Romantic Rebel (15 page)

“I meant the address, Mrs. Speers. Lord Paton has found us a set of rooms in the Westgate Buildings.”

She sniffed. “Lord Paton, is it? He never called on you but the once. If you think to trap that customer in a parson’s mousetrap, think again, miss. It was a mistress-ship he had in mind, nothing else.”

I bridled up like an angry mare. Customer indeed! “You betray your origins by such a speech as that, Mrs. Speers. You will have my letter of termination this evening, providing you are in any condition to read by that time.”

She picked up her glass and took a long swig. “Pretty high and mighty for one of Pepper’s hacks. I could buy and sell you. I received a check today for three hundred pounds, for novels that have been on the market a decade and are still being snatched up.”

“Good for you!” I exclaimed, delighted to hear it.

She seemed confused by my response to her boast, which was obviously intended as a floorer. “Very kind of you to say so, I’m sure,” she simpered, and returned me to the eminence of a lady. “We don’t get your kind of class here often, Miss Nisbitt. I’ll be sorry to see you go. Why don’t you drop in and visit me sometime?”

“And you must visit me,” I said rashly, wishing I had not told her our new address.

I went right upstairs and wrote my notice of termination. If Mr. Percival’s rooms proved unsuitable for any reason, Mrs. Speers would be happy to hear it, and let us have our old rooms back.

I pondered long over the affair of Lord Paton. He no longer suspected me of being a lightskirt, and still seemed interested in me. Barring that interest in the muslin company, he was very nearly the ideal parti.

But what would a duke’s family think of Miss Nesbitt? They probably had some great and noble heiress in mind for him. It is not only ladies who are subject to coercive forces from society. He too would feel pressure to toe the matrimonial line. There was obviously no article for
The Ladies’ Journal
in this line of thinking, and I put it aside for later consideration.

It was time to think of chops and potatoes, and making a fresh toilette before Paton called that evening.

Chapter Twelve

Lord Paton’s visit was brief. My hopes had soared to such unrealistic heights that I envisaged a visit of an hour or two, and had even prepared a platter of sliced ham and cheeses to magically present, to minimize the lack of a servant. I should have known when he showed up in formal evening attire that he was on his way to a party, but even that did not awaken me to reality. I thought he had gone to such extraordinary pains to impress me, and regretted my inferior brown sarsenet gown.

He sat down for a glass of wine at least, and gave us a pretty full description of Mr. Percival’s rooms. They sounded superior in every way to those presently occupied, and at a rent low enough that Annie inquired about it.

“Mr. Percival signed a year’s lease and must pay whether he occupies the space or not,” Paton explained. “If the rooms are vacant for even a month, he will lose more than by subletting them immediately at a slightly lower rate. It is all mathematics, ladies. This gift horse comes with a full set of teeth.”

“What hour did you set for us to see the rooms?” I asked.

“Three in the afternoon. I know you work in the morning, Miss Nesbitt. I thought we would go before visiting the Pump Room, if that suits you?”

“Excellent.”

“So shall I pick you up at, say, two forty-five?”

“If you feel your gloves are up to it.” I smiled, to show my appreciation without gushing.

“They are up to anything, like their wearer. And now I really must be off. I have literary colleagues visiting from London. I do not like to upset my aunt’s regular card evening by landing them in on her. And after the dullness of Carleton House and Covent Garden and Hyde Park, they are eager to see some
real
sights. I thought dinner at the Pelican might impress them.”

“Dr. Samuel Johnson.” I nodded, as that is the inn’s main claim to distinction.

“Spoken like a true Bath-ite. One dislikes to call the townsmen Bathers. It seems to suggest they are unique in their passion for water, and cast a slur on the bathing habits of the rest of the country.”

“What
are
they called?” Annie asked. “Bathonians?”

“Quizzes, by and large,” he replied. “And now that I have given Miss Nesbitt her daily insult, I shall take my leave before she retaliates. Tomorrow at two forty-five,” he reminded us, and rose to gather up his hat and gloves.

I accompanied him to the door, said good evening, and he left. The sound of a man’s footfall on the landing warned me that some other company was approaching, so I held the door open. Annie had not mentioned that Pepper was coming, but he kept in close enough touch that he usually knew when we would be in, and sometimes popped in unannounced.

