Bought: The Penniless Lady (6 page)

“You’ve said that to me quite often in the past few days. How dare I do this, how dare I say that, as though I have no business questioning anything you do?”

Unfolding his arms, he leaned toward her until they were almost nose to nose. Under other circumstances, Artemis might have thought he intended to kiss her.

Instead he dropped his voice to a low, menacing rumble. “I dare say it because it’s true and your fine title doesn’t change that. You put on a good show the other day when you came to see me. Dressed to the nines with your carriage and your servant. Pretending you were conferring a great favor upon me by accepting my proposal. But it was only a show, wasn’t it? Your proud family has no fortune, just a big, old house that’s crumbling away and a name that once meant something.”

How had he found that out? Much as it galled Artemis to hear him say such things about her family, she could not deny them.

He drew back abruptly, leaving Artemis with the bewildering sense that something had been ripped away from her.

Shaking his head in disgust, he muttered, “Who would suspect a marquis’s daughter of being no better than a common fortune hunter?”

She longed to fire back an indignant retort, but indignation was the privilege of innocent people who had been wrongly accused. “I…regret misleading you about my family’s circumstances. I was afraid if you knew the truth, you would exploit my position to take Lee away from me. I could not let that happen.”

She braved his direct gaze, hoping he might see she was telling the truth. Instead, a volatile awareness crackled between them.

“You must believe me.” She felt exposed and vulnerable, overwhelmed by the potent hostility that radiated from him. “I had no intention of deceiving you for mercenary reasons. I want nothing from you except to be able to raise my…
our
nephew.”

“Why
must
I believe you?” he growled. “Because you order me to?”

“Of course not. It is only a manner of speaking.” Now that he had this one misdeed to hold against her, he seemed determined to cast everything she said or did in the wrong. “What I mean is I hope you will believe me because I am telling the truth. I may have misrepresented the urgency of my situation, but I never told you an outright falsehood.”

It was clear from his dubious look that Mr. Northmore did not believe a word she’d uttered. Artemis told herself she did not care what he thought of her, but she could not bear to have him speak ill of Daphne.

“You cast an ugly slur upon my sister by implying she let herself get with child to snare your brother. I assure you, that was not the case. Daphne may have been naive and impulsive, but she was
never
mercenary. She would not have…lain with your brother if she had not fancied herself in love with him and believed he loved her.”

“You reckon she only
fancied
herself in love with him. Why is that? Because his blood was not blue enough to mingle with the likes of a Dearing?”

“Because they hardly knew each other.”

“Whose fault was that?” His eyes flashed with fury. “Your family would not receive him. They forbade your sister to see him, even after Lord Kingsfold tried to intervene.”

“It was none of Lord Kingsfold’s business!” Artemis protested. “He had no right to question my family’s decisions. Swaggering back into the neighborhood with his new-made fortune and his
progressive
ideas, thinking his money gave him the right to dictate what everyone else should do.”

“Which did you resent more?” asked Hadrian. “That he meddled in your family’s private affairs or that he made a success of himself and that estate of his? Or was it the greatest sin of all—that he was right? Did you ever think that if you’d heeded him, three young lives might have been spared?”

“Did I ever think?” The question jolted Artemis out of
her accustomed reticence. “Only every night, the moment I lay my head on the pillow. That and everything else I might have done to contribute to my brother and sister’s deaths.”

Desperate to escape this painful subject before she betrayed any more of her secret shame, she abruptly changed tack. “May I ask why you propose to drag Lee and me all the way to Durham?”

Throughout their confrontation, Lee had remained unusually quiet, looking around the carriage box and at the swiftly changing panorama visible through the windows. Artemis knew better than to suppose he would remain so contented for the next three hundred miles.

“A few years ago I had a house purchased up there for Julian to use. While I was in London, I sent a message for the servants to make the place ready for us. I want my brother’s son brought up there.” A severe, brooding expression clenched Hadrian’s features. “Away from the softness and bad influences of the south. I want my nephew to know where he comes from and what he’s meant to do with his life. I don’t want to repeat the mistakes I made with his father.”

The man was not only taking them to that strange, distant place—he meant to make them stay there! A wave of nausea rocked Artemis’s stomach. What had possessed her to wed a man she had every reason to mistrust? Had she fallen under the spell of his compelling looks, dynamic presence and stirring kiss? How many times must she let herself be deceived before she learned her lesson?

