The Bellerose Bargain (10 page)

The door to the cabin opened and Rodney entered carrying a dark blue satin jacket. Glittering buttons graced the breast and Geoffrey looked over his shoulder and glanced ruefully at the garment. Shirtless, unadorned, and riding the back of his ship, hard at work, was how he liked himself best. The pomp of court life grated on him.

"The tailor managed nicely on the short notice," Rodney offered.

"This is Charles’s idea of fun," Geoffrey grumbled. "He likes to watch his puppets dance about and prove their adoration of one another." He scowled into the mirror and adjusted the wig another time. "He’d have a jolly good time if he knew I was making the acquaintance of a tavern wench."

"His Majesty would enjoy that mightily," Rodney laughed. "And I think all the better for Charles if he knew. But no more of that," Rodney said, approaching with the coat. "I think it’ll be clear when you see her that she’s no longer a common serving maid."

"Clothes and manners help, but there’s no changing the person who wears them. I only pray she can convince the gossips, or I’ll be out to sea, but not with a fleet." He turned and shrugged into the jacket. Now there was a smile. "The building of the next ship is well under way—on my personal note."

"I’ve seen that for myself," Rodney returned. "I hope the building can be continued."

"And why wouldn’t it? The introduction is tonight, the betrothal will be announced and posted, and the marriage soon. Charles cannot sit on the land and taxes for long. The goods and workers will be paid for."

"Are you aware that Preston will be with you tonight?" Rodney asked.

Geoffrey chuckled at Rodney’s question. "His timing is so perfect I almost think he planned it this way. Blast the blackguard, he’s here purely to laugh at my foibles."

"He’s here on his father’s business," Rodney corrected.

"A ruse," Geoffrey insisted.

Preston Tilden, longtime friend to Geoffrey, had left England with the rest of his family during the Commonwealth to begin building a new life in the Americas. Letters he’d written to Seavers told of rough wilderness that had to be cleared, slaves that had to be bought for endless work, shortages of food and supplies, and various adventures the family had had. But the Tildens had prospered. Five sons and considerable money had procured a fine home on a large portion of Virginia soil. The family’s interests lay in mills and farming, shipping and badly needed trade to other countries. Geoffrey, too, had been offered a plot of this new and uncivilized land across the ocean, but had chosen to make his way in England. He envied Preston his early success, but knew that without the financial backing and numbers of family members that Preston had, he would still be chopping down trees.

Preston was the youngest of five sons. He and Geoffrey were nearly the same age, Preston being just two years younger than Geoffrey. Their fathers had been neighbors and longtime friends as well, and the families had been close for years.

Though Tilden ships arriving in port were not uncommon, Preston’s arrival was a complete surprise to Geoffrey. Rodney had carried the news earlier in the day that Preston himself commanded this Tilden vessel, and Geoffrey had to curb the urge to swim out to the approaching ship for the reunion. The sight of his friend waving from the bow brought back memories of adventures shared, loves fought over, and laughter that went late into ale-ridden nights. Having Preston near was the balm for Geoffrey’s anxiety over his dream of a fleet and his precarious betrothal.

When Preston arrived on the Patrina, he had wine and a block of cheese with him, bursting into the cabin with a loud laugh. "Behold, the groom," he goaded.

Geoffrey scowled and eyed Preston’s goods. "We can drink later, when this ordeal has ended."

Preston turned to Rodney. "He does not sound like a man in love, eh?"

"And you would know what a man in love sounds like?" Geoffrey asked before Rodney could answer.

Preston set the cheese and wine on the desk and spied the tray of untouched food sitting there. "Ah, this is more the rote." He grinned. "No appetite, surly mood...aye, perhaps there is hope for the man."

"I have not met the wench yet."

"Wench, is it. God’s bones, you’ll land in the gutter for that slur, should anyone hear."

"The lady," Geoffrey corrected. "I have not heard the best things about her. ‘Tis her dowry that is attractive to me."

