Authors: Mary J. Putney
The Bargain (5 page)
His brows rose. “How medieval.”
“Quite, especially when you consider that we were on the best of terms. But there was nothing to be done about it, so this morning I contracted a marriage of convenience.” A note of bitterness entered her voice. “I had hoped to have a real marriage.”
“If by that you mean a love match, you know how rare that is in our order, and how seldom it is successful,” he said dryly.
“I didn't mean a love match in the sense of being so besotted that one has no true sense of the other person's character,” she explained. “There should be attraction, of course, but from all I've heard, that fades in time for even the most infatuated lovers. Far better to base a marriage on respect and mutual affection. A partnership of friendship and shared values and goals.”
“How very reasonable of you,” he said, intrigued. “I wish more women had such a sensible attitude. It would make marriage a far more appealing state.”
From the approval in his eyes, she knew that she had just risen several steps in his estimation. If he was to marry, it would be to a woman like her, who would make his life run smoothly rather than causing painful, emotional scenes.
But marriage was merely a future possibility. Thinking of her current state, she said with a sigh, “I have had to settle for much less than I wanted.” She glanced up at him through her lashes. “I will have to look elsewhere for more rewarding relationships.”
“Your husband will not object?” he asked, gaze intent.
“He will not,” Jocelyn said firmly. In the arms of the man she wanted to marry, she had no desire to think of the soldier who had touched her life so briefly. “Our marriage is nothing but a mutual convenience.”
The waltz came to an end. Both of them lowered their arms from waltz position, but instead of moving from the floor, they stayed still, caught in a moment of acute mutual awareness. Candover's gaze went over her with great deliberation, lingering on her low neckline and the curves visible through the gauzy summer gown.
Jocelyn recognized his scrutiny for a subtle, wordless advance. The implications were almost frightening. With a gesture, a faint withdrawal, she could let him know that she had no interest in proceeding further. Instead, she caught his gaze and smiled.
Expert in the ways of dalliance, he recognized her silent signal. With a slow, devastating smile, he escorted her from the dance floor. “I'm leaving London in the morning, but I look forward to calling on you when I return to town in September.”
She would be a widow by then and free to explore the promise in his eyes, though that freedom was coming at a higher price than she had expected. Suppressing the painful thought of the dying major, she replied, “I shall await that with anticipation.”
With a last, intimate glance, he withdrew. To dance with her twice in a row would draw attention. Instead, there was a tacit agreement between them that left her breathless with excitement. Finally, the only man she wanted was seeing her as a woman, and all because she was now married.
Coolly planning an affair made her uncomfortable, and she wasn't naive enough to think his plans went beyond an affair. But she strongly suspected that it would take intimacy for him to fully appreciate how perfect they were for each other.
If she lost her gamble as well as her maidenheadâwell, she wasn't made of stone. Though it would hurt badly to have him decide he liked her well enough for his bed but not well enough to be his duchess, there would be compensations. She had a normal woman's curiosity about passion, and she found Candover so attractive that she would surely enjoy what he had to teach.
Would he be horrified or intrigued when he learned she was a virgin? She assumed he was clever enough to understand the implications of her spending her wedding night alone at a private ball. Her hope was that he would be pleased.
The two months until September stretched endless and empty before her.
Chapter 5
S
ally tossed restlessly all night after she left the hospital, angry at the memory of the cool society beauty who had so casually used and discarded her brother. Even during her lessons with the Launceston children the next morning, her mind continued to churn.
ally tossed restlessly all night after she left the hospital, angry at the memory of the cool society beauty who had so casually used and discarded her brother. Even during her lessons with the Launceston children the next morning, her mind continued to churn.
As she left for her daily trip to the hospital, she realized she had been jolted out of her fatalism. For the last fortnight she had passively accepted the doctors' verdict on David's fate. Now her anger had given her a resolve not to give in so tamely. David was in no condition to fight for his life, but she was. If there was anything or anyone who might offer a chance of recovery, she would pursue it.
Before going to her brother's room, Sally sought out her brother's physician, Dr. Ramsey, determined to question every possibility. Dr. Ramsey was a solid man with an air of permanent fatigue. Unlike many of his colleagues, he was willing to admit the limits of his knowledge.
He blinked warily behind his spectacles when Sally caught him between patients, knowing from experience how persistent she could be. “Yes, Miss Lancaster?” he said with a rising inflection that implied he had very little time to talk.
“Dr. Ramsey, isn't there anything more that can be done for my brother? He's fading away in front of my eyes. Surely there must be something you can do.”
The physician removed his spectacles and polished them. “Major Lancaster's case puzzles me. He's holding on to life with remarkable tenacity, but there is so little that can be done in cases of paralysis.” He set his spectacles firmly on his nose. “Besides the paralysis, I suspect that he has sustained internal injuries which are beyond our present power to heal. All we can do is make his last days as comfortable as possible.”
