The Earl's Bargain (Historical Regency Romance) (6 page)

His youthful cousin, twirling his hat in his
hands, stepped forward and bowed to the two young women, his eyes
solely on the younger sister. "Good morning, ladies."

As they all gathered in the foyer, Louisa
turned to Ellie. "Do allow Mr. Coke to take you for a stroll about
the square. I am sure you will find the information I have to
impart to Lord Wycliff rather tedious."

Louisa noted the amusement twinkling in Mr.
Coke's eyes before he donned his hat and offered Ellie his arm as
the two strolled away.

Unaccustomed to being alone with Lord
Wycliff, Louisa's heart fluttered as she turned to him. "Won't you
follow me to the library?"

To her consternation, he
took her arm, just as his cousin had done to her sister. Did Ellie
feel as light and silly as she did right now? She had been so
entrenched in her own world she had given nary a thought to Ellie
and her relationship to the pleasant Mr. Coke. Now that she thought
about it, she realized Ellie had recited any number of favorable
comments about the young man. He
did
seem rather nice. And he acted with great
propriety toward her sister. Still. . .Louisa had never known a man
worthy of her trust.

She took a seat on the library's silken
settee facing Lord Wycliff. For a moment she forgot his presence.
She took note of her elegant surroundings and realized such
grandiose furnishings meant nothing to her. She neither needed nor
wanted such expensive finery. But she did need a roof over her
head, though that roof would never be in Kerseymeade. She would
beggar herself on the streets before she would ever step foot in
her father's house again.

Her stomach twisted at the memory that even
though she had been a dutiful wife to Godwin, he had not had the
goodness within him to provide for her future. She had received no
money this quarter, and the solicitor she had asked to investigate
the matter had not reported back to her.

The thought of being penniless as well as
homeless sent a sinking feeling to her stomach.

"You were quite the loveliest woman at the
ball last night, Mrs. Phillips," Lord Wycliff said.

"You know little of me, my lord, if you
think such a comment a compliment. Were you to say Lord Seymour
would speak to Parliament on behalf of my principles, that, sir,
would turn my head."

A wry grin slid across his handsome face.
"We shall continue to work to that end, ma'am."

"We?"

He nodded. "I confess you
have made a convert of me. You and I shall foist ourselves into
Society with the sole aim of
enlightening
the idle
nobles."

She threw a dubious glance
in his direction. Was he serious? Had she really converted him?
Would he really gain for them admission to the
ton
in order to educate the lords on
the need for reform? Somehow, she could not quite believe in Lord
Wycliff's sincerity. Except for the first day they met, he had been
nothing but sympathetic to her ideas, but for some unexplainable
reason, she doubted his earnestness.

"Does that mean you will take your seat in
Parliament, my lord?"

His answer was not as quick in coming as she
would have liked.

"I shall. Once I have my personal affairs in
order."

She stiffened. "And one of those personal
affairs, of course, is reclaiming Wycliff House."

"Yes." He watched her somberly.

Her breast heaved. "Very well, my lord. I
shall not only tell you the name of the solicitor, I shall allow
you to take me there this morning." That would save the fare for
the hackney, she thought with satisfaction. Two weeks previously
she had sold her cattle and carriage and been forced to dismiss the
groom when she'd learned there was no money.

She detected a flicker of satisfaction in
Lord Wycliff's face as he stood.

Her eyes passed quickly from his muscled
thighs to his flat stomach, then up to his strikingly wide
shoulders, and she drew in her breath as she stood.

"Do we have the companionship of my cousin
and your sister for our sojourn?" he asked.

She put hands to hips. "It
is
not
a sojourn,
my lord. Merely a business meeting. It so happens that I have
business myself with the solicitor, business of a private
nature."

"But you have not answered my question, Mrs.
Phillips."

She gave him a puzzled stare. Why did the
man rattle her so? Why did his presence have the ability to make
her thinking not quite straight?

"Do you need the chaperonage of your
sister?" he asked.

