To Dream Again (42 page)

He pushed the trunk against the wall to move it out of the way. "After what happened last night, you have to ask?"

"I thought we agreed—"

"We did, but what happened last night changes things. I want to make sure it doesn't happen again."

She paled. "You think something like this might happen again?"

"I'm certain of it."

"What makes you so certain?" she asked.

He had to tell her. Honesty and trust. Wasn't that the litany he chanted to her? Nathaniel walked over to one corner and grasped the back of the chair. He pulled it out a few feet. "Sit down. I want to talk to you."

She didn't move. "What makes you so certain?" she repeated.

He circled around to face her over the back of the chair. "Sit down."

Something in his voice told her not to argue. She walked over to him and took the offered chair, as he sat down on one of the crates against the wall. He rested his forearms on his knees and stared down at his clasped hands for a long moment without speaking, then he looked up at her. "Did I ever tell you that my brother and I were partners once?"

She knit her brows in puzzlement. "No. What does that have to do with—"

"My father died when I was twenty," Nathaniel interrupted. "In his will, he left nearly half of Chase Toys to me."

She settled herself more comfortably in her chair. "I thought you said your father didn't have a very high opinion of you."

"He didn't, when I was a boy. He ran Chase Toys, but my grandfather owned it. When he died, my grandfather left it to my father with the stipulation that I be made chief engineer. My father had no choice but to bring me into the firm. I left Cambridge and went to work for Chase Toys. I was nineteen."

He turned his head and stared off into space, remembering. "We had to work together, and my father began to see that I had some good ideas. Adrian was in his last year at Cambridge, and with him away most of the time, my father and I developed some mutual respect. When Adrian finished school, he came into the company as well. You can't imagine what that was like."

"Yes, I can."

He glanced up at her in surprise.

"I met your brother, remember? A very arrogant man."

Nathaniel acknowledged her comment with a wry smile. "At first, I don't think Adrian considered me a threat to his position. He was the heir, groomed to take over. I don't think he realized our father would ever take me seriously. But when he came into the firm, he saw how our relationship had changed in his absence, and I think it was then that he truly began to hate me. My father died that summer and left nearly half the company to me. Adrian and I were forced to be partners. It was a failure from the start."

"What happened?"

"It was the worst two years of my life. If I made a decision, Adrian countermanded it. If I designed a new toy, Adrian refused to manufacture it. He constantly undermined my authority, refused to compromise, and there was nothing I could do. All my life, I'd wanted to be a part of the company, but even after all that had happened, I was still excluded."

"That's why you were so insistent on having fifty-one percent of Elliot's," she murmured. "So I couldn't do to you what your brother had done."

"Yes. I wanted to have control, because when Adrian and I were partners, I had none. He made all the decisions, and I could only stand by and watch him slowly send Chase into ruin. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. Adrian offered to buy me out. I took the money and left for America."

"I still don't understand. What does all this have to do with the vandals that broke into the factory?"

"Let me finish." He sighed and leaned back against the wall behind him. "At first, I didn't know what to do. I wandered around for several years, temporarily lost at sea, as it were, trying to figure out what to do with myself. I knew I could never be a part of Chase Toys again."

"So what did you do?"

"I worked for a few toy companies to support myself, but I started working on my own ideas again, at night, until I had enough new inventions for a product line of my own. Then, I took all the money I had and started my own toy company. It failed after a year."

"You told me about that," she reminded him gently.

"Yes, but I didn't tell you why." He took a deep breath. "I kept having problems. Suppliers wouldn't give me credit, shipments of parts kept being delayed, toys shipped to customers would never arrive. I kept pouring more and more cash into the business, but I finally ran out. The problems bankrupted me."

She stiffened. "I see."

"I just didn't want to start over." He paused, then added quietly, "All my life I'd been told I was a failure. I finally believed it, and I became convinced that success just wasn't in the cards for me."

