Noelle was thoughtful as she tried to piece together what Constance was telling her. This meant that Simon now controlled one third of Copeland and Peale in his own right and one sixth through Constance's remaining shares. Quinn controlled the same, one third in his own right and one sixth through the shares Constance had given her. What an amazing woman she was! With one bold stroke, she had neatly restored the balance of power between father and son.
"How much money did Noelle have?" Quinn asked, looking at Constance with considerable admiration.
"Nearly fifty pounds."
He almost choked. "You sold sixteen percent of the best shipbuilding firm in the world for fifty pounds?"
"Forty-eight pounds, five shillings, and sixpence!"
Quinn threw back his head and laughed. Only Noelle did not join in. She knew she should tell her very kind, very generous friend that she wouldn't be going to America and would never see the shipyard, but she couldn't bring herself to spoil Constance's happiness quite yet and neither, it seemed, could Quinn. She would wait until tomorrow.
"Before I turn these papers over to your wife," Constance said as she accepted a heavy envelope from Simon, "I must ask you to make the same agreement your father made."
"What's that?"
"This is Noelle's property. Legally, of course, you can take control just as Simon can take control of my property. But I am asking you to give me your word that you will not do that. Noelle must vote her own shares."
"But that's ridiculous!"
For once Noelle found herself in agreement with her husband. Still, what did it matter? Quinn would be gone soon, and he could do anything he wanted with the shares.
Quinn shook his head in disgust and turned away. "Constance, I've always respected your judgment, but this makes no sense. Noelle knows nothing about building ships."
"You will teach her."
Quinn confronted his father. "Why did you agree to this nonsense?"
"I didn't at first, but when I stopped raving and began listening to Connie, I discovered she made sense. She doesn't deserve to lose all of her decision-making power just because she's decided to marry."
"Of course she doesn't. But you can hardly compare Constance's value to Copeland and Peale with Noelle's."
"Noelle has more value than either Constance or I," Simon snapped. "She'll be bearing the heirs to the company!"
Noelle shot up from her seat, but before she could speak, Constance caught her by the hand.
"Simon has been tactless as usual. Naturally we hope you will have children, but that is your business, not ours. The fact is, Noelle, you are blessed with both courage and common sense and will certainly be an asset to the company. Well, Quinn, will you give your word that she controls her property in her own right?"
A faint prick of foreboding stung Noelle as Quinn turned and studied her with dark intensity. What was he waiting for? Why didn't he just agree and get it over with? He knew she would not hold him to his promise.
"You have my word."
Constance placed the envelope in Noelle's hand. "Welcome to Copeland and Peale, my dear."
Quinn excused himself from the room. Noelle took another cup of tea and questioned Simon and Constance about their wedding. The three of them smiled over London's reaction to this second elopement in the Copeland family and then discussed Constance's planned move back to Northridge Square.
When Quinn returned, Constance invited them to stay for lunch, and he accepted with alacrity. As they settled themselves around the table Noelle noticed that Quinn's black mood had vanished. He teased Constance, treated his father with courtesy, and was even polite to her. It was as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and it made Noelle very uneasy.
Her apprehension grew when they returned home to an unusual flurry of activity. Tomkins held one of Quinn's valises in his hand as he opened the front door for them. They stepped inside just as two footmen were descending the stairs, one at each end of a trunk. When they passed her, Noelle glimpsed a wisp of bronze satin peeking out from beneath the closed lid.
Her eyes flew to Quinn, but he had already disappeared down the back hallway. She ran up the stairs and into her bedroom, where Alice was fastening the last straps on one of three trunks scattered across the floor. The door of Noelle's armoire stood open, its empty maw telling her everything. Quinn had sent word ahead to the servants, telling them to pack all her things. He planned to take her with him!
She finally located him in her small blue and peach sitting room at the back of the house. He had never been in this room, and now it added to her outrage to see him trespassing among her things, holding one of her books in his hand.
"I thought you might want to take some of these with you."
"I'm not going anyplace, Quinn."
He continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Your taste in books surprises me. Bacon, Locke, Samuel Pepys. Not a single one of Mrs. Radcliffe's romances. But then, you've managed to surprise me from the beginning, haven't you, Highness?"
Noelle refused to be distracted. Defiantly she crossed her arms and glared at him. "I'm making my own choices now, Quinn. It's over. You've had your revenge for everything you think I've done to you. You've abducted me-"
"Abducted you?" He set down the book he was holding and lifted a dark, mocking eyebrow. "You're being melodramatic. A man doesn't abduct his wife. She goes wherever he tells her."
He was baiting her with his arrogance, deliberately trying to make her angry. But she wouldn't permit him to have that advantage over her.
"I'm to remain here. We've settled it."
"Things are different now," he shrugged. "I've sent a note to Constance telling her we've had a last-minute change of plans and are sailing early."
"Nothing is different. You can have my shares in the company. Do whatever you want with them. I release you from your agreement."
"I gave Constance my word, not you."
"Your word!" she sneered contemptuously. "Your word means nothing. You keep it only when it suits you."
His voice remained infuriatingly cool even as his eyes narrowed determinedly. "You're going to come with me to Cape Crosse."
"Cape Crosse is your home, not mine. I'm English. I don't belong in America. I belong here."
"You hate this life as much as I do. I've been watching you, Highness. You enjoy the company of the coachman and the kitchen maid more than anyone you meet in society. You don't belong here with this swarm of parasites. You belong with people who make their own way. America is a new country, sometimes a dangerous one. There's room for independent spirits."
Then he was next to her, catching up her shoulders in his hands, his voice barely a whisper, his closeness sapping her strength. "Come with me, Highness. Come with me of your own free will."
She recoiled from the strange, hypnotic appeal of his vision. "No! It's my life. Mine! I make my own choices!"
"You're my wife." His lips barely moved as he hissed each word. "The choices are mine."
"Never!" She pulled away from him and ran toward the door, but he caught the back of her dress and spun her around so violently that her chin slammed into the hard muscle of his shoulder.
"There are two ways we can do this, Highness. You can walk to the carriage like the lady you pretend to be, or you can leave it up to me." His fingers tightened ruthlessly on her arms as he gave her one warning shake. "Which will it be?"
In answer, she drew back her foot and kicked at him with all her might.
"Have it your way," he muttered through clenched teeth. Pitching her roughly over his shoulder, he carried her into the hallway, past the gaping servants, and out the front door.
Noelle did not make it easy for him. She pounded him with her fists and then sunk her teeth into the tendons of his back. He let out a muffled curse and cracked his hand down hard on her buttocks. As the carriage pulled away from the house on Northridge Square, she still felt the sting of it.