Wed Him Before You Bed Him (15 page)

Her blood began to pound. “You…you spoke to Mr. Pritchard?”

“I did indeed. And he informed me that the town has already approved Mr. Watson's license for a racecourse. Now all that's left is for him and Pritchard to come to terms on price. Pritchard expects that to happen soon.” He cast her a somber glance. “You can't have a racecourse next door, Charlotte.”

“Certainly not.”

“So you must resign yourself to moving the school elsewhere.”

She glared at him. “Not until I hear from my cousin.”

“Damn it, Charlotte, your cousin can do nothing about Pritchard!”

“You do not know that!”

“If he could have, don't you think he would have by now?”

She swallowed. Cousin Michael's abandonment was the cruelest stroke of all. “He did try, when Señor Montalvo seemed bent on building a pleasure garden. He intervened on our behalf.”

“And from what I understand, that ended up with one of your pupils eloping and causing another scandal for the school. How good of him to help.”

His sarcasm sent her over the edge. “Stay out of things you do not understand, David.”

“Oh, I understand very well,” he snapped. “You would rather trust some anonymous fellow who writes you let
ters and who, for all you know, is a complete bastard in the flesh, than a man who has known you for years and has your best interests at heart.”

“Why should I believe you have my best interests at heart? After what I did to you, you have no reason to want to help me.”

He stepped very near, lowering his gaze to her mouth. “You know better than anyone what reason I have. It's the same reason you came here tonight, despite your fears.”

There was no mistaking the look in his eyes. All of a sudden, she was having a great deal of trouble breathing. “I came here to get that list you promised me.”

“The hell you did.”

“I came to see Amelia.”

He bent toward her mouth. “Liar,” he whispered.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs made him curse under his breath. He backed away and turned to face the painting just as the butler cleared the top and went to announce that dinner was served.

As the others came out into the hall, Lady Kirkwood called, “Come, David. You're taking me in to dinner, are you not?”

When David hesitated, Charlotte gazed at him with abject panic. Of course he was. It was the only proper thing. If he didn't, it would be a clear signal to the rest of the family that there was something more between them.

Yet for half a moment she thought that he would actually flout propriety. He cast Charlotte a glance of such frustration that it made her blood quicken.

She mouthed the words, “Please don't.” The last thing she needed was to have his family set against her for tempting him into breaking the rules of mourning.

A muscle ticked in his jaw as he glanced to his mother. “Certainly, Mother.”

“And Giles will take in Mrs. Harris.”

Giles obligingly strode down the hall toward her.

David paused only long enough to murmur, “We're not done, sweeting,” before stalking off to join his mother.

The words had her fighting a shiver as she and Giles waited for the others to descend the stairs.
We're not done.
That held a promise as well as a warning. She was not sure which alarmed her more.

“Shall we?” Giles said with a smile, offering her his arm as the last couple went down ahead of them.

At least
he
could be congenial. Indeed, he seemed far more relaxed with her than he had been the last time they had spoken, a few years ago at a party they had both attended.

Casting him a furtive glance as they walked toward the stairs, she was reminded of how much he resembled David. No wonder she had mistaken them for each other on that fateful night. In the dark, with their hair the same color and their build so similar, anyone might have done so. Ah, but how different her life might have been if she hadn't!

As they reached the stairs, Giles dragged his steps to put them out of earshot of the others. “You look ravishing tonight,” he murmured.

She smothered a laugh. “I see that you never change, Mr. Masters.”

“Allow me to have
some
enjoyment, if you please. The life of a barrister is very dull.”

“I have trouble believing that. No one is good at what they do without having some passion for it, and I understand that you are quite good.”

He shrugged off the compliment. “
I
understand that you and my brother have been keeping company of late.”

“He is helping me with a matter at the school,” she said, not sure how much David had revealed to his brother about the legacy.

“Are you taking up with him again?” Giles asked bluntly.

She blinked.

“Forgive me. That was rude. And none of my business, I suppose.”

“So why do you ask?” Charlotte eyed him suspiciously. “Did your mother send you to enquire?”

Giles laughed. “Hardly.” He covered her hand with his. “Perhaps I'm just trying to figure out if
I
have a chance with you.”

Shaking her head, she removed his hand. “You forget—I now know what a rascal you are.”

He released an exaggerated sigh. “I see I shouldn't have told you my little secret when last we met.”

That was when she'd discovered that it was Giles she'd seen outside the window, and not David.

“Why
did
you tell me?” she asked.

