Howard Haskell Takes A Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch Book 0) (3 page)

A tug on Elizabeth’s arm emphasized the point.

Elizabeth’s spirits sank. She ventured a glance across to Jonas. Jonas met it without expression, then looked away. But of course he would look away. No one paid any attention to pawns in any game.

She turned to seek out Henrietta and her shoes. Instead, she caught sight of the one man who
had
paid attention to her, Howard. He stood at the far end of the room with a woman who bore a distinct resemblance to him—possibly a sister—and another man. The moment their gazes connected, the flash of fire that had filled her blood returned. Elizabeth smiled a languorous, mischievous smile, just for him. She believed Howard Haskell when he said that he would take her away. She believed him when he said he would do it without her having to run. She just wasn’t sure how he would pull it off.

“
T
hat was a splendid evening
,” Howard commented to Cyrus the next morning as they strolled through Cincinnati’s financial district.

Cyrus laughed and shook his head. “You certainly did cause a ruckus.”

“Ruckus? What are you talking about?” Howard flashed his friend a smile as the two of them stepped inside of the offices of Peabody, French, and Pratt. He was long overdue for a visit with his man of business to discuss the status of his investments.

Cyrus snorted, then nodded to the spindly clerk who came to take his and Howard’s hats. “You accosted that poor Ayers woman and more or less tweaked her father’s nose.”

Howard’s brow rose to his hairline as he removed his hat. “That woman is my future wife,” he declared, then turned to the clerk to wave him off. “We can’t stay long, Biminey. I’m just here to get a summary from Peabody, then I’ve other business to attend to.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Haskell.” The young clerk bobbed and bowed, smiling all the time, admiration in his eyes.

Howard flushed with satisfaction at the special treatment, then turned back to Cyrus. “Elizabeth Ayers is an angel. An angel that I am determined to make my wife.”

“And how does she feel about that?” Cyrus drawled.

Howard burst into a grin. “She feels the same way.”

“She does?” Surprise filled Cyrus’s face.

“She told me so herself as we were finishing our heavenly dance.”

His friend stuttered and blew out a breath before deciding on a smile. “Well done then, old friend.” He paused, shifted his weight, and narrowed his eyes. “So how do you intend to go about convincing her parents of the same? They didn’t look particularly pleased with you last night.”

Howard nodded, accepting the truth. “We shall simply have to pay a visit to Mr. Carl Ayers once we’re done with Peabody to confront him with facts.”

“The facts of your business?” Cyrus’s grin turned cunning.

“The facts of my true and abiding love for his daughter.” Howard corrected him.

“Who you only just met last night.”

Howard breathed out a sigh, even as Biminey reappeared to show them in to Peabody’s office. “Time is irrelevant when love has found you at last. I don’t need days or weeks or a lifetime to know that Elizabeth is the woman for me. The heart knows what it wants when it sees it.”

Cyrus chuckled. “I’ll grant you, she is pretty.”

“Pretty? She’s so much more than that.”

Howard didn’t have time to advance his argument. He and Cyrus were shown into a small but richly appointed office. A short, older man with round spectacles stood behind a mahogany desk that took up half the room. It was filled with papers and ledgers, but there was a neatness and order to everything.

“Ah, Haskell, Piedmont. Good to see you.”

Osgood Peabody came out from behind the desk to shake both men’s hands. He was at least a head shorter than Howard—who was taller than most—but he had a presence that brooked no nonsense and demanded respect. Like a headmaster at a prestigious school.

“Peabody.” Howard greeted him warmly. “Tell me the good news, man. How are my investments faring?”

Peabody blinked rapidly and adjusted his glasses. “Very well, in fact, sir. I don’t know how you do it, but you have an uncanny sense for profit.”

“He has an uncanny sense for women too, if we are to believe his latest obsession,” Cyrus added.

Peabody smiled his headmaster smile, as if Howard were his favorite pupil. “What’s this?”

“I am in love, sir.” Howard nodded with exaggerated gravity. “And I need to be certain that my financial empire is in place so that I may provide my future wife with every comfort her heart desires.”

Cyrus rolled his eyes.

Peabody smiled. “And who is this fortunate woman?”

“Elizabeth Ayers.”

Peabody gaped, then shook his head, chuckling. “Good luck with that. I hear that her marriage to Mr. Jonas Armstrong will secure the fortunes of both families. All of Cincinnati is talking about what a coup the merger will be.”

