With His Ring (Brides of Bath Book 2) (26 page)

At least Appleton had refrained from calling
her
Pixie
. Still, Gregory could not like Appleton butting
into his marital affairs. "What happens between my wife and me is
no concern of yours."

"Be that as it may, I don't like seeing her
get her head snapped off when she cares so deeply for you."

Glee care for him? He burst out
laughing.

"What's so humorous?"

He couldn't tell Appleton the reason for his
bitter mirth, no matter how close they were. "I was merely thinking
how adorable my wife is when she's in one of her
deeply-attached-to-me modes."

"I think you're deuced lucky to have her for
a wife."

Gregory sent Appleton a quizzing glance.
"You mean you no longer abhor the idea of marriage?"

"Well, I wouldn't want to be like Sedgewick.
The man lives and breathes for that wife and babe. It's different
with you and . . .Mrs. Blankenship. She allows you complete
liberty. She told me so yesterday when we was racing phae---"
Appleton clapped a palm to his mouth.

Gregory's brows drew together. "You raced
with my wife?"

"'Twasn't a real race."

"Where did this
faux
race take
place?"

"On the road from Bath to Winston Hall. And
we didn't wager. Told her as how you wouldn't like it above
half."

Gregory rolled his eyes. "Then I can deduce
that my wife wished to wager?"

"She ain't been out much. She doesn't know
it ain't the thing."

"Then I must rely on your good character to
steer her away from any such behavior." Gregory leaned forward.
"And to keep her away from William Jefferson."

Appleton's eyes narrowed. "Depend upon it.
The three of us have already warned her about the bloke."

"And her reaction?"

"She heartily agreed with us about his low
character."

"That is reassuring news, to be sure."

"Speaking of news, I wanted to let you know
me brother's in town. He signed the book at the Pump Room this
morning. And the demmedest thing. . .I saw Miss Aggremont glance
over the book, then she comes up to me like we were the oldest and
best of friends.
You must make me known to your brother
she
purred. All because he's Lord Appleton, if you ask me."

"I don't doubt it at all. She's rather a
schemer." Gregory was perversely pleased at Glee's perception of
Miss Aggremont's unflattering character. A pity her perception did
not extend to Jefferson.

"A pity our joke on Miss Aggremont last
night was not successful," Appleton said as he got to his feet. "I
really must go visit with me brother. I wanted to assure myself you
weren't still mad at me."

Gregory smiled and stood up. "Never that,
old fellow."

After Appleton left, Gregory sat at his
desk, staring out the window and wondering how long it would be
before he could expect the runner.

Chapter 22

"Hello, Timothy," Glee said as she brushed
past him in the hallway, neither meeting his gaze nor slowing
down.

He turned around to look after her. "Good
afternoon, P--Mrs. Blankenship."

Glee had been too upset to wait for a groom
to bring around her phaeton. Running along to the livery stable
would save time.

Her phaeton was hitched and ready when she
arrived at the livery stable a block away, and the groom assisted
her onto the box. Trotting off, she had no idea where she was
going. She wanted only to be by herself, to think on the baffling
occurrences of the past day.

She crossed the River Avon at the Pulteney
Bridge, cantered down Great Pulteney Street and found herself once
more at Sydney Gardens. Unlike the day before, the sun now
brightened the sky, and many people took the air in the park. A
complete contrast to the previous day's dreariness. A pity her
spirits were so low now, for she would have excessively enjoyed a
drive on a day like this.

She turned into the gardens and, with
flushed cheeks, thought about the intimacy that had occurred
between her husband and her the night before. Why, he had actually
put his mouth to her breast! And, with a liquid surge low in her
belly, she remembered feeling
that
part of him pressing
against her. She had been so close to truly belonging to him.

It couldn't have just been the liquor he'd
consumed that made Blanks desire her. Was it not said that liquor
brought out the truth? On the other hand, liquor released
inhibitions. That much she knew from her own experience drinking
wine. Or arrack tea. And she knew for a certainty that, when in
their cups, gentlemen went to molly houses. As a girl she had
secretly read a letter Timothy Appleton wrote her brother when he
was up at Oxford which referred to the night they were in their
cups and visited a molly house.

