The Bride Goes Rogue (The Fifth Avenue Rebels #3)(68)

“Good. The last thing we need is a fiancé or husband interjecting himself in our partnership.”

“What about Mr. Clarke?” Lockwood said from over Katherine’s shoulder. “Something tells me he might interject himself.”

“Why do you say that?” Katherine asked, spinning to face him. Hadn’t she discouraged the duke’s suspicions over a future between her and Preston the other night? Or did Lockwood still not believe her?

Lockwood gestured toward the office building behind them. “Doesn’t he own half this building?”

“Not any longer, no.” Katherine turned back to Eva. “My father bought the rights years ago. You needn’t worry about Mr. Clarke.”

Eva visibly relaxed at this. “That is a relief. Mr. Clarke’s reputation precedes him. I prefer to keep my projects on the right side of the law.”

You’d be ashamed of me if you knew half of what I’d done.

Preston readily admitted it, though Katherine refused to believe he would ever do anything illegal. He wasn’t a criminal. Complicated and talented with his tongue, yes, but not a criminal. He’d saved his family’s business from collapse and looked after his friends. Had even defended her honor at the art show, then stayed when her father arrived after.

She knew Preston, probably better than anyone, and deep down he was a good man—even if he wouldn’t admit it. He was deep and fascinating, intense and uncompromising. It would take layers and layers of paint to properly portray that man’s personality on canvas.

And she really needed to stop thinking about him.

Eva struck out her hand once more. “We’ll be in touch, Katherine. I look forward to working together.”

“And I with you. We are going to do great things.”

When their trio parted, Katherine decided to visit her father. Though it was late in the day, she much preferred to meet with him in his office. Then she could share the news regarding Mrs. Mansfield and leave, avoiding any personal conversations about his new relationship.

Her father’s secretary was just leaving as Katherine arrived. “Good evening, Miss Delafield. I’m afraid your father is in a meeting.”

“Oh.” Katherine toyed with the buttons on her glove. “Do you think he’ll be long? I just had something quick to tell him.”

“I couldn’t say. He’s with Mr. Clarke.”

That was unexpected. What was Preston doing here? She dropped her hands and tried to appear uninterested, though her mind was reeling. “Has Mr. Clarke been here long?”

“No, he’s just arrived.” The secretary’s nose wrinkled. “Did you need me to stay? I have theater tickets but . . .”

It was after five-thirty in the evening, so Katherine said, “No, please go. I’m happy to wait by myself.” So I may find out why Preston is here.

“Are you sure, miss? I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

“No inconvenience. Enjoy your show.”

The secretary waved and set off toward the lift, which left Katherine all alone . . . with the old speaking tube that connected to Daddy’s office. It would allow her to hear every word of Preston’s conversation with her father.



Barely able to contain his glee, Preston sat across the desk from Lloyd Delafield. The other man was carefully examining the new deed, which was faultless in Preston’s opinion. One could almost believe it was real.

He felt not an ounce of guilt over what he’d done. Whatever game Lloyd was playing, Preston would beat him at it. Every time.

Finally, Lloyd lowered the papers. “You cannot think this will hold up in court.”

“It already has. A judge signed off on it and the deed’s been filed with the buildings department. You lose.”

Lloyd removed the spectacles from his face and tossed them on the desk. “A judge you bribed, along with a fat payment to the buildings department, as well.”

Preston shrugged. They both knew how this worked. “I told you that property was mine.”

“Except it’s not. Your father sold it to me before he died.”

“I don’t believe it. As I said, I went through everything belonging to the estate. That building came to him when your joint trust dissolved, after you cut ties when he got in financial trouble. It never went to you.”

“You love to paint me as the villain.” Lloyd leaned back in his chair. “You don’t know a dashed thing about your father, do you?”

“I know he was a gambler, who almost cost my mother everything. I know you were also aware of this, which was why you dissolved the joint business and ran as far away from Henry as you could manage.” Shoving aside the painful memories, he folded his hands across his middle. “But he didn’t sell off everything. For whatever reason, he kept this piece of land.” Only Forrest’s loan had prevented Preston from needing to sell it.

Lloyd shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “Son—”

“Do not call me that.”

“Preston,” Lloyd corrected. “I know you’re jaded, but are you not even willing to entertain the possibility that I’m telling the truth? What you’ve done is illegal. And wrong.”

“I have the original deed, so please spare me your sanctimonious speech. I only righted your attempt to steal it.”