Much Ado about the Shrew (12 page)

           
"Ben?
Ben are you here?" a soft voice called from the doorway.

           
Ben
looked up quickly, almost guilty at being found at his father's desk without
permission. Poppycock! he told himself, and finished sanding his notes to
Milford and Welles. "In here," he called out.

           
"Oh,
Ben! I was afraid you'd gone!" Bee smiled from the doorway.

           
"Miss
me already, pet?" Ben chided, gathering up the notes.

           
Bee
raised her eyebrows at the nickname, but did not comment otherwise. "I
need to get back home," she told him, "if I'm to prepare a costume
for tonight."

           
Ben
smiled and gave her his arm as they walked to the front door.
"Simmons," he said, and immediately his mother's aging butler
appeared, as if by magic. "Simmons, can you please have these delivered
and have the carriage brought around?"

           
"Of
course,
m'lord
," Simmons said in his gravelly
voice, and the letters disappeared from Ben's hands without him even realizing
that the man had taken them. Within moments, he and Bee were settled safely in
the carriage with her maid.

           
"I
forgot how efficient Simmons is," Bee smiled. "Bertram is wonderful,
of course, but... Simmons!"

           
"When
I was younger I always thought he could read minds," Ben told her.
"Now I know that he is just an old busybody."

           
Bee's
maid giggled and Ben gave her a conspiratorial wink.

           
"Is
Winston still with you?" Ben referred to Bee's family's long-time butler.
"He was ancient when I was still in leading strings."

           
Bee
smiled sadly. "When Papa died, he wanted to stay on, but I... well, I
strongly
encouraged
him to retire. My
uncle, as you know, is not so kind to the staff, and I didn't want poor Winston
subjected to him."

           
Ben
frowned and picked up Bee's gloved hand, caressing it slightly. "I know
I've said it so many times before," he said, "but I'm so sorry for
all that you've gone through for the past few years."

           
Bee
gave a sad smile. "Thank you," she murmured, and Ben felt a warmth
spread through his heart. Must be something off with the cakes, he told
himself.
 

           
The
carriage slowed and stopped, and Ben quickly dropped Bee's hand. "Are we
here already?" he muttered.

           
"There
was no rain to slow us down," Bee reminded him.

           
Ben
grunted and stepped out of the carriage, then turned to help Bee and her maid
out. "Let me see you inside," he told her, "and hopefully I can
speak with Lennox about dinner if he's returned."

           
Bee
tilted her head to show her acceptance, and she and her maid hurried in.

           
Bee's
aunt and Lennox were standing in the foyer as they stepped inside. Bee's aunt
was surrounded by a group of five other women who were obviously on their way
out. At once they all began talking, and fawning over Bee, while Bee and her
maid began answering her questions.
 
Ben
sidled around the women until he was standing next to Lennox.
 
They both stood against the wall, staring at
the chattering women for a few moments until Ben glanced over, realizing just
how large Lennox was. He never considered himself to be a small man topping
around 6 feet, but Lennox had him beat by several inches. Welles was right; the
man was a tree.

           
"How
do you do it, man?" Ben mumbled, referring to the women.

           
"I
stay in my study for several hours at a time," Lennox admitted.

           
"My
mother wants to invite your family for dinner," Ben said, flat against the
wall, almost afraid to move lest he be drawn into the female circle. An oak
tree, thick and hard, he thought.

           
Lennox
nodded. "When? Certainly not tonight?"

           
"No.
Tonight I am supposed to escort your family to the Beaufort's ball."

           
Lennox
groaned. "Isn't that a masquerade?"

           
"Yes."
Yes, definitely an oak tree. Lord Oak. Ben suppressed a smile.

           
"I
hate those."

           
"Who
doesn't?"

           
"We
have a dinner tonight, so we will have to meet you there. I think I have an
invitation."

           
"Good.
If not, send a note around to my mother and she will notify Her Grace."

           
"Tomorrow
for dinner, then?"

           
"That
sounds acceptable; I don't believe I have anything planned.
 
I will check with my mother and have her send
yours a note."

           
"Fine."

           
"I'll
be off, then," Ben started, and began edging his way around the side of
the foyer. Goodbye, Lord Oak, he said in his head.

           
"Wait,"
Lennox said, grabbing Ben's coat sleeve. Ben stopped. "Bee's uncle came
over today while we were out. He apparently told Bertram that he wished to
speak with you."

           
"Me?"

           
"You,"
Lennox said, and when Ben looked over at him, Lennox merely shrugged.

           
"I
suppose I should see what he wants," Ben said, looking back at the gaggle
of women. "See you this evening."

           
Lennox
groaned. "I should never have offered to take them to London," he
admitted.

           
"Take
it from me," Ben said, "never let a woman believe she can take the
reins."

           
Lennox
raised his eyebrows, looking over at Bee, then back at Ben. "Until this
evening," was all he said.

           
Ben
laughed silently to himself as he escaped the household and, after giving his
driver the change in directions, stepped into his carriage. His rather nice
carriage, he reminded himself.

