The Rocky Mountain Heiress Collection (85 page)

Will tilted his head. “People will talk.”

“Let them,” Alex snapped.

A nod. “Done. That should buy a few years of ease.”

“Good,” Alex said. “Now might I return to my work? I’ve got a year’s worth of research to present tomorrow, and I’d like to avoid looking the fool.”

“Yes, of course. There’s just one more thing.”

“What?” Alex said, the word coming out on a long breath. “And do be brief.”

“Miss Beck? Shall I make inquiries as to her father’s interest in joining families? I understand the older Mr. Beck is quite levelheaded and decent in comparison to his brother. Though,” Will said, with the beginnings of a grin, “I cannot vouch for his ability to connect with a decent left-handed jab like his brother can.”

“Out.”

“Do find your humor,” Will said. “Remember, all you have to do is get the Beck woman to marry you. Then what’s hers is yours. What formerly belonged to the Becks will be in control of the Hamblys.”

“Will, I’ve no desire to—”

“I would be breaking a confidence to tell you exactly what she’s inheriting upon the earl’s death, but you’d be shocked to know the value that’s been settled on her head.”

“I’ve no time to be shocked,” Alex said, “so your secret’s safe. Nor do I have time to entertain potential buyers on the other side of the ocean, be they seeking to purchase family mines or the family name. Thus, I believe our discussion is over.”

Alex went back to his notes, settling the massive stack into three smaller and more manageable piles. If only he had actual data on the comet. The data on hand would have to suffice for now.

Someday, however, if he could convince the Astronomer Royal of the value of the project, perhaps he’d find the comet.

“So you won’t mind that I’ve made discreet inquiries as to the cost of a mention in the next issue of
The Titled American
?” Will asked. “I understand it’s required reading for the Dollar Princesses.”

“Out. Now.”

Will steepled his hands and leaned forward. “Understand that while I am paid to see to the Hambly family’s interests, the fact that you are my best friend makes me partial to your interests over the rest.”

The sharp retort Alex had planned died in his throat. “I appreciate that, friend. Truly, I do.”

“Then receive my advice with an open heart. Seek out a bride, preferably Miss Beck, and settle the question of finances once and for all. Then you can live happily with your work, and you’ll never have to worry about selling off parts of the Hambly empire to keep the family from ruin.” He reached for the documents on the desk between them and Alex’s heart lurched. “With nothing to do but compile pages and pages of this stargazing material while your family leaves you blissfully alone.”

“Please.” Alex reached for the precious documents. “Put those back.” When Will complied, Alex breathed a sigh of relief. If anything were to happen to his notes …

“Am I allowed to make discreet inquiries?”

“As to meeting with potential buyers of the Leadville mine, yes. As to an arrangement of marriage? No.” Alex held up his hand to silence Will’s protest. “As to Miss Beck in particular, I prefer not to be saddled with a woman who can shoot better than me.”

“Consider it, Alex.”

Alex let out a long sigh. Rarely did his friend prove so persistent. “After my presentation tomorrow and not a moment before.” He gave Will a direct look. “Not one minute before. And not another word about the Beck woman. She’s completely …” Words escaped him.

“Unsuitable?” Will supplied.

“Indeed. As is the idea of marriage at all. Not when there are other options.”

“Understood.” The chair creaked as Will rose.

Alex’s office door flew open, and words tumbled toward him. “A word with you, Mr. Hambly.”

“Miss Beck.” Will Pembroke gave the disgraced heiress his most dignified bow then moved to stand between her and Alex. “I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I told you the viscount and I were just speaking of you.”

Charlotte held her head high as she regarded the green-eyed gatekeeper. “Apparently you and everyone else in London are speaking of me.” She looked past him to the man she’d come to confront. His right eye was still bruised and swollen, courtesy of Uncle Edwin and, by association, her. The urge to apologize again for her childish behavior prodded her, but Charlotte kept silent. Better, she decided, not to mention the topic at all. She turned her attention back to the gatekeeper. “Might I have a moment with Viscount Hambly alone?”

“Yes, of course,” the fellow said with far too much enthusiasm. “Though as his solicitor, I must inquire as to whether the matter you wish to discuss is business or personal.”

Charlotte leveled an even stare at him. “Neither.”

“Well then.” His smile broadened. “The viscount and I were just concluding our business. For
today
,” he added.

“Then my timing is perfect.” Just as she’d practiced, Charlotte took a deep breath and swept into the room as if she owned the place.

A trio of long windows on the opposite wall had been thrown open to the sea breeze, filling the room with a heady mixture of sunshine and salt air. With Miss Pence’s instructions foremost in her mind, Charlotte
affixed the imaginary egg to her head and completed her journey across the room.

Helping herself to the empty chair, she settled in and smoothed her skirts before regarding the obviously shocked astronomer with her most casual expression. Only when the door closed behind Hambly’s friend did she allow a smile.

Miss Pence would have given her high marks for not only the execution of her walk across the room but also for the effort required to keep the imaginary egg balanced atop her head when her knees were about to buckle.

A lady does not spartle about nor wear a grinagog’s expression when crossing a room
, Miss Pence was fond of saying. Charlotte had gone to three of Grandfather’s dictionaries before translating the statement. Thus, she walked as demurely as she looked, which was without grin or expression.

It wasn’t easy.

“Good afternoon,” she said pleasantly.

“Not particularly,” Viscount Hambly muttered as he sank back against his chair. He seemed to gather his wits and his manners at the same time. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit, Miss Beck?” He shook his head. “No, first, how did you find me?” A pause. “Did Pembroke send for you?”

“Pembroke? Who is that?”

