Chapter One
London, England 1871
“Did you bring the plans?”
Silas Hayward, Viscount Winstead, feigned shock at his grandmother’s rather impersonal greeting. “What sort of welcome is that?”
He bent to kiss her paper-thin cheek, his heart warming at her request. “Of course, I did.”
Though he didn’t know what purpose would be served in showing her.
Haywards were well known for being charming, handsome rogues, but little else. Certainly not for their brains or innovative ideas.
However, his maternal grandmother remained his champion, something he appreciated since no one else believed in him.
The grand old lady, nearing seventy-five years, thumped her cane on the floor with impatience. “Let us see.”
Her white hair was carefully coiffed, her posture perfect, lending her a regal air. She was dressed impeccably, as always. She might live frugally, but she had excellent taste.
“No ‘I hope the day finds you well’ or ‘how are you faring’?” he asked with a lifted brow, unable to resist teasing her. His weekly visits when she was in London were always entertaining.
She leveled him a glare. “I can see perfectly well that you are devilishly handsome and charismatic as always. That is not what interests me.”
He shook his head and hid a smile. He adored the sharp remarks Mrs. Dorothy Sutton offered nearly as much as he adored her daughter, his absent-minded mother, though for completely different reasons.
His mother was a beauty, warm of heart but empty of head. She would be the first to tell anyone as much. She knew where her talents lay and had used them to make an advantageous match.
“The brains skip a generation,” his grandmother often told him. “Just look at my daughter.”
Silas’s mother’s angelic looks and sweet spirit had captured his father. Despite dire warnings from Silas’s paternal grandfather about her lack of a dowry, he’d offered his name and love to the lady.
His grandfather had never forgiven Silas’s father for it, though some forty years had passed since their marriage.
Meanwhile, the family’s debt steadily grew, threatening to cripple the title and all its holdings. Why his great-grandfather had decided to spend without regard for future generations remained a mystery, but he’d done it in grand style.
Through the years, much of the late earl’s possessions and collections had been sold. Unfortunately, it hadn’t put a dent in the debt. Nor had the next generation or the one after that.
Which brought the burden to Silas to resolve. In truth, he didn’t want the title or the debt. Not when the weight of it was something he couldn’t escape, especially when he closed his eyes at night and panic took hold.
He had yet to determine a way out except one.
“Don’t be like your father. Marry an heiress,” had been his grandfather’s advice before his death.
His maternal grandmother had a different idea, one that fed Silas’s dream. A dream he’d tried to explain to his father without success.
Silas had but one task—marry an heiress to save the family. That had been drilled into his head from a young age.
Tossing aside the goal to pursue a crazed plan that had come to him during his university years, one he’d secretly worked on ever since, would ruin everything.
He should let it go.
How many times had he told himself as much? In a moment of weakness, he’d shared it with his maternal grandmother whose intelligence far exceeded his own. She had been astounded, her delight leaving him breathless.
Yet he wished he could take back that moment as he had come to realize neither the rest of his family nor the ton wanted a brilliant inventor among their ranks.
However, handsome, carefree rogues were welcome.
Society’s expectations weren’t fair. Then again, neither was life.