A Rose in Winter (22 page)

Christopher gave a derisive laugh. "You should be careful with your threats, sir. I don't think you could bear the loss of another arm."

"Ye were lucky then. Ye won't be again," Farrell snarled savagely.

"With your record, I really don't think I have much to worry about."

Christopher turned back to Avery, abruptly dismissing the brother. "Think on my offer carefully, Mayor. You'll either have to turn a fair profit from the sale of your daughter today, or give her over to me now in full payment of your debts."

Erienne remembered the nights she had sat beside Farrell's bed while he lay twisting and writhing in torment. She had craved revenge for what the Yankee had done to her brother, and now that same one was demanding either her hand in marriage or payment for a debt, as if he really didn't care which he got. How could he be so arrogant to believe that she would fall at his feet in gratitude after all he had done and when he had never wasted a moment's breath to ply her with a promise of love or devotion? In an unsteady tone she questioned, "You would take a bride who loathes you?"

Christopher considered her a moment before making an inquiry of his own. "You would prefer marrying the sort I see here?"

Erienne's eyes fell from his, for he had struck smartly to the root of her distress.

"She'll take her chances on the block," Avery snarled. "There are those here who might be willin' ter pay the bride price for such a comely lass. Besides, I'd have a bit of a tiff on me hands if I disappointed any o' these here lads by givin' her over ter ye before they had a chance at her. Seein's as how some o' 'em are me friends, that would be hard fer me ter do." He nodded his head in self-agreement. "Can't rightly do that ter me friends."

Christopher stuffed the papers back into his coat. "You have made your decision, and I will await the outcome. Be assured that I will expect full reimbursement of my money before I will consider the matter settled." He touched the brim of his hat briefly. "Until later then."

Avery prodded his stunned daughter, urging her up the steps. It was a difficult moment for Erienne. She wanted to maintain an air of cool disdain, to face them all in calm defiance, but her mauled pride and an aching distrust of the future assailed her senses. Momentarily blinded by a rush of tears, she stumbled on the hem of her gown. Once again she found a supportive hand coming to her aid. Long fingers grasped her elbow and held her firmly until she regained her balance. Furious with herself that she should display such weakness, Erienne lifted her chin and found the grayish-green eyes resting on her with something akin to compassion or pity. It was too much for her to bear.

"Please... don't... don't touch me," she whispered.

His hand slipped away, and he gave a short, scornful laugh. "When you say that to your husband, my sweet, remember to be more commanding. Perhaps you'll be more effective."

He strode away and Erienne watched through welling tears as the Talbots' carriage drew up beside him and Claudia's face again appeared at the window.

"Why, Christopher, what are you doing here?" Claudia presented an injured mien as he stepped to the carriage. "Don't tell me you're going to bid for a wife. Surely a man of your wealth and stature can do better than Erienne Fleming."

Christopher could well guess who she had in mind. "I am here to collect a debt."

Claudia laughed in relief. "Well, that I can understand. 'Twas the other I was worried about. I thought surely you had taken leave of your senses."

A bland smile touched his lips. "Not quite."

"Come now, gentlemen," Avery hawked. "Gather 'round now and feast yer eyes on this lovely. Ye won't see another to compare with her after she's taken. Come and look. The roup will be startin' a mere moment from now."

Avery took hold of Erienne's cloak, and when she tried to resist its removal, chortled and with a mocking bow, swept it from her. A loud roar of approval came from the audience as the men feasted their eyes on the prize. Spurred on, Avery caught his fingers in the thick knot of hair and spilled it from its mooring, draping it over Erienne's shoulder and breast.

"See for yerselves, gentlemen. Is she not worth a fortune?"

Erienne's jaw was clamped tight as she stared down into a sea of gaping leers. She felt her skin crawl and had to steady herself against a moment of panic. She raised her head, and her breath halted as she found Christopher's attention fully upon her. Of a sudden she wished she would not have been so proud and foolish to dismiss his offer, for she had seen none in the crowd who did not cause a cold feeling of dread to knot in the pit of her stomach.