The anger she had sought to suppress for the past several days came boiling to the surface. A lifetime of aloof restraint was no match for it. “So you admit you made mistakes
with your brother? You are responsible for turning him into an incorrigible rake who ruined my innocent sister!”

“No!” he thundered, as if she had accused him of the most monstrous crime imaginable. The instant that word erupted from his lips, he immediately moderated his tone. “I only meant that, with the benefit of hindsight, there are things I will do differently this time. Having the lad raised up north is one of them.”

His outburst made Artemis shrink back in her seat. But Lee chortled as if his uncle were Punch, in a puppet show, flailing the hapless Judy with a stick. Was that the sort of relentless conflict she must endure for the next eight months?

Artemis prayed the time would pass as quickly as the past few days had flown by. She could hardly wait for Hadrian Northmore to sail out of her life!

H
e
had
made a mistake, Hadrian fumed as the post chaise headed northward through Surrey. An error much more grievous than any he might have committed in his brother’s upbringing.

When he’d departed for the Indies, seventeen years ago, he had been only a lad himself. One who’d never been to Newcastle or York, let alone London. How could he have known what trials and temptations awaited young Julian in the south?

But he was a man of the world now. He should have known better than to rush into marriage with Lady Artemis Dearing. During his years abroad, he’d seen plenty of designing women at work, including Simon Grimshaw’s unlamented late wife. He should have been on his guard, rather than taking the lady’s word that she despised his vulgar fortune. Her sudden turnabout from abuse and insults to a suggestion of marriage ought to have roused his suspicion, as should her insistence on a hasty wedding.

But he’d been blinded by his damnable fascination with
her. She was so different from any other woman he’d ever met—so self-contained, so indomitable. Those qualities, together with her subtle, elusive beauty, had piqued his interest. Now that he understood her mercenary motives, he must nip his dangerous fancy in the bud.

For the next several hours, they sat side by side on the narrow seat of the post chaise with a barrier of hostile silence bristling between them. Their nephew was as good as gold for a while, content to nestle on his aunt’s lap. He watched the countryside roll by, crowing with delight whenever he spotted a herd of cows or sheep. In time that diversion lost its charm and he grew fussy.

“Are we going to stop for the night?” asked Lady Artemis as she strove to quiet the child. “Or must we race straight on to Durham like the mail coach, only pausing long enough to change horses and bolt a cold lunch?”

“Of course we’re going to stop.” Hadrian bridled. What sort of brute did she take him for? “I wanted to get through London today. But if you’d rather, we can put up at the next inn we come to.”

“I’m sure we would not want to interfere with your plans.” She lifted the little boy to her shoulder. “Hush, now. London is not much farther. When we get there you will see plenty of novel sights—bridges, tall buildings, boats on the river.”

Hard as he tried, Hadrian could not deny the note of playful warmth that crept into her voice when she spoke to the fretful child.

She managed to keep him quiet until they’d crossed the Thames and stopped at a large coaching inn near the start of the Great North Road.

“You see? That was not so bad.” Hadrian spoke in a hearty tone as he helped her from the carriage. Her mention of him
dragging
them off to Durham had troubled his conscience. But he was not about to let his bride dictate his actions from the very first day of their marriage. “Traveling by ship might be faster, but spring storms can stir up rough seas. I would prefer a full day’s carriage drive to a single hour of seasickness.”

He ruffled his nephew’s fair hair. “Besides, I do not want to take any chances with this young gentleman’s safety.”

“Nor do I!” Lady Artemis shot him an offended yet defiant look. “Lee behaved much better than I expected today. I doubt he will be so obliging for the entire journey.”

Dismissing her warning, Hadrian strode off to arrange their accommodations. He returned shortly to announce, “I booked us a pair of rooms with a private dining parlor in between. I hope that will suit you.”

Lady Artemis replied with a strained nod, “I would sleep over the stables as long as I have a place to feed Lee, change his linen and put him to bed.”

Half an hour later, while Hadrian was washing for dinner, an impatient knock summoned him to the door between his bedchamber and the parlor.

The instant he opened it, Lady Artemis thrust his squirming nephew into his arms. “He will not sit still in a chair to be fed. When I try to hold him on my lap, he wriggles about so much that I spill half the food before I can get any into his mouth.”

One glance at her gown confirmed that. The pale blue
muslin was spattered in several places, including one bright yellow blotch on the bodice.