His teasing smile faltered. “Because I had to know for sure if it was your seeing me with Molly that had ruined everything between you and David.” His gaze searched her face. “Why didn't you tell
me
that you never meant to send that letter to the paper?”

Apparently Giles had heard from David about her revelation earlier. “What would have been the point? By then he was married. Your telling him about the letter might have given him regrets, and I did not want old ghosts to damage his union with Sarah. I had already damaged his
life enough. I thought it easier for him to continue believing that I was a ‘vindictive bitch.'”

They cleared the bottom of the stairs and headed for the dining room, but Giles stopped her short of the dining room door. “He certainly doesn't think that now.” When she did not answer, he added, “So,
are
you taking up with him?”

She met his gaze steadily. “I honestly do not know.”

Sometimes the idea of being with David again was so tantalizing she could hardly bear it. And how lovely it would be to have a partner in her dealings at the school, to have someone else to share her burdens for a change.

But that meant marriage, and she doubted that he wanted that with her. Even if he did, David could not possibly feel the same attachment to the school as she. Would he expect her to close it? Sell it? To give up everything she had worked for, so she could play the doting wife?

She had played the doting wife once, and it had cost her everything. She did not mean to go through that again. Ever.

“Be careful with my brother, Charlotte,” Giles said softly. “Sarah's death hit him harder than any of us expected, and I wouldn't want—”

“Do not worry,” she said through a throat thick with emotion, “I have no desire to hurt him.”

“I am more worried that he will hurt
you
. He has not been himself in a long time, and I don't think he knows what he wants anymore.”

She had already sensed that. Marriage to Sarah had changed him—and a wise woman would be careful with a man who had lost his wife only months ago. “Do not worry about me either. I know how to handle men.”

“For my sake, I hope that's true.” A sudden grin split his face. “I could use some handling from a woman like you.”

A laugh sputtered out of her. “I swear, Mr. Masters,” she said, matching his light tone, “you are as incorrigible as your brother used to be. The difference is—he grew up. Apparently, you did not.”

“Growing up is vastly overrated,” Giles said blithely. “I avoid it whenever possible.”

She was still chuckling when they entered the dining room to find everyone awaiting them. Lady Kirkwood looked positively frigid, and David looked fit to be tied.

Clearly, it was going to be a very long night.

D
avid couldn't remember the last time he'd been so frustrated. Charlotte might as well be miles away; Mother had placed him as far from her at the dinner table as was possible.

At least she was nowhere near his rascal of a brother. Instead, she spent dinner between Amelia and Lucas, being entertained by stories of life in Morocco.

He should thank his damned cousin for letting it slip that David had once offered for Amelia. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so certain of Charlotte's feelings for him. But there was no mistaking the way that bit of news had upset her.

Good. It was about bloody time she had a taste of the jealousy he'd been swamped in for the last few days.

When they left the table at last, the men adjourned to the study for port and the women headed for the drawing room. Fortunately, since it was a family party, the men rejoined the women after only a couple of drinks. Unfortunately, when they entered the drawing room, one of his sisters accosted them with the proposal that they do some dancing.

David scowled at her. “That would be highly improper.”

“Well,
you
can't dance, as you're still in mourning,” she said petulantly, “but the rest of us can.”

“Of course you can,” Mother said, always willing to
indulge her daughters. “David will watch, and I shall play the music.”

“Mother, this is not remotely—” he began.

“Oh, don't be such a stuffed shirt,” she said as she removed her gloves and headed for their pianoforte. “It's just family; no one will know. It's not as if we're throwing a ball or anything.”

It might as well have been. The minute they decided there was to be dancing, the others rushed about, pushing back chairs, rolling up the rug, and settling on music. Charlotte alone looked uncomfortable with the scheme, though David noticed that she didn't let it stop her from accepting Giles's invitation to dance.

Wonderful. Now he had to stand by and watch as his damned brother swept her around the room. The same man whose inability to keep his prick in his trousers had been responsible for tearing Charlotte from David in the first place. Confound the bastard to hell.

As the pair glided through step after step, it occurred to him that never in all these years had he seen Charlotte dance. There'd been no dancing during their week at Berkshire. The few occasions David had seen her in society since then, she had been too busy guiding her young ladies to do any dancing herself.

What a pity. Because she danced splendidly. Her grace on the floor outshone any other woman's. Her fringe of auburn curls bounced with every step, and her blue gown swirled about her hips to give her the look of a blossom floating on the breeze.

A blossom that his brother seemed determined to pluck. Every other turn, he shot her provocatively displayed bosom a furtive glance.

