Authors: Mary J. Putney
The Bargain (19 page)
He burst out laughing, his face boyish under the white hair. “No, I don't suppose I shall, not with you around to keep me from my rest.”
He bent his head to hers in a kiss that began in tenderness, and rapidly developed into a hunger of both body and soul. For a long, long time they stood in front of the window, making a spectacle of themselves for anyone who might be passing by in Harley Street. Dizzily it occurred to Sally that of course one would expect a doctor to kiss with great skill, since his knowledge of anatomy was profound.
She would have cheerfully gone upstairs to his rooms, but he finally released her, his white hair disordered where she had buried her fingers, and his breathing ragged. “I owe you a dinner, lass. Then we shall go to Cromarty House to break the news to your brother. I have no intention of asking his permission, because if he has any sense at all, he would refuse it.”
“He'll be glad to have me off his hands before I dwindle into a maiden aunt.” She fluttered her lashes outrageously, feeling giddy and desirable, because the man she loved also loved and desired her. “Shall I draw up a lineage chart for your mother's approval? I am not without respectable connections, and I'll have five hundred pounds a year.”
“The annuity is that much?” Ian asked with interest as he escorted her to the door. “If you'd told me you were a wealthy woman, I would have proposed earlier.”
“I proposed to you, remember? And don't worry, by the time I have your office in hand, you'll be making quite a good living. After all, aren't you the finest physician and surgeon in London?”
On the steps outside the door he stopped and brushed her cheek with the back of one strong hand. “Not the finest, perhaps,” he said, his voice very tender and Scottish. “But certainly the luckiest.”
Regardless of who might be watching, Miss Sarah Lancaster, former prim governess, pulled her fiancé's head down and kissed him with great thoroughness.
Chapter 21
D
avid felt as if he was living in an enchanted bubble, untroubled by the normal cares of the world. He and Jocelyn spent most of their waking hours together, and every day he wanted her more. After visiting the Physic Garden, they began making regular expeditions around London. They hadn't gone out together socially, though. It was easier not to have to explain their relationship.
avid felt as if he was living in an enchanted bubble, untroubled by the normal cares of the world. He and Jocelyn spent most of their waking hours together, and every day he wanted her more. After visiting the Physic Garden, they began making regular expeditions around London. They hadn't gone out together socially, though. It was easier not to have to explain their relationship.
The hard part was concealing his attraction. Jocelyn was a delightful companion, except on the few occasions he'd shown some sign of interest. Her withdrawal was always swift and complete. She tended to avoid even the most casual of touches, such as being helped from her carriage. Perhaps she sensed his desire and wanted no part of it.
But enchanted bubbles must eventually burst. It was mid-August and summer was at its heady best. All too soon the birds would be flying south, the beau monde would return to London, and Jocelyn would formally file for an annulment. Intuitively he felt that if he didn't change her mind by then, it would be too late. He would lose what he'd never truly had, despite her obvious pleasure in his company.
The day was warm, so they were lunching in the gazebo at the bottom of the garden. Both had brought books, and they might end up spending the entire afternoon with no more company than Isis, who sat with her paws demurely tucked in front of her, her gaze alert for any bird foolish enough to venture into her range.
“More coffee, David?”
“Please.”
He watched as she poured for each of them, wishing he could lean forward and kiss her graceful nape, visible under the casually twisted richness of her hair. As he recovered his strength, it was becoming increasingly difficult to conceal such thoughts.
Better to think about how Sally and Ian Kinlock had announced the news of their engagement. David had been amazed. How had Sally managed to fall in love and captivate an admirable husband under his very nose without him noticing?
Jocelyn hadn't been surprised, though. With a smile that reminded him of Isis, she'd ordered champagne, and they'd toasted the betrothal. He wouldn't have believed that the intense surgeon could ever be so relaxed, but clearly love had worked magic on both Sally and Ian. He'd been envious as well as genuinely pleased for the happy couple.
Pulling his gaze away from Jocelyn, he remarked, “Not only will Kinlock make Sally a worthy husband, but I keep thinking how convenient it will be to have a good doctor in the family.”
She laughed. “I've thought of that. May I borrow him if needed?”
He looked away at the reminder that Jocelyn didn't intend to remain part of the Lancaster family. His gaze fell on Dudley, who was approaching with a tall, serious-faced man who looked as if he might be something important in the City. The butler looked disapproving, but then, he usually did.