She reached out and placed her hand over his. He looked at her and saw understanding in her eyes. He felt a glimmer of hope. "James came to see me. He said he wanted to talk about my ideas. I laughed at him, and told him to leave me alone. He didn't. He told me he wanted to manufacture some of my inventions and proposed a partnership. He believed in me when I didn't even believe in myself. Do you have any idea how much that meant to me?"

He didn't wait for an answer, but went on, "So, we agreed to be partners. James didn't have any capital, of course, and neither did I. To raise the money, I sold the patents on many of my inventions, except the train, of course, and the toys you saw in my flat that day. Then I came to London. You know the rest."

She started to speak, but he pulled his hand from hers and lifted it to stop her. He wanted to finish this, he had to finish it. "At first I didn't see the connection. But when our suppliers started demanding cash on delivery, I began to see what was happening. It was too much of a coincidence that a man should face the exact same difficulties twice."

"What are you saying?"

"It's Adrian, Mara. I think he was responsible for what happened to me before. Suppliers demanding cash up front, delayed shipments, lost product. He's bribing suppliers to delay shipments and refuse us credit. I think he hired someone to break into the factory."

"What? But why?"

"To make things difficult. To delay us. To prevent us from filling orders by Christmas. He can't stand the thought that I might succeed."

"Because we're a competitor?"

"No. Because I'm his brother."

"He hates you that much?"

"Oh, yes." He paused, not knowing how to explain. How could he make her understand what life with a brother like Adrian had been like? "My brother and I never rubbed along very well. He was always a bully, and when we were boys one of his favorite pastimes was tormenting me."

He looked up at her. "He did it because I let him. As a boy, I never had the courage to stand up to him. Rather than fight, I would walk away. If I received a toy for Christmas, and he wanted it, he took it. Because I let him. When we were in school, he'd destroy my textbooks. Pour ink on my papers. That sort of thing. Because I let him."

"We have to tell the police."

"I've already spoken to Finch. I don't have any evidence, but I've asked him to have the matter investigated, hoping he can find some sort of proof that Adrian is behind what's been happening here."

"But if you don't have evidence, what makes you think your brother is responsible?"

"I just know it. Call it instinct." In spite of everything, her skeptical expression made him want to smile.

"Oh, God." She bent her head and buried her face in her hands. "What shall we do?"

"Carry on. And succeed in spite of him."

Mara opened her mouth to protest, but he forestalled her. "Mara, listen to me. If Finch can find proof of what Adrian's been doing, we can bring charges against him. In the meantime, we have to put our trains in stores. Once the trains start selling, we'll have enough revenue that delays and vandalism won't cripple us. Finch is bound to find something linking Adrian to what's been happening to us eventually. My brother can't cover his tracks forever. We just have to hang on until then. We have to fight."

"No." She jumped to her feet, and he knew what she intended to say. "We can stop."

This was the moment he had known would come, the moment he dreaded. Nathaniel lifted his gaze to hers and saw the shadows in her eyes. "I can't," he said.

"Yes, we can." She turned away and began to pace back and forth across the room. "We haven't spent all the money. We can go back to making dynamos and generators again. We can repay part of the loan to Joslyn Brothers right now, and make arrangements to repay the rest over the next few months."

He listened to her suggestions, heard the desperation creep into her voice as she paced, and he wanted to give in. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and agree to whatever she asked of him. But slowly, he shook his head. "And let him win? No."

She stopped pacing to look over at him. "Nathaniel, your brother is a viscount. He's influential. He's wealthy and powerful. Even if Finch found evidence, what if it isn't enough? We can't fight him. We might make it through Christmas, or even the first year. But eventually, he'll destroy you." Her voice rose in panic. "He'll destroy both of us. We have to stop now."

"Don't you understand?" He rose to his feet, wishing he could make her see that he couldn't do what she wanted. "I've walked away every time Adrian has tried to intimidate me. I've let him win, I've let him steal away every hope and every dream I ever had. I will not do it again. If I fight him, he'll back down just like any other bully."

