barely refraining, Tom noticed, from helping Miss Eldridge remove her coat.
Tom placed his hat on the table near the door as he always did when he entered and handed his coat to the butler, who had also gathered Miss Eldridge’s things.
“Miss Eldridge has been helping me with my finances.”
Mrs. Durward’s eyes lit with curiosity. “You like numbers?”
“I do.”
“My son always loved numbers,” Mrs. Durward said. “He would count everything when he was just a boy. He would even place his biscuits in groups and count by groups. And now he does very well in business. It is as if he was designed for it from birth.”
“I was not so blessed,” Tom said.
Gabe’s mother smiled at him. “You have other talents.” She did not elaborate on that fact but rather turned back to Faith. “Gabriel also loved to set things sailing.” She sighed. “And now he owns ships, and soon he will have his own warehouse and a store.”
“You must be very proud of him.”
Miss Eldridge gave Tom an amused smile as they followed Mrs. Durward into the sitting room.
“Oh, I am. I always have been,” she replied. Then, she turned and took Faith’s hands. “You are not so very cold, but I would suggest a seat nearer the fire just to be safe.”
Faith’s eyes had grown wide at the gesture. “Of course.”
“Mr. Bertram prefers this settee.” Mrs. Durward lowered her voice. “There is a footstool near, in case he needs it.”
“I see.” Faith pressed her lips together, but Tom could see amusement dancing in her eyes.
“A mother hen,” he whispered.
“Indeed,” Faith whispered in reply.
“There is room for two on the settee, and it is not too far from the fire,” Tom suggested. He would be much more comfortable with Miss Eldridge near him rather than the fire.
“I am not cold.”
“That matters not in this room. You will see. Mrs. Durward is used to the heat of India.”
“Is that where she gets her dark looks?” Faith whispered.
Tom nodded. “You do not object to her, do you?”
Faith shook her head. “No, though I am certain some might think I should.” Her eyes grew wide as Gabe entered the room. “Oh, my! I knew you had said he was injured, but I had not thought…” She fell silent as Gabe approached, hobbling across the room on his crutch and with one arm visibly bandaged.
“I never did tell you how Durward sustained his injuries, did I?” Tom said.
She shook her head.
“Someone attempted to steal my boat with the lady I loved on board.” Gabe had reached them in time to hear Tom’s question. “My injuries are not so bad as his since mine will heal, and his will not.” Gabe bowed as best he could to Miss Eldridge and then looked at Tom inquisitively.
Slowly he turned his eyes away from Faith, whose mouth had dropped open for a moment. No doubt she was shocked by Gabe’s blunt explanation of his injuries.
“Durward, this is Miss Eldridge. Miss Eldridge, this is my good friend, Mr. Gabriel Durward.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Durward.”
“Likewise,” Gabe said before taking a seat near the settee. “Miss Crawford was going to join us today, but she was uncertain how long she and her sister would be delivering their goods to the foundling’s hospital.” He turned to Faith. “They sew clothing and blankets for the children.”
“That is lovely.”
The truth of her words shone in the delight that suffused her features. Once again, Tom was reminded of an angel by how her beauty radiated from something intangible within her.
“Miss Eldridge is the lady who is helping me with my finances,” Tom explained to Gabe while not removing his eyes from Faith. “I thought it would be good for you to meet.”
“So, you are the expert that Mr. Clarke selected to help Bertram?”
“I am.” A faint pink stained her lovely cheeks.
“We were just at Mr. Clarke’s earlier today. My books appear to be in order for the time being, and Mr. Clarke was pleased with them. However, Miss Eldridge holds some trepidation about the risk involved in investing in a store.” He smiled reassuringly when Faith turned concerned eyes toward him.
“I am glad to hear it,” Gabe said, settling back into his chair with only a small grimace.
“You are?”
Gabe nodded in reply to Faith’s startled question.
“There are risks to such a thing.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you attempting to placate me?”
Tom chuckled. “Durward rarely placates anyone when it comes to business ventures.”
“Even a lady?”
“Even a lady,” Gabe replied as Tom could not, for he had gotten somewhat lost in the fluttering of lashes over blue eyes.
“I like that you are direct, Miss Eldridge. It makes me feel better about having sent Bertram in your direction.”
Mrs. Durward, accompanied by the tea things, entered the room, and talk of business arrangements died for some time while cups of tea were distributed, and everyone had assured her that they did not require anything further. Then, the conversation shifted to more mundane things for a time.
Tom watched Faith as she spoke to Mrs. Durward about the dampness of the weather and how it made the cold so much more unbearable.
Miss Eldridge was at ease here with his friends. She glanced his direction a few times, but for the most part, her attention was fully on Mrs. Durward, and her comments did not sound empty. There was a compassion within Miss Eldridge that was incapable of being contained. Her brow furrowed with concern as Mrs. Durward spoke of her son’s injuries, while Tom chuckled at Gabe’s grumble over it.
“Injuries should not be taken lightly,” Faith said to Gabe. “Your mother is quite correct. An injury that is not tended to as it ought to be can lead to some dire consequences. You have only to look to your friend to learn such a thin
g.”
“Bertram?” Gabe asked.
Faith nodded. “If Mr. Bertram’s injury had been tended to properly when it was first sustained rather than days afterward, he might not have developed the fever he did.” She turned to Mrs. Durward. “It nearly claimed his life.”
Mrs. Durward gasped. Tom had never told Gabe’s mother precisely how serious the injury resulting in his need for a cane had been.
“A fall where one sustains breaks and bruises is one thing, to acquire an unsightly gash in the process opens the body up to a myriad of ravages. That is what caused Mr. Bertram’s illness, I am nearly certain of it, as was the surgeon.”
Tom lowered his cup slowly to the table. Miss Eldridge seemed to know a great deal about his accident and injury.
“He was fortunate to survive,” Faith added.
“Thanks to an angel,” Tom muttered.
“An angel, you say?” Durward asked.
“As you know,” Tom answered.
“I do not know,” Mrs. Durward said.
Tom tipped his head and closed his eyes so that he could only faintly see Miss Eldridge through his lashes. She did look similar to the maid who had sat next to his bed.
His eyes flew open.
Maid!
A maid had sat next to his bed while he was ill. That was why seeing Miss Eldridge dressed like a maid yesterday had seemed as if it had happened before and why his mind would not allow him to stop wondering about her purpose in dressing in such a fashion.
“What were you doing yesterday?” he asked.
Faith blinked. “I did many things yesterday.” Her gaze lowered to watch her fingers break a biscuit into tiny pieces on her plate.