The Bellerose Bargain (7 page)

"It’s not an easy task to keep you in food and drink," he sneered.

Though her mouth was full and a bit of wine dribbled to her chin, she did not wait to answer him. "You don’t keep me all that well, milord. Hold your complaints or I won’t hold my tongue."

"You know what to say to silence me, Charlotte. I wouldn’t have guessed you knew such designs."

She laughed and her dark curls bounced with the action. "I’m intent on doing as well as I can for myself. That’s all. Lord above, no one else is going to give me anything."

"You stand to gain a great deal this way. Considerably more than you would have in marrying Seavers. It’s plain truth to everyone in London that he wants to get his hand into your pot for his ships. You’d be a pauper with a title in six months."

She swallowed more food than would be allowed a normal throat, and a look of disgust came over her face. She did not pause in her feast to answer him, but her expression clearly showed that she would not have been content with such an arrangement.

"I think with a little time on our side we can find a way to reject the king’s proposal of marriage for you without offending him badly. For the moment, I fear, he won’t be too happy with you. When Seavers’s man can’t find you, they’ll all assume you’ve fled the betrothal. We’ll come up with a better story, and you can escape his wrath and perhaps turn his mind toward another suitor." He paused in his oratory and looked at her. He smirked and shook his head. "Madam? Did you hear me?"

"I hear, Culver. Haven’t I already told you that I’d marry you if the king allows?"

"Yes, madam, you did indeed. And I’m counting on you to keep yourself from being swayed by the courtiers. They play a lot of pretty words on attractive young virgins such as you are."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him. "And you play a pretty word or two, Lord Perry. When you’re sure of me I have no doubt your love may suffer just a mite. Just a mite. So I’ll take my chance on you till you show me I’m foolish." She smiled, and in her teeth there happened to be slivers of meat that detracted from the smile. "I think it may work out, Lord Perry. Unless you’ve lied to me."

"Why would I lie? By the time you’re at court a day you’ll hear from every wagging tongue that Seavers has been hard at work to finance ships. And I? I told you honestly that I need money to back my influence at court, but I’ve no intention of spending it all—only holding it for the influence it gets. And remember, Charlotte, you can cause me a great deal of trouble by spilling the truth about our alliance, but no less than you’d cause yourself. Charles doesn’t have to give you your estate."

"I’m not going to spoil the lot, love," she said, her smile quick and still speckled.

"Good. We’re of like mind."

"Are you staying here the night?" she asked.

"Much as I’d like to, love, I still have a great deal of business before I rest. And I wouldn’t want anyone seeing me with you until you’ve been able to reject Seavers successfully."

"What business? Another woman?"

He smiled devilishly. "I’m counting on your fortune to help, Charlotte, but there’s still quite a lot I can do to improve my lot before we exchange vows." He paused and looked her over, forcing himself to smile. He was not attracted to her, but lying beside her for a brace of years in exchange for a decent amount of money would not pain him much. "I’ll either be here once you’re asleep or in the morning to bring you something to eat. Remember, don’t go out."

"Like yourself, milord, I’ll go where I please. I hadn’t thought you desperate enough to sell favors. Who’re you sleeping with and what’s her title?"

Lord Perry frowned. "I didn’t say I was sleeping with anyone, Lady Charlotte."

"No, you didn’t. And I don’t care who you’re with, but don’t expect to hold me to a different plan. I’ll have your promise in writing that my money is my own, and once we’re wed and I have the Perry name, we’ll each do as we please. And I’ll be careful enough to see that my inheritance doesn’t disappear into the ocean, but should it please me to go out and stroll about a bit, I’ll do so." She bit off another large piece of meat and chewed it greedily. "You don’t own me, Culver, nor will you ever. And when you start to act as though you do, I’ll tell His Majesty that you’ve kidnapped and beaten me, and in fear of my life I’ve followed your orders."

Culver Perry watched her as she settled herself on the only chair in the room to finish her feast. She did not trouble over his comings and goings so long as he kept her in food and visited her bed regularly. His plan for hustling Seavers out of the Bellamy inheritance had been much more appetizing before he had realized that Charlotte was as devious as he.

But there was a bright light in any storm. "At least we understand each other, madam. Let’s just be cautious that no other understands us as well."

"Fair enough, milord," she said with a mouthful of food. He smiled at her, turned, and gratefully took his leave of the room.

Alicia came awake at the sound of a moan. She sat up on the bed and took notice of Geoffrey stirring from his sleeping place on the floor. He shook off the cover that had been thrown over him and sat up, rubbing his head. Taking a cautious look around the room, he spied Alicia, still in her clothes, sitting up on the small bed. Rodney had also taken possession of the floor for his sleeping. Seavers had no way of knowing that Alicia would not allow the servant to leave her alone with him. All were clothed and apparently passing Geoffrey’s unconscious state as best as could be allowed.

With a pathetic-sounding grunt that spoke loudly of stiffness and ill health, Seavers rose to stand on shaky legs. Gathering strength, with a hand on his belly he headed for the door without looking back. His pace quickened, judging by the sound of his footfalls, as he rushed down the hall and stairs.

"You see," Alicia said, "he’s not dead. But I wager he regrets last night."

Rodney struggled to his feet, his problem being age and the hardness of the floor. "I for one am grateful for his malady. He’ll blame the drink and not you for the condition of his head."

Rodney walked to the door and on the way dropped the key on the table. "Lock yourself in and I will see to his lordship. I’ll see that you’re delivered some meager comforts before you have to deal with my young friend another time."

The meal was the first such comfort to arrive at her door. The tired-looking and unkempt maid who served it further depressed Alicia’s spirit. She wondered if she could ever endure that way of life again. It was the first time since she was a child that she had been served, rather than having to work from early morning until late at night.

