The Earl's Bargain (Historical Regency Romance) (25 page)

"Shall I have the privilege of reading it
before it is published?"

"If you like." The smug contentment in her
voice belied her air of complacency. He knew she was most desirous
that he read it.

"What is it about?"

"It's actually more ethical than political.
It's on the extinction of honesty."

His brows lowered. "You may ruffle many
feathers."

She shrugged. "I don't mind that – if the
essay accomplishes some good."

"Or, to quote the great
Jeremy Bentham,
for the good of
all
."

"You know, my lord, that I'm not a
Benthamite purist," she said with indignation.

"I do know. You also respect the rights of
the individual."

She gave him a condescending nod.

He finished his tea and stood up to finish
getting dressed. Louisa, returning to her essay writing, seemed to
take no notice of him. He was growing so comfortable in her company
that he had a sense of what it would be like to share one's life
with someone else, like one did with a wife.

A pity he would never find a wife whom he
could care for as much as he cared for Louisa.

When he was finished he asked, "Pray, now
you may tell me of your great idea for me to reclaim my mother's
portrait."

"Us."

His lips compressed. "Me, my good woman," he
said sternly, "not us."

"Then I will not tell you."

"Fine," he snapped.

Seeing that he was headed to the door,
Louisa put down her pen and stood. "You could at least hear my
plan."

He folded his arms across his chest and
gazed down the bridge of his nose at her. "Tell me your plan."

"I cannot tell you when you're standing
there impatient to leave the room. Come, sit on the bed with
me."

He strode across the room and sat on the bed
beside her, their thighs parallel to each others'. He noticed that
his extended a good eight inches beyond hers. She truly was not
much larger than a child.

"Did you not tell me that anything could be
had, provided one's pockets were deep enough?"

He nodded. "I did."

"So I thought you could purchase used
clothing for you and I to disguise our station in life -- that is,
if you can find someone large enough for you."

"The question is whether we
can find some small enough for you. That is
if
I were going to allow you to
participate -- which I'm not."

She scowled at him beneath lowered brows.
"Once we are dressed appropriately, you bribe the greengrocer to
hide us in his wagon when he enters Gorwich Castle. While he is
conducting business to distract the cook, we sneak in. Then we wait
until dark. You will then remove the portrait from its frame as I
stand as lookout."

"And if we're caught?"

"Then I expect the vile Lord Tremaine would
merely have you thrown out as he did yesterday."

Her plan really wasn't so objectionable,
after all. And she was probably correct about Tremaine throwing
them out on their ears.

Harry faced Louisa, devilment in his
flashing eyes. "All right. It's a good plan." He got to his feet.
"Now how do I go about finding the greengrocer?"

* * *

As much as he disliked the prospect of
wearing well worn homespuns, Harry knew he would have to disguise
himself from the small army of footmen who had removed him from the
castle the day before. The disguise became reality when he actually
found clothing to fit him. Well, not really fit him since he had to
tie the waist with a rope to keep the pants from falling down. The
village's huge blacksmith was the only man who was close to Harry's
height. The man parted with his old clothing for a guinea. The
condition of the clothes the blacksmith had outgrown was poor
indeed. He must have worn them daily for a dozen years. Finding
clothing for Louisa proved far easier. Any number of the stable
lads were clamoring to part with their old clothing for a guinea.
Only one of them, however, proved to be a close match in size to
Louisa, and the poor lad possessed but one suit of clothing. Louisa
promised she would bring it back as soon as she could, hopefully
that evening.

She made rather a cute boy, Harry thought.
Of course her breasts were a bit of a problem, but he was not
comfortable discussing them with her, as much as he would like to.
She would likely give him a facer.

Now suitably dressed, Harry had no problem
persuading the greengrocer to carry a pair of extra companions into
the castle yard -- and to keep quiet about it – for a couple of
quid. The ruddy man's eyes rounded when he beheld the money. It was
probably more than he earned in several months.

Harry was rather surprised at how easy it
was to get within the castle walls. He and Louisa each carried a
basket of vegetables down to the kitchen while the regular
greengrocer spoke to the cook.

From the kitchen Harry and Louisa crept up
the servants' stairway and ducked into the silver closet. Since
Tremaine was reported to be reclusive, surely there would be no
upcoming function for which silver must be polished. Just to be
safe, Harry and Louisa hid in one of the lower cupboards--which was
no problem for Louisa, but which forced Harry to nearly fold
himself into a box.

They had decided to stay there until they
presumed the dinner hour passed. That's when they would enter the
dining room and relieve Lord Tremaine of his ill-gotten
portrait.

If the drawbridge was closed at night, they
were prepared to spend the night under the dining room table and
leave the castle when the drawbridge lifted at the first light of
dawn.

The problem was the deuced
cabinet was unbearably hot and far too little for him. He decided
to take his chances just
standing
in the silver closet. After all, anything could be
had for a price. He would merely pay whomever discovered him to
keep quiet.

Then Harry remembered the fear he had seen
on the London solicitor's face when he had declined Harry's
generous offer. Tremaine instilled that kind of fear in people. The
butler -- or whoever found them -- would be no different, Harry
realized with disappointment.

If he couldn't bribe the bloody butler or
whatever servant might catch him, he would just have to tie up the
servant and gag him with the rope that held up his pants. Harry had
no idea how he would then hold up his pants in such an event.

"I can't stand this another minute," Harry
whispered to Louisa.

"I know," she whispered. "I can barely
breathe."

"I expect I'm taking all the air."

Unable to sit in the cupboard another
minute, Harry got out. It felt deuced good to stretch his legs and
fill his lungs with the plentiful supply of air.

Louisa followed him.

"What will we do if one of the servants
comes in here?" she asked.

