The Earl's Bargain (Historical Regency Romance) (4 page)

Louisa peered from the window and was
saddened over the demolition. She'd always loved Montague
House.

"I know it's not as novel as the museum,"
Lord Wycliff said, "but a drive through Hyde Park would be somewhat
interesting – and I could introduce you to some Members of
Parliament." This he addressed to Louisa, who agreed.

As they rode along, the cousins frequently
shot each other amused glances over Ellie's queries. She was most
eager to see a thief since her governess, Miss Grimm, had told her
they could be found on every corner in London. Mr. Coke even began
to tease her good naturedly.

Louisa was glad that his lordship had not
sat next to Ellie, for she had observed an uneasiness in Ellie when
the earl talked to her sister. With the younger Mr. Coke, though,
Ellie was relaxed -- even mildly flirtatious.

It must be the age, Louisa thought with
irony. How anyone could prefer the insipid cousin over the earl she
could not understand. If one were given to frippery like admiring
appearances, anyone would have to admit the earl was far more
handsome, more manly. She looked into her lap, willing herself not
to think about his unsettling presence beside her, but she found
her eyes riveted to his muscled legs, perfectly parallel to her
own, yet so much longer.

For the second time in as many days, Louisa
was struck by the impression that he was as out of place in frock
coat and fine coach as a fish from water.

Unsettling, too, was the earl's sudden
interest in the less fortunate. Just yesterday he was throwing
around his wealth, vowing to reclaim Wycliff House, one of the
finest homes in London. How could a man change so in just one
day?

Harry turned to Louisa. "I believe your
sister harbors many unfounded fears."

"How perceptive you are," she said
facetiously.

She suddenly felt very shabby in her dark
gray serge. For the first time in years, she actually desired to
wear fine clothing, to look lovely. She told herself that then she
would be in a better position to make a good impression on the
lords who enacted laws. Her desire to look attractive had nothing
whatsoever to do with the man sitting beside her.

By the time his carriage had reached
Mayfair, she said, "I am hardly dressed for the grand promenade. I
shouldn't wish to embarrass you, my lord."

"It would never be embarrassing to be seen
with one as lovely as you."

She went unaccountably mushy inside and
could not meet his lordship's probing gaze. "You're very
gallant."

"Not at all. Only honest."

She swallowed. "Perhaps tomorrow we could go
to the park with you. Then Ellie and I could dress more suitably --
that is, if it would not interfere with your plans."

"I have no plans that do not include you and
your charming sister," Lord Wycliff said.

Mrs. Phillips' perceptions about appropriate
appearances had been bullseye correct, Harry admitted as they rode
through Hyde Park the following afternoon, the men of his
acquaintance fairly throwing themselves in his path while clamoring
for an introduction to his lovely companion. Such popularity
probably would have eluded her in the drab clothes she had worn the
day before.

When he had called for her, Harry had nearly
lost his breath when he gazed up the marble staircase to see the
extraordinary blonde gracefully moving down the steps. Since she
was still in mourning, she wore lavender, a thin muslin that draped
over the gentle curves of her body. Stirred by powerful emotions,
he was almost glad a woman once again inhabited Wycliff House.

Almost. He must not lose sight of his aim in
befriending this unusual woman.

Louisa had to be well pleased with their
outing today, Harry mused. Lord Seymour himself had chatted with
her and invited her to a ball at his home Thursday night. A coup,
indeed, since Lord Seymour's power in Parliament was legendary,
despite that he proclaimed himself to be a Whig.

It was actually quite remarkable meeting him
since a man as powerful as Seymour had no time for idle jaunts in
the park. On this particular day, though, Seymour chose to flaunt
his notoriety in an effort to introduce his niece to a variety of
Eligibles.

The older man had run his eyes over the
exquisite Mrs. Phillips, then tipped his hat to Harry. "Wycliff,"
he had said, drawing his phaeton to a halt.

Harry drew his carriage alongside of the
noted Whig.

"I should like to make you known to my
niece, who has just arrived in London from Middlesex," Lord Seymour
said. Though he appeared to be speaking to Harry, the man's
attention was clearly fixed on the woman sitting beside him.