           
Bee's
uncle had moved into the family's London home shortly after Bee's father had
passed. It was no coincidence that Bee moved in with her aunt almost
immediately thereafter.
 
As Ben walked up
the short drive, he noticed that there were aspects of the house that were
already showing signs of neglect.

           
A
footman greeted him at the door, leaving Ben standing in the foyer while he
left to give it to Bee's uncle. He wondered if Bee's uncle had bothered to
replace Winston, or was managing on a skeleton staff.
 
The mirror on the wall had not seen a
cleaning in some time, and the entire house smelled musty. Not my problem, Ben
reminded himself, but was thankful when the footman returned to take him to
Bee's uncle.

           
Lord
Dorset was a short, red, rotund man. He was balding, with only a sparse bit of
grey hair hanging onto his head around his ears, although he allowed that to
grow so it was quite shaggy and
coarsed
about his
head wildly.
 
His appetite for gambling
was well-known throughout the
ton
,
which never impressed Ben at all; he was all for a good-natured wager now and
again, but he had no respect for men who gambled their futures away over a deck
of cards or the roll of the dice.

           
"Lord
Kendal! Come in, come in!" he heard Dorset say from across the room. As
Ben entered, he noticed the chill in the room, but figuring he was not staying
long, plus the fact that the footman never did take his coat, he pushed it out
of his mind.

           
"I
understand you were asking for me?" Ben said, getting straight to the
point.

           
"Yes,
yes
m'boy
," Dorset said, pouring himself a
brandy. He looked at Ben pointedly, who shook his head slightly at the
invitation. Shrugging, Dorset finished pouring himself a generous glass before
sitting down at his desk.
 
He took a
large gulp and sighed loudly.

           
"Sit,
sit!" he gestured to one of the chairs in front of the desk at the far end
of the room. Sighing, Ben crossed the long room before taking a chair.
 
He sat for several minutes while Dorset
leaned back in his chair and began steadily draining his glass.

           
"May
I ask the purpose of your invitation?" Ben finally asked.

           
Dorset
looked up and blinked, as if he had forgotten Ben was sitting there.
 
He sat up abruptly, sloshing some of the
brandy on his arm before setting the glass down on the edge of the desk.
"Yes, yes, I asked for you. That's right." He burped loudly.
"Now,
m'boy
, I understand until last night
you've been a good influence on my niece."

           
Ben
tried not to show revulsion at either Dorset or the direction of the
conversation. "What is it you are implying?" he asked with narrowed
eyes.

           
Dorset
stared at him for a few moments longer before giving a brief nod of his head.
"
M'boy
, I need your help."

           
Ben
decided that the next time Dorset called him "
m'boy
"
he was leaving.

           
"What
for?" he asked instead.

           
"Why
to find a husband for that niece of mine, of course!" Dorset said.

           
Ben
felt his chest constrict, and he stood quickly, pushing the chair back behind
him. "You don't certainly mean..." he growled.

           
"What?
Oh, no," Dorset said, waving his hand and taking another sloppy drink.
"Wouldn't pan that chit off on you. I like you, you know."

           
Ben
wasn't sure if that was a compliment.

           
"Perhaps
you can tell me why I'm here, then," Ben said, slowly sitting back down.

           
"Mm,
yes," Dorset said, finishing off the last of the brandy. He stared sadly
at the empty glass. "I need to get her married off, the sooner the better.
Draining the family coffers, you know, this Season business."
        

           
Ben
frowned. Bee had her own money to spend, and Lennox was flush, also. Why would
Dorset be sponsoring her this Season?

           
"What
is it you are asking me to do?" Ben said.

           
"Find
her a husband!" Dorset said loudly, slamming his fist onto the table.
"And soon. If the chit is engaged by the end of the month, I'll deed you
the area by the lake."

           
Ben
felt his breath catch. The lake separated his and Bee's estates- well, now, her
uncle's estate, but there was one section of prime farmland on Bee's estate
that Ben's father had always coveted.
 
It
was surrounded by both estates, however, and therefore not worth much to anyone
else besides Ben or Dorset. "The area by the groves?" he asked.

           
"Yes,
yes, that's the one," Dorset said. "I actually had it all set to sell
to your father before, well, you know. And I was going to sell it to you,
but... well, I would rather see my niece settled, you know?"

           
Ben
frowned. Dorset was anything but kind, and there was some ulterior motive here,
although for the life of him, he could not think of what it might be. Besides,
he had promised Bee's brother to take care of her, which obviously meant
finding her a husband, right? Why not get a prime piece of real estate in the
bargain?

           
"You
have yourself a deal," Ben said, standing. Dorset stood awkwardly as well,
and stuck out his bulgy hand. Ben noticed as he shook it that it was still
covered with brandy. As he covertly wiped away the sweet-smelling liquid as he
walked out of the house, he was not sure if that was the only reason he was
wiping his hand so vigorously. Somehow, he felt in his heart that aligning
himself with Dorset was a huge mistake.