Page 41 of Bargaining for the Barrister
Well, if that didn’t beat all. “You mean like you did when I told you about the attic? Or perhaps when Miss Cox and I took a mere walk around the grounds?”
Ian tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. “All right. I was out of line. Back to the meeting. Not only has the gossip found its way to three estates, but Lady Kellen is throwing a house party to provide Paul and Miss Cox opportunities to fall in love.”
Why were things escalating? Paul had weathered the rumors, and he and Louisa were beginning to understand each other. A marriage shouldn’t still be the matrons’ objective. He leaned on the back of the chair. Tom handed him the bowl of nuts again, but Paul pushed them away. Eating wasn’t going to solve his problems. “Ian, please tell me you have news of her brother that might help me.”
He nodded. “I do have some news. Mr. Logan Cox is the owner of Cox Textiles in Manchester, which has recently expanded to include a large factory in Lancashire, specializing in cotton and wool production.”
Everything Ian said made sense down to Louisa’s beautiful gowns, likely made from fabric produced at her family’s factories.
He continued. “The business changed hands one year ago, when the Coxes’ parents were killed and Miss Cox’s brother inherited.”
Lisette gasped. “Miss Cox lost both her parents? How truly awful.”
Ian gave a firm nod. “I was equally surprised, but it seems Paul was not.”
His silence pinned him. Despite their curiosity, he refused to expound, hoping to keep Louisa’s confidence. Thankfully, Ian accepted his quiet stance and cleared his throat to recapture everyone’s attention. “The rest of the details are sparse. Simply put, Mr. Cox has a fairly clean reputation, both in the industry and in his personal life. My solicitor will continue to privately inquire about further specifics on his income and investments, but I assume he is doing quite well for himself. I am at a loss to discover Miss Cox’s motivations for marrying our dear Paul.”
“She probably saw the handsome devil in London and chased him all the way here.” Tom threw a nut into the air and caught it in his mouth.
“Paul is a member of the landed gentry, despite the fact that he insists on working,” Jemma said. “Maybe Mr. Cox sees him as a worthy connection to raise his own middle-class status.”
Miles groaned from his seat next to Lisette. “You just categorized human beings as you would good eggs and bad eggs.”
Jemma glared at Miles. “I am merely stating the facts. Mr. Cox is in the textile business. We all know how well cotton and wool are selling these days with the increase in production and exportation. He cannot be coming to Paul for money, but status is another thing entirely.”
“Who sounds like a barrister now?” Ian nudged Jemma.
“Don’t rule out money yet,” Tom said. “There are a lot of competitors in textiles. This Mr. Cox could be looking for some future investors.”
Paul had his own theory, and it had nothing to do with Logan Cox and everything to do with the man’s sister. With her story of meeting Lady Kellen, Paul was sure she’d been pressured into coming. Poor woman. She’d arrived and found him—a cash-poor and an unwilling suitor—a disappointment, to be sure. But the motives for her arrival did not truly affect things now. She had agreed they were not a match. His mother, along with the other matrons, were the ones in need of convincing.
“I have a solution.” Paul released his grip on the chair and straightened. “I thought avoidance was the answer, but perhaps I need to throw the hounds off the scent.”
“A decoy?” Miles asked. “You cannot be thinking of employing Jemma or Lisette. No one in the neighborhood would believe it.”
“Why not?” Lisette asked. “I could play a besotted debutante.” Everyone stared at her in surprise.
Paul opened his mouth to speak, but Miles beat him to it.
“Just because you could doesn’t mean you should.” Miles’s tone came out sharper than he’d likely intended.
The awkwardness in the room was palpable as the two stared at each other. Paul cleared his throat. “Thank you for offering, Lisette, but I couldn’t ask you to do that. I was referring to Ian showing Miss Cox a little attention.” Saying his idea aloud was even worse than thinking it. It was a last-resort tactic, but it was the only idea he had left.
“Absolutely not.” Ian wrinkled his nose. “Lisette’s idea is far more favorable.”
Miles leaned forward in his seat. “Why not just let this all play out without any added interference. It’s complicated enough as it is, and Miss Cox does not deserve to have her heart toyed with any further.”
Louisa did not deserve any of this. If Paul could pick out a man for her, he wouldn’t have selected himself. But was Miles right? Should he just let the house party unfold?
Tom threw a nut at Miles. “Who invited Mr. Romantic? I say the more madness the better. Angel can shower her affection on Fisher, and Mother Hen can pretend he’s already half in love with Miss Cox. This is one house party I won’t want to miss.”
“Sounds more like a comedy of errors than fun.” Even as he said it, he realized Tom’s plan was wiser than Miles’s. Letting things happen naturally would further lower Paul’s guard. It was better to have a little madness now than a lifetime of it.
Because it was he who was already half in love with Louisa.
Chapter 18
Louisa gaped as Mr. Daviesstepped out of his carriage with his sister, Geraldine. Now she questioned the earlier arrival of Mr. Turner, which she had deemed a mere coincidence. Lady Kellen had invited two of the very men who had driven Louisa to accept her kind invitation in the first place. She took an involuntary step backward, every muscle eager to bolt.
