The Earl's Secret Bargain (15 page)

“Is there something you wish to tell me, Lord Pennella?” she asked, her anger prompting her to exhibit a boldness that would have even made her mother run to another room.

He blanched, and she could tell he was struggling to come up with a sensible reply. Except, there wasn’t one. She knew full well that he had no excuse. He was acting out of spite, trying to make things even more difficult for Toby. And even if she was still hurt from the wager, she couldn’t accept someone treating Toby this way.

“I believe the silly wager you and my husband came up with is at an end,” she said,
her tone leaving no room for argument. “I know everything. I know you bet each other’s estates. I know the wager fell apart the minute it was printed in the
Tittletattle
. I know you sent him the missive on my wedding day, and I know you lied about the second wager. I know you sent a lady to my room with the intention of making me believe my husband intends to share a bed with her. I know everything you’ve done and are doing. If you hope to make things difficult for me and my husband, it won’t work.”

She took a deep breath and stared at him, waiting to see if he would respond. But the fool only looked at her as if he was trying to figure out what was going on.

“I was going to choose Lord Davenport,” she finally said. “You never had a chance, regardless of what my mother wanted. Even if I had to create a scandal or run off to Gretna Green to avoid a future with you, I would have done it. So you’re much better off with things the way they are. This way you got to keep your estate.” After a moment, she added, “You lost, my lord. Go home and deal with it.”

She slammed the carriage door.

The innkeeper hurried after her. “My goodness, my lady, but that was mighty impressive.”

“It was a long time in coming,” she muttered as she entered the inn.

“My lady,” the innkeeper said, jumping in front of her so she had to stop, “forgive me for being blunt, but I fancy a lady who isn’t afraid to speak her mind. If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.”

“Actually,
I wouldn’t mind a hot bath to calm my nerves.”

“It will be my
pleasure to have one brought up for you.”

Since he was so obliging, she asked, “May I also have a cup of green tea with a hint of peppermint?”

“As my lady wishes, it shall be.”

“Thank you.”

She marched up the steps and headed down the hall. Her steps slowed outside Toby’s room, but she continued on until she reached her room. She’d had enough excitement for the night. All she wanted to do was take a bath, eat dinner, sip her tea, and go to bed. She could deal with Toby tomorrow.

As soon as she entered her room, she went to the windo
w and was satisfied when she saw Lord Pennella’s carriage heading down the road, back in the direction of London.

The next morning after they ate, Toby led Regina to their carriage. Before she got in, he noticed she stopped for a moment and glanced around, as if looking for something.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

After a moment, she shook her head. “No, nothing’s wrong.” Then she climbed into the carriage.

Wondering what she’d been looking for, he scanned the area but didn’t see anything of interest. With a shrug, he set
tled into the seat beside her.

The carriage moved forward,
and he spent the first hour staring out the window, not really seeing anything. He couldn’t help but run through everything that had happened since that day at White’s when Pennella came in bragging he could get any lady he wanted. Why did he keep torturing himself by thinking of all the things he should have done?

No matter how much he wished it, nothing was going to change the past. There was only
one thing he didn’t regret, and that was meeting Regina. He didn’t think he would have gone up to her any other way. He’d been too afraid to go up to any lady because of his financial ruin.

He glanced at Regina who was staring out the window on he
r side of the carriage. He frowned. She seemed to be searching for something. “Did you forget something at the inn? Should we go back?”

She turned her gaze in his direction and shook her head. “No. Everything is all right.”

Since she wasn’t more forthcoming, he settled for nodding and picked up the very dull book he’d brought along for the trip. Most of the time, he stopped reading it and only stared down at it so she’d assume he was reading instead of thinking about her. If the wager had never been exposed, he thought they might have spent their time in the carriage kissing and holding each other. She might have even felt well enough to talk to him.

When the carriage came to a stop so they could take a break, he asked her if she wanted to take a brief stroll with him. He hadn’t expected her to agree, but to his surprise, she did.

“A walk will help ease the stiff muscles,” she explained, probably seeing the surprise on his face.

“Yes, it will.” If that was why she agreed, he’d take it. At least sh
e wasn’t choosing to walk in another direction from him. “We should arrive at Greenwood right before dinner tonight.”

She nodded. “I was going to ask you how much longer we have to go.”

