The Price of Pleasure (33 page)

T
ori inwardly groaned when the woman surveyed Grant appreciatively. She smoothed her shining, dark blond hair and sauntered up to him with a hand out. “Miranda McClure,” she announced. He clasped her hand, but she thrust it into his palm so that they shook like men.

“Grant Sutherland,” he answered in a discomfited voice. Young and alluring, Miranda was probably the last thing he'd expected.

Miranda's gaze flew to Tori, her ice-blue eyes narrowed into a censorious look. “You must be Lady Victoria. How strange, I didn't know you were connected with a Sutherland.”

Grant moved closer to Tori. “She's my fiancée.”

A pained smile of ruby lips. “How charming.”

“Where's Mr. McClure?”

“My father passed away some months ago,” she said with a sigh, looking very aggrieved. “I'm handling his affairs now.”

Tori was about to offer condolences, but Grant said, “Let's not waste each other's time. We know your father was bilking the earl out of a fortune and then lending it back to him at astronomical rates.”

Tori gaped as the woman's look of sorrow disappeared as if never there. Miranda shrugged prettily. “I'm afraid that's the nature of business. And I believe those notes are due directly.”

“Is that why you set the fire?”

“You don't expect me to walk into that one, do you?” She feigned a look of horror. “A fire? My goodness!” Her expression turned wooden. “If I were responsible, I'd never admit it.”

“That's not a problem. I'll put this simply. You know that in London, money can mean justice, and I have more of it than you do.”

“Oh, yes, those limitless Sutherland coffers. I've heard rumors that you make your own gold out in Surrey.” She gave him a dazzling smile. “In fact, I was considering marrying you when you returned.”

Tori stiffened. The look of disgust on Grant's face was the only reason Tori didn't slap her.

Miranda flashed Tori an amused glance. “Sheathe your claws, my darling. It's obvious you've got this one locked down.”

“Enough of this,” Grant said, his voice harsh. “I'd thought of trying to work out a settlement, but it's clear you belong in Newgate.”

For the first time, her glowing skin paled and her eyes widened. “What do you think would happen to a woman like me in there?”

Tori answered, “I think you'd be corrupted.” She snapped her fingers as though she'd just recalled something. “Oh, too late for that.”

When she shot Tori a scathing look, Grant said, “I'd make preparations,” then turned to escort Tori out.

“Wait!” Miranda grabbed Grant's other arm. “What if I paid back…half of what was owed?”

He gave her an incredulous look. “Too late. And we'll get the full amount from a settlement and still have the satisfaction of knowing you are rotting in a cell.”

“What if I paid back everything?” When she saw them still unbending, she added in a sultry voice, “What if I had information?…”

“About what?”

“Where has dear cousin Ian gone off to?” She tapped her cheek. “It's not pretty, and I wager he's praying right now for someone to save him.”

Grant grabbed her elbow. “Tell me.”

She put on a strong front and managed to glare at his hand.

“Talk!”

“Deal?”

He released her. “How do I know you won't come after us again?”

“I would never have knowingly”—she shot a look at Tori—“come after a Sutherland.” She put her hand on his lapel, but under his glacial look, she patted it and drew her hand away. “Miranda McClure knows better than to grab a tiger by the tail.”

“I want the information now. And, of course, you'll accompany us to the bank.”

She cringed at the word “bank.” “Fine. But I want to continue being your broker.”

“Are you mad? We'd spend our days making sure you didn't rob us again.”

“Won't you do that anyway, wherever you go? I
know
I can't get away with it, but someone else might try.”

“Forget it.”

Tori tapped his shoulder. “Grant, let's hear her information first. She does have a twisted sort of point.”

She flashed Tori a beatific smile. And Tori had the odd feeling that Miranda was making a mental note to pay her back the favor. Even more odd, Tori expected it.

“He's aboard a ship called the
Dominion,
based out of Liverpool.”

Tori shivered. Even the ship's name sounded ominous.

Grant eyed Miranda suspiciously. “We tracked him to France.”

“It last made port at St. Nazaire, then sailed for Foochow,” she explained.

Tori shook her head. “Foochow, as in China?”

Grant nodded slowly. Of Miranda, he asked, “How would you know this?”

“I know just about everything underhanded that goes on in this city.”

“Who did this to him?” Grant demanded.

“Again,
just about
everything…I don't know anything more than what I've told you.” Miranda tsked at Grant's still rigid stance and grabbed her hat. “Now, as delightful as this visit has been, may I please go pay you a fortune and be done with you? For today,” she added, emphasizing her expectation that they'd do business in the future.

