The Earl's Secret Bargain (13 page)

“And if they
don’t?”

“Then you demand your own home. There’s no rea
son why you have to live under the same roof as him.”

Regina considered her mother’s words and decided she had nothing to lose.
“All right. I’ll leave London.”

Her mother hugged her again, this time openly crying.

“I thought you’d be happy I was doing this,” Regina replied.

“I am, but I’m going to miss you. You’ll always be my little girl, no matter how old you get or how many children you have.”

“Mother, what is wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong, dear.
I just want the best for you, and it’s my fault you’re stuck in this predicament. If I wasn’t pushing you so hard to get married to a titled gentleman, you might be happily betrothed right now.”

Regina put her arm around her mother’s shoulders, touched her mother fretted so much over her happiness. “Yo
u did it because you love me. Neither one of us knew about the wager. We acted with what knowledge we had at the time.”

“Can you forgive me for trying to push you toward Lord Pennella?”

Smiling, Regina squeezed her mother’s shoulders. “Of course. I might not have been fond of him, but I had no idea he was as bad as he is.”

And even now, Regina didn’t know just how ‘bad’ bad really was. She only had an idea, but it was enough to make her grateful she wasn’t married to him. Her mother
embraced her, and Regina closed her eyes and hugged her back. For the first time in her life, Regina felt a close connection with her. The wager had changed things for the better between her and her mother. She could only hope she might one day say the same thing about her husband.

Toby stared out the window of the townhouse, wondering when Regina would return. She’d been gone for two hours now, and though she had married him yesterday, he wasn’t sure she’d come back. He kept reminding himself that her clothes and other personal items were in her bedchamber upstairs. And it wasn’t like she said anything about leaving. But he still found himself watching the clock in the drawing room and pacing the floor.

It was ridiculous, of course. He was acting like a lovesick
school-aged boy, pining away for a lady’s affections. He had never been in love before, and he didn’t care much for how vulnerable it made him. When he first met her, he had no idea how important she’d become to him, but now that she’d lodged a place in his heart, he knew he could never love anyone else.

Catching a glimpse of a lady walking down the sidewalk, his heartbeat picked up, thinking it might be Regina. But it wasn’t. He sighed and paced the room once more. She was coming back. She only went out to spend the day with her
mother. It would be all right. He wasn’t going to have one of those marriages where the wife lived in one place and the husband lived in another. They would live under the same roof.

S
he’d give him a chance to redeem himself. He hoped. Taking a deep breath to help settle his nerves, he returned to the window, praying he’d see her this time.

“My lord,” his butler called from the doorway.

Toby jerked and spun around. After recovering from his shock, he relaxed. “Yes?”

“Lord
Reddington is here to see you. Should I send him in?”

Good. Orlando would be a nice
distraction while he waited for Regina to return. “Please do.” He gave one last glance out the window then forced his gaze to his friend as he entered the room. “You want some brandy?”

Grimacing, he shook his head. “My head is still hurting from the memory of my hangover. I’ll just have tea.”

Toby asked the butler to bring them tea and waited for the gentleman to leave before saying, “You missed all the excitement at White’s yesterday.”

His lips curled up into a smile. “So I heard. Why don’t you sit?”

“Oh, well…” Without meaning to, Toby looked out the window. Regina was still gone.

“She’s not here?”

Knowing exactly who his friend meant, he shook his head. “No. She went to her mother’s.”

“That’s understandable.” He gestured to the chair
across from him. “Sit down. Standing up won’t make her come home any sooner.”

Deciding his friend was right, he sat down but couldn’t relax. “You don’t
think she’s out looking for her own townhouse, do you?”

“It
’s possible.”

“You were suppose
d to assure me that she’s not doing such a thing.”

Orlando’s eyes widened innocently
, and he shrugged. “But it is possible. Unlikely,” he consented when Toby glared at him, “but possible.”

“Some friend you are.”

“What do you want me to say? That everything is going to work out?”

