School For Heiresses 2- Only a Duke Will Do (9 page)

Regina clapped her hands together. “I quite forgot. One of Grandfather Monteith’s investments was a paint factory in Leeds. He left it to Simon.”

“Every year London toymakers carve thousands of toy carts, soldiers, even Noah’s arks with animals.”

Simon leaned forward, enthusiasm tinting his tanned cheeks a ruddy hue. “There’s still a few months before Christmas. If you were to partner with white-wood carvers—”

“White-wood?” Eliza chirped.

“Pine,” Louisa explained, surprised that Simon even knew the term.

“You could have the ladies paint toys,” Simon went on. “And if you sell them at Christmas, you will make very good money.”

Grudgingly, Louisa conceded that it was a good idea. She began to list strategies for carrying it out. “We’

ll have to find the carvers and someone to transport the paint and train the women—”

An object thunked on the table in front of her. Startled, she looked up to find that Raji had walked across to set his canary before her. “Sorry, Raji,” she said, “but if we take on this project, we’ll need new carvings to paint.”

When he cocked his head as if listening to her, everyone at the table laughed. Then he leaped into her lap.

“Oh!” she exclaimed as he caught hold of her bodice. When she closed her arms about the dear creature, he curled up with a contented sigh. “For heaven’s sake, what’s this about?”

“Apparently he likes you,” Simon said, his voice a low rumble. “And Raji is very particular. Ever since his previous owner died, he’s been wary of women.”

“Isn’t that adorable?” Eliza breathed. “He thinks you’re her or something.”

A lump filled Louisa’s throat as she stroked the monkey’s fur. “Don’t be silly. He just hopes to coax a cup of punch out of me.” But secretly she was touched. She didn’t bother to examine why too closely. Nor did she meet Simon’s gaze, afraid of what she might see there. “Now where were we?”

“Mrs. Harris’s committee will head up a project to have the ladies paint toys.” Regina tapped a pencil on the table. “But we’ll have to take care around the children, so they don’t eat the paint.”

“There are children in Newgate?” A frown marred Simon’s fine high brow.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Mrs. Harris said, her expression grim. “The policy is to imprison the youngest with their mothers. Newgate alone contains two hundred eighty seven women and one hundred thirteen children under six, locked up with murderers and highwaymen.”

Louisa well remembered her outrage when she’d first seen the pitifully underfed, naked urchins, forced to witness their mothers selling themselves to gain food and clothes for their poor mites. Thank heaven the Association and the London Ladies had improved matters. But not enough; not yet. She cradled Raji closer. “They even deliver babies in there. Can you imagine? With only one doctor, we have to fight to keep the women from dying of childbed fever or pouring out their life’s blood—”

“Louisa, dear, you’ve made your point,” Mrs. Harris broke in, with a glance ’round at her pupils. They stared at Louisa wide-eyed, clearly never having thought about the perils of childbirth. Simon was watching her, too, a silent question in his eyes. And the last person to whom she wanted to reveal her darkest fear was him.

“That’s why we must have the funds,” she said quickly. “If not for the women, then for our children.” A smile touched her lips. “They deserve toys, too.” She glanced at Mrs. Harris. “Make sure you include that in the project.”

“I hate to interrupt, Miss North, but you and I must still visit the Trusbuts.” Simon glanced at his watch. “

And it’s already three-thirty.”

Mrs. Harris made a shooing gesture at Louisa. “Go, go. Lady Trusbut is too important to ignore. We can discuss the candidates further on Tuesday.”

Simon had already risen to round the table. “What’s happening Tuesday?”

Louisa rose, too. “That’s when we—” She halted as a devious idea struck her. “That’s when you really ought to come observe us. And if you want to help, you can bring your coach and any other equipage you can spare.”

“Now, Louisa,” Regina warned, “I doubt that my brother would want—”

“He said he wished to observe, didn’t he? And how better to observe than from his own carriage? Besides, we could use the extra rigs.”

“We certainly could,” Mrs. Harris said with mischief in her voice.

“For what?” Simon looked decidedly wary.