"That’s a start," Preston conceded. "And whatever other troubles you find with her, work them out quietly and with care, lest some better-mannered knight takes her away from you."

"I’ve seen you practice your lessons well," Geoffrey laughed. "Remember the friend that rode and sailed with you—and watched you play the ladies and toss them away."

"Ah, but now I have a wife."

Geoffrey looked up in surprise. "A wife? What madness possessed you to take a wife so soon? Your family has money."

Preston laughed good-naturedly. "A pretty vixen crossed my path and schooled me in when to dally and when to make a contract. She would have none of these courtly games."

"And so you’re caught." Geoffrey smiled. "A family man at last."

"Indeed, a family man. Just as I prepared to leave, Brianna told me that she intends to present me with a child next summer. Our first."

Geoffrey extended his hand. "Then we’ll make time to raise a glass. To your dynasty."

Rodney looked around the cluttered cabin for cups, and wine was poured all around.

"I’m the last of my brothers to marry," Preston said. "And while the Tilden men are often bending their backs or out to sea, it has not kept the family small. We seem to have a knack for finding fertile women who grace my parents with new grandchildren yearly." He raised his cup and drank, sighing in appreciation. Geoffrey looked at his friend’s face. Fulfillment seemed to show there and envy presented itself again. "Another addition to the house will be needed, but then I laid brick and wood for my brother’s additions."

"You’ve acquired your fortune, Preston," Geoffrey said. "I wish I thought my future would bring as much."

Preston sighed deeply. "I hesitate to damage my reputation, but in all truth, wealth does not mean as much to me as it once did. Brianna has taught me something of the value of women that I did not know." He raised his glass as if in silent toast to her. "I wish you luck, friend. I hope your contract bodes as much."

"I doubt that is possible. While you look well enough for your bonds, being so tethered does not have any appeal for me." Geoffrey took a long pull on the wine, and his eyes glittered when he looked at his friend. "If she is not shrewish, I shall survive it, but I tell you, I see no great love brewing here. ‘Tis a profitable arrangement. That is all."

"Then enjoy your misery." Preston shrugged. "You seem most intent on it."

"My appraisal as well, sir," Rodney put in. "Though I think the boy spoiled and sullen. Lady Charlotte is lovely and kind."

Geoffrey only smirked. There was little about the maid that he disliked, but the idea that this could be a fulfilling arrangement had not occurred to him. He mentally counted his money and time. What Preston had acquired, his land, income, and family, was desirable to Geoffrey. This marriage scam would aid him in getting a start on a decent shipping enterprise, but it was another year out of his life, another temporary situation that he would have to see finished before he could settle himself to a decent family life with a wife and children. He felt a long way from having what Preston had.

"And to think," Preston mused, "had my younger sister survived the wars, she’d be a good match for you."

"The child who died when you were small?" Geoffrey asked.

"Aye, and I hope to uncover some of the mystery of her death. It was while my parents were having her spirited away to my aunt that she disappeared, and all efforts to find her failed. It was a dangerous time. All of England was at war with itself. She could not have survived."

Geoffrey became solemn. When his father and brother died, his mother and sister became his responsibility. A strong sense of failure overcame him whenever he thought of them, for they had died within a year of each other. His sister, Andrea, betrothed to the flamboyant courtier, Culver Perry, had died quite suddenly while riding. His mother became ill soon after Andrea’s death and, he reasoned, found little reason to go on—she had lost all of her family but Geoffrey.

"You’ve had a few years to recover from that loss," Geoffrey said with some bitterness.

"Aye, friend," Preston answered compassionately. "And on the eve that you’ll meet your bride it’s rude of me to bring up our sisters. Forgive me."

"Can you imagine who might have argued most heartily for the hand of Lady Charlotte?" Geoffrey asked his friend.

Preston noted the fury in Geoffrey’s eyes and knew from whence it came. "I had heard that Perry made his request for a rich bride well known. I am surprised he survived your wrath."