Claudia's eyes narrowed as she also noticed where Christopher's gaze was directed. She cleared her throat and smiled prettily as he turned back. "I'd like to invite you for a ride about the countryside, Christopher, but you seem unduly interested in the proceedings. Perhaps you would rather stay here." Her eyes were bright as she awaited a denial.

"Forgive me, Miss Talbot." A brief smile touched his lips. "The debt is for a considerable sum, and it may be my only chance to collect it."

"Oh, I see." She was annoyed by his refusal but managed to disguise the fact. "I shall leave you to your business, then." She couldn't resist a hopeful question. "Will I be seeing you later?"

"I'll be leaving Mawbry this evening. My business will be finished here, and I don't know when I'll be coming back."

"Oh, but you have to!" she exclaimed. "When will I see you again if you don't?"

Christopher hid his amusement at the woman's lack of coyness. "I'll be keeping my room here at the inn. It shouldn't be too long before I return."

Claudia sighed in relief. "Do let me know when you come, Christopher. We shall be giving a ball during the winter season, and I wouldn't want you to miss it." Her lips tightened at the corners as he glanced over his shoulder without answering. She was beginning to suspect that his business centered very much around the mayor's daughter. "I must be off, Christopher, but should you have a change of plans about tonight, I'll be home alone all evening." A faint smile curved her lips. "Father is still in London, and is likely to be gone for some time yet."

"I shall remember," Christopher replied and tipped his hat. "Good day."

Claudia inclined her bonneted head briefly in a farewell gesture, irritated that he made no effort to delay her. She consoled herself with the thought that if he had some interest in Erienne, it was a wasted effort. At least after the roup she would be someone else's wife and well out of reach.

The carriage swung onto the road, and Christopher gave his full attention to the proceedings, casually leaning against a post while his eyes rested on Erienne.

"Gentlemen, ye've come here in hopes o' finding yerself a wife, and a wife she shall be ... ter one o' ye!" Avery chortled, directing a finger toward those who were pressing in for a closer look. He took on a serious mien as he caught hold of the lapels of his coat. "Now, I gave her me word that it be marriage ye gentlemen had in mind, nothin' less, and I'll be expectin' ye ter follow through accordin'ly. I'll be a witness ter the nuptials meself and will tolerate no shenanigans. Do I make meself clear?"

A shiver of revulsion went through Erienne as her eyes found the man whom she had dubbed the gray mouse. He had moved to stand near the front, and his smug smile made her all too aware that he would be one of the serious participants. If he made the high bid, he might seek retribution for having been rejected when he first came to call, and she might never again know a peaceful day or a restful night.

Erienne cast her eyes surreptitiously over the faces in the crowd. Smedley Goodfield, at least, was not among them, but Silas Chambers was present. His modest carriage was pulled up nearby, and the old, wizened driver shivered in a threadbare coat.

For the most part, the men who had gathered around the platform seemed a wayward lot, having no obvious redeemable qualities. She had their full attention, all except a white-haired, wealthily garbed individual who had brought along a small collapsible seat on which he sat busily attending the book folded out across his knee. From all outward appearances, he was totally absorbed with the figures in the ledger.

Avery held up his arms widespread for silence and attention from the crowd. "Now, gentlemen, as ye've no doubt heard, I am sorely set upon by me creditors, or I'd have never considered this action. But they press 'pon me at every turn, and even this one"—he gestured briefly in the direction of Christopher Seton—"came ter me very home ter demand payment. Have pity on a man and on this young wench who has never known a man. She's been a fair good blessin' ter Farrell and meself these past years since her poor mother died, but she's reached a time when she should take herself a husband and get away from this worrisome labor o' carin' for her kin. So I urge ye, gentlemen, ter loosen yer purse strings. Come forward, those o' ye who've come ter this affair in a serious manner. Come forward. Here, let 'em gather close."

He consulted the huge turnip-size watch he carried in his waistcoat and held the timepiece high before his audience. "The time is nigh, and now it'll begin. What do I hear from ye gentlemen? What do I hear now? Is it a thousand pounds I hear? A thousand pounds?"