Reaching the gazebo, Dudley said, “Excuse me, Lady Jocelyn, but this person claims to have extremely urgent business with Major Lancaster.”
The fellow must have been persuasive to talk Dudley around. David studied the newcomer, but was sure they'd never met.
The man stepped forward and bowed. “Forgive me for disturbing you, but I have urgent business with Major Lancaster.” His intent gaze went to David. “You are the Honorable David Edward Lancaster, born at Westholme in the county of Hereford in 1783?”
David's neck prickled. Such a legalistic introduction did not bode well. “I am,” he said coolly. “Forgive my rudeness, but what business is it of yours?”
“Permit me to introduce myself. I am James Rowley. You may not remember my name, but the Rowleys have represented the Lancaster family in its legal affairs for three generations.”
He should have known the man was a lawyer. Struggling to control the anger that Rowley had triggered, David said tersely, “No doubt my brothers heard I was near death and sent you to confirm the happy event. You may inform them that they are out of luck. My health is now excellent, and I have no intention of gratifying them by dying any time soon. May I look forward to being ignored by them for another twenty years?”
Startled and uncomfortable, the lawyer protested, “That is not why I'm here. Indeed, I'm delighted to find you recovered”âRowley paused, then said with emphasisâ“Lord Presteyne.”
David went cold, as numb as when the lethal shell fragments had struck him down. On the other side of the table, Jocelyn gasped, her gaze going to his face as she recognized what had just been said.
After drawing a deep breath, he said, “You'd best sit down and explain yourself, Mr. Rowley.”
The lawyer stepped into the gazebo and took a chair, setting his leather portfolio on the floor. “It's a straightforward matter. Your three brothers are all dead without heirs, so for the last several weeks you have been the seventh Baron Presteyne.”
Unable to escape the belief that this was a jest in incredibly bad taste, David retorted, “All three of those brutes met their maker at once? Someone must have burned the house down with them in it.”
“It wasn't that melodramatic. Not quite.” The lawyer cleared his throat. “Your middle brother, Roger, drowned three years ago in a boating accident. Then this year, early in July, your other brothers, Wilfred and Timothy, engaged in a drunken brawl.” He glanced at Jocelyn, who was listening in fascination. “The cause is unimportant. They chose to duel on the South Lawn to settle the matter. Whatever their defects of character, both were excellent marksmen. Timothy was killed outright. Wilfred lingered for some days before succumbing.”
“Dare one hope that he suffered a great deal?” David said, unable to control his bitterness.
Eyes enormous, Jocelyn reached across the table to him. He caught her hand, holding on as if she was his lifeline. Perhaps she was, as he fought a flood of long-buried memories.
“You have every right to be furious. Your eldest brother in particular acted abominably when he evicted your mother, your sister, and you from Westholme. It was most unfortunate that your father did not make clearer provisions for his second family, but he was too trusting,” Rowley said soberly. “But that was in the past. They are dead, and you are alive. You are now the seventh Lord Presteyne, with all that implies.”
With effort, David masked his roiling emotions. “From what I remember of Wilfred, what's implied is a large number of debts. Will there be anything left after settling them? It would be just like him to gamble Westholme away.”
“The estate is encumbered, but not hopelessly so,” the lawyer replied. “The trustees, of whom I am one, would not allow your brother to mortgage the property as heavily as he would have liked.”
That was good news. Westholme had been in the family for over three centuries. It would have been bitterly ironic to inherit the title without the estate that had been the heart and soul of the Lancasters. Beginning to absorb the magnitude of the news, he said, “I don't suppose there's any money, but as long as the estate survives, there is hope.”
“I could not in conscience wish for your brothers' deaths, but I am most pleased that you have inherited,” Rowley said austerely. “I kept in touch with your mother after she left Westholme, and I followed your army career. You and your sister are cut from very different cloth than your half-brothers.”
“That's obvious,” Jocelyn said tartly. “Those brothers sound dreadful.”
“There was madness in their mother's family,” the lawyer said. “They were more than just disagreeable. I think they were mentally afflicted.”
David laid his left hand on the table, palm down. A thin white scar ran from wrist to finger, paralleled by several lighter scars. “Do you see those lines? Timothy cut them with an Italian stiletto he was very proud of. He said he would keep cutting until I said my mother was a whore. I was six years old.”
Jocelyn gasped, her horror and revulsion mirrored by the lawyer. “Did someone come along and stop him?” she asked.
“I fought as best I could, given that he was thirteen and easily twice my size. My chance of winning was nil, but the noise attracted two footmen, who separated us.”