"I am certain he believed our family would have large sums and plentiful lands restored when he asked for Andrea’s hand in marriage. He courted her too well—but loved her too little." He downed the last of his wine and slammed the cup onto the desk. "I never saw his grief."

"Culver Perry cannot take anything from you now, Seavers," Preston said slyly. "Unless, of course, you foolishly leave unattended what is yours."

Geoffrey’s green eyes were sparked with hatred as he looked at his friend. "Should he give me the slightest excuse, I will kill him. I hate the man more than I allowed I could."

Geoffrey tugged on his jacket and took a breath, trying to still the emotion that seemed quickly to fill the room. Even Rodney moved away from the conversation a bit and Preston did not encourage any more expression. Geoffrey had lost too many that were dear to him. Had Perry at least suffered upon the death of his betrothed, Geoffrey might have been able to abide him, but he immediately began his courtship of any available dame at court, including old dowager baronesses whose ears were turned toward the flattery and whose purses were not yet empty.

"The oaf would marry the king’s mare, were she well saddled," Geoffrey said.

"The name Perry brings much attention in England, since his brother still has land and influence. But I understand there is no family love there and Perry can get nothing out of his brother’s fortune," Preston said. "And though I have no respect for the man, it would do you well to remember that he is handsome and suave. Take care that he does not easily usurp what you already consider yours."

"He will not," Geoffrey promised. "This once I believe I’ve outwitted him. Lady Charlotte will marry me."

The galleries in Whitehall were chilled and dark, the drafts causing draperies and tapestries to shiver. Lord Seavers and Preston Tilden set a good pace along the corridors and through halls to the apartments of Lady Castlemaine, Barbara Palmer. They walked in silence, with only the sound of their heavy and hurried footfalls echoing in the passageways.

Lady Castlemaine would immediately recognize Seavers, for she had, a time or two, flirted with him. There was no reason to assume that she was interested beyond an innocent affair, for it was acknowledged that she was the king’s, and one did not toy with the king’s mistress. Yet Seavers had willingly accepted her attentions as a compliment and recognized that it did not hurt his case with King Charles to be in Castlemaine’s good favor. And no one, least of all Geoffrey, was surprised to see that Barbara Palmer hostessed the affair that would present Lady Charlotte to Lord Seavers.

Lady Castlemaine utilized her liaison with Charles to secure for herself fine furnishings for the large living quarters she inhabited. Gifts to her from those seeking favor with the king decorated her walls and tables, and jewels from her admirers sparkled on her throat and wrists. Preston and Geoffrey were admitted and announced by a servant, but it was only moments before Barbara glided toward them with a greeting on her lips. Her hand briefly touched a pendant that she wore about her neck: a cluster of small diamonds gleaming around a sapphire. Geoffrey smiled, but a small flush threatened to mar his rugged appearance. He had given the pendant as a gift and assumed it would be lost among the many richer tokens she had acquired. Obviously she wore it and drew his eyes to it with her hand to establish their alliance.

Seavers was not as well practiced with the ladies as many seemed to believe, and in fact, aggressive women, like Barbara, caused his stomach to churn. As luck would have it, his habit of drawing back within himself and giving little or no recognition to the many flirtations only made him that much more desirable to the women. No one seemed to be aware of his shyness. His aloof manner drew them like flies to honey.

He steadied himself internally, not at all sure he could handle the situation to his satisfaction. If there was a woman alive who could paint him into a corner, it was Castlemaine.

"My lords," she purred, lowering herself into a bow that threatened to spill her round breasts out of her gown. The fact that she was with child did not detract from her sensuality. Both men took mental note that Charles did indeed have exquisite taste in women.

Geoffrey extended his hand to take hers. "Lady Castlemaine," he said, his voice smooth and controlled. For all appearances they were old friends delighting in the reacquaintance. He kissed the back of her hand and, upon raising his head, found her eyes glued to Preston. "Allow me to introduce Preston Tilden, lately arriving in London. Preston’s father, Lord Tilden, has made his home in Virginia of the Americas and Preston is in the business of trade."