Then, chiding herself for being a coward, Heather went upstairs to her bedchamber to remove her bonnet, an action she knew was only a delaying tactic.

She was reluctant to begin this interview, even a bit fearful. Not only had she refused Evan’s suit more than once, but now she intended to wed another man entirely.

Evan Randolf was not accustomed to being spurned. The British capitalist had made a fortune in railroad stocks and mining ventures and was intent on winning every battle he chose to fight. In this instance, her.

For a long time she’d thought his pursuit of her merely the action of a bored profligate. It was common knowledge that he kept a mistress, a flamboyant stage actress, and that he enjoyed sporting a different woman on his arm each evening.

But she knew now that what Randolf cared about was power and how to wield it to further his own ends. He fancied Heather as an ornament for his empire, and was not above using his vast wealth to pressure her to accept his marriage proposal—including taking over her late father’s newspaper and buying up the mortgage for her school.

He’d mistakenly thought desperation would drive her into his arms, Heather reflected. He had offered to assume all her financial burdens, to protect her from worry and grief and settle her in the lap of luxury. And there had been moments during the past difficult six months when his offer seemed tempting.

Dismayingly, his determined pursuit of her had led to some unsavory gossip at first—when she couldn’t afford even a hint of scandal if she hoped to maintain her school’s exclusive reputation. One highbrowed matron had actually withdrawn her daughter from the school, before Evan let it be known he was courting her with honorable intentions, that of making her his wife. And of course then none of the other pupils’ mothers wished to offend the future Mrs. Randolf.

Heather could not understand his obsession with her. Though her mother’s family had been wealthy, she had never aspired to join the circles in which Evan moved, and made no secret of her discomfort with his scandalous life-style. Perhaps, though, her prime appeal was her reticence. Evan was not accustomed to being denied, and her refusal of his hand had only whetted his appetite for the chase. For several months now, she’d tried to walk a nerve-wracking line of warding off his pursuit without making an outright enemy of him.

But even had she not been discomfited by his character and his excesses, she had no desire for the role she would lead as Mrs. Evan Randolf—a useless socialite whose prime function was to host elaborate dinner parties and attend charity functions with self-important people. She wanted to do some good in her life, something meaningful. Unlike her mother, she wanted her most pressing decision to be more momentous than which gown to wear.