David clenched his hands together behind his back to keep from marching over and dragging her away from Giles. He would deal with his little brother later. For now, he would content himself with imagining what it would be like to be in the man's place, resting his hand on that slender waist, smiling down into those shining eyes…making her laugh as Giles was now doing.

She and Giles had just finished their final circuit and the music of the pianoforte was dying when a commotion in the hall drew their attention.

“I'm not going to wait, damn you!” shouted a voice that he recognized only too well. “I want to know what's going on in there!”

David had only seconds to compose himself before a disheveled young man burst into the room, his face flushed with anger. Everyone in the party froze except for Winter, who was feverishly whispering to his wife, probably trying to determine who the man was.

The rest of them knew only too well. It was Richard Linley, Sarah's brother. And he was clearly drunk.

Bloody hell.

“Good evening, Richard.” David strode forward to meet his brother-in-law. “What brings you here tonight?”

“I can't believe it!” Richard cried, always a firebrand when he was in his cups. “You're having a party? Here?”

Mother rose from behind the pianoforte. “Not a party, dear, just a little family affair.”

“With dancing?” Swaying a bit on his feet, he shot David an accusing glance. “Might as well be dancing on her grave!”

Guilt stabbed David's conscience.

“Don't be silly, Richard,” Mother began. “We only—”

“Quiet, Mother!” David ordered. Catching the young man by the arm, he urged him toward the door. “Let's continue this discussion elsewhere, shall we?”

“Right, don't cause trouble in front of your friends, eh? She always said you cared for naught but appearances!”

Hearing his late wife's favorite accusation through the voice of his brother-in-law was unnerving. He didn't try to deny it, just dragged Richard out into the hall.

The young man wriggled free to face him down with a belligerent air. “You never cared a whit about her. Not one whit!”

“And you did?” David snapped. “Coaxing her into playing cards with you and your fast friends, introducing her to moneylenders. You might as well have handed her the knife she cut herself with.”

The minute Richard paled, he cursed himself for letting the young man's drunken nonsense goad him into speaking so cruelly.

He lowered his voice. “Forgive me, Richard. I didn't mean that. Blaming each other does us no good. She's gone, and there's naught we can do about that.”

When Richard straightened his clothes and dropped his gaze to the floor, David relaxed a fraction. Once the man's temper was spent, he could usually be reasoned with. Especially if he could be sobered up.

“Now,” David went on, “why are you here? It's not usual for you to pay me a visit at night.”

Glancing nervously back to where various members of David's family were peeking out to see what was happening, Richard said, “Could we go somewhere more private?”

“Of course.” Telling a servant to bring coffee to the
study, David led his brother-in-law there. He was fairly certain what Richard wanted to discuss, and he needed the man sober for that.

As soon as they entered, Richard dropped into a chair and buried his head in his hands. The gesture reminded David of how very young he was.

At twenty-three, Richard was the eldest of Sarah's siblings and heir to her wealthy banker father. When David had first met him, he'd been indulging regularly in the usual bad habits of a rich youth—drinking, gambling, and wenching. Once he'd come of age, however, he'd seemed to start maturing. Then Sarah had died. Now his father was at his wit's end with him again.

Although initially Linley senior had assumed that David was merely another fortune-hunting wastrel, the man had eventually changed his opinion. After David had turned his own family's fortunes around with the help of shrewd investments and Sarah's money, Linley senior had begun to consult him on business matters. They'd been on such good terms in the past few years that he'd also recently turned to David for more personal advice…on how to handle his reckless son.

David feared he'd been little help. Sarah's death had sent the young man spiraling downward. As Sarah's darling, Richard had always been the only person to garner her affection. Without her to spoil and pet him, he seemed lost these days, and neither David nor Linley senior knew what to do about it.

“What can I do for you this evening?” David asked, never certain whether to take a tone of sternness or indulgence with the fellow. Sternness hadn't worked on Giles, but neither had indulgence. Some men had to thrash their
way through to adulthood on their own. David suspected that Richard was one of them.

Richard lifted his head and reached for a cup of the coffee that the servant had brought in. He clasped it between his hands, staring into its dark depths. “I need a thousand pounds. Father won't give it to me, and I thought—”

“We went over this last week,” David said gently. “I didn't mind covering your debts at first, but now your father has requested that I not do so. He says you'll only keep gambling, and he doesn't want to feed your vice.”

The requests for money had begun after Sarah's death. Before that, Richard had never asked for so much as a penny from David. According to his father, until then he'd had only minor gambling debts. But these days he seemed determined to follow in Sarah's footsteps. It alarmed David as much as it did Linley senior.

