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“The idea’s preposterous, and I’ll have nothing to do with it.” Jonathan Kennebrae bolted from his chair and stalked across the office. “You won’t manipulate me like this. And I doubt Noah or Eli will go along with the scheme either.” His grandfather, Abraham Kennebrae, sat ramrod straight behind the walnut desk. For a man confined to an invalid chair these past eight years, his voice still rang with authority and vigor. “I’ve spent a lifetime building up this family’s fortune and power, and I want to die knowing it will continue. If not through you, then through your brothers. The best way to ensure this is to marry you boys off well. You act as if contracted marriage was something new. It’s been going on for centuries.” Jonathan clasped his hands behind his back under his coattails and stared out the window of Grandfather’s library. Two acres of emerald grass stretched below to the shoreline. Lake Superior spread before him, cobalt blue under an azure sky. The Lady Genevieve, the family yacht named for his grandmother, bobbed gently along the dock beside the boathouse. Her white hull gleamed, her mast pointed to the cloudless heavens. He wished he stood at her wheel, skimming over the waves, away from this incredible conversation. “It’s all arranged, Jonathan. Three weddings, three sound marriages, and the consolidation of four of the wealthiest families in Duluth. And not only that, but it brings together under one name all you need to control every aspect of this harbor: shipping, grain, ore, and lumber.” Jonathan turned and leaned against the windowsill. The morning sun fell through the stained glass of the upper windows, shattering rainbows on the Persian rug. He crossed his ankles, trying to appear casual. “All arranged? You and your cronies have everything mapped out? And Noah, Eli, and I have no say? Have you decided who is to marry whom, or were you just going to have us draw straws?” His jaw ached and the pain between his eyebrows increased. An image of Grandfather and his bewhiskered, cigar-smoking circle of friends bending over charts and arguing the relative merits of their offspring wavered before his eyes. “I have no intention of marrying an empty-headed show piece chosen by you. Are your grandsons no more than pawns to be shuffled about at your command? Whose idea was this?” His throat ached with the desire to yell, but years of training and deference to the man before him kept his voice controlled. “Now, lad”—Grandfather made a dismissing motion—“you make it sound worse than it is.” “I don’t see how that’s possible. I feel like a horse at auction. Did you sell us to the highest bidders?” Sarcasm dripped out, laced with exasperation. Grandfather wagged a gnarled finger. “Don’t take that tone with me. I’m still the head of this household. I made a sound business decision for this family. You’ll accede to my wishes in this. You’re nearly thirty. It’s past time you were married and setting up your household. As a member of the aristocracy of this city and this state, you have an obligation to marry well.” “Shades of the Four Hundred.” Jonathan jammed his hands into his pockets. “This is 1905, and your ideas are outdated. This isn’t New York City. It’s Duluth. I’m not marrying someone so I can be invited to better parties and promenade through Newport every afternoon during ‘The Season.’ And I’m certainly not interested in any female who wishes to marry for those reasons either.” “You couldn’t be further from the truth. You aren’t marrying into the salons of Fifth Avenue. You’re marrying to gain control of the harbor.” He waved his hand in a sweeping motion toward the lake. “Control that harbor and you control millions of dollars. Control millions and you control the politicians in St. Paul and Washington. Control St. Paul and Washington and you control the power to make more millions. Don’t you see it?” “What if I don’t want to control the harbor? What if I’m content with what I have: a solid business with an excellent reputation and a sound financial base?” “Then you’re a fool. You’ll have wasted everything I’ve spent my life building up. Now is the time to strike. Of the four richest families in Duluth, I’m the only one with male heirs. Lawrence Brooke, Phillip Michaels, and Radcliffe Zahn have only daughters. And don’t forget, a marriage to Lawrence Brooke’s daughter brings not just the grain docks in the harbor but the railroad that hauls the grain from the Dakotas, too.” Jonathan ran his hand over his hair. “You still haven’t convinced me. I don’t even know these women. Why would I want to marry any of them?” Grandfather thumped the blotter. “Stop being obtuse. I’ll make it as plain as possible. You will court and marry the daughter of Lawrence Brooke, you will gain control of the grain docks in Duluth harbor, and you will do so before Christmas.” “Before Christmas? That’s impossible. Christmas is less than three months away. Isn’t that a bit quick?” “Poppycock. I see no reason to wait. Waiting only increases the chances that something will go wrong. We must act now. You, as the eldest, will set an example for your brothers. The twins will fall in line. And it isn’t as if the young women won’t receive the benefits of a sound match. Wealth, status, security, influence. What more could a woman want?” Jonathan snorted. “I’m no expert on the female mind. I have no idea what they want. But what happens if I don’t do as you say? Or what if the woman won’t have me?” “I will disinherit you without so much as a blink.” Grandfather regarded him with glittering eyes. “I will leave my fortune only to those grandsons who do my bidding. Those who will not, receive nothing. I’ve already rewritten my will to reflect the changes.” Anger replaced the exasperation and unbelief in Jonathan’s chest. “You cannot be serious.” “I’ve never been more serious in my life.” Grandfather narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, causing his wiry side whiskers to bristle out like a badger. “Do you care to challenge me? The will stands as long as the girl is legally free and morally acceptable for you to wed.” Jonathan’s mind raced, and his muscles tensed. How dare that old reprobate? Kennebrae Shipping was his. He’d run the company, chaired the board, and overseen the day-to-day operations for the past eight years. He, not Grandfather, had expanded the fleet, brokered new contracts, enticed investors. The company was his life. He’d be dead before he’d let anyone take it from him. ~~~ ❤️‍🔥 When Jonathan must marry or forfeit his inheritance, opposites-attract sparks turn an arranged engagement into a slow-burn battle between duty and desire. 🏹 But Melissa’s secret double life as a literacy teacher and activist threatens everything—until truth, trust, and tender romance chart a new course. 💔 Perfect for fans of arranged marriage, secret identity, and clean historical romance. 💌 📖 Get THE BARTERED BRIDE by NYT bestselling author Erica Vetsch for only $3.99 or read in Kindle Unlimited! Ebook ➡️ https://amzn.com/dp/B0DX29ZWNB Kindle Unlimited ➡️ https://amzn.com/dp/B0DX29ZWNB Paperback ➡️ https://amzn.com/dp/1963212355 Audiobook ➡️ https://amzn.com/dp/B0F2VLZG49