He wished she had asked. It would help him know what she wanted to talk about if she’d ask him something. He’d even be delighted to talk about something as simple as the clouds in the sky or birds flying in the air as long as he knew it would interest her. But she offered no questions, so he opted to tell her—or rather warn her—about Greenwood.

“I’m afraid Greenwood isn’t exactly what you’re used to,” he began, even now resisting the urge to cringe as he remembered the way he’d left it.

“Is it a little cottage?” she asked.

It took him a moment to realize she’d offered a joke. W
ith a smile, he said, “No. It’s large. What I meant was that… Well, it’s been years since it’s been maintained. As soon as we married, I sent servants to fix it up so it would be deserving of you. But I’m afraid the poor staff will need longer than a couple days to restore it to its former glory.”

“How bad is it?”

Her inquiry was made directly, and thankfully, there was no indication that she was disappointed. Maybe she had expected it. If that was the case, then he felt better already. “The lawn is overgrown, the stables show wear and tear, and the manor itself is in need of repair. Though,” he added, “the inside needs it more than the outside. That should make the staff’s job easier. And the furniture isn’t so bad. I made sure to keep it covered to help preserve it. I also did it to protect it from dust.”

She glanced at him, her eyebrows furrowed in that familiar
cynical way of hers, which still had a tendency to endear her to him. Other gentlemen might have been put off by it, but he liked it.

“May I ask how your
estate came into such poor condition?” she asked.

“My father wasn’t a good businessman. And, he had a weakness for the gambling hells, especially when he got drunk.”

“I hear a good number of titled gentlemen lose their fortunes that way.”

“Y
ou heard right.”

She stopped and turned to him, so he paused and looked at her. She had a way of looking at him w
ith those amazing green eyes that made him want to hold her. And even more than that, he had the inclination to get on his knees and beg her to forgive him.

But before he gave into it, she asked, “When you and
Lord Pennella picked me, was it because of my father’s money?”

“No. I didn’t realize you came from money until I came to your townhouse to take you to Hyde Park.”

“Then why me?”

“You weren’t easily given to flattery. Pennella relies on his charm to get his way with
the ladies. I figured he wouldn’t get away with it when he tried to charm you.”

She smiled, and this time there was a hint of pleasure in her eyes. “Thank you, Toby. That’s one of the nicest things anyone ever said to me.”

He wanted to ask her why she said that, but the coachman called out that the horses were ready. It was enough they’d shared a pleasant moment. He wouldn’t press his luck by saying anything else. He followed her to the carriage and got ready to continue their journey. This time when he opened the book, he didn’t mind the silence so much.

***

The next morning, Regina wrote a missive to her parents in the drawing room. When she was done, she decided to see what Toby was doing. He’d given her a quick tour of the place when they arrived the previous evening, but it’d been late. They’d only had enough energy to eat a quick dinner before retiring to their separate bedchambers.

Now, as she searched through the rooms, she wondered if Toby had decided to take a nap. While she’d gotten a good night’s sleep, she was still a bit tired from their journey. But she knew she’d never be able to sleep right now.

She was ready to give up her search when she finally saw him in a room lined with portraits of his ancestors. She entered the room just as he took down one of the portraits off the wall to dust.

“Are you so bored you’re wiping down the portraits?” she asked in a teasing tone.

He glanced at her and smiled. “I thought I’d make myself useful.”

“T
here are a lot of rooms in this place. The maids will probably have more than enough to do for the entire winter.”

“There’s no doubt about it,” he agreed and carefully wiped the cloth along the frame.

“How far back do these portraits go?”

“Six generations.”

“That long?”

He nodded. “My family was a vain sort. They liked to see themselves as much as possible.”

Chuckling at his joke, she closed the distance between them and looked at the woman in the portrait he was holding. “Well, I can see why. The lady in that portrait is beautiful.”

“That was my mother. She was only eighteen when it was painted.”

“She looked happy.”

“She was.”

Noting the hint of sorrow in his voice, she studied him. “She wasn’t always that way?”

“She had a difficult time conceiving, and when she finally did, she had a difficult pregnancy. After I was born, she wasn’t able to successfully have anoth
er child. I think the strain was too much for her, and she gave up on living. Then after that, my father took to drinking all the time, and the estate suffered for it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He turned his gaze to her, and despite the sadness in his eyes, she could tell that he’d made his peace with the situation years ago. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to give me an heir and have a second son in case something happens to the first one.”