Richard drank shakily from the cup. “It's not for gambling, I swear. It's…I…well, there's a girl I sort of…got with child, and she says she'll tell Father if I don't give her money.”

“So she wants blackmail, is that it?” David said, unable to keep the disapproval from his tone.

A flush spread over the young man's cheeks as he set his cup down on the desk. “I can't have her telling Father. He'll skin me alive!”

“Very well. Send the girl to me, and I'll take care of it.”

The panicked expression crossing Richard's face told the whole tale. The chap was lying.

David scowled. “Surely you didn't think me such a fool that I would just hand a thousand pounds over to you to give some girl.”

Richard shot to his feet, his fists clenching. “You're as
bad as Father! The two of you, so pompous and sure of yourselves. The money isn't even yours! It's Sarah's, damn it! And she would want you to help me. You know she would!”

“But I'm not Sarah. I know it sometimes takes a firm hand to guide a young man.” The firm hand his own father had wielded. “Go to your father. Tell him the truth. Promise him whatever he requires, and then hold to your promise. That's the only way to end this madness.”

“Perhaps I don't wish to end it,” Richard said with a sneer. “Perhaps I don't want to end up like you and him, old and settled and boring.”

“That's your choice. But speaking from experience, gambling, wenching, and drinking can deprive you of much that you'll come to regret losing.”

Of course the words fell on deaf ears. They generally did.

As soon as Richard stormed out, David dropped wearily into the chair behind his desk. Bloody hell, sometimes he
felt
old and boring. But it was better than suffering agonies of regret for mistakes one made in one's youth.

All right, so he hadn't saved himself from that. But he refused to stand by and do nothing while Richard made the same errors. He would force the man to see sense…even if he had to cut him off completely to do it.

 

From their vantage point near the drawing room door, Charlotte and Giles saw Richard storm past, headed for the stairs. “Poor thing,” she whispered.

“Poor thing, my ass,” Giles growled, then realizing whom he was speaking to, added, “Forgive my language, but he's driving David mad.”

“You have to expect that. The young man is grieving.”

And finding his in-laws engaged in rank frivolity couldn't have helped. Charlotte probably shouldn't have allowed Giles to talk her into a dance, but it had been so long since she'd had the chance to kick up her heels, and Lady Kirkwood had made it sound perfectly harmless.

She winced. The minute David had frowned on it, she should have taken
his
stance. “Will your brother be all right?”

Giles was still staring at the doorway with a distracted expression.

“Giles?” she prodded.

“Hmm?” He jerked his gaze back to her. “Sorry, I was…woolgathering. You have no idea how awful it's been for David since he married that spoiled chit. Even with only eleven years between them, he was more of a father than a husband to her, since she didn't have the sense God gave her. I'm sure that's why Richard is casting him in the same role.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “But I suppose I shouldn't speak ill of the dead.”

“No need to apologize,” she demurred, though the virulence in his tone had shocked her. “We all knew how…difficult Sarah could be sometimes. I only wish I had been better able to impress upon her the dangers of gambling.”

“It wasn't just the gambling. Sarah had other problems.”

Charlotte stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“She had a dark side. One she didn't even show David.”

A chill ran down Charlotte's spine. “But she showed
you
?”

He glanced at her, suddenly wary. “It doesn't matter anymore. She's gone now.”

She was about to press him about Sarah's “dark side” when David appeared in the doorway. The minute she spotted him, Charlotte's throat tightened with a mix of concern and pity. He bore the look of a man who'd fought demons and ended up skewered on a pitchfork for his trouble.

She wanted to comfort him, but this was not the time or place. He needed his family about him now.

Purposefully, she headed for him. “I think I had better leave,” she murmured. “I do not wish to be in the way.”

“You're not in the way.” He cast a glance to where his sisters and his mother were conferring. “But if you want to go, I'll take you home. Just give me a moment to speak to Mother.”

“I came in my own carriage. I do not need an escort.”

His brow lowered. “London is dangerous this time of night, Charlotte.”

“And it has been just as dangerous for years, yet I continue to come and go as I please.” When he cast her a bleak look, she added more gently, “Terence has not failed me yet. Besides, if you accompany me home, how will you return?”

He released a sigh. “At least let me see you out.”

“Very well.” In truth, she welcomed the chance to speak to him privately and make sure he was all right.

It took her a few minutes to thank her hostess and say her good-byes to her friends. After she and the Winters settled upon a day and time for Amelia to visit the school with her girls, she rejoined David.