Something cold and steely closed around Howard’s gut. So that was what Elizabeth’s wistful look at the dance was about. She was being sold off like any other commodity. His determination to whisk her away and into his arms solidified.

“It would be a brilliant coup,” he said with a smile, “if it were to ever happen. Unfortunately for Mr. Armstrong, I have other plans, and the lady is more than amenable to them.”

Peabody humored him with a pat on the arm. “If you say so, Haskell. Now, have a seat and I’ll explain how your investment in the Whitewater Canal tripled your net worth.”

Howard did his best to sit still and pay attention to the figures that Peabody threw at him. All he truly needed to know was that the majority of his investments were wildly successful, and that he had more than enough money to pack up and start heading west. The world and America in particular was constantly on the move these days, and he needed to be too.

“So even if you were to retire right now and spend the rest of your life sunning in the orient,” Peabody finished, “you would spend the rest of your life as a wealthy man.”

“Fortunately for me, I have no intention of retiring and sunning anywhere.” Howard clapped his hands on the arms of his chair and pushed himself to stand. “I have other empires to build and worlds to conquer.”

“We’re heading west,” Cyrus added, standing as well.

“Are you?” Peabody brightened. “An exciting place, the West. Aren’t you anxious about Indians?”

“They should be anxious about me.” Howard grinned. He was being arrogant, but sometimes the only way to push forward was to do it as though you have every right and then some.

Peabody chuckled. “Well, I do hope you’ll maintain your contacts with Peabody, French, and Pratt, no matter how far your travels take you.”

“I’ll make sure he does.” Cyrus winked at the man.

There wasn’t much more to discuss. A few more details were shared, then Howard and Cyrus shook Peabody’s hand and headed on their way.

“It’s good to know that we’re already rich men at least one time over,” Cyrus said as they continued on. “Now maybe your sister will consider my offer of marriage.”

“She hasn’t said yes yet?” Every time Cyrus or Virginia talked about their dance around the topic of marriage, it gave him a warm feeling in his gut. The two were perfectly suited to each other. It was about time they made their long-time dalliance—the activities of which fooled precisely no one—official.

“You know Virginia,” Cyrus answered, face pink with pleasure.

“Yes, I do. Heaven help the man who gets into an argument with my sister!”

They headed on along Commerce Street. Howard surprised Cyrus as they reached Second Street by turning instead of going on.

“We’re not going to Heeney’s for lunch?” he asked.

“We’ve got other business first.”

Howard’s grin was so sly that Cyrus shook his head. He had a plan. He always had a plan. Winning Elizabeth Ayers was as easy as revealing the extent of his fortune to Carl Ayers. Any man who would use his daughter to seal a business deal would be just as likely to renege on that deal when a better one came along. One conversation would solve the entire problem.

He was in the middle of mentally rehearsing what he planned to say as they approached the building that held Mr. Ayers’s office, but that preparation was cut short as the front door opened and Jonas Armstrong strode out.

“Why, if it isn’t Jonas Armstrong.” The sharp, giddy thrill of victory rose up through Howard’s spine, and he straightened to his full height. Bearding this lion, who thought he could lay claim to Elizabeth, in his den would be a treat.

Jonas searched the street for the source of the greeting. When he spotted Howard and Cyrus, his eyes narrowed in bland distaste. “You.”

Howard doffed his hat and greeted Jonas like a gentleman. “We were not properly introduced last night.”

Jonas curled his lip. “There was a reason for that. I have no interest in being introduced to impudent riff-raff.”

He began to walk on, but stopped as Howard said, “Impudent? Why, I suppose I have been called that before.” Howard winked at Cyrus.

“Mostly by your mother,” Cyrus added. “Oh, and Professor Cowley. And Mr. Deeters at the bank. Oh, and let’s not forget Mrs. Chambers.”

“Mrs. Chambers,” Howard repeated, giving the name a saucy connotation.

Jonas pivoted back to them, letting out a peevish breath. “I’ll thank you not to accost gentlemen on the street,” he snapped. “Or to molest ladies in a ballroom.”

“Molest?” Howard quivered with insult. “I would never.”

“How were you admitted to the mayor’s ball anyhow?” Jonas sniffed. “I thought the guest list was exclusive.”

“We let ourselves in,” Cyrus said, tossing Howard a wink.

Chuckling inwardly, Howard played along. “Any man who hopes to get ahead in the world should always make their own invitation.”

Jonas studied the two of them as if he had something sour in his mouth. “I know why you’re here.”