“Never mind,” Alex said with a sigh. “Go on with your answer, and do make it brief.”

“Interesting story, actually.” And one she hoped never to admit to in its entirety. “Your houseman Franz is most helpful.”

“So he told you where to find me, did he?”

“I’m afraid he extracted a promise for me not to tell.”

Hambly smiled, a welcome change to his rather grouchy personality. “And yet you just did.”

Ignoring his comment, she spied a folded copy of the
Times
in the trash bin and retrieved it. “I see you’ve read today’s paper.”

“No, actually I’ve been quite busy. My solicitor, however, was kind enough to bring a copy.”

He glanced toward the window and Charlotte followed his gaze. A lovely view of a park beckoned—a scene begging to be painted—but she ignored it to return her attention to the viscount.

“If you’ve been informed of what the
Times
has printed today, then you understand my predicament,” she said. “Our predicament, actually.”

The nobleman’s laughter held no amusement. “I fail to see how the two of us are bound together in anything resembling a predicament. There was no mention of me in any of the glorious descriptions of your recent performance.”

Charlotte lifted a gloved hand to adjust a well-placed curl. “Then you’ve not spoken to your mother. Because you and I were recently associated in that unfortunate incident—”

“Unfortunate incident?” He shifted positions to offer a look that told her nothing and yet spoke of strong feelings. Slowly, he brushed his knuckle against the purple smear beneath his eye. “Would that be your unfortunate tumble from the heavens or the unfortunate demise of your fan? Or perhaps you’re speaking of the unfortunate way your uncle called me out in front of several hundred of my mother’s closest friends and then offered up a souvenir of the moment?”

“As I recall, Viscount Hambly, it was your brother Martin who suffered the indignity. At least that is the man to whom my friend Colonel Cody claims he was introduced.” She paused to revel in his
obvious discomfort. “Never mind. It’s none of my business which Hambly twin is which.” Another pause. “Though you are Alexander, aren’t you?”

This time he responded with a glare. Charlotte suppressed a grin.

“In any case,” she continued, “your mother appears to be doing everything in her power to see that the Beck family is shunned from polite society.”

“Funny,” Viscount Hambly said. “It appears you’re doing fine in that endeavor without my mother’s assistance.”

“Fair enough.” Charlotte shrugged. “At least where it concerns the events that occurred at the Wild West show. But I assure you it was all a big misunderstanding.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” She studied her nails then lifted her gaze to meet his stare. “You see, the colonel and my father are old friends, so I’m quite comfortable in his presence, and many of his associates have been visitors to Papa’s ranch. When it was suggested that I might perform a postscript to the performance, the timing was most unfortunate. I’d just exchanged words with Gennie, you see.”

“Truly, Miss Beck, none of this is my concern.” He reached for a stack of papers, but she beat him to them.

Charlotte held the pages against her chest. “Do humor me a moment longer.”

His panicked expression was almost amusing. “Please,” he said slowly. “You’re holding my career in your hands. Quite literally.”

She suppressed a laugh and concentrated on her purpose. “Then I can safely assume I have your full attention.”

“You do, but I would appreciate it if you gave my notes back.”

“Of course,” Charlotte said sweetly. “Just as soon as you see to giving my family their reputation back. Starting with telling your mother to cease and desist with her insistence on cutting Gennie and Papa. Not that Papa’s here in London, but he’ll be furious when he finds out I am the cause of his banishment from proper society.”

“Banishment, is it?” the astronomer echoed. “I refuse to discuss anything with you until I am given my property back.”

He made a grab for the pages, but Charlotte moved too fast for him. “Viscount Hambly, do control yourself,” she said as she scrambled to her feet. “I mean you and your scribbling no harm. I merely wish to be heard.”

“Indeed, I’ve heard you.” He rose slowly. “What is it you’d like? Shall I arrange an appointment with my mother?”

Her eyes widened. “Do you think that will help?”

“Miss Beck, I know very little about what might work to persuade my mother to do anything.”

This she hadn’t expected. “But you’re her son. Surely you can persuade the countess of certain facts.”

“The countess prefers to consider only such facts as support her current position.” With catlike grace, the astronomer moved around the desk. “So unfortunately, you’ve come all the way to Greenwich for nothing.”

Charlotte took a step backward and collided with the chair, but she held tight to the papers the viscount seemed intent to retrieve. “I would just like some measure of justice for my family.”

“Starting with absolution from the countess and her well-placed friends for any sins you or your kin might have committed?”

Charlotte grasped the pages tighter. “Yes.”

“And this would be for what purpose? To enhance your standing in society?” he asked in a bitter, almost mocking tone as he moved toward her. “Perhaps to secure a marriage to some poor peer of the realm?”

“Honestly, Viscount Hambly, I couldn’t care one whit for standing in society. And as for marriage, I’ve no interest in hurrying the inevitable, be it to a peer of the realm or someone else.”

“And yet you’re quite anxious to see that your family’s standing is secure. Interesting.”

He made a quick move toward her, but Charlotte was faster, ducking under his arm before he could catch her. “Do control yourself,” she told him, her back to the door.

“I assure you control is no issue of mine.” His gaze swept the length of her. “Nor am I swayed by children posing as adults.”

His next lunge just missed her as she scooted between the desk and long wall of books. “Really, sir. You’re being quite difficult. And I’ll have you know I’m well removed from the nursery.”

“Hence the maturity displayed in holding hostage valuable research materials.”

“I’m going to ignore that.” She attempted a cursory glance at the too-handsome nobleman. “You do not appear to be advanced in years either.”

“Shall we compare?” he said as if daring her to respond. “I’ll soon celebrate my twenty-sixth birthday.” He paused. “And you?”