Did he think she as senseless as a
schoolgirl? Or an easy conquest? She would show him, arrogant
aristocrat that he was! "Of course I don't need a chaperon. I'm a
woman who was married for eight years. As a woman of such vast
experience I am not easily victimized by scheming men."

He gave out a laugh.
"Pardon, but surely a woman with such vast experience does not
attach that
scheming man
label to me."

"That, Lord Wycliff, remains to be seen."
Then she swept from the room and called Williams to fetch her
spencer.

"On the other hand, Lord
Wycliff," she said to him as she waited for her butler to return,
"I would rather not leave my maiden sister in the clutches of your
worldly cousin."
Worldly
cousin
? Such a dubious description of the
thus-far-worthy Mr. Coke sounded false even to her own
ears.

Lord Wycliff threw back his head and roared
in laughter. "I assure you my cousin is a most honorable man."

Louisa swung around to face him, her blue
eyes flashing. "Does not his father keep mistresses?"

Lord Wycliff's face went white and stern.
"Did we not agree on our first meeting that each man is an
individual and should be judged accordingly?"

Her face went red. She swallowed. "Of
course, you are right. Mr. Coke deserves to be evaluated on his own
merit. I apologize."

"I give you my word Edward is an honorable
man."

As if
his
word meant anything, but she dare
not question that now. She merely nodded, unable to meet his
scathing gaze.

Since it was so fair a day and since Louisa
knew Ellie and Mr. Coke would be bored beyond toleration at the
solicitor's, Louisa suggested leaving the two young relatives
behind.

"It is better that Miss Sinclair and my
cousin continue their enjoyment of the park outside," he
agreed.

After giving the solicitor's direction to
his driver, Lord Wycliff handed Louisa into his carriage, and to
her surprise, took his regular seat beside her. They had never
before been alone in the carriage. Ellie and Mr. Coke had always
sat on one side, she and Lord Wycliff on the other. She knew she
should scold Lord Wycliff and insist he sit across from her, but
her voice failed her. To ask him to do so was to imply there was
something improper in their sitting next to one another, and it
would embarrass her exceedingly for him to think she could imply
such things.

So during the ride to The City, she sat
beside him, outwardly complacent while a great quivering rocked
within her. It was some time before she trusted her voice not to
tremble as she spoke. "Should you prefer to meet with the
solicitor, Mr. Twining, in private?"

"I have nothing to hide from you, but Mr.
Twining may. You see, if I don't get from him the information I
seek, I plan to bribe the man."

Louisa knew she should act with outrage at
his arrogant actions, but instead she felt mildly pleased that he
was being truthful with her. Truth, she had found, was alien to
most men. "Then by all means, see him alone," she said. "Will you
mind waiting while I speak to him of my affairs -- which I heartily
want to hide from you, my lord."

He grinned. A devastatingly handsome grin.
The deuced man!

"Take as much time as you like."

The carriage turned to the right, and she
leaned into him, their thighs as close as pages in a book. And once
again that overwhelming deep-down stirring did havoc to her.

She avoided his gaze and hastily moved
back.

A moment later they were at Mr. Twining's
business establishment.

Lord Wycliff insisted she conduct her
business first.

When Louisa entered Mr. Twining's interior
office, the solicitor stood. He was the age of Godwin and had been
Godwin's solicitor since long before she and Godwin were married.
Like Godwin, he was fat, the buttons on his waistcoat straining
across his round belly. She averted her gaze to his pleasant face,
where his bushy gray sideburns drew her attention.

"I'm so sorry about Mr. Phillips," he began,
his eyes sweeping over her pale – non-mourning – dress.

"As you observe," she said curtly, "I chose
not to wear mourning. I am not here to discuss Godwin but to learn
in what financial circumstances he has left me."

Without being told to do so, she sat down in
front of the solicitor's desk in a broad chair with wooden
arms.

A look of -- what? Mistrust? Disapproval? Or
pity? -- flitted across his jowled face as he took a seat. He
coughed, then rang for his clerk. When the young man entered his
office, Mr. Twining instructed him to bring Mr. Godwin Phillips'
papers.

