what the situation is."
She could have killed Finch for taking away any power she might have had to bargain, but she decided to try anyway. She turned back to Mr. Chase and took a deep breath. "Forty-nine."
She watched his expression harden into stubborn lines. For the first time, she wondered if there might not be a shrewd intelligence behind those baby blue eyes. When he spoke, his voice was low and quietly firm. "If I'm to bail this company out of the mess it's in with five thousand pounds of my money, I must have the controlling interest."
"Mess?" The word caused her spine to stiffen.
"Mess, Mrs. Elliot." He slanted a look at her from beneath his lashes, a look that dared her to contradict. "Fifty-one percent."
Her lips pressed together, and there was a long moment of silence as their gazes locked in combat. All her instincts told her this man had absolutely no business sense, that he was, in fact, crazy. But she knew she had no options, and the man sitting across from her knew it, too.
Mr. Finch gave a slight cough, breaking the silence. "I took the liberty of drawing up a partnership agreement." He reached into the dispatch case beside him and pulled out a document.
Mara looked from one man to the other, feeling as if she had been outmanned, outgunned, and definitely outmaneuvered. Here was a way to save the company, but it was hardly the ideal solution. She wanted to know more.
"Why would you want to buy only fifty-one percent?" she asked. "If you know about the foreclosure, you must also know that the bank will sell the company. You could probably buy the whole lot for not much more than what you're intending to pay now."
"True." He leaned back and stretched out his long legs, casually putting his feet on the table as if it were a
footstool. "But it seems only right and just that you be a part of all this. James and I had an agreement, and although he is dead, I owe him a debt of gratitude."
"I don't want anyone's gratitude, sir."
He held up a hand to forestall any further protests from her. "There is more to it than that. I need you, Mrs. Elliot. Mr. Finch informs me that you are quite experienced in financial matters. I need that sort of expertise."
Mara stared at him skeptically for a moment. Every other potential investor she'd spoken with held the opposite point of view, and she found it hard to believe that he was any different. But she could see no trace of deception in the eyes that gazed back at her.
"What is your decision?"
Mara bit her lip, hating the idea of giving up control. She didn't want anyone else to be in charge. Especially him. Indecision gnawed at her.
He was a very odd man.
She had no choice.
He was a poetic fool.
She had no choice.
Her mind spun in desperate circles, looking for any other solution, but she could think of none. Owning forty-nine percent of a company was better than losing it all, she supposed. She sighed, feeling a headache coming on as she gave in to the inevitable. "Where do I sign?"
Mr. Finch handed her the document. As she read it carefully, the solicitor pulled a bottle of ink and a pen from the case and placed them on the table before her. She signed the agreement in her neat, copperplate handwriting beside Mr. Chase's scrawling, unreadable signature, and her insides twisted with dread. She was handing over control of Elliot's to a man she knew nothing about, a man who was very odd, to say the least. The company was safe from the bank, but Mara had the feeling it was in just as much danger from the man seated across from her.
She set the pen on the table, blew on the document to dry the ink, and handed the paper back to Mr. Finch. "What happens now?" she asked.
Mr. Chase reached for the bank book that lay on the table and opened it. "Tomorrow, I'll want to take a complete tour of the factory," he said, picking up the pen. "What is the exact balance owed to Joslyn Brothers?"
"Five thousand twenty five pounds, twelve shillings, and ten pence," she
She could have killed Finch for taking away any power she might have had to bargain, but she decided to try anyway. She turned back to Mr. Chase and took a deep breath. "Forty-nine."
She watched his expression harden into stubborn lines. For the first time, she wondered if there might not be a shrewd intelligence behind those baby blue eyes. When he spoke, his voice was low and quietly firm. "If I'm to bail this company out of the mess it's in with five thousand pounds of my money, I must have the controlling interest."
"Mess?" The word caused her spine to stiffen.
"Mess, Mrs. Elliot." He slanted a look at her from beneath his lashes, a look that dared her to contradict. "Fifty-one percent."
Her lips pressed together, and there was a long moment of silence as their gazes locked in combat. All her instincts told her this man had absolutely no business sense, that he was, in fact, crazy. But she knew she had no options, and the man sitting across from her knew it, too.
Mr. Finch gave a slight cough, breaking the silence. "I took the liberty of drawing up a partnership agreement." He reached into the dispatch case beside him and pulled out a document.
Mara looked from one man to the other, feeling as if she had been outmanned, outgunned, and definitely outmaneuvered. Here was a way to save the company, but it was hardly the ideal solution. She wanted to know more.
"Why would you want to buy only fifty-one percent?" she asked. "If you know about the foreclosure, you must also know that the bank will sell the company. You could probably buy the whole lot for not much more than what you're intending to pay now."
"True." He leaned back and stretched out his long legs, casually putting his feet on the table as if it were a
footstool. "But it seems only right and just that you be a part of all this. James and I had an agreement, and although he is dead, I owe him a debt of gratitude."
"I don't want anyone's gratitude, sir."
He held up a hand to forestall any further protests from her. "There is more to it than that. I need you, Mrs. Elliot. Mr. Finch informs me that you are quite experienced in financial matters. I need that sort of expertise."
Mara stared at him skeptically for a moment. Every other potential investor she'd spoken with held the opposite point of view, and she found it hard to believe that he was any different. But she could see no trace of deception in the eyes that gazed back at her.
"What is your decision?"
Mara bit her lip, hating the idea of giving up control. She didn't want anyone else to be in charge. Especially him. Indecision gnawed at her.
He was a very odd man.
She had no choice.
He was a poetic fool.
She had no choice.
Her mind spun in desperate circles, looking for any other solution, but she could think of none. Owning forty-nine percent of a company was better than losing it all, she supposed. She sighed, feeling a headache coming on as she gave in to the inevitable. "Where do I sign?"
Mr. Finch handed her the document. As she read it carefully, the solicitor pulled a bottle of ink and a pen from the case and placed them on the table before her. She signed the agreement in her neat, copperplate handwriting beside Mr. Chase's scrawling, unreadable signature, and her insides twisted with dread. She was handing over control of Elliot's to a man she knew nothing about, a man who was very odd, to say the least. The company was safe from the bank, but Mara had the feeling it was in just as much danger from the man seated across from her.
She set the pen on the table, blew on the document to dry the ink, and handed the paper back to Mr. Finch. "What happens now?" she asked.
Mr. Chase reached for the bank book that lay on the table and opened it. "Tomorrow, I'll want to take a complete tour of the factory," he said, picking up the pen. "What is the exact balance owed to Joslyn Brothers?"
"Five thousand twenty five pounds, twelve shillings, and ten pence," she
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