The Bargain Bride (35 page)

Penny did not wait for the attack. She went on the offensive, instead. “I suppose you heard the rumors. You do not trust me.”

He was quick to return: “You did not trust me when I said I parted company with Maeve long before our wedding. Nor did you trust me to arrive in time for the ball, if at all. I saw the surprise in your eyes. And you did not tell my valet to lay out my evening wear, which delayed me further.”

“Further? You only made the beginning of the ball by minutes.”

“While you had nearly two weeks to make a byword of yourself.”

Penny started to close the door on him. “I refuse to speak of matters if your mind is already made up.”

He put his foot in the door to keep it open. “Blast it, my mind is so muddied I do not know what I think. I needed the last hour to compose myself enough not to tear the house apart. No, not you, so stop looking at me as if I had a horse whip in my hand. Thunderation, are you going to invite me in or are we going to wake up the household again?”

She stood back, reluctantly. He seemed larger and darker without his ready smile and easy charm. She ignored his words and put her dressing-table chair between them.

“None of it is true,” was all she said.

“I do not know what
it
is, dash it.” West reached out to touch her, then obviously thought better of it. He stroked one of his yellow roses, which were placed on the mantel in a porcelain vase, between two Stafford shire dogs.

Penny wanted to go to him. He should be stroking her skin, not a rose. But she could not give up Nicky's part, and she could not name Nigel. West looked ready to issue a challenge here and now. “You shall have to trust me.”

“As I trusted you to handle your moneys yourself? I could have fought to have control of everything you own. A husband has that right, you know. Instead I let you keep your savings for yourself. Now I find out that you have closed your accounts. Without consulting me. I have no idea where you spent the money, and cannot like it.”

“You were gone. Furthermore, I did not need your permission to spend it as I saw fit, as we agreed before we wed.”

But West needed some of that money, which put him in a worse mood, if possible. “I gave you that right, not thinking you would abuse it. Or my good name. What, did you pay off your lover? The tittle-tattle has Nigel with a check in your name. Is that why you wanted him gone tonight, before I tore him limb from limb?”

“How dare you! Who knows where you have been for a fortnight? Yet when you finally come home, you accuse me, instead of apologizing for your mistress on my doorstep!”

“For the last time, she is not my mistress.” He took a step closer, leaning on the chair in front of her. “Now tell me what has been going on.”

“I did tell you, none of it is true.”

“You never wrote a check to Entwhistle?”

“Well, that is mostly true. But he never got the money.”

“You never called at his house when you knew no one else was home?”

She bit her lip. “Well, I was not thinking about where the family might be. And no, I shall not tell you why I went. I doubt you would believe anything I say. And isn't it odd, don't you think, how you asked first about the money, then about my call on Nigel? I wonder which is more important to you.”

He looked at her with sorrow. “If you still think I wed you for your money, then I suppose there is nothing left to say. Good night.”

She slammed the door behind him. She'd already said too much.

West could have kicked himself for not saying enough. Instead he kicked the door, and mumbled, “I love you.”

The door snapped open. “What did you say?”

“I said I love you, damn it.”

Which were the only words Penny wanted to hear. In a heartbeat she was in his arms, weeping. “I love you, too. Oh, West, I would never look at another man. You have to know that.”

With her in his embrace, nothing else mattered. He held her like he would never let go. “I do know it, just as I would never want another female.”

“And I moved the money into an account with both our names, so Nigel could not get his hands on any of it.”

“Both our names?”

“The bank manager said I could. So you can use it whenever you need. I have other investments in the funds, which I left in case I am destitute in my old age, but you will be there with me then, too, won't you?”

“Forever,” he said between kisses. “And I don't require a lot of cash, I swear. And I will put it back for our children.”

“There is a lot of money.”

“Then we better get started on the children.”

Her nightgown got in the way. Penny was wearing the new white satin negligee, the one strategically trimmed with fluff and feathers. A feather got in his mouth when he kissed her neck. One went up his nose when he kissed her breast.

“Damn, I am tempted to toss the blasted thing out the window, to see if it flies,” he said, coughing and sneezing and pulling the fabric over her head. Penny held her arms up to help, then went back to tearing his clothes apart to get to his skin.

She laughed as she threw his cravat on the floor, atop her nightgown. “I thought you would like it. I bought it as a gift for you.”

He pushed her hands aside so he could kiss her naked body, without choking on a feather. When he reached her navel, he whispered, “You are the only present I need, past, present, and future.”

She was trembling now, her legs going watery in anticipation as his kisses went lower. “But . . . but there are twelve others.”

“One for every year of our betrothal?” he asked, his lips poised above the tight gold curls between her legs.

“No, one for every year I have loved you.”

“I will have to think of thirteen ways to show my gratitude.” He lowered his mouth. But he could not get past the first way. “I can't wait, sweetings.” He did not even finish removing all his clothes. He kicked his shoes aside, ripping at his buttons, then carried Penny to the bed, and filled her with two weeks' worth of wanting. “Sorry, so sorry,” he apologized for hurrying ahead and leaving her behind. “I'll . . . make it up to you . . . next time.”

That was a bit more eagerness than Penny had bargained for. “How soon until next time?”

“Soon,” he answered, rolling off her, pulling her against him, one arm possessively cradling her breast, one of his legs over hers, so she could not move.

She had no place she'd rather be. Penny felt as full as when he was inside her, part of her. This time her heart was full of love. “We'll straighten everything out in the morning—your brother, Nigel, Lady Greenlea, the money, all right?”

“Hmm?” He was almost asleep. “Sorry.”