When Miranda entered Cunliffe's Bank, the manager all but licked her boots, though he did seem distressed when she instructed him on the amount to be withdrawn. Tori gaped in open-mouthed astonishment when the woman tickled him under the chin and purred, “I'll come and plump it right back up for you, darling.”

 

Tori looked over her shoulder as they left Cunliffe's. “Do you think we should have asked her more?”

Grant shook his head. “I think we got everything from her. If I'd pushed, she would have started fabricating. But when you were finalizing the settlement, I scratched off a note to our runners, detailing the new findings. They're to watch Miranda as well.”

Tori nodded, unsure of what to say. It pained her to think of Ian out there alone, possibly hurt.

Grant slowed and faced her. “Victoria, listen to me. We will find Ian.” His tone was without doubt.

She remembered Lady Stanhope describing Grant before he went off to search for Tori's family. He'd said to her, “If they're out there, I
will
return with them.” Lady Stanhope had said she couldn't doubt it, though the odds were so against him. Now Tori knew what she meant. One look at Grant, so powerful and strong, his blue eyes clear, and worry lifted from her. They'd find Ian. Period.

“I believe you,” she answered as they began walking once more. Yet even with her worry relieved, she found they were in a strange situation, as if they had just completed some grand chore as a team, but now would go their separate ways.

“She's a terror.” Grant filled the silence.

“I agree,” she said, glad to talk about anything, even McClure. “But as much as she is odd and ambiguous and complicated, I think she has a woman's heart buried underneath those layers of ice. In fact, when I saw her I was worried you might like her.”

He stopped walking, looking affronted. “That is not my type.”

She turned to him. “I'm sorry, then.”

“No harm done.”

The conversation was getting awkward. Where did they go from here? What was he thinking after their night together? She knew what she was thinking—that it would be the first of many nights
if they could just live through this conversation
. She plucked at her skirts; he rocked on his heels.

“You must be eager to spend some of that money.”

“Oh, yes, especially after stinting—” She stopped. She didn't want to bring up any part of the last few weeks. That time was gone now, in the past. She whipped out a piece of paper from her skirt pocket and read. “I need to buy Cammy some fabric for new dresses—she's outgrown nearly everything—and Mrs. Huckabee a lighter bonnet.” Tori shook her head and exhaled. “She'll simply expire this summer in that quilted winter thing she always wears. And Mr. Huckabee needs a walking stick. Huck needs boots.” She turned the page over. “Oh, yes. I have his size here. And maybe a toy of some sort…”

She glanced up, aware that he was looking at her strangely. Her chin notched higher. “I can justify the expense—he works as hard as any of us and deserves a reward.”

He grinned. “I think you should bring Huck a legion of toys if that makes you happy. That wasn't what I was thinking about.”

She tilted her head and waited.

“So you've been taking note of what people need?”

“There was the possibility I could get a settlement. And someone once advised me on the importance of planning.”

His grin widened. “He must have been a remarkably intelligent man.” She chuckled, but then his expression became intent. “Victoria, I've been planning myself. My entire family will be at the town house before noon, as will Camellia and the baron if they make it in time.”

She frowned at him, at his…nervousness?

He began pacing. “I believe we can have a good life together. I want you to marry me. And rest assured that I will—”

“Yes, let's!”

“—keep asking till you say…” He trailed off. “What did you say?”

“I said yes.”

His brows drew together. “But I thought you wouldn't marry without love.”

She closed the distance between them and brushed her hands down his long arms. “Oh, you love me.”

“Quite sure of yourself?”

She gave him a saucy grin. “Quite sure of you after last night.”

He started to turn. “Then I suppose you don't need to hear it….”

She launched herself at him, putting her arms around his neck and pulling herself up to his chest, heedless of the people milling around them. “I can
always
hear that.”

He tenderly brushed a curl from her face. “I do love you. I think I love you more than is wholesome.” His tone was low and very solemn.

She knew without a doubt that this was the first time he'd said the words. She felt instinctively that it was the first time he'd been in love at all.

That affected her so much. She could forgive the time it had taken for him to realize his love, since he
was
cutting a new trail.

When she gazed up at him and sighed, he said, “And you? Don't leave me out here—”

“Of course I love you—I adore you. I think I always have, even when I would've liked to toss you overboard.” Then a thought fluttered through her mind. “Can we stay at the Court?”

“We can live wherever you wish.”

“I mean stay and run the sheep farm.”

“You need a sheep man. I'm your man.” He smiled that heartbreaking smile.

“What about Peregrine Shipping?”

“Nicole and Derek have it running smoothly. And if they want to focus on Whitestone, hell, we'll let Ian run it when we find him.”