A moment later these papers were in Mr.
Twining's possession. He rifled through several pages, his eyes
skipping over the print. He coughed again. It was not a cough of
substance but one of hesitation.

"As I told you two weeks ago, Mrs.
Phillips," he began, "your husband did not own the house in
Grosvenor Square. He was actually more or less its caretaker for
his benefactor."

"His benefactor?" she asked
incredulously. Godwin had no close friends and, goodness knows, he
wasn't likeable enough to have a benefactor. Then she remembered
those nights when Godwin would tell her not to come down, that a
very important personage would be paying him a clandestine visit. A
Lord Something or Other he was. Not that Godwin had shared such
information with her. But because of the secrecy, she had stolen
through the dark hallways and tried to listen to the men talk. The
only thing she heard was her husband referring to the man as
my lord
.

"Who is this man?" she asked.

"I am not at liberty to say."

Her hands fisted in her lap, her mouth went
taut. "Then tell me what this man's relationship was to my
husband."

"That I am not privy to."

She shrugged. "Did my husband provide
another – smaller -- home for me?"

He sadly shook his head. "I'm afraid not,
Mrs. Phillips."

"As his only beneficiary, I am entitled to
my husband's estate."

"I do not deny that, Mrs. Phillips. It is
just that there is little to his estate. When he moved to London
permanently at the time of your marriage, he sold everything else
he owned, and as you know, your late husband had rather expensive
taste. His bills were enormous. Why his fees at Waiters
alone--"

"I am not interested in
Godwin's expensive lifestyle. I know the details only too well.
What I require, Mr. Twining, is the exact figure of what is left
from his extravagant spending. How much do I get?"
What a mercenary hussy Mr. Twining must think
me.

She leaned forward.

He cleared his throat. "As you know, none of
the furnishings within the Grosvenor Square house will come to
you." He rifled through papers, then coughed again. "I believe Mr.
Phillips had a total of thirty-seven pounds in his bank at the time
of his death. That will, of course, come to you."

She nodded, her anger swelling.

"Then, of course, all the jewelry and
clothing he bestowed on you are yours to keep."

That much she had known. Not that Godwin had
been all that generous to her. For the occasions they had gone to
fetes and balls, he had lavished her with jewelry she found gaudy
and wore only on those occasions when he insisted. These she still
possessed, and they should fetch enough to purchase a cottage, but
she certainly could not live the rest of her life on thirty-seven
pounds! Surely there had to be more money. After all, Godwin had
been a man of means.

"And as you know, Mr. Phillips settled your
father with a very generous amount of money upon your
marriage."

Her stomach turned over, and rage swept
through her. "How much?" she demanded.

"One thousand pounds."

An exorbitant sum! She could have lived on
such a sum for many years. She swallowed hard. "I don't want to
know of Godwin's expenses. I want to know what's left."

He coughed again. "Actually, that's all,
Mrs. Phillips. The money in the bank and your personal possessions.
Also, if you care to sell any of Mr. Phillip's personal
possessions, such as snuff boxes or fobs or--"

"I get the idea, Mr. Twining." She stood up,
regal and proud. "Tell me when I am to vacate my home."

"The house's owner has graciously said you
can stay there until the end of next month.

As she mentally calculated that Godwin's
possessions might fetch twenty or thirty pounds and that she had a
little over a month to find a new home, she rose and bid the
solicitor a curt good-day.

* * *

Harry did not like the worried look on Mrs.
Phillips' face as she left the solicitor's office. He fought his
unexpected urge to take her in his arms and smooth away her
troubles. Even if she was a bloody bluestocking.

He stood and met her somber gaze with one of
sympathy, then he squeezed her arm as he walked past her and
entered Mr. Twining's office, shutting the door behind him.

The clerk had announced him as Lord Wycliff.
Mr. Twining met the peer with a broad smile on his round face.
"What can I do for you today, my lord?"