With His Ring (Brides of Bath Book 2) (18 page)

"She's got a point there," Appleton
said.

Despite their childishness, Gregory was
getting into this. "What about Jefferson?" he asked.

"He's far too handsome," Glee said. "What's
needed is a man who thinks he is much more worthy than he actually
is."

"Sounds like Jefferson to me," Gregory
mumbled as he watched his wife's back. And the backs of the two men
at either side of her. Anger swelled within him. Why did his wife
have to find Jefferson handsome? Gregory's hands coiled into
fists.

"What about Thornton?" Melvin asked.

Gregory's vision shifted to Melvin, who
walked beside him. A very good idea. Thornton was a pompous,
arrogant ass.

"He'd be perfect!" Appleton exclaimed.

So it was settled. Next Tuesday, Miss
Aggremont would receive a note supposedly from Mr. Thornton, who
begged a private meeting with her. The two of them, Gregory
thought, heartily deserved to be made a laughing stock.

"Where are we going?" Melvin asked.

"I want you to see my new phaeton," Glee
said. "Timothy helped me select it."

"Blanks didn't object?" Elvin asked.

Blanks spoke in an even voice devoid of
emotion. "I was
not
overjoyed."

"In the future I will consult my husband
before making any out-of-the-ordinary purchases," she said.

Gregory's insides collapsed. She hadn't
really got the point of his anger.

She turned her head and smiled at him.
"Blanks, dear, would you object if I have my phaeton painted bright
red?"

A red phaeton! What would the minx think of
next? "So long as you don't wear the red dress when you ride in
it," he answered with a calm he was far from feeling.

"I cannot understand why you dislike that
dress so much. I've received any number of compliments on it."

Gregory mumbled an unintelligible
retort.

When they reached the phaeton, Gregory
tossed Archie two crown and happily watched the boy's face
brighten. "I've a mind to hire you to come work in my stable,"
Gregory said to the boy.

A wistful look crossed the lad's face. "I
can't leave me mum."

"But your mother could enter into service at
our house, too, and the both of you would have your own room and
board furnished," Glee said.

The boy shook his head. "Me mum's happy
where she is."

Not only during the drive back to Queen
Square but throughout the rest of the day, Gregory pictured the
wistful expression that had come over Archie's face when he offered
the lad a groom's job. What compelled the lad to refuse an offer
that would improve his—and his mother's—life?

Chapter 15

The trio came to dinner that night, and
silliness prevailed. But Gregory's low spirits prevented him from
joining his wife and friends in their levity. He did not at all
approve of his wife's familiarity with his friends. Nor did he
approve of the encouragement she gave their schemes. She was far
too enamored of pranks for a married woman. The whole lot of them
had no more maturity than young Archibald.

But it was Archie himself who caused Gregory
the most consternation. The lad had fairly shot down Gregory's
hopes by refusing to come into Blankenship service. Why had the
blasted lad refused? Gregory had been smugly content the boy would
come under his protection, and he would never again have to put
himself out for or to worry about the lad. The boy himself
obviously had no desire for security. Damn him.

Archie, unfortunately, had other
allegiances. And Gregory meant to uncover the wherefore of
them.

The following morning he went to Willowby's
office on the pretext of having the solicitor look over some
leases. Once again, there was no sign of the lad.

To Willowby's clerk, Gregory asked, "You
procured the shoes and coat for the wretched lad, I see."

The clerk looked up at him, grinning
broadly. "His mum was very grateful."

"Did you tell them . . ."

"I said the benefactor was one of Mr.
Willowby's wealthy clients."

Gregory nodded. "I got the impression
they—mother and son—were extremely poor. Do you know if they've got
permanent lodgings?"

"Couldn't say, sir," the clerk responded as
he shuffled papers around his desk. "Though it grieves me to say
it, the pair of them look to emerge from the gutter half the
time."

Gregory winced. "I'm particularly interested
in facts about the boy—if you should learn anything."

The clerk looked up from his papers. "Yes,
of course, Mr. Blankenship."

Gregory then went to another tenant of the
building and asked the clerk there if he knew where Archie and his
mother lived. The man shook his head, unable to reveal any more
information. Gregory went to leave the office.

