Georgie Lee - Mr Fairclough's Inherited Bride

‘I’m dying, Silas.’

The same tightening of his stomach that’d almost made him retch ten years ago when his mother had stepped out of his father’s sickroom to hand Silas his father’s signet ring hovered about him like the heat from the fire. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘I consulted a number of medical men while I was in Philadelphia, the best in the country. They confirmed what I’ve suspect for some time.’

‘That can’t be.’ Silas hadn’t missed the coughing or the gradual thinning of Richard’s body over the last year, but he’d ignored it and everything it meant, hoping it wasn’t true, willing it to not be true. ‘There must be some treatment here or in Europe. They’re more advanced there than most of the quacks here who still think bleeding is the cure for everything.’

‘No, Silas, you and I can struggle and strive against a great many things, but not this.’ Richard sank into his chair, his slender body almost engulfed by the rich leather. ‘I only regret that I won’t be able to see the transcontinental railroad you envision. You’re a dreamer, with a knack for making them come true, and I’m proud of you for it and for everything you’ve done since you first showed up on my doorstep with a letter of introduction from Jasper King and little more than a worn suit and a couple of British pounds. I took a chance that you were worthy of Jasper’s trust and mine, and you’ve proven me right at every turn. You’ve gone from someone with nothing to part-owner of a railroad with a tidy income of your own that will only grow a great deal larger after tonight.’

‘Don’t curse us. All we have are their promises. We don’t have their money yet or the tracks laid or the patent to the English steam engine.’ Silas took a deep pull of brandy. Apparently, they didn’t have a future together in the venture either. No, many people lived with consumption for years, there was no reason to think Richard couldn’t, too.

‘I don’t mean the railroad. I have no children, no wife, my life spent married to my business and increasing my fortune. There are days when I think that was a mistake, until I see you.’ He reached over and laid a fatherly hand on Silas’s arm. ‘You’re like a son to me, Silas, I don’t want to see the same loneliness befall you.’

‘It won’t. In time, I’ll marry.’ Matrimony was not uppermost in his mind tonight, or any other night as of late.

‘I also don’t want to have what I’ve built up fall to pieces. I’m leaving you not only my share of the railway, but almost all of my estate.’

‘I don’t want it.’

Or deserve it.

He didn’t wish to make his fortune by inheriting it from his mentor.

‘I still insist you have it, at least everything I’m not leaving to Lady Mary. She’ll get the house and a tidy financial settlement. It would mean the world to me if you’d look after her when I’m gone. She may not be related to me by blood, but she did a great deal for my sister in her last years and she’s brought me immense comfort over these past three months. I want to leave her with a secure future so she never has to want or worry about anything.’

‘Of course I’ll make sure she and her investments are well protected.’ Silas watched the flames in the grate leap and fall as they consumed the log. He understood the importance of protecting those he cared about. The cheques he regularly sent home to England supported his mother and sisters so that the donations to the Fairclough Foundation could continue to help the women in need. He threw back the rest of the brandy, the sting to his throat making his eyes water. Yes, he took care of his family with money, but little else. What else could they expect of him? He’d never wanted to be part of the Foundation, and if he hadn’t come here to work with Richard there wouldn’t be money to send home. It was the same circular thinking that plagued him every time he thought about how far away he was from his loved ones. He refilled his empty glass. Tonight, he had no patience for those old regrets.

‘But of course, money isn’t everything,’ Richard mused.

‘No, it isn’t.’ Silas set his drink on the table, all too familiar with that tone. The promise of a business proposal crackled in the air like the sap from the logs in the fire. What the devil could his friend be about to propose at a time like this?

‘There are other, less tangible things to consider, such as standing, influence, a gentleman giving off the right sort of air when negotiating business or society, as you witnessed tonight.’

‘I don’t exactly smell of the fish market.’

‘But you need that little something extra to raise everyone’s opinion of you even higher.’

‘Is it that low?’ Silas laughed. He occasionally enjoyed a good game of cards at the clubs or a few other carnal pleasures when the need arose, but he’d never been in debt, got drunk or landed a woman, respectable or not, in any difficulty. He’d seen what’d happened to those unfortunate women enough times growing up at the Fairclough Foundation to ensure no woman suffered because of his attention or her situation in life. ‘Given the way the mothers throw their daughters at me at the balls, I thought I was rather admired by Baltimore society.’

‘In every endeavour there is always room for improvement.’ Richard opened the small humidor on the table beside him and held it out to Silas. Silas selected a cigar from the box. He didn’t smoke often, but something in Richard’s manner told him this occasion called for it or a stiffer drink. Richard took a cigar from the humidor and set the box back on the table. He withdrew the silver clipper on the chain from his waistcoat pocket, snipped off the end and set it between his lips. He leaned forward, accepting a light from Silas who held out a small stick from the fire. Richard inhaled deeply as he sat back before taking the cigar out of his mouth and exhaling with a wincing cough that saddened Silas. ‘You need the kind of improved opinion that an impressive and respectable marriage confers on a man.’

Silas choked on the smoke and the unexpected suggestion. ‘The kind of respectability you never sought for yourself.’

‘I almost did once, many years ago when I lived in Mobile. I was in the cotton business back then and on my way to making my first real fortune. We were in love, but yellow fever stole her from me. I never found another like her after that.’

It was the first time Silas had ever heard Richard speak with such affection about a woman who wasn’t his now-departed sister in England. It tightened his chest to realise Richard might be reunited with both women far too soon. ‘Then what’s turned your thoughts to matrimony?’

‘Your future and Lady Mary’s.’ He wheezed as he exhaled smoke. ‘A well-settled woman isn’t a single one at the mercy of every fortune hunter in the States, but a married one with a home and family, one who can successfully host dinners and help further your interests because they are her own.’

Silas took a deep drag off the cigar. He’d never in all their time together ever questioned Richard’s reasoning for anything. He hated to make an exception this far into the game. ‘I give you my word that I’ll make sure she’s well protected from fortune hunters and that she contracts a good marriage.’

Richard threw back his head and laughed, the cheerful sound weighted down by the rattle marring it. ‘Shame on me for not being more direct.’

‘You’re being very direct.’ A little bit too much for Silas’s liking. He’d always imagined himself settling down some day, but not quite this soon and not with a near stranger. Lady Mary was a pleasant enough woman, but he knew almost nothing about her. He wasn’t one to pry into other people’s affairs, at least those not connected to business that could benefit him in negotiations. ‘But the lady and I aren’t well acquainted.’