All About Seduction(6)

“You think you can do better?” sneered Martha.

“He wants the Broadhurst house. He’s always staring at it,” said his brother David.

How could he not look at the mansion when it was visible from every corner of the village? Although nearby, the towering pompous reminder of the Broadhurst wealth was far enough removed from the laborer’s houses so as to not sully its white stone facade.

Sighing, Jack fed the baby another bite. He didn’t want the Broadhurst house specifically, but one like it with a woman like Mrs. Broadhurst to welcome him home.

“You’ll never have a house half that big,” said Martha.

“We’ll see,” said Jack. Hell, if he had a house half that big, Martha and his father would be first in line to move in with him.

“This is a fine house,” objected his father. “David, bring me the bottle. My back is killing me.”

David brought over the gin bottle, and his father took a healthy swig. Jack fought the boil of anger. No milk for the babies, but there was gin for his father’s back pain. Jack rubbed his forehead. He no longer knew if the pain was an excuse for the gin or the gin was an excuse for the pain. What he did know was that if his father couldn’t put his family’s needs above his own, then he shouldn’t have to either.

“What is wrong with you, Jack? Can’t you see we need you around here?” demanded Martha.

Jack knew the strain of a rough pregnancy, and the fear that everything would fall apart made her lash out. After having walked over fifteen miles yesterday to make it home, he too was tired and irritable, and he couldn’t miss another day of work to rest.

Holding the baby around his waist, Jack stood. “I’m not your husband. He is.” He pointed to his father. “And you two should give having baby after baby a rest.”

He wanted to call the words back as soon as they left his mouth.

“What makes you think you’re any better than the rest of us?” hissed Martha.

“I’m not better than you. I just want a better life.” And he’d put it off for far too long, but now was determined to get the hell out of this mill town before he was trapped here forever.





Chapter 2



In spite of Caroline’s protests, the hunting party was due to arrive later in the day. Her brother had ridden in late the night before, but she hadn’t spoken to him. His collusion in this base plan of Mr. Broadhurst’s robbed her of any joy she might have taken in the rare treat of seeing one of her family.

After another night spent tossing and turning while the hope she fought so hard to suppress kept whispering, You could have a baby to love, she had gone into the mill office instead of waiting for Robert to rise.

Mr. Broadhurst and Robert could welcome their “guests.” She had at least had the satisfaction of telling Mr. Broadhurst that he must be present when the members of the party arrived and would have to leave the running of the mill to her. After all, for a purported hunting party and a gathering of gentlemen, a host was expected, not so much a hostess. But in his absence, she would show him she could run the mill as well or better than him.

She spread out on her desk the shipping manifests. Making neat notes, she determined exactly how much cotton Mr. Broadhurst had bought this season. Taking over vital decisions, such as the purchase arrangements for next year, would show her husband she was more than capable. She would convince him to leave the mill to her care, son or no son.

The door opened and her brother swept into the office, bringing the scent of horseflesh and autumn air with him. He strode across the floor, his boots clomping heavily against the bare wood.

The clerks all stopped in the midst of their endeavors. Robert had never been in the mill before. He scarcely looked at his surroundings as his gaze fastened on her. She rose to greet him.

“Caro, there you are. Your housekeeper said I would find you here, but I scarcely could credit it. You must come back to the house before the others arrive.” He stopped in front of her, caught her forearms and bent to brush his muttonchop whiskers against her cheek.

She bit back her retort that someone must run the mill while he and her husband spun useless schemes. Instead she greeted him civilly, “Hello, my lord. Allow me to introduce you to the office staff.” She turned to the others in the large room filled with desks piled with ledgers and papers. “This is Mr. Smythe, our shipping clerk . . . my brother, Lord Nesham, and—”

“Hello everyone,” Robert interrupted, and briskly nodded to the occupants of the room. Returning his attention to Caroline, he searched her face. “We need to talk. I have spent the morning closeted with Broadhurst.” He looked around the open room. “Is there no private office?”