Page 51 of Twice Upon a Midnight

“About keeping me safe, warm, and fed. Aye—you cared aboutme.” Martin approached him and tapped him on the chest with the sheath of papers. “I let you bring me food, coal, blankets—all of it—because I knew you cared about me. If I’d have told you I didn’t need all that, everything between us would have been ruined. You never would have treated me the same way again.”

“You took advantage of my kindness.”

“Actually,” Mr. Gordon rushed to defend Martin, “he revised his will last year to—”

“It’s all right,” Martin hushed the solicitor. “Spenser doesn’t need to know all that. He just needs to know that I appreciate him and his kindness.” His voice cracked. “That I love him like a son, and that I have every intention of protecting him exactly as a father would.” He gently pushed the papers into Spenser’s hands. “Read these. You’ll understand.”

Spenser blew out a sigh and read through the papers. Three agreements—no, two agreements and a will. But the more he read, the more confused he became.

Ella came up beside him. “What are they?”

“Your future,” Martin answered her. He nodded at the papers, then crossed the room to the old dish dresser in the corner. “I’ve had Gordon put together new business arrangements.” He lowered himself slowly with his arthritic knees to search the bottom cabinet and explained, “Originally, after you’d saved me, I’d changed my will so that you’d inherit all my interests in the company upon my death and—”

“What?”Spenser choked out. He simply couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I had no one else to leave it to.” Martin’s voice took on a faraway quality, and he didn’t dare look over his shoulder at Spenser. “My only son Benjamin died thirty years ago before he could marry and have children of his own. My dear Betsy passed on shortly after that, and I had no other family. I’d spent too much time at my business to have more children. Friends were few and far between, and I couldn’t completely trust the ones I had.” His voice lowered as he added, “Until you came along.” He cleared his throat to remove the emotion from his voice. “But I realized tonight that I might live for a few more decades—”

“I very much hope so!” Ella exclaimed.

Martin paused in his search of the cabinet to smile at her over his shoulder. “Spenser said you were a kind one. And pretty, too.” He winked at her. “He didn’t lie.” He turned back toward the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of port and two glasses. He carried them to the table. “Gordon, bring two more glasses, eh?”

The solicitor quickly did as asked. Clearly, he respected Martin and had worked with him for years, holding the same loyalty for the old man as Spenser did.

But Spenser was also angry. And completely confused. “What are these new arrangements?” Spenser set the papers down on the table. “What are you scheming at?”

Martin poured port into the four glasses. “I want to stop you from making the same mistake I did.” He held out one of the glasses to Spenser. “I don’t want you to end up old and alone like me.” He offered a second glass to Ella. “This was the only way I could ensure the two of you had a chance of being together.”

Her fingers closed around the glass. “How so?”

“You’re the daughter of a wealthy and powerful duke,” Martin explained, gesturing for Mr. Gordon to help himself to the last glass as he raised his own to his lips. “I’m not oblivious to how society works, my lady, and I know how torn you are between accepting the kind of man your parents want for you and your love for Spenser.”

Her shoulders slumped beneath the weight of that truth, and she whispered, “I won’t marry for anything less than love.”

“That’s a good lass.” Martin’s face glowed with approval. “But that choice might cost you dearly.” He pointed his glass toward her. “Of course, you’re old enough to defy your parents and marry whomever you wish, including a Paternoster printer. But it would cost you your family, and I wouldn’t ever want that for you. Yet if Spenser weren’t just a printer—if he were the fourth wealthiest businessman in England—”

“Thethirdwealthiest,” Gordon corrected. “Your overseas interests did exceedingly well last year, sir.”

Spenser stared at the solicitor and how calmly he had said that.Good God.

“The third wealthiest,” Martin repeated. His mouth quirked into a self-deprecating smile. “As I said, I couldn’t care less about the money.” Then his smile turned somber. “But itwillbe important to you two. Having all that wealth will make Spenser acceptable to everyone—including your parents—and all those society lords and ladies wouldn’t dare cut you for being his wife.”

“I don’t care about any of those people.” She reached for Spenser’s hand. “I keep trying to tell him that.”

Spenser grimaced. “Because I know how hard life will be as my wife.”

She squeezed his hand. “And how wonderful.”

His chest warmed. Dear God, he loved her. Yet unanswered questions still spun inside his head. “What arrangements did you make on our behalf?”

“No,” Martin corrected. “I made arrangements onmybehalf.” He selected a sheet of paper from the stack and pushed it across the table toward Spenser and Ella. “This one says that you’ll take care of me for the rest of my life. All the details are stated herein. You’ll treat me as family, care for me, and provide for me, and in return, I will sell you all my business interests for a single penny.” He slid over additional pages. “I’ve also redone my will to take this new agreement into account.”

“I’ve laid it all out in proper legal language,” Mr. Gordon assured Spenser with a nod at the papers. “All you have to do is sign them.”

“No.” Spenser shoved the documents back toward the solicitor.

Martin’s face fell.

He slipped his arm around Ella and drew her against his side. “We will welcome you into our lives as family and take care of you as long as you’d like,” Spenser explained. “But I don’t need a binding contract for that. We wouldn’t do anything less for you, simply because we love you, you frustrating old man.” He paused and pulled in a deep breath, his voice hoarse. “You truly think of me as a son?”