The Rocky Mountain Heiress Collection (100 page)

Alex followed the direction of Will’s gaze and spied Hiram Nettles crossing the street toward them. A moment later, Nettles disappeared inside the building.

“Wonder who he’s come to see,” Will said.

A moment later, the door opened, and Alex turned to see Beck’s man standing in the entryway. “Guess that answers your question,” Alex said to Will. “Do come in, Mr. Nettles.”

“A moment of your time is all I need,” Nettles said. “Mr. Beck wishes a meeting with Viscount Hambly.”

He thrust an envelope toward Alex. When Will stepped between them to retrieve it, Nettles allowed it with a sigh.

“It appears our presence is requested on the evening train bound for Denver.” Pembroke met Alex’s stare. “Which leaves at a quarter to four.”

Alex reached for his watch, an action that never failed to bring thoughts of a certain green-eyed pickpocket. “It’s half past two already,” he said as he snapped the cover shut and replaced the watch in his vest pocket. “Surely Mr. Beck’s not so interested in seeing me that he’d require me to miss my dinner plans.”

Not that he had any.

“I assure you great concern has been given to your comfort, sir,” Nettles said. “Mr. Beck sent his rail car for the occasion, and his private chef will see to your evening meal. Elias makes a delicious mutton.”

“Mutton,” Pembroke echoed. “I always enjoy a delicious mutton.”

“What is the nature of this meeting, Mr. Nettles?” Alex crossed his
arms over his chest. “And please do not expect me to believe you’re ignorant of the facts.”

“I believe it concerns a business proposition that Mr. Beck wishes to make.” Nettles shrugged. “He mentioned you would be likely to agree once you were told he could repair any delays in your current situation.”

“Any delays,” Pembroke echoed. “So Beck’s behind this.”

Nettles put on a look of complete confusion that was either genuine or extremely good acting. “The truth, sirs, is that this time all I know is what I’ve told you.” He paused. “I’m to let Mr. Beck know immediately whether the three of us are going to be on that train. He will want to see you as soon as you arrive. What say you?”

Beck appeared to be going to a lot of trouble for this mystery meeting. It might be worth seeing what he wanted. That Alex might catch a glimpse of Beck’s daughter was both a reason to say no and a cause to hurry.

“There’s certainly nothing keeping us here. Not today, at least. Yes, why not?” Alex said as he once again went to the window.

“Excellent,” Nettles said. “I’ll inform Mr. Beck. In the meantime, you’re welcome to board the rail car at your earliest convenience.”

When Nettles had gone, Will joined Alex at the window. “What do you figure this is about?”

“Could be anything.” Alex reached for his coat and hat. “There’s only one way to find out.”

“I’m still holding him responsible for our issues with the investors,” Pembroke said. “No matter how good the chef’s mutton is.”

While Pembroke declared the mutton quite tasty, Alex had no stomach for it. For any of it. Between the issue of the observatory and the irritation of marrying an American stranger for money, nothing from the
kitchens of the Beck rail car could tempt him to eat. By the time the train reached Denver, Pembroke and Nettles appeared to be fast friends, while Alex had sat in sullen silence the entire trip.

Thus, his mood upon greeting Daniel Beck was not the best, though he was slightly less irritated than the first time he stepped inside an office owned by the man.

Of course, this time he wasn’t soaked to the bone and just released from a pair of handcuffs.

Unlike his Leadville office, the Denver headquarters of Beck Enterprises were palatial in size and grand in décor. The quality of artwork defied anything Alex had seen in the Louvre or the Tate, though he was unsure of the provenance of all but a few pieces.

“Welcome,” Mr. Beck said. “Forgive the lateness of the hour, but I’m sure you understand that some matters are far too important to delay.”

“About that—” Pembroke started.

“Mr. Nettles,” Beck interrupted, “would you and Mr. Pembroke excuse us? I’ve a private matter to discuss with the viscount.” He turned his attention to Will, who seemed perturbed. “I’m sure you understand, sir.”

To his credit, Pembroke looked to Alex for his answer. When Alex nodded, Will did the same. “Agree to nothing,” he said as he allowed Hiram Nettles to escort him out.

When the door shut behind the pair, Mr. Beck gestured to a chair then settled behind his desk. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“I was assured this was a matter of some urgency,” Alex said in response.

“And it is.” Mr. Beck paused to adjust his spectacles. “For you, that is.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’ve received disappointing news.”

A statement, not a question. But did Mr. Beck refer to the situation with the investors or did he have information regarding Miss Miller and her father that had not yet reached Leadville?

Alex let his gaze fall from Beck to the contents of his desk. Papers and folders were stacked in neat piles on one corner of the marble top, and half a dozen books had been situated on the other. In between sat a humidor that likely held cigars of excellent quality. When Alex looked back at Mr. Beck, he found the man studying him.

“Why am I here, sir?” he asked Beck.

To Alex’s surprise, the older man grinned. “Well done, son,” he said. “I appreciate a man who isn’t afraid to get right to the heart of the matter.” He paused. “I will do the same. I’ve a bargain to strike with you. A good one.”

His tone came across as a bit too patronizing for Alex’s liking. “And why would you wish to strike a bargain with me?”