"We shall have to see if my pockets are deep
enough."

A pity there was no window in the silver
room. How would they know when night fell? Though it was only
morning, the meager chamber was as dark as midnight. And to think,
they would be confined here for another ten hours.

Taking Louisa's hand, he slid along the back
wall to a sitting position, and she rested beside him. Once again
he was filled with a protectiveness toward the slim woman who sat
so close to him in the darkness. He cursed himself for allowing her
to come. If something should happen to her. . .it was far too
painful to contemplate. He only knew he would give his own
worthless life to protect hers.

They sat in the dark stillness for an hour,
neither of them needing words to bind them, for they were closer to
one another than those bound by flowery phrases -- or by a vicar's
ceremony.

"Harry?" she whispered finally.

Nothing she could have said
would have been more welcome. He hated it when she reverted to
calling him
my lord.
Harry and Louisa
suited them and their
peculiar relationship. "Yes?" he answered softly.

"I suppose when you regain Wycliff House
you'll want to start a family."

How had she known? Since the day he had
reclaimed Cartmore Hall, his goal had been to find a fine woman who
could bear him children, thereby fulfilling the Wycliff legacy.
Until he met Louisa he had never thought to find a woman who owned
his heart as his mother's heart was secured by his father. "That's
been the whole point," he said.

She was silent a moment. "You want to
reestablish the family that once meant so much to you," she said
with an irrepressible sadness in her voice.

"You know me too well," he said curtly.

Silence hung between them. They could hear
the shuffling of servants' feet outside their tiny chamber, and
despite himself, each time footsteps drew near, his heart
stampeded. Not for himself. Fear had always been a stranger to him,
but a numbing fear for Louisa consumed him. "Perhaps you should get
back in the cupboard. We can leave the door open, and I'll swiftly
shut in the event our presence is detected."

"No!" she shreiked. "I believe I'd rather
die with you than go on without you."

Her words swamped him in a flurry of
passionate emotions. His arm slipped around her slim shoulders and
his lips hungrily moved to hers.

She lifted her face to his and eagerly
received his kiss.

Then he drew away from her. "Forgive me,
madam."

She was silent, and he feared he had greatly
offended her. "Would that I could see my watch," he said in a
feeble attempt to change the direction of her thoughts. "How will
we know when supper is over?"

"I expect we'll hear the sound of plates
being carried back to the kitchen.

Another great period of silence fell. Poor
Louisa, he thought, was just learning to trust a man for the first
time in her life, and he had forced himself on her. How vile he
was! Then he remembered the sweet taste of her lips – lips that had
eagerly sought his. He remembered, too, the pleasure her words had
given him when she had said she would rather die with him. Such
thought had the power to give him hope that the proper little
bluestocking did not find him so repulsive after all. He must do
nothing more to repel her. She was far too precious to lose to his
own carnal needs.

After the passage of more than an hour, she
spoke again. "I had not realized how hungry I'd be."

He found her hand in the darkness and
squeezed it. "You'll eat to your heart's content as soon as we get
the painting." His stomach plummeted. What if they were caught? He
had no assurances Tremaine would not prefer to mete his own
punishment. Harry could not risk Louisa's safety. Suddenly, his
mother's portrait seemed not worth the huge risk.

He rose to his feet. "I have lost my
eagerness to reclaim my mother's portrait. If I pay Tremaine
handsomely enough, perhaps he will allow me to have it copied."

"Listen," Louisa whispered, "'tis the sound
of dishes."

The clatter of stacked plates tapping into
one another drew closer, then faded away toward the basement.
Tremaine had finished eating.

Louisa came to stand beside him. "We can get
it now, Harry. You've come so far, I can't let you leave empty
handed."

"It could be dangerous."

"You have no confidence in my plan," she
said with disappointment.

He could envision a pout on her little
rosebud mouth. He hated like the devil to squelch her confidence.
"It was an excellent plan, but I seem to be too great a coward to
pull it off."

"You're lying to protect me," she said.
"There's not a cowardly bone in your body."

"You don't know me as well as you
think."

"But I do, Harry," she said in a soft voice.
Then she laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Please, Harry, let's get
your mother's portrait. I assure you we'll go undetected."

She sounded so confident, his fears for her
were swept away. "Very well. Shall we go for it, Mr. Lewis?"

"You remember where the dining room is?" she
whispered.

"On the next floor. I believe we should take
the servants' stairs."

He crowded in front of her so he could be
the first out the door. He crept into the cold stone hallway and
turned back to motion for her to come. Then he rounded the
stairway, placing his foot on the first step. As soon as he did so,
he heard two laughing maids on the landing above.

He and Louisa scurried back to the silver
closet, with their ears to the door. They waited until the women
had passed, then left the sanctuary of the closet once more.

This time they made it all the way up the
stairs. They saw and heard no one.

"Which way's the dining room from here, do
you think?" he asked when they arrived at the central hallway.

"I believe it's on the other end of this
hall," Louisa said, "but how can we avoid being seen by those
footmen at the end of the corridor?"

"We can sneak into the first room, and from
there I can climb out the window and make it over to the window of
the dining room."

"Just because the dining room has been
modernized with large windows doesn't mean the other rooms have. Do
you remember how high and how small castle windows normally
are?"

"You have a point there," he said.

"Not to mention we're on the second floor.
You know how to climb horizontally?"

"You have another good point."

"It's a very good thing I came along with
you."

They stood there at the base of another
flight of back stairs with no idea how they were going to get into
the dining room. After some length and a dozen faulty scenarios, he
exclaimed, "I have an idea."

"What?"

"I'm afraid we'll have to use you as a
distraction. You will need to try to creep along the main rooms of
this level of the castle and creep up the main staircase, then
distract the footmen who are on the other end of this hall."