Page 79 of The Wager of a Lady (The Beautiful Barringtons 4)

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Leo whistled to himself as he strolled down Broadway Street in the direction of the half-completed building at the corner. The lot was huge, more than enough space for what Leo had in mind. Schuller knew the owner of this piece of property. A gentleman who had fallen upon difficult times and needed the money the sale of the land would bring.

One man’s misfortune was Leo’s gain.

He did miss London and his family. But Leo had meant his words to Georgina. If she wished to stay here, so would Leo. In either case, building a business empire in New York made sense. He would start with a hotel.

The Barrington, as he’d decided to name his new venture, would be a sought-after destination. He envisioned the exclusive supper club he meant to put on the main floor, as well as the private area for gentlemen to enjoy their cigars and brandy. The lobby would be elegant, expensive but understated. Refined but welcoming. Perhaps he should ask Cordelia Rutherford her opinion.

Roots here, in this city, were important not only for Georgina and Daniel, but for Leo. The sting of being the Duke of Averell’s bastard wasn’t quite as sharp here. Leo had allowed his birth to dictate his life for so long, it would be a relief to become someone else. A better man.

This morning, Georgina had agreed to take him to see Daniel tomorrow.

Joy, the sort he’d never expected to feel, struck him full in the chest. He had never thought to have a child. Nor Georgina.

He closed his eyes and said a silent, grateful prayer for the soul of Marcus Barrington.

Leo would find a way to bend the truth of Daniel’s parentage. He possessed a great deal of money and connections. He refused to allow his son to bear a moment of the taint Leo had worn his entire life.

“Ah, Mr. Murphy.” Schuller stood on the street before the enormous lot with the half-built building. Bricks and bits of wood were strewn in disarray. A pile of discarded blankets sat in one corner along with the remnants of a burned-out fire. “What do you think?”

Leo thought The Barrington would take up the entire block. A big, grand building. Not of brick or the brownstone he’d seen, but fine cut stone. Gray, he thought. There was a quarry that supplied stone for construction, which he wanted to visit, but it meant a boat ride up the Hudson.

Just the thought of all that water beneath him made Leo queasy. If he could get to the quarry without losing most of his breakfast, Leo would count himself lucky.

“I like the location,” Leo replied to Schuller.

“It’s a desirable one. I have a strong feeling Broadway Street will become important, stretching as it does nearly the length of Manhattan.” Schuller pierced him with a shrewd look. “I wouldn’t agree to partner with you if it wasn’t.”

Schuller had nearly as much to lose as Leo if the hotel didn’t become profitable.

Leo meant to leverage his connections in London to ensure the success of The Barrington here. It would take some time. New York was still recovering from a spate of disasters. But Leo could be patient. And the odds of success were in his favor. “My thoughts exactly, Schuller.”

They walked around the lot for a bit, speaking of companies best suited to the construction versus what the cost would be. How soon the hotel could be started. How much of the existing building would need to be removed. Other than Elysium, The Barrington would be the first time Leo had created an idea from the ground up. The project would be vastly time-consuming. Expensive. But in the end, he thought The Barrington would be worth the trouble. He couldn’t wait to see Tony’s face when he told his brother he was naming a hotel after the family.

After settling some of the more urgent matters between them, Schuller and Leo parted, promising to speak the following day. The owner of the property would receive their offer today, and Schuller assured him it would be accepted. Construction could begin in the spring.

Lighting a cheroot, Leo walked back to the house he had rented, but his mind stayed on the hotel. The entire top floor of the Barrington would be a series of large apartments where he and Georgina would live with Daniel, plus an entire guest suite large enough to accommodate the Barringtons should they ever descend on Manhattan.

Phaedra would love New York.

The door of the home he’d leased swung open as he jogged up the steps to reveal his housekeeper, Mrs. Flick, ready to greet him. She was a lovely woman. Irish, of course, as many of the servants in New York were, with a comforting roundness about her small body. She made the most delicious apple pie he’d ever eaten.

“Waiting for me, were you, Mrs. Flick?”

The older woman blushed several shades of pink. She’d taken to mothering him, always appearing in his study with a plate of lemon cookies or a tray loaded with food if he missed breakfast. Her fussing reminded Leo oddly enough of his stepmother, Amanda, though the two women looked nothing alike.

“There are several letters for you, Mr. Murphy.” She handed him the small stack. “Will you be dining at home tonight?”

“Unfortunately, Mrs. Flick, I will not. Business, I’m afraid.” He meant to dine with Georgina, perhaps entice her to walk around the park down the street from her house. He wanted to hear her laughter and have her tell him more about Daniel. Then he meant to take her to bed.

He leafed through the stack of letters, seeing Mrs. Flick’s dejection at the knowledge Leo wouldn’t be dining at home. She nodded and headed in the direction of the kitchens to inform the rest of his small staff. The solicitor he’d engaged since coming to New York had helped secure this house which came with Mrs. Flick, the cook, a maid, and a groom. More than enough staff for only Leo. Most of the neatly addressed letters were invitations to dine at the home of potential business associates. Schuller had been instrumental in helping him make connections and would make a splendid business partner.

His fingers halted on a note with his name scratched across it in a feminine hand.

“Mrs. Flick.” He paused halfway up the stairs.

The sound of her footsteps sounded as she came back to the foyer. “Yes, Mr. Murphy? A change of plans, perhaps?” A hopeful look was firmly placed on her pleasant features.

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