concerned by what I discovered.”
“Are you now.” It wasn’t a question.
“Indeed. You are in rather difficult financial straits, which undoubtedly will grow worse if the cattle markets collapse this spring, as many expect.”
“I hardly think my finances are your concern, Randolf,” Sloan said softly, keeping his anger tightly leashed.
“You plan to marry the woman I love. Therefore I’m making it my business. You can ill-afford to lose such a sum— But I did not come to quarrel with you. I am here to put a proposition before you.”
“I’m listening.”
“As I understand it, your prospective union with Miss Ashford is but a marriage of convenience. I propose to make it more convenient for you to terminate the arrangement than to execute it.”
Sloan waited in silence for him to continue.
“I am a very wealthy man, Mr. McCord. What would it take to persuade you to return to Colorado alone? Without holding the ceremony? Would a hundred thousand dollars be sufficient?”
Sloan raised an eyebrow. “Would you perhaps be offering me a
bribe?”
“I prefer to think of it as an investment. We are both rivals for Miss Ashford’s hand. And I do not like to lose.”
His mouth curled in genuine amusement. “You really expect me to sneak out of town and leave my bride waiting at the altar?”
“I can make your apologies to Miss Ashford. She need only know that you changed your mind.”
For an instant, Sloan even considered the proposition. Reneging on the marriage would solve his immediate problems. He could pay back the bank, and he wouldn’t be shackled to a tea-and-china duchess for life. There was no denying Heather Ashford was the wrong wife for him.
But then he remembered the proud lift of her chin, the defiant flash of her golden eyes, and he shook his head. “I can see why she was disinclined to marry you if you throw your weight around with her like this,” he said, amused. “Tell me, Randolf, did you try to buy her, too?”
The baron’s jaw tightened. “I should think carefully before you refuse me, Mr. McCord.”
“I don’t need to think about it. You can keep your money. I’ve given my word. Where I come from, that means something.”
The baron took a deep breath. “My motives are not merely selfish. I can offer her the life she deserves. Tell me, Mr. McCord, can you say the same?”
Sloan shrugged. “I can offer her the life she
wants.
That should be enough. It’s her choice to make, and I think she’s made it.”
Randolf’s dark eyes smoldered with fury at being thwarted, and Sloan knew he’d made an enemy of the man.
“I give you fair warning,” the baron said softly. “I intend to follow your affairs closely. You had best take exquisite care of her, or you will have me to answer to.”
Sloan wisely kept silent.
Randolf rose to his feet. “Don’t bother to exert yourself,” he remarked. “I can show myself out.”
With the air of a man struggling to contain his anger, he turned and let himself from the room. The door shut quietly behind him.
Sloan muttered an oath, then ran a hand roughly through his hair. He had sealed his fate with his refusal. He would have to marry Duchess Ashford now. He was not about to leave her to the likes of Evan Randolf.
But now at least he could understand her determination to hold him to their bargain. Hell, he could almost sympathize with her.
She was so eager to be free of Randolf, she was willing to marry a stranger who didn’t want her.
Her wedding was not likely to make the society columns, Heather reflected somberly as she took her place beside the groom. The event was too small, too quiet and informal to merit attention.
It was to be a brief ceremony, with only a minister and her closest friends in attendance. Heather was glad for the simplicity, not certain she could bear the turmoil of a large crowd. Outwardly, she knew, she appeared calm and controlled, yet her heart hammered as if she’d run a quarter-mile race
“Are you now.” It wasn’t a question.
“Indeed. You are in rather difficult financial straits, which undoubtedly will grow worse if the cattle markets collapse this spring, as many expect.”
“I hardly think my finances are your concern, Randolf,” Sloan said softly, keeping his anger tightly leashed.
“You plan to marry the woman I love. Therefore I’m making it my business. You can ill-afford to lose such a sum— But I did not come to quarrel with you. I am here to put a proposition before you.”
“I’m listening.”
“As I understand it, your prospective union with Miss Ashford is but a marriage of convenience. I propose to make it more convenient for you to terminate the arrangement than to execute it.”
Sloan waited in silence for him to continue.
“I am a very wealthy man, Mr. McCord. What would it take to persuade you to return to Colorado alone? Without holding the ceremony? Would a hundred thousand dollars be sufficient?”
Sloan raised an eyebrow. “Would you perhaps be offering me a
bribe?”
“I prefer to think of it as an investment. We are both rivals for Miss Ashford’s hand. And I do not like to lose.”
His mouth curled in genuine amusement. “You really expect me to sneak out of town and leave my bride waiting at the altar?”
“I can make your apologies to Miss Ashford. She need only know that you changed your mind.”
For an instant, Sloan even considered the proposition. Reneging on the marriage would solve his immediate problems. He could pay back the bank, and he wouldn’t be shackled to a tea-and-china duchess for life. There was no denying Heather Ashford was the wrong wife for him.
But then he remembered the proud lift of her chin, the defiant flash of her golden eyes, and he shook his head. “I can see why she was disinclined to marry you if you throw your weight around with her like this,” he said, amused. “Tell me, Randolf, did you try to buy her, too?”
The baron’s jaw tightened. “I should think carefully before you refuse me, Mr. McCord.”
“I don’t need to think about it. You can keep your money. I’ve given my word. Where I come from, that means something.”
The baron took a deep breath. “My motives are not merely selfish. I can offer her the life she deserves. Tell me, Mr. McCord, can you say the same?”
Sloan shrugged. “I can offer her the life she
wants.
That should be enough. It’s her choice to make, and I think she’s made it.”
Randolf’s dark eyes smoldered with fury at being thwarted, and Sloan knew he’d made an enemy of the man.
“I give you fair warning,” the baron said softly. “I intend to follow your affairs closely. You had best take exquisite care of her, or you will have me to answer to.”
Sloan wisely kept silent.
Randolf rose to his feet. “Don’t bother to exert yourself,” he remarked. “I can show myself out.”
With the air of a man struggling to contain his anger, he turned and let himself from the room. The door shut quietly behind him.
Sloan muttered an oath, then ran a hand roughly through his hair. He had sealed his fate with his refusal. He would have to marry Duchess Ashford now. He was not about to leave her to the likes of Evan Randolf.
But now at least he could understand her determination to hold him to their bargain. Hell, he could almost sympathize with her.
She was so eager to be free of Randolf, she was willing to marry a stranger who didn’t want her.
Her wedding was not likely to make the society columns, Heather reflected somberly as she took her place beside the groom. The event was too small, too quiet and informal to merit attention.
It was to be a brief ceremony, with only a minister and her closest friends in attendance. Heather was glad for the simplicity, not certain she could bear the turmoil of a large crowd. Outwardly, she knew, she appeared calm and controlled, yet her heart hammered as if she’d run a quarter-mile race
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