Sally caught his wandering eye before he could escape. “I don't wish to criticize your care. I know you've done everything you can, and I am profoundly grateful. Stillâis there any physician or surgeon in London who might have a different approach, perhaps something that is radical by the usual standards? There is little to lose.”
Dr. Ramsey nodded. After a long moment of thought, he said, “There's a mad Scot called Ian Kinlock at St. Bartholomew's Hospital. I hear that he just returned from Belgium and several weeks doing surgery after Waterloo. Very eccentric, but he's done some remarkable things.”
The physician glanced at Sally's modest dress. “He's qualified as both physician and surgeon, and his fees for private consultations are very high. Apparently he charges people with money a great deal, then gives free care to gutter scum. Quite, quite mad. You'll never persuade him to call on a patient at the York Hospital.”
“I have just come into some money unexpectedly. We shall see.”
She turned and strode down the hall. Behind her, she heard Dr. Ramsey mutter, “God help Ian Kinlock.” She didn't dignify the comment by looking back.
Her mind was spinning as she walked to David's room. Consulting a new surgeon was grasping at the thinnest of straws, but as long as there was any hope at all, it was worth trying. Besides, she liked the idea of spending Lady Jocelyn's money in a way that might benefit David. St. Bartholomew's Hospital was one of the oldest and busiest in London, and she recalled vaguely that it was a center for surgery. It was near St. Paul's Cathedral, and she would need to hire a hackney coach. . . .
Distracted, she almost collided with a hefty young man in a powdered wig and blue livery outside David's door. After a moment she recognized him as the footman who had been present at the mockery of a wedding the day before. Morgan, his name was.
“Come to see if your mistress's husband is dead yet?” she asked caustically. She felt ashamed of herself when the young man flushed scarlet. He was too easy a target; it wasn't fair to blame him for Lady Jocelyn's want of conduct.
“I came to take my brother home, Miss Lancaster,” he said stiffly. “Lady Jocelyn asked me to inquire after Major Lancaster while I was here.”
“Your brother is also a patient?” Sally asked in a more conciliatory tone.
“He was a corporal in the light dragoons, miss. Lady Jocelyn has offered him a position in her household and the chance to convalesce in her home,” Morgan explained. “She sent her own carriage to make the trip as easy as possible.”
The footman's words were intended to demonstrate his mistress's kindness to a woman who clearly did not value her ladyship. Instead, they sowed the seeds of an idea that burst instantly into full, radiant flower. This ghastly hospital was enough to make a well person ill, and she would have removed David if possible. But she couldn't take him to her employers or have afforded to hire lodgings and servants to care for him.
Now, however, an alternative had presented itself. Under English law, David owned the no-doubt luxurious house in Upper Brook Street that the Lady Jocelyn called home. The witch had no right to refuse him admittance. Sally would take her brother to Upper Brook Street, and if her unwanted sister-in-law objected, she'd bring the place down around her ladyship's shell-pink ears.
“How convenient that you have brought a coach,” she purred. “We can use it to move Major Lancaster to Lady Jocelyn's house.”
Morgan looked first startled, then alarmed. “I don't know, miss. Her ladyship asked me to inquire after him, but she said nothing about bringing him home.”
Fixing the hapless footman with the quelling stare she used on her students, Sally said, “No doubt she was worried about moving him. However, I just spoke with my brother's physician, and he agreed that there was nothing to lose by a change.” Which wasn't exactly what Ramsey had said, but she'd sort that out later.
Since Morgan still looked unconvinced, Sally moved in with the killing stroke. “After all, they are married. What was hers is now his. Surely dear Lady Jocelyn cannot wish her husband to stay in this, this”âshe gestured eloquentlyâ“unwholesome place.”
“It's true that her ladyship and the major seemed very fond,” Morgan said uncertainly. “And heaven knows my brother can't wait to leave this hospital. You're right, âtis not a healthy place.” He furrowed his brows before giving a decisive nod. “I'll move my brother to the carriage, then be back for Major Lancaster with a litter and someone to help me carry it. Will you pack his things, miss?”
“Of course.” As she watched him leave, Sally marveled at how easily he'd been convinced. She would have thought he'd be more wary of his spoiled mistress's wrath.
She sought out Dr. Ramsey again. That gentleman agreed gloomily that if the trip from Belgium hadn't killed the major, a journey across London probably wouldn't, and if it did, that would just be hastening the inevitable.
Ignoring the doctor's dire predictions, Sally returned to her brother's room. “Good news, David. Lady Jocelyn's carriage is here, and I have Dr. Ramsey's permission to move you to her home. I'm sure that you'll be more comfortable there than in the hospital.”
“She wants me to stay in her house?” he said with pleased surprise. “That was not part of our bargain. It's most kind of her.”
The idea that his “wife” cared enough to send for him made David look so happy that Sally didn't attempt to correct his misapprehension. Instead, she vowed that Lady Jocelyn would make him feel welcome if Sally had to hold a pistol to her head.
“I shan't miss this place.” David's tired gaze flickered over the drab walls. “Except for Richard.”
