“Unless you want me to blacklist you from every business happening in all of London, you’ll get in your carriage and return home right now. Then you’ll come to my office first thing in the morning where we will d
iscuss this like gentlemen.”
Pennington let out a snarl but gave a tiny nod of assent. Bash eased back and the man pushed past him to climb into his carriage. “Tomorrow at ten,” he called out as he snapped open the door and climbed in.
Once the carriage had disappeared down the street, he turned back to the door, raising his hand to knock. But he didn’t get the chance.
The door flew open and Isabella launched herself into his arms.
The second her body crashed into his, he knew what he was going to do. “Get your aunt up out of bed. You’re all coming with me.”
“What?” Isabella asked, pulling her face back. “Going where?”
“To my home,” he answered. “Where I know you’ll be safe.”
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but that just isn’t proper.” Eliza said from the doorway, but she didn’t sound scandalized. Not even a little.
“You’ve got no other place to go, am I correct?” he asked, not bothering to let Isabella go. She felt too good in his arms.
Eliza gave him a knowing smile. “It would be far more proper if there was a promise.”
For just a second, he didn’t understand and then he realized. Eliza was angling for a match between him and Isabella.
“Eliza!” Isabella stepped away from him to spin toward her sister.
He missed her body next to his. “That’s a conversation for the morning. After the conversation where I convince your uncle to sell your house to me.” He gave Eliza a hard stare. She didn’t know what she asked. “If we could just face one complication at a time.”
Eliza crossed her arms staring right back. “If only there was a solution that solved all our problems.”
His mouth pinched into a hard line. “Of course, marrying a duke would save you from all your problems. That’s why every girl wants such a match.” He was tired and worried, and he didn’t want to have to explain why he couldn’t marry Isabella. Even if he wanted to. “But I can’t save every girl in England with a marriage proposal.”
He heard Isabella’s gasp and he knew he’d gone too far. He reached for her hand. “Isabella. It’s not that—”
She jerked her hand away. “Eliza speaks out of turn.” Her voice was shaky. “We all appreciate what you’ve done for us and it was rude of my sister to imply you needed to do more.”
But her face was pinched, and her eyes showed her hurt. They crinkled in pain even as her other features grew taut.
“Try to understand. My past. I can’t be that man for you.” He ran a hand through his hair. Of course, she didn’t understand. How could she?
“I never asked you to be. I’ve never asked you for anything that I didn’t try to give in even trade.” She stood straighter. “My father taught me the principles of business a long time ago.”
So that was why she was always so concerned?
“A lesson my sister has forgotten.”
“I have not,” Eliza returned. “I have every confidence that His Grace,” she put special emphasis on his title, “will get more from that bargain than you will.”
“Eliza,” Isabella said with a force that Bash had never heard from her. “That is enough. Go back inside and wake up our aunt. We’re leaving.”
Bash relaxed to know that they were coming with him. But he also wondered what sort of damage he’d just done. Isabella had been hurt.
And he also had to wonder if Eliza was right.
Chapter Fourteen
Bash sat behind his desk with a large glass of whisky in front of him. He’d gotten the sisters settled about an hour ago and had retreated to his office. Which meant Isabella was sleeping under his roof.
His hand shook as he reached for his glass.