The Earl's Bargain (Historical Regency Romance) (8 page)

For reasons she would never understand, she
obeyed the arrogant man and sat on the settee next to him. "I am
here, my lord. Are you happy?"

His eyes looked black today. And they
sparkled with mirth. "My, but you are a saucy vixen."

"Do I take that for a compliment?"

He could not seem to repress his smile. He
settled back and pinned her with a knowing stare. "How much did the
late Mr. Phillips' things fetch?"

A flash of anger swept over her face, and
she stiffened. "How do you know so much about my affairs?"

"Because I need all the leverage I can
get."

"And your vast amounts of money cannot buy
that?"

"I don't know. I'm prepared to settle a
handsome sum on you for the information I failed to obtain from Mr.
Twining."

"The identity of my
husband's
benefactor
?"

He nodded, a morose expression on his
handsome face.

"That I cannot give you. I honestly do not
know the man's identity."

* * *

He gave her a long look. Gone was her
flippancy. And her anger. She was telling the truth.

His face was grim, his voice low when he
spoke. "You really don't know, do you?"

She shook her head.

"Did your husband never discuss the man?"
God but he hated to call the despicable man her husband.

"Only to tell me to stay abovestairs when a
lone man came two or three times a year. A man -- I think he's a
lord -- who my husband addressed with great reverence -- and great
secrecy."

That would fit, Harry thought. "Did you ever
get a glimpse of the man?"

"Actually I did, once, from a very great
distance."

Before she could say more, Ellie and Mr.
Coke burst into the room. "You will never believe it!" Ellie
squealed. "Even though the sun is shining, it has begun to
rain!"

Ellie and Edward were not so wet that they
could not sit down and join in the conversation, which soon turned
to Jeremy Bentham's impending visit for a speaking engagement in
London.

"I cannot believe that I will actually get
to hear the great man in the flesh," Ellie exclaimed.

Edward cast a bemused glance at his cousin
while Harry made every effort to show the proper respect toward the
ladies' pontificating idol. That deuced Edward had better not
betray him. It was imperative that the widow believe he
enthusiastically shared her political views.

"When will we have the pleasure to hear Mr.
Bentham's address?" Harry asked.

"He comes next week."

Hopefully he would be spared the boredom of
hearing Bentham. Hopefully, by next week he would have the
information he sought.

Louisa was grateful for the opportunity to
stay home this evening. She really must put pen to paper to turn
out another essay. In the past her essays were the result of strong
feelings she wanted to express about the rights of man -- and of
women. Now, though, she sought to write merely for the money. She
felt guilty writing for the wrong reasons, writing solely for the
money.

She had been sitting here for the past hour
trying to decide upon a topic. With no vituperative feelings
begging to come forward, her pen was stilled. She could write about
the franchise, but she had already done that. Child labor, prison
reform, and birth control were subjects that also had been
addressed by her.

She looked up at her sister, who sat across
from her sewing on her new dress. Ellie's face lifted, and she
caught Louisa's stare, taking it as permission to speak. "Are your
writing one of your famous essays, Mr. Lewis?" A cocky expression
lighted her youthful face, and she giggled.

Louisa sighed. "If only my muse would
return." She put down her pen. "What are you sewing?"

Ellie's voice became animated. "A promenade
dress for one of my wonderful walks with Mr. Coke."

"Whatever do the two of you find to talk
about during these walks?"

A far-away look in her eyes, a satisfied
countenance on her face, Ellie answered. "Mr. Coke and I have a
great deal in common. First of all, he is as enamored of his cousin
as I am of my elder sister. Then there is the fact that we were
both tutored at home. We are both country bred. And he is just so
very amusing.

"There is more to him than that," Ellie went
on. "He allows me to expound endlessly on the merits of Mr. Bentham
and on the wisdom imparted in Mr. Lewis's essays, and I believe I'm
converting him to our way of thinking -- which is rather a coup,
given that he hails from a noble family."