"You can't be certain of that. What if he doesn't? It

isn't just your own livelihood you're trifling with. It's mine, and that of all the other people who work here."

"And what would have happened to the livelihoods of all these people if I hadn't come along?"

"Nathaniel, please don't do this. I know how much making trains means to you, but—"

"No." He cut her off in midsentence. She might know, but she could not understand. This wasn't just about trains, this was about his life, his future. If he gave in to her fear, if he let Adrian win, he would face the same battle again and again for the rest of his life. If it wasn't trains, it would be something else. He could build dynamos, or make liver pills, or explore Africa, and it wouldn't matter. If it looked like he would succeed, Adrian would try to stop him. "I will not let my brother do this to me," he said stubbornly, walking toward her. "I cannot."

He walked past her, unable to look at her and see the fear in her eyes as she asked him to give up the only thing he had ever wanted.

But she followed him, walking over to where he stood and put a hand on his arm. "You told me you loved me."

Don't
, he thought.
Don't make me choose
.

"Was it just words, Nathaniel?" she asked, her soft voice cutting through him like a knife. "Or did you mean it?"

The future he'd envisioned for them passed vividly across his mind, morning tea and lively debate, soft kisses and nights of lovemaking, waltzing with Mara, flying kites with her, watching her pull on her stockings. "I meant it," he finally said.

"Then stop this now. Give it up."

He closed his eyes, and he heard her play her last card.

"Do it for me."

The idyllic picture shattered like a breaking pane of glass. He opened his eyes and turned to face her. "I can't."

"Yes, you can," she whispered raggedly, dropping her hand to her side.

He shook his head, watching her shoulders droop. "No. He'll try what he tried before, but this time it won’t work. I'll circumvent him every way I can, but I won't give up. I intend to fight like hell."

"With what?" she asked. "For how long?"

He didn't reply, and she turned away with a sound of frustration. Then she suddenly turned back to look up at him again. "You said you first began to see that your brother was responsible yesterday?"

He nodded and watched the icy mask steal over her features. When she spoke again, her voice chilled him. "You knew about this before you...before we...oh, God."

He knew what she meant. "I intended to tell you, but with the party last night, I didn't have the chance," he said, knowing it sounded like the poor excuse it was. "I was afraid of this," he confessed, reaching for her with a sudden desperation. "I intended to tell you what I suspected when I returned yesterday, but I knew you would look at me just the way you're looking at me now. I kept putting it off all evening, hoping for the right time, hoping to find the right way." His words tumbled out in a rush, trying to stop the inevitable condemnation. It was too late. "Mara, I love you."

"Words again." She pulled back, out of his hold. "You truly love me? Then give this up."

He shut his ears to the pain in her voice. All he could feel was his own. "What about you?" he countered. "You know how important this is to me. You wouldn't ask me to give it up, you'd stand by me and help me find a solution if you truly loved me."

"It isn't the same thing."

He folded his arms across his chest. "Yes, it is."

"No, it isn't." Her eyes were cold, so cold, like ice on a millpond. "I never said I loved you."

He sucked in his breath as if she'd punched him in the gut, but it was his heart that felt the pain. Her words hung between them, a wall he could not break down. "No, you never did. I suppose you never will."

He tore his gaze from hers and walked away. "We are not stopping," he said, striding for the stairs to the roof. "We are making trains, I'm moving in here, and we will not discuss it again."

"Don't I have any say in this?" she demanded. "Partners, remember?"

He halted with one foot on the stair and squared his shoulders, but he didn't look at her. "Fifty-one percent versus forty-nine. Remember?"

"I remember."

He forced himself not to listen to the bitterness in her voice. "It's late. You'd better go home."

He started up the stairs, but her voice stopped him again. "Nathaniel?"

He gritted his teeth. "What?"

When she didn't answer, he glanced back at her.

“Don't—" She broke off and ducked her head, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Don’t you intend to walk me home?"