“He can visit you now that he's getting around so well. I'm sure he'll welcome an excuse to get out. I'll give him your new direction before I leave.” She began packing her brother's belongings into the box that had accompanied him from Belgium.
After finishing that, she lifted the bottle of laudanum. “Shall I give you a double dose? The trip is bound to be uncomfortable.”
“Too right. I think I'd prefer not to be aware of what is going on.” It was one of the few references he'd made to what Sally knew was constant pain. She uttered a fervent prayer that the carriage ride would not injure him further. If the strain severed his fragile hold on life, she would never forgive herself.
Hugh Morgan rode on the outside of the carriage, but the vehicle was still crowded with Sally, David, and the shy, crutch-wielding corporal jammed in together. Though Morgan had obtained planks and blankets and rigged a pallet across one side of the vehicle to hold the semiconscious major, Sally still winced as they jolted on every cobblestone between Belgravia and Mayfair.
When they reached Upper Brook Street, she said, “Please wait here until I've informed Lady Jocelyn that her husband has arrived.”
She marched up the marble steps and wielded the massive dolphin-shaped knocker. When a butler opened the door, she said, “I am Miss Lancaster, Lady Jocelyn's sister-in-law. Please take me to her ladyship, so I can ask her where she wishes her husband to be carried.”
Husband? The butler's eyes bulged; it was a tribute to Hugh Morgan's discretion that none of the servants had heard of the marriage. Pulling himself together, he said, “I believe Lady Jocelyn is in the morning room. If you will follow me . . .”
The house was every bit as luxurious as Sally had expected, a perfect background for its flawless mistress. She glanced around, hoping to find evidence of vulgarity, but to her regret, the house was furnished with impeccable taste.
Refusing to be daunted by the towering, three-story high foyer, Sally set her jaw pugnaciously as the butler ushered her into the morning room. Lady Jocelyn sat at a writing table, her daffodil-colored gown a perfect complement to her warm chestnut coloring. Sitting on the desk was a vase of flowers and a tawny cat. It was no plump cozy tabby, but an elegant, thin-boned feline of obviously aristocratic origins. In Sally's jaundiced view, the creature looked as expensive and unlovable as its mistress.
The butler said, “Lady Jocelyn, your âsister-in-law' wishes to speak with you.” His inflection managed to imply simultaneously that Sally was an impostor, and that if she was indeed genuine, Lady Jocelyn owed her faithful retainer an explanation.
Jocelyn looked up with surprise. It was a rude shock to see an angry young woman intruding on her, a hostile reminder of yesterday's unhappy events. “Thank you, Dudley. That will be all.”
Jocelyn's tone produced instant obedience. The butler beat a hasty retreat.
“Miss Lancaster. What an unexpected pleasure,” she said coolly. With a sudden deep pang, she wondered if Sally had come to say that her brother had succumbed to his wounds. No, she was unlikely to deliver the news in person. Probably she just wanted to harangue her unwanted sister-in-law again. “What brings you here today?”
The surly creature scowled. “I'm bringing David to your house.”
“What the devil are you talking about?” Jocelyn asked, startled.
If Miss Lancaster stuck her jaw out any farther, she was in danger of dislocating it. “A wife's property becomes her husband's on marriage. If you don't let David stay here, I'll . . . I'll make him leave all of your property to the Army Widows' and Orphans' Fund. He will if I ask him to.”
Jocelyn could feel her hands curling into fists. She hadn't felt such a desire to visit physical violence on someone since her nursery days. “What a touching example of sibling devotion. However, your brother himself suggested that my lawyer draw up a document waiving any claims against my estate.”
“He waived his rights?” Sally said in dismay.
“He did indeed. Obviously your brother inherited all of the Lancaster family honor, as well as any claim to looks.” Jocelyn reached for the bell cord. “If you do not leave in the next thirty seconds, I will have my servants remove you.”
Sally's face crumpled. “Lady Jocelyn, I know that you don't like me any better than I like you. But haven't you ever had anyone in your life that you loved?”
Jocelyn paused, wary. “How is that to the point?”
“If you had a choice, would you leave someone you loved to die in that vile place?”
Jocelyn winced as she remembered the hospital's grimness.
Seeing her reaction, Sally said, “You wanted to know if David could be made more comfortable. Well, he will be more comfortable here, and surely you have enough space and servants that he won't be a burden. If you want to bar me from visiting, so be it. If you ask me to return the entire settlement, I will.” Her voice broke. “But please, I beg of you, don't send David back to the hospital. Even if he has no legal right, surely you have a moral obligation to your husband.”
“Send him backâyou mean he's here
now
? Dear God, are you trying to kill him?” Jocelyn asked with horror, remembering how frail he'd been the day before.
now
? Dear God, are you trying to kill him?” Jocelyn asked with horror, remembering how frail he'd been the day before.
“He's in your carriage and has survived the trip. So far.” Sally said no more, but the implication that a longer journey might drive the last nail into his coffin hung in the air.
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