"Wait," the clerk said, "I don't think they
have permanent lodgings. It seems to me that Mrs. A. carries all
her worldly possessions about in a cloth bag that goes everywhere
with her."

Gregory looked puzzled. "Mrs. A.?"

"The lad's mother. She says her foreign last
name's too difficult to pronounce."

"The woman speaks with an accent?" Gregory
asked.

"Oh, no, she's most likely a British native.
I believe her former husband was the foreigner."

"The lad's father that would be," Gregory
said.

"I suppose.”

"Is Mrs. A. working today?"

The clerk withdrew his watch from his
waistcoat pocket. "She often comes in late, but she works late and
works hard."

Gregory nodded and left. Why would the boy
not delight in the chance to procure a comfortable home for himself
and his mother? And to get paid to care for the horses he was so
enamored of?

That afternoon, the trio assembled at
Blankenship House where they had previously decided to meet, before
departing for the prizefight which was to take place a few miles
from Bath.

Gregory was most vexed. He had looked high
and low for Glee but had been unable to find her. Something about
leaving her for several hours made him nervous. There was no
telling how much mischief she could do. She could cavort with
Jefferson. Or race her phaeton through town. Or order more
scandalous dresses. Or give away his mother's emeralds. Or, perish
the thought, bring home urchins to lavish her attentions upon.

Where had that wife of his gone? His lips a
grim line, he thought about not going with his friends. Leaving
Glee to her own devices could prove regrettable.

"You quite the thing?" Appleton asked
Gregory with concern.

"I'm fine. It's just that I hate to leave
without telling my wife." What a hen-pecked fellow he must
seem!

Smiling, Appleton clapped him on the back.
"Never thought I'd see the day when you'd be deferring to a chit
half your size."

"Don't call my wife a chit!"

Appleton and the twins exchanged amused
glances, then Elvin set a hand to Gregory's back. "Shall we
go?"

His tiger brought around Gregory's phaeton
and, with reluctance, Gregory hopped on the box. "Care to ride with
me, Melvin?" Gregory asked.

Appleton had lined up his phaeton next to
the twins's, and Blanks's phaeton made a third, resembling a Roman
chariot race.

Elvin smiled and shook his head sheepishly.
"I mustn't hoard your other seat. You never know when you might
need it to transport an important person."

The lot of them were dicked in their nobs,
Gregory was convinced, though he had never thought to throw
Melvin's name into such company. Melvin used to be the level-headed
one.

After they crossed the River Avon, they were
soon in the countryside, greatcoats flapping in the wind as they
put more distance between them and the city. Soon, a knot of
carriages, gigs, horses and shabbily dressed pedestrians signaled
the location of the fight. One after another, with Gregory leading
the way, they turned off onto a lane thick with merrymakers and
drove past throngs of happily shouting fight attendees. Gregory
flicked a glance to Melvin, who was closest to him. Why was the
fellow smirking? Gregory's gaze shifted to the others, all of whom
were smiling.

A smile curled on Gregory's own lips.
Nothing like a prizefight to equalize all men—from swells to
servants—united in their love of manly sport.

And there was no sport more manly than
pugilism. What courage these men had! Who could not admire these
marvelous beasts whose fancy footwork and skill with their bare
hands put them in dire danger every minute they were in the
ring?

Gregory led the others past those who had
gathered leisurely to celebrate and make the odd bet. He pulled to
a stop when he found a space on a knoll where the three phaetons
could line up next to each other and still be able to see the fight
some forty feet away.

His friends parked their vehicles next to
his, then all of them disembarked to go make wagers. Gregory meant
to wager on The African, a magnificent creature. As quick on his
feet as any fighter he had ever seen. Gregory had seen him fight in
London last spring. Not even Gentleman Jackson was as fleet of
foot.

While they walked to betting cages, Gregory
nodded any number of times at acquaintances of his who had gathered
here this day, perched above the teeming crowds on the seats of
their conveyances.

Gregory put a hundred quid on The
African.