She stared at him in amazement. Her sly grandfather had predicted this over a year ago and had counted on it when she'd returned. “You're ready for a life with me
and
a village of mostly octogenarians and more sheep than we can count—cheeky sheep at that—and a legion of redheaded Huckabees running about?”

“As long as you're there with me.”

“Really?” she asked breathlessly.

“Anything,” he said into her hair.

But she pushed him back, then stuck out her hand. “Partners?”

He took it.

Then she pulled him down, and rose on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “After we get this marriage settled, we need to seal our partnership. Again and again…”

G
rant's whole family was indeed at the town home, and Camellia and the baron dashed in just before the minister arrived. Cammy drew Tori aside while Grant was slapped on the back and congratulated by his family and the baron.

Cammy asked, “Are you certain you want to do this?”

“Look at me,” Tori said with a laugh. “I'm in love—I can't stop smiling!”

Cammy visibly relaxed. “Then I have to tell you, you're really going to enjoy married life.” Cammy held up her hand to display an intricately wrought wedding band encircled with diamonds.

Tori's jaw dropped. “You're married?” Cammy bit her lip, clearly worried how she'd react, but Tori gave her a hug. “Oh, how wonderful! You'll be our neighbor!”

“I thought you might be upset that we did it so suddenly.” She lowered her voice. “But the truth is, he wouldn't take me to bed again until I married him, that wretch. When I saw he wasn't jesting, I thought the sooner the better.”

“I'm so happy for you!”

Lady Stanhope coughed delicately to get their attention. “Then let's make Cammy happy for you as well, shall we? The minister is waiting.”

Grant took her gently by the hand and led her in front of the minister.

When asked for the ring, Grant patted his coat pockets. Everyone in the room seemed to get anxious. Derek groaned in the back and made some comment to Nicole about the beauty of eloping.

Finally, Grant pulled out a small box, covered with velvet. He took out the ring, ready to place it on her finger. Tori looked down; she couldn't help it. Any bride would want to know what she'd be wearing for the rest of her—

A small sob escaped her before she could yank her hand to her mouth.

 

I need that hand back,
Grant thought with alarm.
Or at least that ring finger
. In a shaky voice, he said, “Victoria, I can get you another one.”

“But y-you found my mother's ring.”

His eyes widened and his gaze flew down. He cursed under his breath. “That was supposed to be for later.”

A tear spilled down her cheek, and he could swear he felt her relief as his own. He brushed it away with his thumb.

“I can't believe you found it.” She finally took her eyes off the ring and gazed up at him with such love, such raw emotion in her eyes, he was staggered by it.

He took a deep breath, aware that he'd begun speaking, unaware of what he was saying as he looked down into her eyes. “It was more difficult than the other things, but I knew how much it meant to you.”

“The other things?” she asked absently.

Now he grinned. “Yes, I was running about the country trying to reacquire the Court's wrought iron, a score of very ancient paintings, one brass knocker, the horse I gave you”—he frowned down at her—“which I
know
was accidentally sold, and a collection of antique jewelry.”

“My grandmother's jewelry?”

The way she was smiling up at him, as if he were a hero, made him pull at his collar. “In for a penny…,” he mumbled.

Derek cleared his throat. “Grant, give her the other damn ring.” The minister eyed him sternly, and Nicole transferred a sleeping Geoff to her other arm so she could pop Derek in the stomach.

Grant patted more pockets and retrieved another small jewel box. He opened it for her, delighted with her reaction. Her mother's ring had made her cry with joy—the emerald made her gasp.

After their ceremony, everyone wished them well but cleared out soon after, the family wanting to give the newlyweds their privacy—or, in the case of Cammy and the baron, the other newlyweds wanting their own privacy.

Once Grant had shut the door on the last of them, he turned to his wife. His
wife
. He liked the sound of that. She was back to her confident self, beaming at him as if they'd just pulled off a coup. She'd let her hair fall from its conservative style and kicked off her shoes, running about in her stockings, and chattering happily. He was baffled that this remarkable woman had chosen him to marry, and humbled that she looked ecstatic about that fact.

Emotion threatened to swamp him. He intercepted her and clasped her to his chest, putting a hand behind her head and holding her tight. When he bent down to kiss her, she took his hand and pulled him across the parlor. Stepping up on an ottoman so that she was eye level with him, she looped her arms around his neck and kissed and nuzzled his face.

“I love you, Victoria.”

“Convince me,” she murmured against his lips.

That night and into the next day, Grant and Victoria “sealed their partnership” so many times and in so many ways, Grant knew it could never be broken.