“Y
es.” Because he’d been praying all morning that would be the case.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen. If you’d told her about the w
ager from the beginning, this wouldn’t be an issue right now.”

“I couldn’t do that. We made the wager at White’s, and it was to be a secr
et for all the gentlemen there.”

“While that’s true, the secret could have been between you and her as well. There was no reason the rest of us had to know you told her.”

“If I’d done that, I don’t think she would have let me see her.”

“There’s no way of knowing if that’s true or not because you can’t go back in time and tell her.”

Toby leaned forward and rubbed his forehead. “Why do you have to make so much sense?”

Laughing, he said, “It’s easier to see things fairly when you’re not involved.”

“Unfortunately, that’s true.”

“All is not lost. At leas
t she married you. There’s still a chance you can turn this thing around.”

Toby waited until the butler brought in their tea and left before speaking again, this time using a lower voice. “Pennella sent me a missive yesterday,
and I received it as soon as she and I came home from the wedding breakfast.”

Eye
brow arched, Orlando gestured for him to continue. “And?”

“Pennella said that I won the second wager and that I should come to White’s to get my money.”

“So that’s why you struck him. I have to admit I’m impressed.” Orlando picked up the teapot and poured tea into their cups. “I didn’t think you had it in you. And I heard you got him pretty good.”

“That’s not the po
int. She was here when the butler gave me the missive.”

“So?”

“So she thinks I made another wager with Pennella, except this time, I was betting that she’d be foolish enough to actually marry me.”

Orlando stopped p
ouring the tea and studied him. “You didn’t actually tell her the contents of that missive, did you?”

“I let her read it.” When Orlando shook his head, he added, “After all the lyin
g I did, telling her another one wasn’t going to do me any favors.”

“But
telling her the truth about the missive didn’t help things either.”

“You’re the one who told me to be honest with her from the beginning, to tell
her Pennella and I had made a wager for the estates.”

“Telling her that
would have made sense.” He finished pouring the tea and handed Toby his cup. “Letting her read the missive didn’t.”

“Either I’m going to be honest with her about everything from now on
, or I’m not going to be honest at all,” he snapped. Why did it seem that no matter what choice he made, he couldn’t win?

“I’m sorry, Toby. I’m not trying to be harsh. I’m just saying that there are times when the
truth works in your favor and times when it doesn’t.”

“If Ger
ard Addison hadn’t reported the wager in the
Tittletattle
, it wouldn’t even be an issue.”

“True,” Orlando consented then drank some of his tea.

Toby stared at the cup in his hands. The tea reminded him of that morning when he’d been having breakfast with Regina. He hadn’t tasted it since he was so worried he might say or do something to make her run out of the room. And now, as he peered down at his cup, he didn’t know if he’d ever enjoy tea again.

“You must love her,” Orlando commented. “Even when you realized you had no money to your name, you didn’t look so
miserable.”

“I’m
faring no better than you did the night you found out Miss Boyle was getting married.”

“At least it isn’t too late for you.” He took a drink of tea and softly said, “I envy you. Things may not look promising, but there’s still hope. Once Miss Boyle got married, there was nothing else I could do.”

Orlando had a point. He was married to Regina, and there was no way she could divorce him. But—he glanced out the window again—she could decide not to live with him.

“You want to know what I think?” Orlando asked as he
set his cup on the tray and stood up.

“What?”

“That you might do well to leave London. Take Regina to the country. Get away from all the gossip. Don’t let Pennella do something else.”

Toby
sighed and took a sip of tea. It was still too hot. How did Orlando drink it? “I promised Regina we’d stay here for another month. She wants to be near her parents for a while longer.”

After a moment, Orlando nodded. “I can’t blame her. And who knows? Maybe her father will talk her into thinking of you differently. He seemed to like you
well enough at the wedding.”

It was
a small comfort, but his friend was right. Having her near her father might work in his favor…as long as there wasn’t another rumor about a wager.

“Let me know when yo
u get to Greenwood. I’d like to pay you a visit,” Orlando said.

