Lady Be Reckless (Duke's Daughters #2)(38)

Mr. Beechcroft smiled in reply, his brown eyes twinkling in delight. At least one of them was happy at the prospect of Edward’s marriage. “And how is it going? Did you see your Lady Olivia?”

Edward shook his head and rose, going to sit in the chair opposite. “She is not my Lady Olivia,” he said, knowing his father wouldn’t care what Edward said if he had gotten something into his head.

It was what made him a brilliant businessman, and a very irritating father—once his brain had seized on an idea, he wouldn’t rest until he saw it come to fruition. Hence the various factories that carried the Beechcroft name that had been built despite everyone telling his father his ideas were too grand, that the expenditure wouldn’t be worth the eventual minimal profits.

Those people had been wrong. It was one thing, however, when one of his father’s ideas made the Beechcroft fortune swell; it was another thing entirely when his father wanted his illegitimate son to marry a lady who would never say yes to his suit, and even if she did, her family would never say yes as well.

But to point out that there were some ladies who were far beyond Edward’s reach—regardless of how much wealth and prospects he had—would hurt his father too much. Mr. Beechcroft already felt the sting of Edward’s birth far more than Edward himself did.

“Of course she is not.” Mr. Beechcroft’s tone made it clear he didn’t believe his own words. “It was mere coincidence that you happened to rush out of the dining room the other night just after she did. And of course it didn’t mean anything that she spent most of the evening before that looking at you. Did you have something on your face, I wonder?”

Edward didn’t respond in words, but he did glare at his father. Who chuckled at seeing his son’s expression.

“I stayed up, since you asked, because I was sorting through some papers. I need to get certain business transactions done before—before . . .” And then he paused, letting his words hang there in the silence so that Edward could fill in the blanks.

Before I die.

That sharp pain expanded from Edward’s chest through his entire body, and he leaned forward in his chair, staring intently at his father’s face. “We shouldn’t stay here any longer. Your marital aspirations for me be damned. You should be in the country resting, where we can see your usual doctor. Where you are most comfortable.”

His father looked as though he was going to argue, and Edward held his hand up. “Wait. Before you say no, let’s talk about it.” He held his hand out and ticked each item off on his fingers. “One. You have trusted your own doctor for years. I know you have seen Dr. Bell—that’s his name, correct?” he said, waiting for his father’s nod, “and that Dr. Bell told you that—” he couldn’t say it, even though his father had said it already.

“That I have not long to live.”

Edward’s breath hitched. “Yes. That. The thing is, you are always saying that any business venture could benefit from having more than one opinion weighing in on it. It seems to me that your health is the most important business venture you’ve ever dealt with, and I want you to get your own doctor’s opinion before you resign yourself to—to . . .”

“Death?” his father supplied in a quiet tone.

Edward nodded, his throat tight.

Mr. Beechcroft leaned back in his chair, wincing as he did so. Because the chair was uncomfortable? Or because he was in so much pain? Edward didn’t dare to ask. But Mr. Beechcroft’s regular doctor would, and that was entirely the point.

“But if we leave London, you won’t have the opportunity to court someone named Lady Olivia,” his father said with a grin.

Sometimes Edward wished his father were less jocular.

“If we return to the country and I can see for myself that your health is being taken care of as well as I would wish, I can concentrate on finding a suitable bride,” he retorted. “You’ve often told me it’s important to focus on the business at hand. How can I focus on the business of marriage if I am thinking about you and your health? When I know for certain, I will fulfill your wish.” He didn’t say “your final wish,” but it was clear from his tone what he meant.

His father twisted his lips in thought. “Hmm. And there are some other families still in residence in the country—there are sure to be some eligible young ladies there, so you won’t waste time.” As though each young lady was interchangeable with another, as long as she came from respectable stock.

His father was certainly single-minded when it came to what he wanted. “Although I do have a preference for that Lady Olivia,” he added, confirming just how single-minded he was.

He leaned back in his chair and tilted his head in thought. “I have been thinking about your mother.” He looked over at Edward. “I know I haven’t told you much about her. It’s so hard, even now.” His eyes grew distant. “She was so kind and listened to all of my dreams. I knew we would get married, only her father—” And his lips tightened, and he shook his head.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“And I’m sorry for yours. I wish you could have met her, I wish she could see you now. You resemble her more than me. You’ve got her father’s height and she had dark curls like you do.” Mr. Beechcroft shook his head. “If only we could have married, you wouldn’t have to—”