Edith Layton (13 page)

“Listen. I mean, please hear me out, my lady,” Gilly said. She held her hat in her roughened hands and raised her head high. S
he really has beautiful eyes—tiger gold
, Bridget mused. S
he’d be lovely if her face weren’t dirty, if she weren’t half starved, if she weren’t dressed in men’s clothes, and if she didn’t look as tough as boots
.

“I work at the flower market mornings, and at the cock pits afternoons. Someone’s got to take care of them, they fight like devils, but they’re only poultry, after all. A step from a fricassee, for all their fine feathers and silver spurs,” Gilly added with a little smile, showing small, even teeth.

“Nights, I work at what I can—all decent jobs of work! You’ll never see Gilly Giles selling nothing but the sweat of her brow in honest labor, you can ask anyone. Still, there’s them that knows I’m a female, and it’s true I’m asked otherwise, now and then. But they never ask me more than once! Not that some don’t try to take what I won’t sell. Them that tries have always got something to remember me by, and I promise it ain’t pleasure, neither,” she said with satisfaction. She looked so fierce, Bridget moved back a little in her chair.

“Thing is,” Gilly went on in aggrieved tones, “I got to take care of Betsy, too, and it’s getting harder, ’cause she’s getting to an age what attracts certain gents.”

“N
o
!” Bridget breathed. Betsy could surely not yet be seven!

“Oh, aye,” Gilly said roughly, “I were the same age when one got me. But I ain’t going to talk of that, besides saying I don’t want the same to happen to our Betsy. I’d
kill
to keep it from happening, I promise you that. But see, our ma’s gone, and it’s only Betsy and me and I can’t be everywhere at once. So I got to thinking, you being such a nice lady and all, and leaving London this very day…I’ll miss her like anything,” she said savagely, “but I know what’s good for her.

“Lady, could you take her on? She’d work at anything, she’s bright as a new penny and good as gold. But whatever she does, she’d be safer in the country than London now. There’s them that got their eyes on her, that’s what’s eating at me. So?”

Men wanted that little girl?
That way
? Bridget was horrified. She couldn’t have been asked at a better time. She was newly initiated into the mysteries of what men did with women. Although she’d loved every moment in Ewen’s arms, the thought of
that
being done to a child chilled her to the heart. To do the thing without love at any age would be terrible, she understood that now. But a child and a man?

“Of course,” she said immediately—and then bit her lip. “But I’ll have to ask my husband. It is his house, after all.”

“Ask me what?” Ewen said, sauntering into the room.

Bridget saw Gilly’s withdrawal, saw her jut her chin out and put her feet apart as though readying herself for a blow. Quickly and softly Bridget told him what she’d been asked and why.

He listened close, looking Gilly up and down. “I see,”
he said thoughtfully. “And what makes you decide you can trust me?”

Bridget gasped.

But Ewen and the fierce slum girl stared at each other measuringly. “Aw, you don’t fancy little ones, that’s plain as pie,” Gilly finally said. “Nor would you want her even when she were growed. You got your lady there. And even if you tired of her, you ain’t the kind what takes your servants to bed. I know. I asked around. Ain’t nothing happens in London Town a person can’t find out if they asks in the right places. You’re wicked with the ladies, and so say all. But you never touched one what didn’t want you, and never a kid. I trust you with her, right enough. In your way you are a gent,” she admitted grudgingly.

Ewen laughed. “Pragmatic
and
polite. Lucky for you I like flattery. But pass the word round town that now I only care to touch one lady, and she’s mine. As for your request? Done. We’ll take her this very day. My lady doesn’t have her own maidservant yet. Betsy’s too young for that position, of course. But she might be useful if she’s willing to help where she can on our journey. When we get to the manor, I’m sure we can find room for another girl there.” He paused and looked speculatively at Gilly. “How about two? There’s a thought. Would you like to try your hand at employment in the countryside, too?”

“
Me
?” Gilly asked, startled. “Nah. Fish out of water is what I’d be. London’s my home and I can take care of myself just fine. But thank you for taking Betsy. She deserves more.”

As the morning sun rose high, two coaches pulled away from Viscount Sinclair’s townhouse, one with the Vis
count and his lady, the other filled with luggage, servants, and an awed and fascinated Betsy. Two outriders leading another pair of horses followed.