“I will.”

As soon as Orlando left, Toby put the cup down and resumed his vigil by the window. He stood there for twenty minutes when he finally saw her walking down the sidewalk. She came back!

But before he could enjoy the knowledge that she hadn’t stayed away forever, another horrible thought struck him. What if she was coming to g
et her things? His steps slowed on the way to the door of the drawing room. If that was the case, he’d rather not know.

The front door opened, and the footman greeted her.

“Where is Lord Davenport?” she asked.

Toby swallowed. She was looking for him? This was either good or bad, and considering how things had been going, he was afraid it would be bad.

“He’s in the drawing room,” the footman answered.

Toby quickly went to the books
helf and grabbed a book. The last thing she needed to know was that he’d been waiting like a sad puppy for her to return. He leaned back in a chair and opened the book so he’d look as if he was reading.

As soon as he saw her enter the room, he lowered the book and straightened in the chair. “Did you have a good
time?”

“It went
better than I expected,” she said as she removed her gloves.

“Oh?” Did she find another townhouse? He
gritted his teeth so he wouldn’t ask.

“Yes. It turns out my mother isn’t the lady I thought she was.”

She didn’t mention another townhouse. That was good. But he wasn’t sure where she was going with this. He closed the book and set it on his lap. “I’m glad you had a good visit. May I ask what you two discussed?”

He hoped she’d sit and talk. As it was, she was tel
ling him more than she had in the past few days. If he could keep her talking, maybe they’d begin to work through the hurt he’d caused her.

She cleared her throat and tapped h
er foot on the floor. “While I was there, I made a decision.”

Glancing from her foot to her hands
, which were wringing the gloves, he gulped. This didn’t look promising. She looked much too nervous, as if she had some unpleasant news to share and didn’t know how to do it. He finally ventured a glance at her face and saw the resolute spark in her eyes. Whatever she decided, she was determined to follow through with it.

He braced himsel
f for the worst. “What did you decide?”

“You were right. We should leave London.”

At first, he wasn’t sure he heard her right. “Pardon?”

“It’s possible that you are telling me the truth about the missive Pennella sent yesterday, and if I’m to give you a fair chance, I need to get away from here. At your estate, Pennella won’t have the opportunity to do something else.”
She made eye contact with him.

He blink
ed for several seconds, still trying to figure out what she was saying.

“Did you hear me?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed as she studied him.

He stood up, clasping the book to his chest. “I’m sorry. I…” He dropped his book and tried to pick it up, but he couldn’t seem to get a good grasp on it. Finally, he managed to retrieve it and offered her a hesitant smile. “I thought you were going to tell me that you wanted to live in another townhouse. I’ve been so worried that I haven’t been in the right frame of mind.”

She closed the gap between them
and studied the title of the book. “I will accept that as a true statement. You were reading
A Lady’s Guide to Etiquette
.”

His gaze lowered to the book an
d heat rose to his face. Good heavens! The book must belong to the townhouse owner’s wife. Not knowing what else to do—and trying not to die of embarrassment—he quickly put it back on the shelf. “I wasn’t reading it. I…um…well, I just wanted to look like I was busy when you came in.”

“Why?”

He winced. Did he really have to answer her question? He turned his gaze to her, hoping she wouldn’t make him do it, but her gaze remained fixed on his, so he had no choice. Finally, he said, “I spent the morning waiting for you to return. I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again.”

“Oh.” She paused for a moment
. “The thought didn’t occur to me. I knew I’d be coming back.”

That was a relief.

“But,” she continued, “I’m still not convinced you told me the truth about the missive from yesterday. Even so, I realize that Pennella is a problem. I’m not sure what kind of problem, but as long as we’re in London, he does have a way to come between us. I didn’t marry him. I married you. I owe it to you to give you a chance.”

“Thank you, Regina,” he whispered.

She nodded. “I’d like you to get a better carriage than the one you currently have. I’m guessing the trip to your estate will take a couple days?”