“You do?” Howard asked.

“That makes one of us,” Cyrus said. “I’m still not sure.”

Jonas raised a hand as if to swat their antics away. “You’ll never get a job in this town. Not as a clerk, not as a junior accountant, not as a street-sweeper. I’ll see to it that every reputable establishment will toss you out on your backsides the moment you step through the doors.”

“Dear me.” Howard shook his head. “That does sound unpleasant.”

“Tough luck there, Howard.” Cyrus pretended to console him.

“I don’t think I will ever recover from the blow.” Howard sighed dramatically.

“There, there. You could still join the army.” Cyrus patted his shoulder.

Jonas huffed. “I don’t have time for you.” He spun back to his original course and marched on.

This time Howard let him go. He and Cyrus chuckled and exchanged winning looks, then turned to head inside the building.

Carl Ayers had his office on the building’s second floor. As expected, Howard and Cyrus only got as far as his secretary’s desk.

“Mr. Ayers is engaged.” The owlish man attempted to dismiss Howard without even looking at him.

“And I am engaged as well.” Howard beamed and hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his vest. “To his daughter.”

The clerk looked at him over the top of his glasses. “You don’t look like Jonas Armstrong to me,” he drawled.

“Jonas Armstrong is ancient history,” Howard declared. “Behold, the future!”

As he stood straight, arms extended to tease the clerk with his show of enormous ego, the door behind the desk opened and Mr. Ayers stepped out.

“Grundy, I need you to—”

Carl Ayers stopped short at the sight of Howard. His whiskers quivered and his jaw hardened. He stepped to the desk, slammed the paper he held on the surface, then straightened and did his best to appear intimidating.

“Get out,” he said.

Howard responded with a smile. He stood a few inches taller than Mr. Ayers, so he had no need to puff himself up or make himself more intimidating than he already was. Instead, he worked to appear as warm as possible, though all the while, he studied his opponent, looking for signs of weakness.

“Father, how delightful to see you in such high spirits this morning,” Howard said.

“What are you talking about? Grundy, get this man out of here,” Mr. Ayers ordered.

“Y-yes, sir?” Grundy cowered in his seat.

“I have simply come to pay a visit and to assure you that I will do my utmost to give your daughter Elizabeth the happiest life any woman could wish for.” Howard ignored him, sticking to his own agenda.

Mr. Ayers let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t know who you think you are, but whoever that is, I will not be spoken to in such an impertinent manner by…by a nobody.”

“And I wouldn’t expect you to be,” Howard agreed. “So it’s fortunate that I’m not a nobody.”

“You are as far as I’m concerned.” Mr. Ayers began to turn away.

“On the contrary, sir,” Howard continued with his best smile. “I am somebody. I am somebody near and dear to you, somebody you will very much want to say that you know in just a short time.”

Mr. Ayers took the bait and pivoted back to Howard. “Who are you, then?”

With a grin as wide as the western horizon, Howard said, “I’m your future son-in-law.”

Mr. Ayers turned red, the loose flesh around his neck shaking with rage. He raised a long, bony finger and pointed to the door. “Get out, you impudent scoundrel.”

“Impudent again.” Howard sighed.

“I told you so.” Cyrus was having a hard time not laughing.

“If I see you so much as darken my doorstep again, I’ll call the authorities,” Mr. Ayers went on.

“You would do that to your own son-in-law?” Howard feigned hurt.

“You are no such thing. Get out now!”

The point was made. The time to back off had come. Howard continued to smile as he took a step toward the door, Cyrus with him.

“I understand your surprise at the situation,” Howard said. “But my only concern is for Elizabeth. Elizabeth wants me, not Jonas Armstrong.” He said the name as though it was a joke. “And so she shall have me, and I shall have her.”

“You shall not,” Mr. Ayers snapped.

Howard grinned and bowed his head, though not in acquiescence. When he lifted it again, deadly seriousness shone in his eyes. “Mark my words, sir. You will embrace me as a beloved son before this month is done. You will welcome me into your house with open arms, and you will smile with pride and gratitude on the day you give Elizabeth’s hand to me.”

“Get out now!” Mr. Ayers shouted.

Back straight, smile still in place, as if he hadn’t a care in the world, Howard turned and marched out the door.

Once they were in the stairwell leading to the first floor, Cyrus let out a breath. “That went well.”

Howard snorted with laughter. “Of course it did. I’m Howard Haskell. I always get what I want.”