Chapter Thirty-One
Leyton Barrett left the bank, a fat envelope in his coat pocket. Thompson had refused to lend him the full amount he had asked for. Instead, the banker had offered him half. Barrett shook his head. He shouldn’t blame Thompson for putting business ahead of friendship. But he did.
Well, there was no help for it. He had little hope Bloodworth would accept a partial payment, but he had to try.
When he reached his carriage, Leyton gave the driver their destination then climbed into the conveyance. He had a few things he could sell, though his payment would still fall short. For Bryony’s sake, he hoped that he and Bloodworth could come to a mutual agreement.
The carriage pulled into the entrance of the massive Bloodworth estate all too soon. Taking a deep breath, Leyton exited the vehicle and strode up to the iron-strapped, double front doors and rang the bell.
A butler opened the door immediately.
“I would like to see Lord Bloodworth.”
“Is he expecting you?”
“No. But I think he’ll see me. Tell him Leyton Barrett is here.”
“Very good, sir. Please, come in.”
Leyton followed the butler into the lavish front parlor.
“Please be seated,” the butler said and, with a bow, withdrew.
Barrett glanced at his surroundings as he paced the floor.
The room was filled with expensive furniture and imported carpets, draperies, and exquisite paintings from Italy and the Orient.
He shook his head as he paused in front of the elegant white marble fireplace.
He had no desire to see his daughter marry a vampire, but when Bloodworth entered the room, Barrett suddenly realized Stefan might be the lesser of two evils.
When he had agreed to give his daughter to Bloodworth, he hadn’t considered anything other than the fact that Bloodworth would be able to provide Bryony with a luxurious home and a life of ease.
As Lady Bloodworth, she would want for nothing—save a husband who loved her.
“Barrett, please, sit down,” Bloodworth said, lowering his bulk into a sturdy chair. “What brings you here?”
Leyton cleared his throat. “I’ve come to repay my debt,” he said. “At least half of it.”
Bloodworth lifted one aristocratic brow. “Half?”
“I’ll repay the rest in six months.”
Bloodworth shook his head. “All or nothing, Barrett. That was our agreement.”
“I know, but…” Leyton took a deep breath. “I’m begging you to reconsider. I’m also asking you to annul your marriage to Bryony.”
Bloodworth propped his elbows on the arms of the chair and clasped his hands. “Why would I do that?”
“She’s in love with someone else.”
Bloodworth shrugged. “I’m not looking for love, merely a wife to give me an heir.”
“There are any number of available women,” Barrett said. “Why stay wed to one who loves another?”
“The marriage stands,” Bloodworth said flatly. “Or I will have you thrown into debtor’s prison for failure to meet your commitment. I will not accept a partial payment. I will not accept a late payment. The loan was, in fact, due in full yesterday.”
“Yesterday!” Leyton shook his head. “That can’t be!” Merciful heavens, had he misread the due date? Maida had been urging him to get spectacles for months. Perhaps he should have listened.
“I will consider the note paid in full when your daughter fulfills her wedding vows,” Bloodworth declared. And so saying, he gained his feet and left the room.
Barrett stared after him. All was lost. Either Bryony went through with the formal wedding and consummated the marriage or he would go to prison. His family would be homeless, disgraced. He stared into the cold hearth, overcome with shame. He had failed Bryony. He had failed his family.
Tomorrow he would go to the bank and return the money he had borrowed. It was of no use to him now. He thought briefly of the pistol he kept in his office at home then swore under his breath. He would not take the coward’s way out and bring further shame to his family.
With a heavy heart, he made his way home to tell his daughter he had failed.
Bryony stared at the floor as her father told her the bad news. When she said nothing, he begged for her forgiveness. And when she still said nothing, he left the room, his head down, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
Bryony sat there for a long time, feeling numb. She had tried to contact Stefan several times, but to no avail. He had always known what she was thinking. Surely he knew she loved him, wanted him. Why wasn’t he answering?
She told herself it wouldn’t be so bad to be Lady Bloodworth.
She would live in a house even more opulent than the one she lived in now.
Anything she wanted could be hers. All the latest styles from Paris.
The best paints and canvases money could buy, all the books she could read.
Imported chocolates. Everything but Stefan.
And once she presented Bloodworth with a male heir, he would probably have little use for her.
She had no other options. Her father had seen to that.
She couldn’t let her father go to prison.
She had wed Bloodworth in a private ceremony of her own free will.
She had no legal grounds for an annulment.
Bloodworth would never agree to a divorce.
It took her a moment to realize she was crying silent tears.
When she had no tears left, she dried her eyes and straightened her spine.
The time for weeping was past. She had been counting on Stefan to repay her father’s loan, but she hadn’t been able to contact him.
She had been so certain that Stefan loved her and that, even if he didn’t, he would still agree to lend her father the money he needed.
Had she been wrong? For the first time, she wondered if something had happened to him.
Feeling like Joan of Arc going to face the flames, Bryony squared her shoulders and steeled herself to meet her fate.