“Was he punished?” Jocelyn's face was pale.
“Wilfred told him not to play childish pranks,” David said dryly.
“Childish pranks!”
David studied the scars, remembering the vicious pain, and the even more painful humiliation of the older boy's insults. “My father wasn't told. Neither my mother nor I wanted him to know how wicked his older sons were. It would have hurt him terribly.”
Rowley shook his head in amazement. “I had no idea the situation was so bad.”
“Sorry, I didn't mean to give you nightmares. It's ancient history. Mother and Sally and I were happy in our cottage, and grateful to be away from Westholme. It would have been impossible to stay after my father died.”
The lawyer leaned forward intently. “I can understand that you might not wish to return to the scene of so much unpleasantness, but Westholme needs you. The estate has been neglected, the tenants are demoralized. I'm here today not only to tell you of your inheritance, but to urge you to take control as soon as possible. When you do, the other trustees and I will release what money remains toward immediate improvements.”
David almost laughed. The lawyer seemed to think that he might want nothing to do with Westholme. Getting to his feet, he said, “You need have no fears on that head. It was my brothers I hated. Westholme” âhe hesitatedâ“Westholme I have always loved. Give me your direction, and I will call on you tomorrow to discuss the situation further. For today, I have quite enough to think about.”
Rowley stood and gave a rare smile. “On behalf of the tenants and employees of the Westholme estate, may I congratulate you on your new honors, Lord Presteyne?”
David smiled faintly and offered his hand. “You may.”
“Lady Presteyne.” The lawyer inclined his head to Jocelyn, then made his way up the garden path.
Struggling to absorb the enormity of what had happened, David resumed his seat, saying with an attempt at humor, “Now you know my guilty secret.”
“That for all of these years you were âhonorable' but hiding the fact? It didn't workâI knew you were honorable from the beginning.” Jocelyn laid her hand over his, her eyes intent. “How do you feel about this, David? You've just inherited a great many demanding responsibilities that you never expected.”
“You're right. It quite literally never occurred to me that I would ever inherit, not with three older brothers.” He smiled wryly. “I guess Wilfred and company have just disproved the old saying that only the good die young.”
“Either that, or it proves that sometimes divine justice takes a hand.” She looked thoughtful. “The morning you recovered from the opium withdrawal, I asked where you had been trying to go, and you said Hereford. Does that mean you'll be happy to return?”
“In spite of everything, I will,” he said quietly. “There is no lovelier place on God's green earth.”
Her smile was generous and full of understanding. “As I feel about Charlton.”
“Precisely.” He withdrew his hand as some of the repercussions of his inheritance struck him. “I'll have to go to Westholme soon to determine what needs to be done. Will you come with me? I suspect that you're more knowledgeable about land management than I, and I'd value your opinion.”
He held his breath as surprise, pleasure, and wariness rippled across her face. Was she uneasy about being with him on his property rather than in her own home, where all of the servants were loyal to her?
Making up her mind, she said, “I'd enjoy that.”
Before he could feel too pleased, she added, “Since we're supposed to appear properly married before I can file for the annulment, I'd better behave in a wifely way.”
Not as wifely as he'd like, alas. He stood. “I'll go break the news to Sally. It may be a while before the money is available, but she will eventually have the portion she should have inherited when my father died.” He hesitated, then said, “Would you mind terribly if I call on Richard alone? I know we had planned to go together, but there are some things I would like to discuss with him privately.”
She looked a little hurt, but covered her reaction with a sunny smile. “Of course not. Give him my best wishes. I do wish he had come here to convalesce from the operation. It would have been no trouble.”
“He had his reasons, I'm sure.” With a nod, he left the gazebo. In fact, Richard had said that a guest in the house might interfere with any relationship that might develop between David and Jocelyn. Though for all the progress David was making, Richard might as well have accepted Jocelyn's invitation.
Other books
Shattered Sun (The Sentinel Trilogy Book 3) by Michael Wallace
The Sun Down Motel by Simone St. James
Caroline Minuscule by Andrew Taylor
The Navy's Ghost (Bad Boys of Beta Squad) by Muir, Siobhan
Sudden Vacancies by James Kipling
Call of the Kiwi by Sarah Lark
The Raid: an Eden short story by Taylor, Keary
The Martian by Weir, Andy
The Past is a Foreign Country by Gianrico Carofiglio
Almost Mine by Winters, Eden
