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marriage contract was all a big mistake. That she didn’t have to marry a stranger. They would work together. She would be his right hand. He would be the father she had always wanted.
    Now he would open his arms to her and show his fatherly love.
    But when he looked back up and met her gaze, there was nothing but cool determination in his hard, uncompromising stare.
    The moment for miracles had vanished.
    “Jemma, don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” he told her. “I’ve done this for you. In time, you’ll see I’m right. You’ll come to love Alexandre Moreau. I hear he’s handsome, charming, and quite an honorable man.”
    “So, you honestly expect me to marry a virtual stranger? Some man you had to
pay
to marry me?”
    “I didn’t have to pay him,” he sputtered.
    “There is no dowry involved?”
    Cornered, he shrugged. “A small one.”
    “Knowing you, this small dowry could probably keep an entire family living modestly for years.”
    “I’m not about to back down. I can’t. I made this agreement with the Moreaus and I need your cooperation. I’ve never asked anything of you before, have I?” He took a deep breath and let out a long, ragged sigh. “I’ve never begged anyone for anything in my life, but I’m begging you now, Jemma. If you love me, help me keep my good name and secure the future of the company. Please do this for me. Promise me that you’ll marry Alex Moreau.”
    This was a nightmare. A bad dream she prayed would end. Jemma dug her nails into her palms, hoping the pain would awaken her. It only proved she wasn’t dreaming. Her father was still standing there with perspiration beading his forehead, waiting expectantly for an answer.
    He’d said he had never begged anyone for anything in his life, and she knew that was true, just as he had never asked anything so important of her either, until now. But this—
    “Well, Jemma?”
    His voice called her back. “What, Father?”
    “Please make me a solemn vow that you’ll marry Alexandre Moreau.”
    Don’t do it, Jemma gal!
    “I—” The words stuck in her throat.
    “I need this. I need you to uphold the O’Hurley name and see this through.”
    He
had
made a promise to the Moreaus, had signed his good name to an official document. He could be ruined before he even began in New Orleans. No matter how much she wished the circumstances away, she could never be the cause of his dishonor.
    Fight it, Jemma gal. Don’t give in
.
    Her grandfather was only a memory. Her father was flesh and blood and he was standing there expectantly, waiting for her to do as he asked, willing her to do the honorable thing.
    “But I promised Grandpa Hall….”
    “He would only want what’s best for you, too, Jemma. You know that, as a woman, this is really the only course you can follow. Do this for me and I promise you’ll never regret it.”
    Deep down, she knew there was no way she could refuse; still, he was asking her to pour her hopes and dreams onto thirsty sand and watch them evaporate.
    “Must I give you an answer today?” She knew it would only prolong the agony; still, she hoped—
    “I’ve booked passage for you on a ship bound for New Orleans at the end of the week.”
    “But
you’re
sailing to London in two days.”
    He looked away. “I can’t be there to see you wed. You know the settlement of the London assets can’t wait. Finlay was deep in personal debt. I have to try to save what I can of his portion of the partnership; everything I have depends on that. I’m counting on you to sail to New Orleans without me and see this marriage through, Jemma.”
    So torn. A refusal was on her lips until he did the one thing she had never expected. He slowly reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder. With a feather-light touch, he gave her an awkward but gentle pat.
    Jemma broke. She felt her lower lip begin to tremble and bit down hard to keep it still. Once more her father’s image was blurred by shimmering tears.