So that was why his mother took the inability to have another child so hard. Recalling the convers
ation she’d shared with him the day they went to Hyde Park, she thought over his assurance that it wouldn’t bother him if she had girls instead of boys. At the time, she hadn’t been completely sure he meant it. But now she knew he had and, more importantly, she knew why.

Cupping his face with her hands, she kissed him. “Thank you. It is a lot of pressure to put on a lady.”

“I know, which is why I don’t want you to go through it.”

She lowered her hands and found a clean cloth nearby. “Would you like some help getting these portraits cleaned up?”

“I thought you were writing a letter to your parents.”

“I finished it.”

“Already?”

“Well, I was in the drawing room for almost an hour.”

“That long?” He dug the pocket watch out of his pocket and looked at the time. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“Time usually passes fast when you’re busy,” she said as she retri
eved the cloth. “Mind if I help you?” She gestured to the other portraits.

“It’s tedious, boring work.”

“I don’t mind. Besides, it’ll give me a good chance to ask you about the people in them. I hope their stories aren’t as sad as your mother’s.”

“Most are happier.”

“That’s good.” She’d hate to think his entire family dealt with so much sorrow. “I know life isn’t always nice, but I still like to think some good can be found in this world.”

He placed his mother’s portrait back on the wall and brought down the one next to it. “This is my grandmother. She used to write poetry and short stories
for children. She’d read them to me when she came over. Hers was a happy story.”

Regina
took the portrait and chuckled. “You’d never know it since she isn’t smiling.”

“Yes, it’s ironic. She looked so serious, but when you got to know her, you learned she liked to tell jokes and sing cheerful tunes.”

“I suppose it goes to show there’s more to a person than what you first see.”

“I’d say that’s a good way of putting it.” He took down a portrait. This time, it was one of a gentleman. “My uncle,” he explained. “My father’s brother. Now, he was as dull as he looks in this picture. If he ever laughed, I don’t remember it.”

She chuckled. “You shouldn’t say such things of those who are no longer alive.”

“He’s alive.”

“He is?” She couldn’t recall him mentioning a close relative before.

“He’s in Asia. I’m not sure where. The last time he sent me correspondence, he said he was leaving India to go further east.”

As she ran the cloth over the frame in front of her, she waited for him to continue but he didn’t. She glanced over at him and saw he was dusting his uncle’s portrait. “Well?” she asked.

“‘Well’ what?”

“What else did he write you?”

With a grin, he said, “He told me what the weather had been like, what he had hoped it would be like, and what he would have done about it if he had the ability to control it.”

“That’s all?”

“It was enough. The correspondence was ten pages long.”

“Ten pages? And all he did was talk about the weather?”

“Yes. I’m not exaggerating.”

“So, what did you write back?”

“Not much. I wished him luck on handling the heat in the summer and sent him a good hat to help keep the sun off his eyes.”

Amused, she laughed.

“If I could have thought of anything else, I would have added it,” he assured her, also laughing.

Still smiling, she brought her attention back to her portrait, careful as she brushed the dust off the lady’s face.

“Regina?
”

Surprised by the tenderness in
his tone, she looked over at him.

“In the future,” he began, “if our children or grandchildren look at your portrait, I want them to say your life was a happy one, and I’ll do what I can to make that possible.”

He turned back to the portrait he was working on. Though she was deeply touched by his words, she honestly didn’t know how to respond. Deciding she didn’t have to, she went back to her portrait and resumed her work.

***

That evening after dinner, Regina waited until they were alone before asking, “May I take a look at the ledger? I’d like to see what the financial situation is, if you don’t mind.”

“You can see anything you wish,” he replied then shot her an apprehensive glance. “My ledger is in my bedchamber. I put it
there after we got here.”

It made sense he’d keep it there.
She should have expected it. But she hadn’t, and the thought of being alone with him in his bedchamber caused a bit of anxiety to come over her. Forcing it aside, she said, “That’s a sensible place to put it.”

She went with him up the stairs and to his bedchamber.
He lit the candelabra and held it up so she could get a better look in the dark room. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, she couldn’t help but examine her surroundings. The rest of the manor was greatly influenced by those who had preceded him, but in here, she got a real sense of who he was.