Blanks's behavior today gave her no
indication if he remembered last night or not. She had thought she
would be able to tell by his words or mood what his reaction to
last night was. Did he—or did he not—remember? If only she could
have been able to tell. Were she to guess, she would say he did
remember and was angry with her because of her seductive ways. He
certainly had not been angry last night! It had been the first time
she had truly felt as if she were his wife.

Then again, if he was so foxed he had passed
out, he could have been too bosky to remember anything.

A pity it would be inappropriate to quiz
him. Or would it? she thought boldly, turning her phaeton around to
leave the park. Perhaps it was something she ought to discuss with
him.

Not now, of course. She had set fire to his
fury one too many times in the last day.

She re-crossed the River Avon and directed
her phaeton along Upper Borough Walls and past Queen Square,
unclear what her destination was. She grew repentive every time she
thought of Blanks's raging anger. If only she had never kissed the
disreputable Mr. Jefferson. And why had she been so dim witted as
to write him a letter this morning?

She had been so focused on her hungered-for
union with Blanks she had given no thought to him discovering that
she had written to William Jefferson. And the letter was so
pitifully harmless! She merely demanded the return of her earrings.
She yearned to wear them for Blanks, to show him how much they
meant to her.

Now her temper seared. Why had the wretched
William Jefferson not returned her earrings? She had kept her part
of the bargain. She had kissed him. A terribly dull kiss, to be
sure. Not like with Blanks. She thought of the potency of Blanks's
heated kisses. Why had William Jefferson been so eager to claim so
innocuous a kiss? He knew she loathed him, yet he still demanded
the kiss. It was as if he took perverse satisfaction in
embarrassing and angering Blanks. The odious man!

She turned onto Royal Avenue, then trotted
along the Royal Crescent, then through Crescent Fields. The sight
of an unaccompanied woman driving a bright red phaeton garnered a
great deal of attention. Everywhere Glee turned, curious stares
followed her. She could not be faulted for not trying to impress
Blanks with her forwardness. Today, of course, she looked quite
simpering in this virginal dress. Why had she not worn something
more flamboyant? A pity Carlotta had already claimed purple as her
own.

Glee's temper scorched at the thought of
Carlotta. She would wager Blanks had never gone to sleep waiting
for Carlotta to change clothes! Then a wicked thought struck her.
Perhaps Carlotta wore nothing at all when she became intimate with
Blanks. Fury pounding in her breast, Glee felt certain she loathed
Carlotta as much as she loathed William Jefferson.

Glee had so very much to learn about
pleasing Blanks and no idea of where to start.

Another matter causing her consternation was
Blanks's complete reversal since they married. To please him, she
had tried to be fast, then he acted as if he did not like fast
women. When she knew better. The unwavering Blanks persisted in
acting as if he were her brother. He grew angry when she addressed
his friends by their Christian names. He would not allow her to
wager. He forbid even the mildest flirtation with William
Jefferson. And he abhorred her seductive red dress at the same time
he delighted in removing it!

The offending red dress, though she had
never told him, she had copied exactly from one of Carlotta's
purple creations. And he most assuredly had liked it on Carlotta
Ennis. Try as she might, Glee could not please the man she had
married.

All of her battle strategies had failed. It
was time to bring out a new arsenal. But what?

She drove on mindlessly until she found
herself on Broad Quay, the street where Blanks's solicitor's office
was located. She came to a stop in front of Mr. Willowby's office
and saw Archie sitting on the steps to the building. He looked up
and recognized her, a smile covering his thin face as he leaped to
his feet. "Can I be of assistance to ye today, madam?"

"You certainly can. Oblige me by taking
these reins, first." She handed him the reins as she climbed down
from the phaeton, then she turned to him. "Mind my rig and there'll
be a crown in it for you."