Louisa smiled. “Time to leave, don’t you think? Although the Trusbut manor isn’t far, the hour is getting late. If we’re to return before dark—”

“Fine.” Simon scooped up Raji’s toy canary from where it lay on the table. “But I expect you to explain on the way why you want my carriages.”

He gestured to the door and she hurried out, her smile broadening with every step. If this didn’t discourage him from whatever sly scheme he was engaged in with them, nothing would.
Chapter Seven

Dear Cousin,

Foxmoor’s love of dancing must have improved, for he’s shamelessly pursuing Louisa. He even agreed to help the London Ladies, which worries me. Because if ever a man could spell danger for our political aims, it is the duke.

Your concerned friend,

Charlotte

S imon seethed as he and Raji waited for Louisa outside Mrs. Harris’s office. The damned chit had refused to see him all week, only to trick him into agreeing to observe the wrong committee once he’d finally cornered her.

She thought to make him relinquish his pursuit, did she? Very well, he would let her have her head, but only for a while. Because to deal with her political dabbling, he must know how far it went, which meant getting close to her. Besides, courting a woman was damned hard when the woman made herself inaccessible.

At least he had her for this jaunt, and for Tuesday’s, as well. He frowned. No doubt she had invented some new test with this business of needing his carriages.

“Ready?” she asked as she emerged from Mrs. Harris’s office, wearing a peculiar sealskin hat and a snug little white spencer.

He sucked in a breath. How did the bloody female manage to look so enticing in such prim attire? During his time in India, he’d seen a hundred devadasis in alluring saris, yet none of them had looked as enchanting as Louisa in a buttoned-up spencer. None of them had made his blood run hot with wondering about the silky female curves beneath the satin—

“Simon?” she asked, her cheeks pinkening fetchingly beneath his lustful gaze.

“Yes. Ready. Right.” Deuce take his vivid imagination. Pray God she stopped resisting him soon, or she would reduce him to begging.

They headed out to his waiting phaeton. Since he preferred to drive and Raji enjoyed riding on the perch, he handed his pet off to his tiger. Moments later, he had his matched bays comfortably trotting along the road back to London.

Glancing over, he noticed that Louisa sat prim and erect, the very picture of his sister at her loftiest. Except that the smile playing about Louisa’s pretty mouth was too mischievous for Regina. And too damned tempting by far.

He jerked his attention back to the road before he indulged his urge to ravage that sumptuous mouth out here in plain view of the world. “Why do you want carriages Tuesday?” he snapped, to take his mind off her lips.

“We need to transport some convict women a short distance, that’s all.”

Then why was she smiling so smugly? “Isn’t transportation the prison’s responsibility?”

“Yes, but they usually put them in open carts, and we don’t want that because—” Her smile vanished. “

Well, it’s just not wise.”

“Let me guess—shackled prisoners in open carts invite public attention. Which means the women are subjected to taunts and insults.”

“And mauled by unfeeling men.” Her voice grew impassioned. “And pelted by rotten tomatoes and eggs and—” She stopped short as she realized how much she’d revealed. “Anyway, we figured private carriages would be better than carts.”

“I’m sure you did,” he said irritably. “Especially my private carriages. Why subject your own carriages to the whims of a rowdy mob when it would be more entertaining to subject mine?”

“We’re not asking you to do anything we’re not doing ourselves.” She flashed him a challenging glare. “

You did say you wanted to observe.”

“Yes, I did.” And the minx had leapt at the chance to torment him for it. “But much as I enjoy the occasional run through rotten vegetables, I would rather provide coaches more suitable to your purposes.

”

She sniffed. “If you’re suggesting hackneys, we tried that. They won’t rent to us at any price. Not for this.”

Yet the troublemaking wench was eager to have him expose his own costly rigs to abuse. “Hackney owners will take a risk if given the proper incentive. Like assurances from a duke that their losses will be covered.”

Good thing he had a fortune to spare. Otherwise, convincing his skeptical future wife to trust him would eventually drive him into penury.

When she said nothing, he added, “Will that do the trick? Or are you determined to see my carriages ravaged by the mob?”

“This isn’t a joke,” she said. “Our group is serious about gaining humane treatment for these women.”

“Not serious enough.” He still chafed at how she’d manipulated him earlier. “Otherwise you would not refuse to make use of my considerable talents where it would do you the most good.”

