To Dream Again (36 page)

Styles sat up straighter on the leather seat, and his contempt for the man before him fled at the mention of a job.

"I want you to do something for me," the man went on, "and I will pay you very well to do it."

Twenty minutes later, Styles was back inside the King's Head spending the gold guinea he'd been given, and looking forward to all the gold guineas that would come his way in the near future.

He lifted his pint and saluted his own good luck. He loved a fight, and he loved getting a bit of his own back. And a wealthy toff was going to pay him a bloody fortune for doing both. Calvin Styles was a happy man.

Mara awoke the following morning with a smile on her face. She sat up in bed, remembering how glorious it had felt to run across the grass with the kite in her hand, the wind on her face, and her hair flowing loose behind her. A few months ago, she wouldn't have dreamed of doing such a thing.

She'd kept herself under rigid control for so long, but yesterday in the park she'd been carefree, laughing, and truly happy for the first time in a long time. Because of Nathaniel.

Before Nathaniel had come, her life had been predictable and uncomplicated. And joyless. Then he had breezed in like a whirlwind, with all his brashness and enthusiasm, with his passion for living. He opened her mind to new ideas and made her reevaluate the old ones. He opened her heart to new feelings and made her aware of all she'd been missing. She could feel something within her turning toward it like a flower toward the sun.

His upside-down face came before her eyes, and her smile widened. Only Nathaniel would do something like that, hang by his knees from a tree limb and kiss her. Only Nathaniel would blurt out declarations of love like that, bluntly, without thought.

Her smile faded. She leaned forward, hugging her bent knees. He couldn't possibly mean what he said. Could he? Love wasn't like that. It didn't just happen. It didn't just fall in one's lap like manna from heaven. Did it?

She thought of James and tried to remember how she'd felt when she'd loved him. She hadn't felt like this, twisted inside out by doubt and uncertainty. Had she?

She groaned and tossed back the sheets. She rose from the bed and began pulling clothes out of the armoire. The man was mad, that was all there was to it, and he was beginning to make her the same way.

She bathed and dressed, trying to put last night's episode out of her mind. He didn't mean it, she told herself. He might have felt a momentary affection for her after the day they had spent together, but that was all.

As she tied a fresh ribbon around her neck, she tried not to remember how he had pulled a ribbon from beneath her collar the day before. As she brushed out her hair, she tried not to remember how he had tied that ribbon around her braid. But the memory of how his hand had brushed against her and made her tingle would not go away.

We're falling in love
.

Ridiculous. She opened her window and dumped the soapy water from her bath out into the alley below, then shut the window and vowed not to think about it again.

You're lovely
.

Balderdash. She took a peek in the mirror over her

washstand, and her ordinary face stared back at her. The man was blind.

She lifted her hand to nibble uncertainly at her thumbnail, then slowly rotated her bare hand, staring at the reflection, at the white, shiny patches of skin that she never looked at because they were ugly. Ugly, painful reminders of a past she could not change, of a daughter who was dead, of her failed marriage and her forgotten dreams. With a tiny sob, she turned away from the mirror. She'd never felt more inadequate in her life.

She put on her gloves and her bonnet and pushed thoughts of love out of her mind. Then she left the lodging house and walked to the factory. There was no place for romance in her life, she told herself as she unlocked the front door. She didn't like it. She didn't have the time. She wasn't any good at it.

By the time Nathaniel arrived with their morning tea about thirty minutes later, Mara was hard at work. She had pushed those crazy thoughts aside, but the moment he entered the room, whistling, with the tray in his hands, all her doubts came flooding back.

Did you mean it?
The question hovered on the tip of her tongue as they sat down at the table and she poured their tea, but she couldn't ask. When she handed him his cup of tea she found him watching her with those perceptive eyes, a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. It didn't seem to bother him at all that she'd bolted at his declaration of love.

She felt defensive. He was looking at her as if he knew what she was thinking and was waiting for her to ask the question uppermost in her mind. Instead, she asked another. "Why do you always look at me as if you're trying to read my mind?"

His smile widened. "Why does it bother you?" he countered.

It irritated her that he looked so pleased with himself. "It doesn't," she lied.

"Good," he said. He pulled a scone from the basket between them and began to slather cream on it. "Because I like looking at you."

"Mara?" Michael's voice interrupted any reply she might have made and had both of them turning toward the stairs as the engineer entered the room. "Mara, the first load of tin is finally here from Halston's, but now they're saying they need to be paid."

A puzzled frown knit her brows. "But when I met with them, they agreed to give us thirty days' credit. So did all our suppliers, for that matter. Why is Halston's suddenly demanding cash on delivery?"

"I don't know," Michael answered. "Can you come down and talk to them?"

"Of course." She set her napkin beside her plate and rose to her feet, then followed Michael out the door.

Nathaniel watched her go, feeling shimmers of disquiet. Thoughts of love vanished from his mind as much more disturbing ones took their place. Halston's had delayed their tin shipment, putting them nearly a week behind schedule. They had originally agreed to thirty-day credit, and had suddenly changed their minds. A pattern was forming, and it made Nathaniel very uneasy.

He went downstairs. By the time he found Mara in the warehouse, she was in a testy debate with the delivery man from Halston Tin.

"But we were promised thirty days," she said. "Why are you reneging on your terms?"

The man shrugged. "Ma'am, I don't make the decisions. I was told to deliver the tin and pick up the money. No money, no tin. That's all I know."