I knew as soon as I saw the top of the man’s head that it was not Pepper. The hat was too stylish. The gait too was faster than an elder man’s would be. Who was it? I watched as the new arrival and Lord Paton exchanged a glance in passing. Then the newcomer looked up and I recognized the face of Geoffrey Nesbitt.

My mind went blank. I could feel my face contort in a hideous parody of virtue outraged. I was aware, as if viewing the whole from a great height, that Paton turned and looked up at me. He hesitated a moment, uncertain whether he should leave me in such distress.

“Geoffrey!” I said in a strangled whisper.

Paton turned and began to remount the stairs again, casting suspicious looks at Geoffrey. “Emma, are you all right?” he called.

Geoffrey gave him a sharp look. “Who is this man, Emma?” he demanded.

My answer was to Paton, for I wanted above everything to get him out of the way before Geoffrey and I came to cuffs. “Yes, it’s fine, Paton. Thank you. I can handle this.”

He looked, waiting for an introduction.

“Tomorrow,” I called to him, and ushered Geoffrey into the flat.

The last I saw of Lord Paton was a worried frown, as he hovered, wondering what he should do. Then I turned to confront my cousin.

I have spoken in a derogatory way of Geoffrey, and would not want to leave you with the impression that he is a physical monster. He is not at all ugly, just pompous. He is of medium height, with medium brown hair, fair to middling handsome. Mediocre in every way.

He put his hands on his hips like an outraged housekeeper and said, “This is a fine how-do-you-do, I must say, Emma. What do you mean by rushing away from Nesbitt Hall as though I were an ogre? Have you any idea of the sort of questions and insinuations I have been subjected to over the past weeks?”

“None, and I couldn’t care less. You were well paid for any slight inconvenience my departure caused you.”

His voice rose to dangerous heights. “Slight inconvenience! That is putting it mildly. The neighbors half believe I have done away with you.”

“Nonsense. Annie corresponds with half a dozen of them. They know perfectly well how the situation stands, that she and I are living in this hovel because my father gave you all our money.”

He began pacing the floor. “Well, if that isn’t just like a woman! To go dashing off, imagining herself a put-upon heroine.”

“Dramatics aside, you cannot believe I am
not
put upon!”

“You have brought any hardship endured upon yourself.”

“I prefer my present circumstance to being your wife,” I snapped. “It seems that is the only alternative my father left. Everything—house, money, consuls—all were given to you, carte blanche.”

“I had nothing to say about that. I was astonished when I heard the will read.”

“You were in seventh heaven!” I charged. “Do you think I’m blind? I saw you smirking into your collar, trying not to shriek for joy as the will was read. It was your giving my father those damned French books to read that did the mischief in the first place, and don’t pretend you were unaware of Mr. Rousseau’s philosophy, for I am not an idiot.”

“Now, Emma,” Annie said placatingly.

“Don’t either of you try ‘now-Emma-ing’ me. It was infamous.” Hot tears scalded my eyes at the memory of that dreadful morning. I blinked them away and continued with my tirade, for if I did not, I felt I would burst. Geoffrey Nesbitt was the very incarnation of my doom.

Geoffrey twitched at his collar and tried not to gloat. “It is true I feared you would play ducks and drakes with your father’s fortune,” he admitted. “The estate was entailed upon me, there was no injustice in
that.
I
did
think your father would leave you the bulk of the money....”

“And were at pains to forestall him!”

“Your father—and I—wanted you to continue living where you were born and raised. A marriage between us was the logical, reasonable thing. I dare say your father thought you likelier to comply if you—”

“If I had no say in the matter!” I flung back angrily. “If the alternative was poverty. That is a fine, Christian point of view. I wonder he did not hire a pen of lions to ensure my accepting. And let me tell you, Geoffrey, I would
rather
be eaten alive by lions than marry you!”

