The Lady Always Wins by Courtney Milan

he’ll call a special meeting of the shareholders. It’s only a matter of time until he stops work altogether. I have liens on everything—my home, my business, even my expectations from my father. All of my debts are about to come crashing down on my head. I’ll have to sell my damned cuff links just to make the final payroll. When everything has settled, I’ll be destitute.”
    She didn’t know how to describe the emotion that filled her—hard and impossibly prickly. She hadn’t known the extent of his debts. And…he’d believed that he had nothing, and he hadn’t told her?
    She was still reeling from this when he spoke again. “That’s why I had to marry you today,” he said flatly. “Not tomorrow or next week. Because if I’d waited even twenty-four hours, the news would have become public. And you wouldn’t have married me.”
    She’d buried all her worries next to her heart for so long that they’d become second nature to her. This time, she wasn’t going to let them fester. She didn’t try to hold back how upset she was, didn’t try to smooth it into calm politeness. “You knew I had a horror of poverty, and you were going to trick me into it?”
    “Yes.”
    “That’s awful.” She was crying, now. She didn’t care if he saw it—she wanted him to know, this time, how furious she was.
    “Oh, Ginny.” His thumb traced the tear down her cheek. His hands were still warm.
    She still loved him. She could have forgiven recklessness on his part. But to deliberately imply an untruth about the one thing that he knew would matter to her? He’d intended to put her back in the hell she’d gone through before—only this time, he would have bound her into it with matrimony, swallowing any chance of escape. She loved him, but right now her love seemed a painful thing.
    “I’ve bungled this so badly,” he said. “God. I’ve made a mess from the start. I wish I’d—I wish I’d done
anything
except hurt you.”
    But he had. He’d hurt her seven years ago, when he’d not listened to her protests. And he’d hurt her again now.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
    He’d hurt her, but still he held her through her tears. He held her until her sobs faded to sniffles.
    “I’ve made one fortune,” he finally said. “I can make another.”
    A new wave of anger hit her, and Ginny looked up. “You still think this is about nothing more than the money? I was crying because my best friend in the entire world lied to me and admitted that he was planning to defraud me. I was crying because I am afraid that I’ve found you only to lose you again. It’s not just about the money. It’s about the fact that you think you can push me into doing whatever it is that you want by any means necessary.”
    “It has to be about the money!” he protested. “I can figure out how to make money. I can’t figure out how to make this right.”
    She took that in silence, waiting for him to hear what he’d said.
    It took only a few heartbeats for his cheeks to grow pale. Then she spoke. “You can’t tell me I don’t have a problem simply because you can’t figure out how to solve it.”
    “I know. I know.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I know it all. And I have to go back to London this morning. My things are all at the inn.” He let out a shaky laugh. “I have a fortune to lose on the morrow. I can’t be late. But I can’t leave you like this.”
    “Yes,” Ginny said stiffly, “you can.”
    He winced, and then stood on shaky legs and took two steps toward the door.
    She sniffed. “Put on trousers before you go.”
    He stopped, turned, and crossed the room to where his clothing lay in a heap and shook out his shirt. He didn’t say anything as he dressed, but his jaw was squaring once more, with that familiar determination. When he’d pulled his coat on, he turned to her.
    “So this is what I have to do. Obtain a massive fortune. Figure out how to stop being such a damned