It was Silas Chambers who first responded to the prompting by tentatively raising a hand. In a rather hesitant tone he replied, "Aye ... Aye, one thousand pounds."

Standing in the background, Christopher unfolded the packet of papers and took out a pair of bills. He waved them to gain Avery's attention and silently mouthed the words, "A mere pittance."

Avery reddened and redoubled his efforts. "Ah, gentlemen, take a look at the prize ye'd be winnin'. Me own fair daughter, beautiful ter a fault. Intelligent. Able ter read and write. A good head with ciphers. A credit to any man she comes ter."

"Fifteen hundred," came a crude voice from the gathering. "Fifteen hundred for the wench."

"A wench it be now." Avery grew a trifle ruffled. "Do ye understand that this sale is final upon the conclusion of wedlock only? And 'twill be wedlock, I vow. So do not be thinkin' ye'll buy me daughter for addin' ter some unseemly harem. Tis wedlock only, and wedlock I'm talking o'. There be no hanky-panky, and I will make sure o' that. Now come ye, gentlemen. Come ye. Loosen yer purse strings, I beg ye. Ye see the man standin' there awaitin' and agloatin'. Be out with it now. Certainly more than a thousand pounds. Certainly more than fifteen hundred."

The man sitting on the collapsible seat raised his quill and spoke in a flat, disinterested tone. "Two thousand."

Avery took heart at the bid. "Two thousand! Two thousand to this gentleman. Do I hear twenty-five? Do I hear twenty-five?"

"Ah, twenty-one hundred pounds," Silas Chambers lightly bade. "Twenty-one. Aye, twenty-one, I'll go."

"Twenty-one it is then! Twenty-one! Do I hear anythin' else?"

"Twenty-three!" Harford Newton joined in, dabbing his thick lips with a handkerchief. "Twenty-three!"

"Twenty-three it is then! Twenty-three hundred! Come, gentlemen. Ye're not even close ter me debts, and I would see a bit for meself now and me good fair son with his crippled arm. Dig deep into yer purses. Dig out the last bit o' coin. Twenty-three it is now."

"Twenty-four!" the same crude voice in the back shouted. "Twenty-four hundred pounds!" There was a slight blurring of syllables, as if the man had imbibed a trifle too much before attending the auction.

In a worried frenzy Silas hastened to reaffirm his own position. "Twenty-five hundred! Twenty-five hundred pounds!" He was becoming almost breathless with the risk that was involved in this bidding and with the hope that the others would stop once and for all. He was, after all, of goodly means, but not overly wealthy.

"Twenty-five hundred 'tis!" Avery chimed out. "Twenty-five! Ah, gentlemen, I implore ye. Be kind ter an old man and his crippled son. Here ye see before ye a fine example o' womanhood. Indeed, I've said it before and say again, a credit ter any man. A helpmate as it were ter ease yer burdens and see ye kindly through life and bear ye many children."

Erienne turned slightly away from her father at his last comment. She was aware of Christopher's unrelenting stare, and when she lifted her gaze she saw he had now removed perhaps half the bills from the bulk and stood casually dangling them from his fingers, as if he too were imploring the others to bid more to make his time worthwhile. An ache grew in her chest and tightened until it restricted her breathing. He had amazed her with his offer of marriage, but now he appeared to have totally dismissed the idea, as if his first consideration had only been compensation for the debts he held.

"Twenty-five hundred! Do I hear twenty-six?" Avery urged. "Twenty-seven? Ah, come, gentlemen. Why, we've hardly warmed up ter the biddin', and the man is still standin' there with his debts. I implore ye ter reach into those purses. She'll not go for a pittance such as this when the man is waitin' ter collect his due. Twenty-eight hundred! Twenty-eight hundred! Do I hear twenty-eight hundred?"

"Three thousand!" the gray mouse chimed in.

A murmur went through the crowd, and Erienne's knees began to tremble beneath her. Silas Chambers quickly sought out his purse and began to count its contents. There was a jumble of voices from the back as the tipsy contender consulted his friends. Avery's smile broadened slightly until Christopher shook out another bill and added it to the rest.