He stiffened up. “I have come to make an alternative arrangement, one that does not include a
pride
of lions,” he said, emphasizing the word “pride.” It is exactly the sort of pedantry that infuriates me with Geoffrey. He will think of semantics, or whatever it is called, at such a critical moment as this. “It was never your father’s—or my—intention to see you penniless. Naturally we discussed the eventuality that you refused to have me. Your father trusted me to behave in a gentlemanly manner if that happened. If you are convinced we do not suit—”

I snorted like a penned bull. He glared, and continued. “If you wish to set up a separate residence, naturally some equitable settlement must be made. It was what your father wanted.”

This fell on my ears like celestial music. I stopped ranting and stared in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

“I have discussed it with my solicitors. Your father left approximately fifty thousand pounds in cash and investments. Some of it will be required to run the Hall.”

“It more than pays for itself!”

“Very true, but the whole of the sum was left to me. Your father and I decided, and my solicitor thinks it a generous settlement, on splitting the fifty thousand equally.”

Though I am no mathematician, it did not take me long to latch on to the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds. I was delighted, but with my recent practice in haggling with Mrs. Speers, I tried to up the sum. “Which leaves you, a mere cousin, with an estate worth fifty thousand easily, and twenty-five thousand cash.”

“The mother’s dowry is usually given to the daughter. Your mother’s dot was twenty-five. That is the sum your father determined,” he said stiffly. “I have the papers here,” he added, and patted his pocket.

The cliché about the bird in the hand popped into my head. Geoffrey was not obliged by law to give me so much as the steam off his porridge. I gracefully relented and said, “Well, if Papa thought twenty-five thousand was fair ...”

“Generous! That is very generous, Geoffrey,” Annie exclaimed. “Why, Emma, we can look higher than a set of sublet rooms in the Westgate Buildings. We can hire a house.”

All was restored to peace, and even jollity. We had wine, and later the platter of ham and cheese prepared for Paton. Annie and I made light of the travails of managing without a servant.

“It is infamous to see you living like this!” Geoffrey exclaimed, but not in his usual toplofty fashion. He was so happy to be free of having to marry me that he was nearly giddy. He had no more love for me than I for him, but is one of those gentlemen who will do anything for money. “We must see you removed to a decent place, and servants hired before I leave. Then I can return to Milverton with my head held up.”

“I shall have twelve hundred and fifty pounds per annum. We are rich, Annie!” I laughed.

“Lord Paton will be surprised to hear of your change in fortune.” This had occurred to me long since, but it did not seem the time to mention it.

“Is that the fellow who was scowling at me on the stairs as I came up?” Geoffrey inquired.

“Yes.”
I blushed.

“Surely he is not the Duke of Crannock’s son and heir!”

“Yes,”
I said again.

“Good God! Don’t tell me you have nabbed a
marquess.
My generosity was not necessary.”

This pernicious idea had to be talked away at once. “Good gracious, he is only a friend. I have not nabbed him.”

“But you might, with twenty-five thousand pounds,” Annie said.

“That would be an excellent connection.” Geoffrey beamed. Titles rank second only to hard cash in his hierarchy of virtues. I think he would gladly part with my dowry to be able to claim such a connection. “How did you meet him? I thought he lived in London. And of course his family seat is in Kent.”

“He is visiting an aunt in Bath,” I explained.

“And since you are in mourning, he cannot take you out to assemblies or such things,” Geoffrey said. He noticed my toilette. “I say, Emma, a brown gown is a little unusual, is it not? What must Lord Paton have thought?”

Annie answered for me. “Oh, we were staying in, you know, so it did not seem to matter. Paton is not fastidious.”

“Just so you observe all the proprieties when you go out with him.”

A whole swamp of difficulties rose up in my mind’s eye. I hadn’t brought a stitch of mourning with me. How was Geoffrey to take us about, hiring a house and servants, without soon being privy to the fact?

He must be got rid of as soon as possible, and till that time, I must develop some indisposition that put me securely in bed. I soon began coughing delicately into my fist, and said my throat felt a little rough. I inquired where he was staying so that I might send him a note in the morning putting off our house-hunting. I did not mean to be so ill that the solicitor could not come to settle the payment, however. He soon left, and Annie and I settled down to scheming.

She was fully alive to the necessity of my becoming ill. “We’ll ask Geoffrey to bring the solicitor here. We must send Paton a note as well, and explain that we will not be requiring Mr. Percival’s rooms,” she added.