"I've got fifty quid that says the
Englishman will get the best of your black," Appleton said to
Gregory after he placed his wager.

"I do hate to take your money," Gregory said
by way of an agreement.

The four of them chuckled on the way back to
their rigs. As Gregory neared his, he saw that his blasted tiger
had helped himself to the master's seat. The gall! Gregory strode
over to his phaeton, a frown on his face.

As he drew closer, he saw that his slip of a
tiger—dressed in green and gold livery with powered hair—was not
his tiger at all, but his perplexing wife dressed as a lad! Drawing
his brows together, Gregory openly scowled up at Glee, his fisted
hands on his hips. "What do you think you're doing here?" His eyes
trailed over her smooth breasts which the tiger's shirt did little
to conceal. How could he have not noticed it was his
lovely—maddening—wife in the child-sized Blankenship livery?

His glance flicked to his friends, who burst
into laughter. "You knew all along, did you not?"

"Of course," Elvin said. "It was Appleton's
idea. And a capital one at that!"

Glee's eyes grew wide as she watched him. "I
did so want to see a mill first hand, and I dared not ask you for I
knew you'd become angry. Really, Blanks, there's no end to your
old-fashioned views of what a wife is to do and not to do!"

Appleton, his eyes glittering with
amusement, was quick to champion Glee's cause. "Marriage really has
made you old fashioned."

Gregory glared at his friend. "I am not old
fashioned!" He met his wife's frightened gaze. "Take a look about
you, Mrs. Blankenship. Do you see any other women here?" His
shimmering brown eyes flared in anger.

She gave tit for tat, mimicking him by
thrusting hands to hips. "How do you know other women are not also
dressed as tigers?"

Her husband did not deem to answer her, but
hitched up his leg and hoisted himself to sit beside her, refusing
to make eye contact with her. Barely able to control the angry
tremble in his voice, he said, "You vex me to death, woman. I can
see I shall be forced to hire a companion to shadow you everywhere
and keep you out of trouble."

"I won't stand for it.
You
can go
wherever you want and do whatever you want, and I mean to as
well."

Curiously, it bothered him that she did not
care what he did. "Perhaps I'll just lock you in your chamber," he
idly threatened.

She sighed. "Very well. I promise not to
dress like your tiger anymore. Though you must admit you never even
suspected--"

"Of course I didn't expect my wife to be
dressed as a boy! As my wife, you're expected to be one of the most
respected matrons in Bath." He slipped a sideways glance at
her.

Her lashes sweeping low, she swallowed and
softly said, "I wouldn't have done it had I known you'd be this
angry. I fear I've been a very disappointing wife, but I promise to
behave better in the future."

Damn, but the chit looked as if she were
going to cry! He couldn't allow that. The sight of a woman crying
completely undid him. He patted her tiny hand. "I have your word?"
he asked softly.

She nodded with contrition.

Perhaps he wouldn't have to be so stern in
the future. A future with a well behaved wife. He leaned into the
back of his seat, rather fancying the idea of Glee conducting
herself with deportment.

His contentment was short lived.

"Blanks, will you place a wager for me?" she
asked.

He tried to gain control of his emotions
before responding. "Women do not wager on prizefights."

She stuck out her bottom lip and frowned.
"It's just as I said. You're being an old stick."

He whipped around to face her. "I am not!
I'm merely trying to hold rein on my very vexing wife so she does
not do irreparable harm to her reputation."

"You weren't at all like this. . .before we
were wed. You used to live for a lark."

"Yes, Blanks, she's right," Elvin said.
"You've let marriage greatly alter your personality. Just like
Sedgewick."

From the corner of his eye, Gregory saw that
Melvin silently nodded agreement with his twin.

They were, of course, right. He had never
imagined this marriage would change him so thoroughly. But, bloody
heaven, it had! Why could he not be his old devil-may-care self? He
looked down at his petite wife. She was the reason. Damn! He had
never cared a fig for his reputation before now. A man was expected
to indulge in the occasional lark. But a woman. . . He could not
bear to see Glee receive the cut direct. To be shunned by the
ton
. No, by God, he'd protect her even if he did have to
lock her in her room.