Beck let out a long breath, then nodded. “I like you, Hambly. You and I, we take care of our own.” He waved away any possible response from Alex. “I’ll get right to the point.” He opened his desk drawer, pulled out a file, and set it on the desk between them. “Read it.”

With equal measures of curiosity and reluctance, Alex opened the file and began to read. Though his knowledge of contracts lacked in comparison to Pembroke’s, Alex could easily ascertain that this offer would not only fill the Hambly family coffers but also provide ample monies to replace the funding now on hold with the current investors.

He closed the file and set it back on the desk, then shook his head. “This is a generous proposition, Mr. Beck.”

“It is.”

“What’s the catch?”

Mr. Beck leaned back in his chair and gave Alex an appraising look. “My sources tell me your solicitor has not yet struck an agreement with the Miller family for Augusta’s hand.”

Alex’s first thought was to protest. While nothing had been signed, Pembroke had assured him the wedding date was set for next week. And yet Daniel Beck was no man to be trifled with.

“That is true,” Alex said. “At least not formally.”

“I can assure you that you won’t.” He paused just long enough to allow Alex to consider the implications. “However, I wish to offer a substitute. My daughter.”

“But, sir I couldn’t possibly—”

“Save your protests, Hambly,” Mr. Beck said. “Charlotte was no happier about this than you. However, she agreed, and I believe you will as well. You see, all I require from you is four years of engagement while Charlotte is at Wellesley and then a marriage upon her graduation.”

“A marriage?” It took a moment for the idea to register. “With me?”

“Yes, with you.” Again Beck waved away protest. “Lest you think I’ll leave my future son-in-law wanting for funds during the betrothal period, please consult the papers in front of you. Not only will you see that I’ll provide enough to satisfy your current needs, including paying those blasted inheritance taxes the queen’s so fond of, but I’ve also allowed for a generous allowance while you’re waiting to claim Charlotte as your bride.”

Most of this Alex heard from far away. The distance between the opposite side of the desk and the chair where he sat suddenly widened with the thought of spending the rest of his life with the green-eyed menace who possibly detested him.

The woman who found it perfectly acceptable to burn her corset, to
best him in a race by cheating, and to ruin not only a year’s worth of research but also a perfectly good telescope.

The woman whose kisses still seared his mind and haunted his dreams.

“Hambly?”

At the sound of his name, Alex’s attention returned to Mr. Beck. “Yes, sorry.”

“I need an answer.”

Alex rose. “I’d like my solicitor to look these papers over before I sign them.”

Daniel Beck barely blinked, nor did his face give away what he might be thinking. “So you’re accepting the offer? Pending Mr. Pembroke’s review, that is.”

Alex swallowed hard and willed himself to say anything but yes. Unfortunately, that was the only word that would come out.

An hour later, as he left the offices of Beck Enterprises with Will happily chattering about celebrating beside him, all Alex could think about was that four years was a very long time.

Anything could happen.

When seeking a suitable mate, a lady must first look to the future and then to the bank account. Failing that, a title is always preferable to a simple Mrs.

—M
ISS
P
ENCE

June 8, 1891
Denver, Colorado

The eighth day of June dawned gloriously clear with only the slightest bit of chill to the thin Colorado air. Charlotte stretched, half-expecting to feel Papa’s rail car rocking beneath her as she turned away from the sunlight and buried her head in her pillows.

With her college days behind her, there was no need to stumble from bed for a predawn meeting of the Crew Club. No more endless afternoons working on the editorial boards of the
Legenda
or the
Prelude
. No more classes in Greek or philosophy. And no more lunchroom chores.

Charlotte yawned, her fingers curling around the edges of her blanket as her gaze landed on the stack of trunks that held her things from Wellesley. Where had the last four years gone?

Of all that had been left behind when she boarded the train for home, Charlotte would miss Professor Harris’s mathematics lectures
most. Though many of her classmates groaned at the thought of the courses, Charlotte reveled in every moment.

Now she could take what she’d learned in pursuit of her diploma to her desk at Beck Enterprises. Her first day in her new position would begin that afternoon, as Papa had indicated last night that he would be spending the morning otherwise occupied and wished no interruption from his newest employee.

Charlotte snuggled into the comfort of her bed and allowed her eyes to drift shut. Only then did she allow the thought that had been whispering through her mind since the beginning of her senior term: would Papa recall the ridiculous bargain she’d made all those years ago?

Thus far he hadn’t mentioned a thing, and neither had Gennie. In four years, not a single reminder that upon graduation she would be obligated to marry Alex Hambly. This she took as Papa’s way of coming to his senses without admitting he’d been wrong.

It was an answer to the prayers she’d spoken each night and repeated each morning for most of her first two years at Wellesley. By the third year, the prayer had become a whisper on the winds when Charlotte felt the need, and by her senior year the only wedding she would admit to thinking of was her friend Ava’s, and then only in terms of what she might wear and what sort of parties would be held in celebration.

It seemed that the only thing her father required was her attention at board meetings and a full and thorough application of her education to the benefit of Beck Enterprises. And today was the day she began doing just that.

“Thank You, Lord, for this day,” she whispered as sleep once again overtook her.

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