“What do you expect me to do?” Hadrian gripped the child firmly under the arms to keep from dropping him. “Tie him down?”

“No.” She heaved an exasperated sigh. “I expect you to hold him on your knee while I spoon food into his mouth. You claim such excessive concern for his welfare, I should think you’d want to make certain he is properly nourished.”

“Of course I do.” Hadrian resented any suggestion to the contrary.

Marching past her into the parlor, he sank onto a chair. Holding his nephew in a secure grip, he looked the child in the eye and spoke in a firm tone. “Now sit still and eat up your supper like a good lad.”

With that, he perched the child on his knees to face Lady Artemis.

She flung herself on to a chair opposite them and picked up a bowl of soft-boiled eggs. “There was no need to frighten him by taking that tone.”

“I don’t hear him wailing, do you? I reckon it would take more than a sharp word from me to give this young master a fright. He doesn’t seem to be afraid of anything.” Hadrian could not help taking pride in that. “If you ask me, it wouldn’t hurt him to learn a bit of caution and to mind his elders.”

She hadn’t
asked
his opinion on child-rearing. Hadrian sensed her unspoken thought. But she could not deny their young nephew was tucking into his supper now, eating all his egg before starting on a dish of stewed fowl.

“Lee will have plenty of time to learn all that,” she insisted. “At this age, surely it is more important for him to be happy and know he is loved.”

Those hardly sounded like the words of a woman who’d used the child to snare a wealthy husband. Much as Hadrian wanted to despise her as a fortune hunter, reason suggested otherwise. After all, she could not possibly have anticipated his return to England. It was daft to suppose she’d cared for the lad all these months in the hope that such an opportunity might present itself.

If not that, what
had
made her keep a child she could easily have cast off after her sister’s death? “Did your uncles approve of you raising an illegitimate child?”

“Hardly. They wanted me to give him to one of our tenants to raise or—” Jamming her lips together to stop the indignant flow of words, she thrust the spoon into her nephew’s mouth.

“Or what?” The words popped out before Hadrian could contain them.

Curiosity betrayed a level of interest he did not want to feel. But he reminded himself it was his flesh and blood they were discussing. He had a right to know.

Lady Artemis did not seem inclined to answer. Instead she busied herself wiping the child’s mouth before taking up a bowl of milk pudding.

After the boy had swallowed several large spoonfuls, she murmured, “If I’d insisted on keeping Lee, Uncle Henry would have cast us out of Bramberley.”

Having avoided looking at Hadrian all the while she fed their nephew, she suddenly glanced up, impaling him with her blue-violet gaze. “That is why I agreed to marry you,
Mr. Northmore—because I had no better choice. I would have wed the devil to keep from losing Lee.”

She sounded sincere, all the more because her remark was so unflattering. Yet Hadrian sensed she was not telling him everything. While she finished feeding his nephew, he found himself drinking in her delicate beauty. Hard as he tried to divert his thoughts, he could not help wondering whether her dark hair would be as soft to touch as he imagined. She was not tempting in the blatant way of some women. Yet everything about her seemed to whisper a subtle challenge that no ordinary man had a hope of making her his.

“There.” She set aside the empty pudding bowl. “Now I must put Lee to bed.”

With a mixture of relief and regret, Hadrian handed the child back to her. It had been a perilous pleasure holding the wee lad on his knee. Not to mention gazing at his tempting bride. “While you’re doing that, I will order our dinner.”

Lady Artemis bobbed a nod and bore the child off to her bedchamber.

He did
not
owe her an apology, Hadrian insisted to himself once she’d gone. The woman had deliberately misled him. He would challenge any man in his situation
not
to believe she must be after his money. But if she was entirely in the wrong and he was not the least to blame, why did he feel a nagging need to make amends? Refusing to examine his motives too closely, he ordered the best dinner the inn could provide.

When it had arrived, he knocked on her door, prompting a loud squall from his nephew.

An instant later, the door jerked open to reveal a disheveled
Lady Artemis. “He had just nodded off, finally. What do you want?”

“I didn’t mean to wake him.” Hadrian gestured toward the table, spread with an array of covered dishes. “I thought you’d want to eat.”

“I will once I get him settled. Heaven knows when that will be now.” Casting a glance at Hadrian’s face and another at the table, she moderated her tone. “Thank you for ordering the food. Do not feel obliged to wait for me.”