“Don't be,” she whispered. “I have everything I need right here in my arms.”

—By Arrangement,
a chronicle of arranged marriages, by G. E. Felber

 

 

 

W
est was still asleep after his hard, fast ride. The trip from Westfield must have been exhausting, too, because Penny could not wake him in the morning. She tried with a kiss. Then she whispered “I love you” in his ear. He rolled over. She stroked the hard planes of his back, and he mumbled something into his pillow that may have been “love, too” or may have been “later.” A pinch to his derriere did not do it, nor a poke to his ribs.

So much for a lusty start to the day. Reformed rakes might be all well and good, but this one was not good for anything in the morning, it seemed. Penny gave up and got out of bed. She was starving, and not merely for West's lovemaking. Her stomach had been in knots for the last two days, and she had not been able to eat a bite at the ball, either. So she dressed as quietly as she could, although she need not have made the effort, for West did not stir. Then she went down to the morning parlor, where breakfast was served.

Nicky was the only one there. Nicky, at breakfast? She looked to make sure he hadn't just come home, but, no, he was wearing fresh clothes and his hair was still wet from his morning wash. He rubbed at the garnet ring back on his finger.

Penny wanted to eat in a hurry and then get back to her husband, who ought to be awake soon, even if she had to pour water over his head. She wanted to show him his other gifts and talk to him about his black eye, and the black marks on her reputation. Mostly she wanted to hear him say “I love you” again. But Nicky needed her advice.

“Sir Gaspar says he will help me make something of my life. Do you think I have to wait to ask Mavis to share it?”

“Mavis?”

He nodded. “She makes me laugh, and she don't lecture a fellow. We both like London and parties. What do you think?”

Penny spread jam on her toast while she considered her answer. Nicky was looking at her with great expectation of hearing the opinion that matched his enthusiasm, as if pearls of wisdom would drop from her mouth, instead of toast crumbs. Penny supposed she should feel honored that Nicky trusted her with his confidence and accepted her as an older sister, especially after she'd solved his problems with Nigel. What she knew of marriage and courtship, however, could fit on her teaspoon, with room for the tea. So she chewed her toast carefully while Nicky sat on the edge of his chair, waiting.

Well, she thought, she and West had started off with far less in common, and neither Mavis nor Nicky seemed as immature and pampered as they had once had, but gracious, marriage was more complicated than sharing jokes and dances.

“Well? Must I wait until I have made my fortune? That could take years, and might never happen. Mavis could find another suitor. You saw how popular she was with the fellows last night.”

Or he might find another young lady he liked better. Heavens, there was more to matchmaking than she supposed, like being responsible for the future happiness of two people she cared about. Penny reached for the dish of eggs.

Nicky pulled the bowl out of her reach. “Tell me what you think.”

Penny thought she was still hungry, and West might know better what to tell his brother. But West was sleeping, dash it, and Nicky was hoarding the eggs. “I think . . . yes, I think you should ask Mavis what she wants.”

He leaped up, shoved the eggs in Penny's direction, and kissed her cheek. “I knew you would have good advice! West married himself a real winner.” He rushed past Lady Bainbridge on his way out.

Lady Bainbridge did not seem to notice Nicky's rudeness, or the platters of food standing on the sideboard. She sat down and waited until Mr. Parker poured her a cup of chocolate and left, then said she needed Penny's blessings.

“That is, if you do not think I am too old to wed?”

Penny set her fork down with a clatter. Had there been something in the punch last night? “I . . . I do not think anyone is ever too old. Do you wish to marry?”

Lady Bainbridge stirred her chocolate without drinking any, studying the swirls and her own daydreams. “I think I do.”

“Mr. Cottsworth, I assume?”

“Hmm.” The older woman smiled and went back to stirring.

“Does he feel the same?”

“Oh, yes. He says he does not care that I cannot give him children, that he has nieces and nephews aplenty. And then I can hope to spoil your babes when you have them.”

Penny looked at the watch pinned to her gown. There were not going to be any infants, not at this rate. “Of course. I expect you to be godmother to my first child.”

“Thank you. And Michael says I can help his career, since he wishes to rise in political circles.”

“You will make an excellent hostess for a diplomat or a government official. Even better, you will enjoy that kind of life.”

Lady Bainbridge leaned closer to Penny, her figured shawl in danger of knocking over the pitcher of cream. “That's what I always wanted, you know,” she confided.

“And a home of my own. Michael wants to show me his town house this morning, unless you need me?”

Penny shook her head no. She needed time with her husband.

Lady Bainbridge was going on. “I thought we would wait until the end of the Season. You will have those stepsisters fired off nicely. One is already betrothed.”

“Two, actually, or nearly so.”

“How lovely. Then you will not be needing my services all the sooner, especially with your husband home, and after your grand success last night. Michael's brother has an estate in Ireland where we might honeymoon. If you don't mind.”

Penny helped herself to bacon. “I am delighted for you. Just think, no more pesky debutantes to lead through the Season.”

Lady Bainbridge took a sip of her chocolate, which was cold by now, from all her stirring. “No more guarding a young lady's virtue, when she is eager to waltz down the primrose path.”

Penny was eager to get back upstairs, but she was honestly happy for her friend, and got into the spirit of the thing. “No more amateur musicales or practice dance sessions.”

Lady Bainbridge turned serious. “No more worrying about my future.”

“But I told you, you would always have a place with us.”

“Thank you, my dear. But that's not the same as having a home of one's own, or financial security. No more counting every farthing.” Then Lady Bainbridge giggled like a schoolgirl and added, “No more empty beds.”