When We Touch (4 page)

But then, there was no question that she had not suddenly fallen head over heels in love with the man seeking her hand.

“Lord Charles, I admit to a hesitation when this matter was first brought before me.” She smiled. It was a good smile. Practiced? Or was she a natural expert at seduction. “But now that we have met again, and I remember you . . . I haven't the least reservation!”

Jamie thought that Charles would leap out of his chair with joy. He prayed his uncle would commit no such indignity.

But Charles did stand. He rushed to her, remarkably agile suddenly for a man of his age, and upon a knee he took her hand.

“I will never let you regret this decision, my dear.”

She stared steadily at him. “I know I never will.”

Charles rose again, flustered. Jamie kept his eyes on Lady Maggie. If she shuddered, just slightly, she quickly recovered. And yet . . . her gaze slipped, just momentarily. And her eyes caught his. He must have been all but shooting venom through his own narrowed orbs, because something in her seemed to harden, and the quaking he had sensed became pure, angry conviction.

She gave him a smile that was pure fury, and pure challenge.
Yes, you think that I'm a harlot, selling out and counting my gold already. Good for you. There's not a damned thing you can do about it!

“I'm at a loss!” Charles said.

Stuttering fool!
Jamie thought, and was furious with himself, because Charles was as fine a person as a man could be, noble in truth.

“Well,” Jamie drawled slowly, his eyes on the soon-to-be blushing bride. “Arrangements must be made for the nuptials to take place. I would think sooner than later, wouldn't you, Uncle? You've both been wed before . . . the banns can be cried immediately, and within a matter of weeks, you can be man and wife.”

“Yes, yes . . . if that is agreeable with you, Maggie?”

He spoke her name with no title, as if he tested it, and did so with awe.

“My lord Charles, whatever you desire,” she said sweetly.

Jamie felt as if he had to get out. He was going to be sick.

He rose. “Well, then, we've a busy day ahead.”

“Wait, wait!” Charles said, lifting a hand. His eyes, however, never left the woman's face. “Would you prefer something more elaborate? Many weddings take time, invitations must be sent out, clothing purchased, arrangements made. And my daughter is in France, at the moment. Perhaps Lord Justin has special requests for the wedding?”

Justin looked haggard, and more than a little drained.
Hard to sit there and watch your sister prostitute herself, is it, my friend?

“I leave it all to Maggie,” Justin said quietly.

She was shaking her head. “There is no need for an elaborate ceremony.” She shot Jamie a glance. “As your nephew says, sir, we have both been married before.”

“Still, there is a certain propriety one must see to.”

“I think the lady is anxious,” Jamie said. “And why not, Charles? She seems to be a woman who knows her own mind, and her mind is set. The wedding should definitely take place with all haste!”

“Lord Charles, I am in agreement, and I accept your proposal, and leave all else to you. My brother and I are alone in our immediate family, and I'm certain that my uncle Angus will be more than happy to oblige his family to your convenience. Pray, sir, set whatever date you will, that fits in with all the propriety you wish.”

She stood, bringing them all to their feet. She cast Jamie a dripping smile. “Indeed, sir, I am anxious!”

“Then, Jamie, we shall see to the legal turn of events,” Charles said, still elated. “My dear!” Very tenderly, he kissed both Maggie's cheeks. Her eyes were downcast as he did so. She gave no sign that she was anything but pleased; not so much as a tremor stirred her body.

Charles strode toward the exit, then stopped, turning back. “Justin, Angus, my deepest thanks. We will meet later. And Maggie . . . I swear, lady, I will make you happy.”

He was gone. Clayton, as astute as he appeared to be, barely made it in time to open the door for his departure.

Jamie bowed his head to the two men. “Justin, Angus, I thank you as well. And Maggie, dear, dear Lady Maggie!”

Before she could snatch her hands away, he had caught them. He bowed low over them, this time keeping a grip hard on her, brushing her fingers firmly with a kiss. “It's a delight to make your acquaintance. Why, think on it. We've just met, and very nearly, we are cousins.”