"This is ridiculous! I—"

Nathaniel interrupted her by laying a hand on her shoulder. "Pay him."

She looked up at him in astonishment. "What?"

He nodded. "Pay him. We have the money in our account."

"That's not the point."

"It doesn't matter. This man said he doesn't make the decisions. Pay him." Nathaniel turned away. "I'm going to Halston's."

***

The owner of Halston Tin Supplies was unavailable. The secretary gave him the excuses. New company, not enough credit established elsewhere, not enough reliable references, no knowledge of agreements with Mrs. Elliot. He listened to the man ramble on and felt the eerie chill of watching the past repeat itself and the frustration of seeing no way to stop it.

Why? Nathaniel left the tin company and waved aside the cab that rolled past, preferring to walk back to Elliot's. As he walked, the question kept running through his mind. Why?

Other new companies managed to secure credit. Joslyn Brothers had seen no problem loaning him seven thousand pounds, but suppliers couldn't give him thirty days? It didn't make sense.

This would throw a spanner in the works. He and Mara had budgeted the money from the loan very carefully, and timing was critical. If he had to pay every supplier up front, he'd run out of cash before money from train sales came in. Without credit, they wouldn't be able to purchase any additional supplies. Train production would come to a halt, promised orders would not be delivered, and they'd be in the suds.

Just like before. Nathaniel came to a halt on the side

walk, so abruptly that the man walking behind him almost careened into him. The fellow stepped around him with an irritated glance, but Nathaniel hardly noticed, caught up in the realization that history was repeating itself.

His mind went back to those frustrating days in St. Louis when delayed shipments and demands for cash up front had eroded his capital, when he'd spent all his time and energy just trying to stay afloat, when he'd stood by helplessly as everything he'd spent years working for fell apart and his dream disintegrated before his eyes.

He'd held himself responsible, certain that his inability to obtain credit stemmed from his own lack of credibility. He'd thought the delays were just bad luck. But what if that were not the case? What if it had been Adrian? Suppliers could be bribed, even from thousands of miles away. Deliveries could be intercepted.

Street traffic flowed around Nathaniel, but he stood on the sidewalk like a rock in a stream, oblivious to all of it. Now that the idea was in his head, Nathaniel had the sick, certain feeling it was the truth.

Adrian had always been a bully, picking on those weaker than himself for the fun of it. But when their grandfather had given Nathaniel a place in the company, when he had proven to their father that he had brains and ability, Adrian had come to see him as more than just a bothersome little brother to torment for entertainment. He had begun to see him as a threat.

Nathaniel had never thought of himself as much of a threat, but he saw it now through his brother's eyes, too clear to ignore.

Adrian, who couldn't stand not being the center of attention, belittling him and telling lies about him to their father. Adrian, who couldn't stomach the idea of his brother as a partner, forcing him to choose between his dream and his ethics, forcing him to sell out. Adrian, who couldn't stand seeing him succeed, bribing suppliers and delaying deliveries, forcing him out of business. Adrian, who couldn't come up with an innovative idea to save his life, trying all the same tricks he'd used before. It all made perfect sense.

This time, he couldn’t let his brother succeed. Nathaniel resumed walking, but at the corner, he turned, heading for Finch's office. His instincts told him he was right, and he wanted to know what he could do about it.

***

"Nothing."

Nathaniel stared at Finch across the desk, dumbfounded by his answer. "What do you mean, nothing? He destroyed my business!"

Finch was unimpressed. "What evidence do you have?"

"I don't need evidence to know one plus one is two." Nathaniel leaned forward, placing his palms on the desk. "The same things that happened before are starting to happen again."

"You have one similar incident. That's all."

"Two," Nathaniel corrected. "It can't be a coincidence."

"I agree, it looks suspicious. But without actual proof, you have no legal recourse."

"What kind of proof?"

"Witnesses. Suppliers who would testify that they were bribed. What supplier would be willing to do that? The solicitor sighed. "To be honest, I'm not even sure that would be enough. Being a peer, Leyland would be tried by the House of Lords, and I doubt they would take the word of a tin supplier over that of your brother."

Nathaniel straightened away from the desk. "I know Adrian is behind it all," he said, slamming one fist into his palm. "I just know it."

Finch shook his head. "I doubt the House of Lords would be willing to take your word for it."

Nathaniel knew he had no evidence that Adrian was responsible for what had happened. But that didn't mean he would allow it to happen again. "Finch, I want you to investigate. See if you can find that evidence."

"I'm not qualified for such a task."

"Then find someone who is."

"All right. What do you intend to do?"

"I shall continue with business as usual, of course. And I shall watch my back. There's nothing else I can do."

"Is that wise? If what you suspect is true, and you continue with your plans, problems will only escalate. But you haven't become Leyland’s competitor yet. You could stop making trains—"

"I won’t be bullied by my arrogant ass of a brother."

"Mr. Chase, aren't you forgetting something? You have a partner, you know. Mara does have some say in this, and I know she would not wish to continue this venture, given the additional risks."

Nathaniel knew it, too. He pushed Mara's fears to the back of his mind. "I will not allow Adrian to do this to me again."

"Even if Mara's future is at stake?"

"I'll tell her, in my own time and in my own way. In the meantime, I want you to find me some of that evidence you keep talking about."

He strode out of Finch's office without another word. He might not have legal recourse, but success was the best revenge. He would succeed, he would compete with his brother head-on, and he would win. He'd tell Mara what was happening, but nothing would stop him. Not even her fears.