“Don’t worry about Betsy. The other servants will see to her,” Ewen told Bridget as he sat back in the carriage. “Don’t worry about anything, in fact. The outriders are there for our protection. There’s little crime on the roads anymore, but one can never be too careful. I carry precious cargo now, you know.”

She gave him a glowing smile.

“Why, my evening clothes alone are worth a fortune—ow!” He laughed. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you? Viscountesses do not pinch.”

“What do they do?” she asked, honestly curious.

“This,” he said, and she almost giggled—but his kiss made her forget it was a jest. He stopped after too short a time, she thought. But he said it was too soon for her to make love again. “And furthermore,” he said on a shaky laugh, “I refuse to enliven dinner in the servants’ hall by pulling down the shades on the coach windows just now. I won’t have them saying Sinclair hasn’t changed. I have, you know, Bridget—you do know that?”

“You said you’d be faithful to me as I am to you,” she said seriously, “and I believed you.”

He was still. “Sometimes,” he finally said, “I believe you believe me too easily, but what I said is true.”

“You think I was gullible? You think I was a fool to marry you so quickly,” she asked, appalled, “or so desperate I didn’t care?”

“Bridget, no…”

She sat up straight, her eyes blazing like molten steel, but her hands clenched in her lap before her. “Well, I tell you, my lord,” she said, “it was no easy decision. I
thought and thought about the consequences; I weighed everything carefully and made the decision based on how I felt about you. Not on what I
had
to do. I trusted my judgment and my instincts. Your lovemaking is very fine, but it did
not
influence me! As for your riches and your title, why, I give not a snap for them,” she cried, snapping her fingers beneath his nose. “I—”

“Stop, stop!” Ewen laughed, catching up her hand in his. “Why is it I’m attracted to firebrands as friends and as lovers? And me such a peaceable man? I know, I know, I know, Bridget,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips. “I’m glad you married me. I hardly deserve you. I know you’re right to be guided by your instincts. But how can I understand them? They’re pure and good. I’m so far from pure in so many ways, and so newly arrived at the state of goodness, that I can’t help worrying about you.”

“Oh,” she said, and couldn’t say more, because no one had worried about her in so long. Besides, it was a touchy subject for her. She herself was still wondering about how quickly she’d been wedded and bedded and carried away.

He put his arm around her, urging her to sit closer to him. She did and put her head on his shoulder. They sat that way, in silence, as the coach bore them through the last great gate of London and headed out on the road north.

“I’d forgotten,” Ewen said musingly after a while. He was gazing out the window at the flowering hedgerows, the rolling green meadows, the fields blazing yellow with mustard flowers. “I haven’t seen England in summer for such a long time. London’s not England. As to that, I never thought to ask—how do you feel about living in
the countryside? We may have to stay awhile. Even if we don’t, I’ve always loved it there. I wasn’t born on a baize table, you know, nor raised on the pavements of St. James Street. And it occurs to me that now I’ve found you, I don’t need to live in London. I’ll have to visit there, of course, from time to time. I suppose we could go in for part of the Season, too, if you wanted. Do you?”

“I hadn’t thought about it. I grew up in the countryside,” Bridget said. “I spent years there with mad Cousin Mary and the others. I had no choice. I loved London for the novelty of it, but who wouldn’t? But do you know,” she mused, considering it, “I believe my heart is in the countryside, too.”

“Is it?” he asked. “I wish it were entirely in my care instead.”

He smiled at her, the look in her eyes made him bend to her, and it was a long moment before he spoke again. When he stopped kissing her and sat up straight, he straightened his jacket and used his walking stick to rap on the roof. “I think I’ll ride for a while,” he said briskly as the carriage slowed. “I have excellent intentions, but even better temptations now. Resisting temptations is
not
one of my virtues. I’ll see you when we stop for luncheon, although you can look out the window and see me anytime.”

Around noon they stopped at an inn by the side of the road. There were a few local people drinking ale, and a pair of fashionable-looking men who eyed Bridget when she came in. Then, seeing who she was with, they hailed Ewen loudly. Ewen sat Bridget at a table and went over to chat with them. He soon returned, to see her sitting stiff and still, her head turned aside so that her scarred side faced the wall. He frowned.