“A pleasure,” she said, and it was obvious, in the grating sound that issued with the words, that it was anything but. Still, she was perfectly composed. He could feel the waves of angry heat washing off her, but she knew that her hands were caught, and she wasn't about to allow herself the indignity of a struggle with him. “Indeed. It's lovely to see that Lord Charles has such a staunch and loving relation to protect his interests. Tell me, do you reside with Charles?”

It was a question. It was a statement, as well.
If he resided with Charles at the moment, he certainly wouldn't be doing so after the wedding!

“No, alas, I do not. I keep a town house for those occasions when I am in London. Uncle Charles lives at Moorhaven, an estate just beyond London. He does, however, have rooms at the club, and he is, naturally, welcome in my home at all times.”

“Charming,” she murmured, attempting a tug at her hands. She looked smoothly toward the doorway. “I believe your uncle will be waiting.”

“Indeed. And I would not postpone your nuptials for an instant! Good day, my lady, good sirs!”

He released her hands at last. She almost managed not to snatch them back. Not quite. She loathed him. And whatever game they played before others, they both knew it. It mattered not in the least. He would be watching her. And if she betrayed her elderly husband in any way . . .

She would know that he was watching.

He didn't look back, but exited the house with long strides.

* * *

“How ghastly!” Maggie exclaimed.

“You're right. He's not just old. He's ancient,” Justin agreed. “Maggie, it's off. That's it.”

Maggie turned to stare at her brother. “I don't mean Charles—I mean the nephew. Sir James.”

“Jamie?” Justin said, surprised. “He's quite a fine chap, really. Always off on the Queen's business, here and there. He was in the military for a few years, but whatever he does now, the work is special projects. Empire, you know,” he said dryly.

By then, Mireau had made it down the stairs to join them. Clayton was surely listening from somewhere. He was the perfect servant, and as such, knew exactly what was going on in their lives at all times.

“What do you care about the nephew?” Mireau demanded. “Lord Charles is evidently quite smitten. Why, he'd give you the world.”

“Yes, I realize that,” Maggie murmured softly

Justin slumped down into one of the chairs. “I have just sold my sister. It's as if I have sold my very soul.”

“Justin, stop it, you didn't sell me, and you haven't sold your soul. I mean it, the old fellow is quite dear. I'm certain we'll get along swimmingly.”

“He's really not bad at all, for a man as old as Moses,” Mireau offered cheerfully.

Justin groaned again.

“Look, there's the point,” Maggie insisted. “He's far too elderly to . . . well, to expect the usual things from marriage.” She flushed despite herself. This was not a topic she cared to discuss with either her brother or Mireau. But she was practical as well, and hardly a blushing innocent. She had been passionately in love with Nathan.

“Does a man ever get that old?” Mireau asked Justin.

“I rather think not,” Justin said. He rose impatiently, coming to his sister. “Maggie, you must feel free to back out of this at any time. I am the one who got into the debt.”

“True,” Mireau reflected. “Jamie is the one who should get to marry the walking corpse.”

“Jacques!” They both exclaimed.

“Do excuse me, I'm only saying what we all know!”

“Once more, I'm telling you both that it will be quite fine. Lord Charles is not a ridiculous, stinking old lecher. He is a man of dignity. I'm quite convinced that he is seeking companionship, and I will be happy to be his friend, his very good friend, until the end. And I will pray that he has a long and happy life,” Maggie informed them.

Mireau and her brother exchanged looks.

She sighed deeply. “Honestly! He barely walks, barely moves.”

“It looked as if he walked quite fine to me,” Mireau commented.

She shook her head impatiently. Justin stared at her. “I repeat.You are free to back out of this, Maggie, until the very last moment, do you understand? I don't give a whit for what scandal we may create.” He almost smiled. “Might as well go to Newgate with a reputation!”