“Stop trying to provoke me into involving you in our political affairs.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I know that observing us isn’t really your aim.”

“It is certainly not my only aim,” he muttered.

“What do you mean?”

He hesitated, but it was best to be honest where he could. Honesty had always carried him further with her than deception.

This entire courtship is a deception, his grandfather’s voice sneered. And you call me a hypocrite? Simon gritted his teeth. It was not a deception—he fully intended to marry her. He was simply hiding his reasons for it because it was the only way to gain what was best for everyone—her included. “Surely what I want is obvious. I want to be with you, Louisa.”

She eyed him askance. “Why? Did the king say something to you? He keeps going on and on about my activities—”

“It has nothing to do with the king,” he snapped, then regretted the blatant falsehood. But Christ, she drove him to it sometimes. “You are the most suspicious female I have ever met. God forbid a man should try to court you—”

“Court me!” Her musical laughter grated on him. “Court me? Fancy that.”

“Not the most flattering response,” he grumbled.

“No, no, forgive me, I’m flattered, indeed I am.” Her shoulders shook with laughter, and she clasped her gloved hands together tightly.

“I can tell how flattered you are. You’re practically swooning.”

She shot him a mischievous glance. “Would you like to see me swoon?”

“I would like to see you take me seriously. Because this time I have every intention of winning you.”

Her eyes darkened. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I—” He caught himself too late.

“Didn’t mean it?” she finished, an arch smile on her lips. “I seem to recall that you said it without meaning it easily enough the first time.”

His temper flared. “Things have changed since then. I have changed.” More than she realized, even if he still had an ulterior motive for courting her.

“You aren’t the only one.” She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself as much as him. “That’s why there’s no point to your courting me. I am no longer the naïve little fool who lapped up your every word.”

“You were never a fool.” He tensed, but could see no way around having this discussion. They clearly couldn’t go further without it.

Between Raji’s excited chattering and the raised phaeton hood, Simon’s tiger could probably not hear them. But just in case, Simon lowered his voice. “I was the fool, Louisa. I thought I could do what the king asked without hurting anyone.” His tone grew acid. “Unfortunately, I have an annoying tendency to press far beyond the point when another man would call a retreat.”

“Really?” she said coldly. “Do tell.”

“I didn’t mean to say what I did, I swear.” His hands clenching the reins, he stared at the macadam road. “That night when you told me I mustn’t see you again until you came of age, I saw my plans crumbling. The words just came out—”

He halted, realizing how feeble it sounded. Yet it was true. Desperate to keep from losing the king’s influence, he had spoken the fateful words that had changed his life forever: Run away with me. I love you. Marry me.

A second later, he had regretted them. Even in the throes of his youthful ambition, he’d realized he’d gone too far. But he still had not taken them back.

And when her face had lit up and she had said yes, kissing her had seemed perfectly natural. Especially when he had dreamed of it for weeks, had thought of it in the night, had burned to touch her—

“The point is, sir,” Louisa said, “I don’t care anymore if you’ve changed. I don’t intend to marry anyone ever. Neither you nor any other man.”

He refused to believe her. His sister had professed the same desire until she had succumbed to Draker’s advances. So if Louisa meant to drive him off, she would have to do better. “Say what you will, you are not the sort of woman to—”

“Dedicate her life to a cause?”

“Give up men. You are too passionate to endure life as a spinster.”

“Just because I melted into a puddle when you kissed me seven years ago—”

“And four nights ago,” he growled.

“I told you, that was an experiment. It didn’t mean anything.”

He eyed her askance. “And that is why you avoid me.” His sarcasm thickened. “That is why today you were headed off to hide—”

“I wasn’t!” With a furtive glance behind her, she lowered her voice. “My cause is just more important than you or me or what once happened between us.”

But a pretty blush stained her cheeks and her hands trembled, which sent a surge of triumph through him.

“Prove it.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Prove that your cause is more bloody important than anything else. Let me advise your committee. You know very well I can be invaluable to you. And don’t give me that rot about not trusting me. If I wanted to ferret out your secrets, I would. But give me a chance, and I can be very useful in helping you navigate political waters. I want to be useful to you.”