“I didn’t introduce you because they aren’t the sort of men I want you to meet,” he said immediately. “My misspent years are coming back to haunt me. Why can’t I run into any worthy gentlemen? Probably because I don’t know many,” he sighed. “That will change. Don’t worry about it—look, they’re leaving. And so am I, just for a moment. I have to consult with the coachman and outriders about such things as miles and maps.”

Bridget relaxed when the gentlemen left, although she saw them slapping Ewen on the back and laughing with him by the door. One looked back and winked at her. She worried for a moment, wondering if her scar was the real reason Ewen hadn’t introduced her. But the men were soon gone, and she was able to dismiss the notion as ridiculous and unworthy. She was his wife now. She had to change, too. His past might be filled with excesses, but hers had shadows, too.
And nothing can grow in the dark except mushrooms and mold
, she told herself. She had to get rid of so many old hurts and fears.

It wasn’t a grand inn, so there was only the common room for everyone to eat in. Bridget was happy to see Betsy giggling at the table she shared with Ewen’s footman and valet. The girl had wept when her sister left, but the servants had cozened her into smiling for them. Now she’d obviously twisted both men around her finger. Bridget grinned to see how much food they’d ordered for her. She wondered about the wisdom of their letting her eat so much. It would be a long ride north, and the inside of the coach could end up looking like the inside of the girl’s stomach if they weren’t careful.

“All’s going well,” Ewen announced, sitting down next to her again. “A light luncheon, and we’re off again. We should be there by sunset.”

“How fast are your horses?” Bridget inquired. “I thought it would take two days, at the least, to get to Shropshire.”

“So it would,” Ewen said, eyeing the sliced cold meats the innkeeper put on the table, “if we were going there.”

“I thought we were going to see your father,” Bridget said in confusion. “You said he lived in Shropshire. I thought we were in a rush to get there. That’s why we married so quickly, why we—”

“Hush,” Ewen said, putting his hand over hers. “So we are, and so we were, and so we shall. But as it happens, I’ve a little hideaway just off the north road, not too many hours from here. It’s a lovely place, my favorite for recreation. Close enough to London to reach with ease, far enough away to relax in. We’ll lose some time going there, that’s true. But we’ll make it up. It’s better than driving on into the night now, and a much better place to stay than some strange inn on the high road. We don’t have to race all the way; I don’t want to rattle your teeth out, my dear.

“I get messages about my father’s health daily. His condition’s stable and has been for the past week. Not good, but neither is it dire. We can take the extra time, and it will pay, if only by preserving your health. You don’t know what some of those inns are like—probably not so bad as on the Continent,” he mused as he served her a slice of beef. “I survived acts of war, but I swear I don’t know how I survived staying in some of those places! I still have the scar from a particularly indignant bedbug I encountered one night in Calais. And that was over six months ago! I’ll show it to you later, if you’re very, very good,” he added with a burlesqued leer.

“You were in Calais six months ago? But—but we
were at war then,” Bridget said, her forehead furrowing as she tried to remember exactly when the long war had ended.

“Indeed we were,” he agreed. “So was I. Not as a soldier, though. Rather, as a…let’s say I was in the business of officially gathering information for the War Office. But I was trying to get it unofficially and unnoticed.”

“A
spy
?” she gasped.

“Not a nice term. Still, much nicer than the other names I was called—after those who talked to me found out what I’d been up to.”

“I didn’t know,” Bridget breathed.

“What did you think I was doing all those years on the Continent? Oh, of course. You believed all those stories about the conscienceless pleasure seeker rattling around boudoirs and gaming hells all across the face of Europe? Well, good. That’s what you were supposed to do. Not that I didn’t seek pleasure, too. No sense telling lies anymore now that I’m out of the business of doing it.” He smiled wryly.

But Bridget didn’t laugh. She was horrified—at herself. How little she knew of him after all! She looked at his face, all hard angles and hidden mirth. Devilishly attractive, yes, and so disciplined that getting beyond that subtle mask had been a triumph for her. But how many secrets lay behind that fascinating face? She knew how well he could kiss, of course, how easily he could charm her, how he could stun her with his attentions so utterly that she forgot everything else.