She stared back at her brother.
No, she was not going to back out! Because she would never see her uncle with Justin's title, the family title! Never!

“I know, Justin. I am decided. The marriage will take place.”

“She has a point,” Mireau said. “Imagine the woman Angus might find if he felt obliged to see that you were married off, Justin!”

“I shudder to think of it,” Maggie murmured dryly.

“How much worse could it be?”

“Let's just be glad that we will not have to find out. Now, listen to me, Justin, because you will be handling the arrangements, of course. I must have my own allowance. I intend to be a good wife, and I believe that he's a charitable and good man. But if I'm going through with this, I want to pursue some of my own interests,” Maggie said.

“Best not let Sir Jamie hear such sentiments,” Mireau said softly.

“Sir Jamie may fall in a lake and rot,” Maggie said sweetly.

“I'm aware that you merely wish to feed every wretched little street urchin in London,” Mireau said. “But come, Maggie, you must look at this from the eyes of the Viscount's family!”

“I did not seek out Lord Charles; Lord Charles came here. Justin, I intend to be kind to the man, loyal, and trustworthy in every fashion. But . . .” She hesitated. “Oh, good God, let's face it. I have just sold myself—you didn't do it, Justin, I did. But the point is that, ugly as it may be, this is a financial arrangement. And I expect you to see to my part of it.”

She wasn't sure what he said then. But he was very unhappy, and she knew it. He started to depart the room, but paused, slamming his hand flat against the wall.

For a moment he looked like a very old man himself.

Maggie rushed to her brother and turned him around to face her. “Justin, stop. Listen, this isn't a tragedy, and it isn't so horrible. I loved Nathan. I will never, ever love again. This will not be a bad life for me, do you understand? He can provide so much that I so desperately want. He is a decent and charming old fellow. I am well pleased with this arrangement, and it will please me greatly if you don't keep walking around as if you had signed over my eternal life to the devil.” She swung around, glaring at Mireau, who looked as if he had been about to speak. “Do you both understand? There will be no more pity, no more discussion, no more guilt. It is done, and that is that. I am happy.”

Justin straightened.

He made his way out of the room. This time, she heard the word he swore beneath his breath quite clearly.

“Bullshit!”

Once again, she swung on Mireau. “Not a word from you!”

His mouth had already opened. He snapped it shut. “I was just about to say . . . Congratulations!”

Maggie turned and fled up the stairs.

* * *

Three days later, Jamie reached the coast of France. Disembarking at Caan, he made short work of renting a horse, and riding the two hours inland to Arianna's school.

As any proper young lady in her position, she was being given an education in all the arts that would perfect her position as a young woman of great quality. She was taught how to walk, how to pour tea, how to converse in French without the least trace of an accent, how to sing, and how to play the piano.

Since she was definitely a free-spirited soul, and her father's beloved and much-spoiled child, she was also humored greatly, and therefore studied Latin, geometry, history, and the sciences as well. Jamie mused that her education was hardly a waste, for Arianna was a bright child, with an inquisitive mind, and a great intelligence. She also had a stubborn streak within her that stretched for acres.

He had sent ahead to say that he was coming; informing Arianna of the upcoming wedding had been his first priority after the legal machinations had been set in place. Talking Charles out of taking the taxing journey himself had not been easy, but in the end, Jamie had managed it. He was anxious to speak with his cousin himself and quickly—he didn't want her to hear about her father's intentions from another source.

Arianna met him in the drawing room of the elegant old palace where the girls were housed. She hugged him warmly as Sister Sara brought them together, her delight at seeing him childish, despite the fact that she was hardly a little girl anymore.

She was tall, with an elegant, sylph-like figure. Dark eyed, dark haired, with soft white skin so delicate in texture and appearance, she was almost ethereal. He was somewhat shocked to realize that his cousin was growing into an incredible beauty herself.
Charles had best take care in his own house,
Jamie thought.

Then he realized, he'd be the one calling men out in this lady's defense. Charles was beyond such a possibility.