She shut the door before he could reply. A moment later, the child quieted.

Returning to the table, Hadrian poured himself a glass of wine. He
would
wait for her—a little while at least. Surely the lad would not take long to nod off.

The first glass of wine tasted so pleasant, Hadrian followed it with a second. He hoped the drink might help him forget this was his wedding night. Instead, it made him forget everything else. Thoughts he had no business thinking ran rampant through his mind, unfettered by his usual strict control. His eyelids began to feel heavy.

Surely Mr. Northmore must have finished eating and gone to bed by now. Hungry as she was, Artemis had no inclination to dine alone with her new husband. What if he raised the subject of her deception again?

She told herself she did not care if
that man
had a bad opinion of her. She was satisfied her actions had been justified. Yet she could not help wondering what her honorable Dearing ancestors would think of her intentionally deceiving Mr. Northmore. She did not need him stirring up the stew of shame that roiled in her belly.

The thought of stew made her mouth water. Perhaps if she had something to eat, her stomach would settle. Gingerly, Artemis rose from the bed and crept to the door. She eased it open, cringing when the hinges gave a faint squeal. But Lee did not stir at the noise. All was still in the parlor as well. Breathing a sigh of relief, she tiptoed in and closed the door softly behind her.

A squeak of alarm rose in her throat when she glanced toward the table and saw Hadrian Northmore sitting there. It died away again when she noticed he was leaning back in the chair with his eyes closed and his head tilted to one side. A wine bottle stood half-empty beside his clean dinner plate. He must have taken a drink or two while waiting for her to join him, and fallen asleep. Clearly he had not exaggerated when he said a Northmore could sleep anywhere. Artemis envied him that ability.

Just then her stomach gave a great yawning growl. As quietly as she had slipped away from her nephew, Artemis now approached his uncle. Sliding onto the empty chair opposite him, she carefully lifted the cover off the nearest dish. It released a whiff of warm, moist air that smelled good enough to eat.

Artemis inhaled greedily. Pigeon pie—one of her favorites! How long had it been since she’d had a taste of it—Lord and Lady Kingsfold’s wedding breakfast, perhaps? She helped herself to a generous wedge and ate it as quietly as she could, relishing every bite. Then, thirsty from eating the pie, she drank a glass of wine.

While Mr. Northmore slumped in his chair, his breath coming in slow, deep waves, Artemis consumed a hearty
meal. She kept a wary eye on him as she ate and drank, hoping he would not wake before she had finished. But as he continued to sleep, her wariness gradually changed to something else.

How could she have thought his dark, powerful features unappealing when she’d first glimpsed them? She now found his proud, jutting chin, fierce Roman nose and sweeping raven brows far
too
attractive for her peace of mind. With his piercing gray eyes closed and the stern line of his mouth relaxed in sleep, she caught a glimpse of a very different man than the one she’d clashed with these past few days.

Catching herself gaping at him, she forced her attention back to her plate, only to discover it was empty and she could not eat another bite. Artemis congratulated herself on managing to get a good supper without having to make awkward conversation with her new husband. Then she rose from her chair and prepared to steal away to bed.

But something stopped her.

Perhaps it was Hadrian Northmore’s air of innocent tranquility. Or perhaps it was the unlikely sense that this powerful man needed her, if only for the trivial task of waking him. Left to his own devices, he might sleep all night in that chair, to wake in the morning stiff and starving. It was partly her fault he’d fallen asleep there. If she had not delayed, hoping he would dine without her, he’d be in bed now, resting comfortably on a full stomach.

Artemis stifled a groan. Though she knew what she must do, she was not happy about it. Hadrian Northmore struck her as the kind of man who would be very gruff when woken from a sound sleep, even if it was for his own good.

“Mr. Northmore,” she whispered, hesitant to touch him. “Wake up!”

Her words had no effect. His eyes remained shut, though they seemed to move restlessly behind his closed lids. Some tension crept back into his loose limbs. His lips moved, but no words came out.

“Hadrian!” She spoke louder and tried his given name, hoping it might better penetrate his slumber. “Come now, it’s time to wake up.”

Still he gave no sign of having heard her.

Caution urged Artemis to keep her distance, but something stronger drew her toward him. She grasped his shoulder and shook it. At the same time, she brought her lips close to his ear and spoke in an urgent whisper. “Hadrian, please, you
must
wake up!”