Introductions behind them, Louisa said, "I
cannot tell you how very pleased I am to finally meet you, Lord
Seymour."

The man's eyes sparkled, but before he could
reply, Harry explained, "Mrs. Phillips is a bluestocking who's
desirous of expounding her ideas to powerful men in Parliament.
Some might consider her ideas radical."

"Then you must come to a ball my house
Thursday night," Lord Seymour said to her. "And you, too, Wycliff.
I give you my word, Mrs. Phillips, you shall have my ear then."
Taking up his crop, Lord Seymour bid them farewell.

Harry took great pains not to drive in the
vicinity of his recently settled mistress, Lady Davenwood, though
he was powerless to keep the flamboyant woman from drawing the
attention of the two young ladies who shared his conveyance.

"Who, pray tell, is that. . .buxom blond
lady in purple?" Miss Sinclair had asked.

Harry obliged her by imparting the
information that the woman was Lady Davenwood, then he directed the
coachman to drive in the opposite direction.

"I declare," Ellie shrieked, "I cannot
believe Lady Davenwood is not blushing scarlet! How can a woman
parade about so scantily clad?"

Harry was unable to suppress an amused grin.
Indeed, Fanny left little to the imagination. Her low-cut gown only
barely concealed her generous bosom -- hardly a sight one was
likely to have seen in broad daylight in Kerseymeade.

Mrs. Phillips met his gaze, a bemused
expression on her beautiful face. "Be careful, pet, or Lord Wycliff
will think you are a Methodist."

"You're not?" Harry teased, directing his
comments to Louisa.

She gave him a quizzing look. "A
Methodist?"

"I would have thought a reformer like you
would embrace Mr. Wesley's faith," he said.

"I admit there was a time I examined
Methodism closely, but I decided it was not for me," the widow
said.

Harry wanted to give the appearance of being
eager to understand her views. "And why would that be?"

She thought for a moment before answering.
Harry found himself watching her intent profile and thinking of her
classical perfection. Something about her touched him in a place no
woman had ever ventured, in a way he could not begin to explain.
She was lovely, and intelligent, and totally resistant to his
charms. In fact, she was the only woman he had ever known who was
unimpressed by his title. When she finally answered, he was struck
by the soothing pitch of her melodious voice.

"I am not nearly pious enough. Also, I
believe the Bible is literature, that it was never intended to be
picked apart and taken literally."

Harry lifted a single brow.
"Then you
do
read
the Bible?"

She nodded. "And poetry, and Shakespeare,
and political treatises."

"And which political tracts do you find most
enlightening, Mrs. Phillips?" Harry asked.

"Though it is nothing new,
I find Thomas Paine's
Rights of Man
exciting, and it has undoubtedly influenced
thinkers for the past thirty years. Mr. Wesley, too, has certainly
made his contributions. And the body of work by Mr. Bentham is
without equal. Hannah More is another for whom I hold a great
respect. And there's also a young scholar I admire greatly, James
Mill's son."

"Would that be John Stuart Mill?"

"You've read him?" Mrs. Phillips asked
incredulously.

Harry chided himself for not quelling his
usual authoritarian demeanor. He must remember to behave in a far
humbler manner. He shrugged. "'Twas a name that popped into my
head. I must assure you, Mrs. Phillips, I truly need your
guidance."

She silently watched the passing carriages.
"Poor Mr. Mill, the younger, was recently imprisoned when all he
was doing was trying to help the less fortunate."

"Pray, what was he doing?" Harry asked,
concern in his voice.

"He was instructing the ignorant masses on
methods of birth control," Louisa answered matter of factly.

Edward coughed. "Daresay it's a lovely day
for a ride in the park."

Ellie, turning scarlet now, avoided eye
contact with her companions. "Yes, it is," she said in a thin
voice. "I do so thank you for showing me around London. I am
enjoying it excessively."

As Edward and Miss Sinclair talked of
pleasantries, Harry was determined to convince Mrs. Phillips of his
sincerity in learning about the liberal thinkers.

"You must direct me to the younger Mill's
writings. Your recommendation is a hearty endorsement, to be
sure."

A flickering smile played at her lips. "When
we return to Wycliff House, I will make my library available to
you."