When her meal was finished, she paced the room and expected to be seeing Rodney again, but instead the next knock at the door brought a heavy brass tub and buckets full of hot water. A package arrived soon after: scented soap, large linen towels, a generous sponge, and a brush.

A bath of clean hot water, one of the first she had enjoyed since leaving Osmond’s home, eased her mind and body, and later, wrapped in towel, she sat on her stool and brushed her wet hair.

Another knock interrupted her grooming, and she went over to the door. "Who’s there?"

"Geoffrey Seavers, madam. May I come in?"

"You’ll have to wait, milord. I’ve only just come out of the bath."

"Stand behind the door then and let me come in. I’ve brought you a dress and shoes." He paused and cleared his throat. "I won’t look."

Alicia thought for a moment and then put the brush on the table and took up the key. She struggled with the difficult lock, and as the door creaked open, she very quietly asked him to honor his word. "If you’ll put the dress on the bed and leave, I’ll be most grateful."

She held her linen towel around herself and watched his back as he moved to the bed. His hair was pulled back and tied with a ribbon and he had changed to a fresh coat. His steps were slow and cautious ones and he seemed to hesitate. He finally rested a bundle on the bed and painstakingly undid the large package, withdrawing a rich-looking gown. He draped this on the bed and withdrew shoes—expensive-looking ones—which he set beside the gown.

He cleared his throat but did not turn. "I’m told I made a miserable fool of myself last eventide and you were frightened." He cleared his throat again. "My apologies."

"And I am sorry that I proved such a disappointment to you," she replied in a quiet voice.

Geoffrey turned abruptly and startled a gasp out of her. The towel covered her nearly to the floor and did not leave her badly embarrassed, yet she had expected him not to turn. When he realized his error, he cast his eyes resolutely to the floor.

"Again, madam, I’m sorry. I did not think. It’s only that I couldn’t remember your face, and your voice surprises me.

"What surprise is in my voice?" she asked somewhat harshly.

"It’s gentle," he said, still looking at the floor. "And pleasant. Not what I expected."

"Well, at least I’m not totally unfit in your estimation," she countered.

Geoffrey’s hands went into his coat pockets and he raised his eyes very slowly. Alicia did not gasp and clutch at her cover this time, for his action was so deliberate. She had plenty of time to call out to him not to look at her, but she wanted to see his eyes again. Though she had not suffered ill with drink the night before, she found in the morning that she could not clearly remember his face.

Seavers’s memory was badly impaired and he could not separate in his mind one foul and ill-kept barmaid from below from the parcel that Rodney had delivered, both being women he had encountered the night before. Though he’d arranged the bath, soaps, and clothes, he couldn’t carry the idea a bit further without seeing her face. And the face he was seeing now was lovely. Her hair hung in dark, wet ringlets over her shoulders and down her back, and her face glowed with a freshly scrubbed flush. Slender fingers held the cover in place over her breasts, and drops of moisture from her hair caused the linen to fit her more as skin than cover. What he saw pleased him a great deal. "On the contrary, Alicia," he said hoarsely.

He cleared his throat and began to pace about the small room.

"What we shall do first, Alicia, is teach you all we can of the Bellamys. It shouldn’t take very long. A letter has been sent by courier to the king explaining that the delay in your arrival at court is for the purpose of burying your aunt, the old woman having just been laid to rest. Then, with a few gowns to see you through, you will be given apartments in Whitehall, and our betrothal will be announced. I think it should fall into place nicely."

She nodded at his words, only half of which she heard, and kept her eyes glued to his. The recollection was clear now that she saw him again. His green eyes glittered and danced as though within him there was joy, but the heavy brows countered the joy with a look of sternness. He was most handsome, and when sober, his voice had a pleasant and comfortable sound.

"Do you need anything more of me?" he asked.

"No, milord," she said.

"Then I’ll leave you to your grooming and take the noon meal with you, if that is satisfactory."

"Aye, milord," she responded.

He moved to the door and stepped out, closing it behind him. Alicia moved slightly and looked at the closed door, remembering the face and voice. The door suddenly popped open and he startled her again. "Lock the door, madam. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you now."

"Yes, milord," she said again. The door closed and she did as he ordered. Then she looked at the door again. A slow smile crept over her face. "Yes, milord," she repeated, her eyes beginning to glow with pleasure. "Oh, yes, milord."

The life of Charlotte Bellamy had been completely dull, from the point of view of Alicia. Geoffrey Seavers sat across the small table in her room at the inn and told her all he knew of the young woman. She had lived in the small farming village, remained mostly uneducated but for what her aunt was willing to teach her, and had few friends. She was virtually unknown until it was discovered that she was due an inheritance.

Seavers had made it his business to talk to those few men who had known Fergus Bellamy closely during his service to the crown. He asked after the knight’s reputation and had expected to learn something of this woman he was seeking to wed. But the questions gained him few answers. Fergus seldom spoke of his daughter and did not visit her or bring her to London that she might be introduced to his friends. It appeared likely that Fergus used the presence of offspring to facilitate the restoration of the lands he felt he deserved. It was poor timing on the knight’s part, in that case, to die so abruptly and never have the chance to enjoy his estate.

"Little enough for me to remember," Alicia reported with a shrug when Geoffrey had completed his story.

"Aye, there’s little, but it would do nicely if you could make attempts to remember your father regularly and with sadness."

"And the aunt?" she questioned.

"From what Rodney was able to learn, she was not fond of Charlotte and they did not share much love. Much mention of her seems unnecessary." He looked at her across the short distance and nodded once. "You shall have to accustom yourself to the name, however. And with all due respect, I shall be addressing you as Charlotte from now on. Even in our private moments."