He smiled cockily at her as she swept toward
the building. She had to climb to the third floor before she
located her quarry. There, she found the young woman who had to be
Archie's mother.

The woman looked up at Glee with inscrutable
hazel eyes, then went back to mopping the wooden hallway.

"I wondered if I could have a word with
you," Glee began, walking up to the woman. From three feet away,
Glee could smell the gin.

The woman stopped mopping and propped her
thin frame on the mop handle, hitching a brow in Glee's direction.
Blanks had been right. She was not much larger than her son. And
she did so look like little more than a child herself.

"I'm Mrs. Blankenship," Glee said. "My
husband is a client of Mr. Willowby's and has done business with
your son on, I believe, several occasions."

"The bloke what gives me boy all them
crowns?"

Glee nodded. "In fact, my husband offered
your son a job as a groom, where his room and board would be
furnished, in addition to making a decent salary.

"And what did Archie say to that fine
offer?"

"He said he couldn't leave his mother."

A slow smile crossed the woman's dirty face.
"More likely, the lad wonders why 'e should work six days a week
for a small salary when 'e earns such grand fees from yer 'usband
already."

"But my husband has other residences. He's
not always going to be in Bath."

"A pity," the woman said, picking up her mop
again.

"What's your name?" Glee asked softly.

"Me name's Mildred Agnostinio. Mrs. A. they
calls me."

"Agnostinio's Italian, is it not?"

Mildred nodded.

"But certainly your lad's not Italian. He's
as fair as you."

"Mr. Agnostinio was me second 'usband."

"But. . .you could hardly be more than
twenty, and you've already been married twice?"

"I'm three and twenty," she said
proudly.

"You had Archie when you were but
fourteen?"

The woman's eyes went cold.

Glee decided to press on. "Where do you and
Archie live?"

She shrugged. "What's it to you?"

"My husband and I would like to offer you a
position in our household. You would have a fine roof over your
head, all your meals and a . . ."

"A decent compensation," Mildred snapped.
"It so 'appens I make a decent salary right where I am."

"And you live in a fine dwelling?"

"Where we live suits us just fine. We can go
and come as we please and don't 'ave to answer to no one."

"If you won't care for yourself, can't you
at least care about Archie?"

Mildred lifted her chin. "Archie's free to
go live with yer 'orses, if that's what 'e wants."

"But all he has is you," Glee whispered
somberly. "You can't wish for him to be lonely. He's only a
child."

"Me Archie's older than 'is years."

"Because he's had to take care of you all
these years. How long have you had your drinking problem?"

The woman whirled at Glee. "Leave me alone.
Yer just like all them other do-gooders. I'm 'appy the way I am.
Archie's 'appy." Then she picked up her pail and thundered down the
stairs.

Glee followed. "Mrs. Agnostinio? Would you
mind if I ask Archie once more if he would like to come into
service with us?"

"For all I care, ye can take him," she
snapped.

Oh dear, this interview had not at all gone
as Glee had planned. She silently followed Mildred down the stairs
but made no more attempts to engage her in conversation.

Glee left the building, reaching into her
reticule for coins for the lad. "Here, Archie," she said, placing
five shillings in his grimy palm. "You've done another fine job.
You know, my husband still would like you in service to us. Have
you given it any more thought?"

He studied his shoetops. "Me mum needs
me."

Glee ran a steady hand over his head.
"You're a good lad, Archie."

All the way back to Queen Square, Glee
thought of Mildred Agnostinio. The woman obviously was letting her
obsession for liquor rule her life. And ruin her life. That was the
only explanation for why she would turn down the security of a
position in their household, where she would be expected to keep
regular hours, to be clean--and not to smell of gin.

If only she could be persuaded to give up
her gin. But Blanks was probably right. Some people could never
give up their drink.

She must talk it over with Blanks. He was
older and had seen more of life than she had. He would know what to
do.

* * *

Blanks looked up from his correspondence as
Glee sailed into the library.

"Oh, Blanks, I'm so happy you're here, for I
most particularly wanted to talk to you." She slid into a chair
across the desk from him.