He studied her profile again, unable to
imagine her as the wife of the unscrupulous Godwin Phillips. "Tell
me, Mrs. Phillips, did the late Mr. Phillips share your enthusiasm
for the liberal thinkers?"

Her face went cold. "While he did not share
my beliefs, he allowed me to purchase whatever books I desired.
When he was alive, I kept them in my chambers. Now, they are in the
library."

He decided to probe further. "Did you have
your Tuesday meetings when Mr. Phillips was alive?"

She shook her head, and he detected malice
in her expression. "No. I went to many meetings, but in deference
to my husband's opinions, I did not bring the bluestockings into
his home. Or to what I thought was his home."

"Am I correct in thinking your husband would
not have approved?"

She swallowed. "You are correct."

He sensed she no longer wanted to speak of
her husband when she said, "I do believe you should start by
reading Mr. Bentham."

Harry's carriage pulled up in front of
Wycliff House. It was still impossible to look upon his former home
without being swept up in powerful emotions. As badly as he wanted
to regain the townhouse, he knew that possessing it would not bring
back the happy times and familial intimacy associated with it --
nor would it ever be the same without his mother.

God, but he needed to see it, to reclaim it.
He would spare nothing to gain possession of it.

While Ellie and Edward took a stroll through
the square's park, Mrs. Phillips took Harry to her library and
stripped it of volumes that would enlighten the uninformed
aristocrat.

* * *

Two days later, Louisa sympathetically
watched a dejected man walk away into the crush at Lord Seymour's
ball. She had been there but half an hour and had already turned
down half a dozen men who had begged her to stand up with them.
Surely young Mr. Dithers would be the last to approach her. She
fixed her gaze on Lord Wycliff, who stood at her left, and found
him appraising her with an undeniable look of heated desire. It was
the same look that had been on his face when he called for her and
she had come down the stairs wearing her new lavender gown. At the
memory, color crept up her cheeks, and she broke eye contact.

Perhaps the new dress had not been such a
good idea, after all. Though she had made it herself, it had taken
a rather dear length to fashion it. She could ill afford to part
with the money that went to the linen drapers. At least not until
she knew how much was left in Godwin's estate.

The time had come to put her half-hearted
mourning behind her. When she had stood in front of her looking
glass before Lord Wycliff called tonight, she was almost
embarrassed at how the soft silk hugged the curve of her breasts
and swept across her other curves in a most revealing way. Even
though her neckline was not nearly as low as most other women here
tonight, she could not deny that the gown was provocative.

Which wasn't at all what she had intended.
All she had wanted was to appear pretty enough to draw Lord
Seymour's attention. He was a most powerful man, and she desired
nothing more than to channel his power toward her pet projects of
reform.

She had to admit Lord Wycliff was becoming
sensitive to her views, despite that he was a noble. She detected
no embarrassment in his manner tonight when he informed his friends
of her radical ideals. In fact, he even spoke of her projects to
those men. "Mrs. Phillips opposes the idea of allowing only
freeholders to vote," he would say. Or, "Mrs. Phillips promulgates
compulsory education," he would tell another. To another, he said,
"I say, Mrs. Phillips's suggestions for a hierarchy of criminal
offenses -- for the purposes of incarceration -- have much
merit."

To which she replied, "Though I should love
to take credit for such brilliant ideas, Jeremy Bentham is the
genius who devised the scheme."

Harry addressed his companions: "Consider,
if you will, a man stealing a leg of mutton to feed his hungry
family, getting caught, and hanged. How can so petty a crime merit
the same punishment given a cold-blooded murderer?"

Louisa beamed as she watched Lord Wycliff's
friends' faces brighten with enlightenment.

After seeing him every day this week, she
was beginning to realize not all nobles were committed to the
status quo that was so advantageous to wealthy landowners like
themselves. Lord Wycliff's progressive ideas had blossomed like
spring flowers under her tutelage these past several days. She was
not only learning that all nobles were not opposed to change, but
also that not all men were totally selfish. If Lord Wycliff would
sit in Parliament next session and endorse the idea of extending
the franchise, he would gain Louisa's undying admiration.