Everyone Laughed at the Single Father at the Reunion—Then a Billionaire Crossed the Room for Him
Chapter 3
Thomas felt the room disappear around him.
“You knew Margaret?”
Nathaniel nodded slowly.
“Years ago.”
“How?”
Nathaniel looked toward the windows.
“I owe her a debt.”
Thomas didn’t understand.
“What kind of debt?”
Nathaniel glanced at Clara.
“Not here.”
Charles interrupted.
“What is going on?”
Nathaniel turned.
His voice became cold.
“Something that does not concern you.”
Charles’s face reddened.
Thomas had never seen anyone speak to Charles Whitcomb that way.
Nathaniel turned back.
“Thomas, may I speak with you privately?”
Thomas hesitated.
Clara slipped her hand into his.
Nathaniel noticed.
“You may bring your daughter.”
They entered a smaller room beside the hall.
Nathaniel closed the door.
He stood silently for a moment.
Then he said:
“Your wife saved my life.”
Thomas stared.
“When?”
“Fourteen years ago.”
“That isn’t possible.”
“She was working at the river warehouse.”
Thomas frowned.
Margaret had never mentioned it.
Nathaniel continued.
“I was twenty-six. My father had died. I had inherited his trading business, but I had almost nothing left after several ships were lost.”
Thomas listened.
“One winter night, I was attacked near the docks.”
“By whom?”
“Men who wanted my account books.”
Nathaniel’s eyes hardened.
“They thought I knew where my father’s money had gone.”
“What happened?”
“Margaret found me.”
Thomas’s heart beat faster.
“She called for help?”
“No.”
Nathaniel smiled faintly.
“She dragged me into an abandoned storehouse and hid me beneath sacks of flour.”
Thomas pictured Margaret doing exactly that.
“She stayed there until morning?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“Perhaps because she didn’t want you to think she had saved a wealthy man.”
Nathaniel reached into his coat.
He removed a small folded letter.
“I wrote this to her.”
Thomas took it.
The handwriting was elegant.
If I ever become wealthy enough to repay what you did, I will find you.
Thomas looked up.
“When did you write this?”
“Fourteen years ago.”
“You never found her?”
“I searched.”
“Why?”
Nathaniel’s expression changed.
“Because I learned later that the men who attacked me were connected to my father’s business.”
Thomas unfolded the letter further.
There was a second page.
“I wanted to protect her.”
Thomas stared at him.
“From what?”
Nathaniel didn’t answer.
Instead, he asked:
“Did Margaret ever tell you why she was afraid of the Blackwood name?”
Thomas’s blood ran cold.
“She never said anything.”
Nathaniel looked toward the door.
“Then we have a problem.”
