Free Magnate by Joanna Shupe

the more secrets Will kept from her. He traveled constantly, rarely telling her where, not to mention his evasion about their financial well-being. The business was his first concern—not her, the only family he had left.
    Well, she had secrets of her own.
    â€œBecause he asked.”
    â€œYou make it sound as if you are desperate for companionship. What about Rutlidge? Have you considered how your cavorting with Cavanaugh will affect your relationship with—”
    â€œHenry and I are friends, Will. Nothing more. I know you want me married and off your hands, but Henry is not the man for me.”
    â€œLizzie, you’re twenty-one. If I wanted you married off it would have happened years ago. Nevertheless, you can’t wait forever. Rutlidge is a good match. I like him, and I think he cares for you.”
    For the life of her, she couldn’t picture Henry’s face. All she could see was Emmett Cavanaugh’s dark, piercing eyes in the carriage last evening. He’d almost kissed her, his hot stare never leaving her mouth. What would it have felt like? She bet the kiss would have been rough and wild, just like the man himself. She suppressed a shiver.
    â€œMaybe I do not want to marry at all.”
    Will gave her a compassionate half smile. “You’re just being stubborn. Of course you want to marry. One of us has to ensure the next generation of Sloanes.”
    â€œThat’s your responsibility, since my children won’t be Sloanes. And I don’t see why I need to marry.” She cocked her head. “Does this have anything to do with the paintings and stocks you sold—”
    â€œNo,” he cut her off. “I want you settled because I’m gone half the time, and I worry about you in this big place by yourself. And if something happened to me . . .” He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “I need to know you’re taken care of. Mother and Father would have wanted that for you.”
    The mention of their parents hung heavily between them, a reminder of the grief they shared as siblings. Will had assumed so much at a young age after their father’s death fourteen years ago. Lizzie hated to add to it. “I’ll think on it,” she hedged.
    â€œThat’s a girl.” He came over, pulled her to her feet, and wrapped her in a hug. “I want you to be happy, Lizzie.”
    â€œThen give me the money to start my brokerage firm.”
    He backed away and threw his hands up. “That again! You cannot go to work, like some low-class shopgirl. You’re a Sloane, for God’s sake. Think of your reputation. What would everyone say?”
    â€œWill, I know the business is in trouble.” Her brother flinched, but she continued. “There are things you aren’t telling me. Please, let me help. I can—”
    â€œAbsolutely not.” He pushed back the sides of his coat, shoved his hands in his pockets. “We’ve talked about this. Everything is fine. There’s absolutely nothing for you to worry about. Let it go, Lizzie.”
    He was lying. She knew it in her bones. Yet each time she presented him with proof, he had an explanation ready.
    Never mind him. The Sloanes would not go broke, not if Lizzie could do anything about it. She had been speculating in her head for years. Now she would take that ability and invest on a much larger scale for others, retaining a nice percentage for her efforts.
    â€œNow,” Will continued as he strode toward the door, “I’ve sent a note to Rutlidge asking him to join us for dinner tonight. Being seen together will help put this god-awful Cavanaugh business behind you.”
    She thought briefly about refusing, since Will had no business confirming dinner plans without checking with her first, but instead she blurted, “Why do you dislike Mr. Cavanaugh?”
    Will stopped and turned, his expression hard. “He’s the worst sort of man.