Wicked Nights With a Lover (The Penwich School for Virtuous Girls #3)(15)

When Ash arrived at Jack’s Mayfair house, it was to find double the usual servants buzzing about. Like an army of ants, they swept, dusted, and polished everything until it gleamed. Hothouse roses, fragrant and rich in color, covered every surface. Beyond extravagant for this time of year.

Amid the cloying bouquet, the butler led him into Jack’s office, a wood-paneled circular room of deep walnut that was as familiar to him as his own bed. He’d spent countless evenings in this room, a glass of Jack’s finest brandy in his hand, discussing business, life, the politics about Town and how it all might affect their enterprises.

They were alike: both brought up from the gutters, both having tasted abuse at the cruel hands of the unforgiving and merciless London underworld. Both with an insatiable hunger to succeed, to win and prove that they were no longer gutter trash. Ash had always told himself that’s why they worked so well together, why they’d become partners.

Apparently, he’d been wrong. They weren’t alike.

Ash knew what he was, knew what drove him, and he felt not the slightest remorse or wish to change. Some men were built for domesticity and could content themselves with a simple life. A wife, home, children, church on Sundays. He wasn’t one of them. He didn’t aspire to be. Nor was he like Jack. Jack craved a place in Society, position, the final stamp of approval—and he would step on Ash to get it. That much was now clear to him.

Ash surveyed the familiar room with fresh eyes. Even though Jack could scarcely read and do little more than pen his name, books lined the walls of his office, stretching to the domed ceiling.

He settled his gaze on Jack, sitting behind his desk, his secretary beside him, assisting him as they read over some documents.

Looking up, he greeted Ash as though nothing were out of the ordinary, as if gentlemen from Society’s highest echelons were not about to descend upon this very house. “Ash. I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Is it true?” he demanded, wasting little time.

Jack didn’t even blink. He never did. Never gave an outward sign of what he was thinking. A trick Ash had learned from him. Never show the world the true you. Cling to your guard. “Is what true?”

“You have daughters. Three bloody daughters!”

Jack sighed and slid a glance to his assistant. “Give us a moment.”

Ash watched him with narrowed eyes as the secretary left the room. Jack leaned back in his leather chair as the door clicked shut. “One of the maids, I presume? Every female on my staff falls into titters at the sight of you. Is there no woman you can’t seduce?”

Ash snorted. Jack knew all about bedding women. His illegitimate offspring attested to that.

“Why are you here, Ash?” he demanded in a hard voice that told Ash he already knew.

“I want to hear the truth from you.”

Jack studied him a long moment before speaking. “I’m a father. Is it so surprising that I should want to see my daughters? I’m not a young man anymore.”

“I know you’ve gathered them all here to auction them off to some damned bluebloods.” He felt his top lip curl back from his teeth in a sneer.

“Is it so wrong to want to see my girls well arranged—”

Ash broke out in laughter. He couldn’t help himself. He knew Jack Hadley too well to believe he was a well-meaning father concerned with the welfare of his daughters.

“Come, Jack. Do you even know their names? This is about you. About getting yourself a duke for a son-in-law.”

The older man’s ruddy face burned vividly. “Of course, I know their names. I took pains to locate them, haven’t I? They’re all here …” A scowl swept his face. “Well, I believe so. The final one was to arrive today. She’s been a bit elusive. Damned inconvenient. I have a big evening planned and I need her here.”

The final one. She didn’t even merit a name. She was without an identity. And yet Jack would hand over to her, to each of them, what Ash worked so hard to build. It was intolerable.

“So you don’t deny you’ve claimed them as your heirs? That you intend to marry them off and give away all that I’ve labored to—”

“It’s not all yours though, is it?” Jack cut in.

Ash ignored the question, pressing on. “The gaming hells were scarcely hanging on when you made me partner. The mine, the factory … I had to convince you to even agree to invest—”

“But I did agree,” Jack inserted. “You couldn’t have bought the mine or factory without me. And you’ve made me a very wealthy man. So wealthy I can buy myself any son-in-law I want.”

Ash inhaled sharply. “What of me? Am I not to be considered a candidate?” The wild idea seized him, and he could not shake it loose. If marrying one of Jack’s daughters helped him secure even a slight hold on the empire he’d built, then so be it. True, he’d still have two other daughters and their dandy husbands to contend with, but he’d cope—and all the better if he was married to a direct heir. One third of Jack’s share would be his. Combined with the share he already possessed, he’d hold the greatest majority.

Jack arched a bushy brow. “You want to wed one of my daughters? You?”

The flesh near his eye ticked beneath Jack’s appraisal. Of course he didn’t want to marry one of the chits. He didn’t want to marry anyone—much less some female he’d never clapped eyes on before. But in that moment he did want to know that this man who had saved him from starvation and abuse—this man who was the closest thing he would ever have to a father—thought he was good enough.