"You must not be impressed by the
circumstances of his birth. Remember that his class has done
nothing to earn respect."

"He tells me Lord Wycliff built his fortune
by his own cunning after his father squandered away their lands and
possessions. Do you not find that commendable?"

"I would find it far more commendable were
Lord Wycliff to give his fortune to the poor," Louisa said.

"As much as I want to agree with you, I find
that notion most unrealistic."

Louisa sighed. "You are, of course, right. I
suppose the most I can hope for is that Lord Wycliff and others
like him use their influence in Parliament to enact laws beneficial
to the less fortunate."

Ellie's gaze flitted to the pen and paper
before her sister. "You cannot believe how difficult it is for me
to withhold your authorship from Mr. Coke. I am so very proud of
you, and so close to him that it is quite an accomplishment for me
not to confide in him."

Louisa's face clouded. "I beg that you never
even consider revealing my identity to the gentleman – or to
anyone. It's imperative that no one ever suspect I am a female – I
mean, that Mr. Lewis is a female. If his gender were to become
known, my work would never again have the opportunity to be widely
distributed."

"Don't fear, Louisa. I shall never reveal
that you are Philip Lewis."

"Labor unification!" Louisa shrieked,
picking up her pen and beginning to write furiously.

* * *

Edward looked at the dog-eared volume
reposing in his cousin's lap across the carriage from him. The
sunlight reflected off the worn gilt on the edge of the pages.
"Surely you're not going to tell Mrs. Phillips you read the book
last night when you spent the whole of the evening at your club and
didn't make it home until daylight!"

A sly smile slid across Harry's tanned face.
"I thumbed through it enough to expound to her on its merits."

"You can't believe that ridiculous poppycock
in those foolish treatises."

"Oh course not, my good man, but if I hope
to accomplish my goals, I must have the widow on my side, and the
best way to gain her trust is to feign appreciation for her bloody
do-gooding reforms."

"But you even indicated to Lord Seymour that
you sympathized with the reformers."

"I did no such thing," Harry protested. "I
merely introduced him to a beautiful young woman, who then
expounded on her beliefs as I stood silently beside her." The
thought of how lovely Mrs. Phillips had been the night of Lord
Seymour's ball left Harry weak inside and anxious to see her today.
The woman was indeed a feast for the eyes. For the remainder of the
carriage ride to his former home he reflected pleasurably on her
silky skin and golden hair and the perfect oval of her incredible
face.

And he grew impatient to see her.

* * *

The foursome seemed to have fallen into a
pattern. Mr. Coke and Ellie would walk in the park that centered
Grosvenor Square while Louisa and Lord Wycliff discussed the latest
reading she had given him. As they had done on the previous day,
Harry and Louisa sat next to each other on a settee in the
library.

Despite her distrust of peers, Louisa had
bestowed her favor on Lord Wycliff, whose earnestness impressed
her. He had even told her he would take his seat in Parliament.
This was obviously her most important conquest to date, and she
owed it to him to help him regain his property so that he could
fulfill his duties.

"When we were interrupted yesterday," he
said, "you were saying that you once saw the man you believe was
your husband's benefactor."

She settled back on the settee, crossing her
legs at the ankles. "Yes, I thought about it a great deal last
night, and I've decided the mysterious man must be Godwin's
benefactor, though the Lord only knows why a man like Godwin would
merit a benefactor."

"I have some idea," he said bitterly.

She gave him a probing look, then continued.
"I only caught a glimpse of him once, and Godwin would have. . ."
she hesitated a moment. "He would have been extremely angry with me
had he known I peeked from over the upstairs balustrade to see the
man."

Harry's eyes flashed. "What did the
benefactor look like?"

"He was quite old. Older even than Godwin.
And he had silver hair. He was tall, yet stooped, and I think he
must have been handsome as a younger man."

"Could you identify him if you saw him
again?" Lord Wycliff asked.

She thought for a moment. "I believe I
could."

"Tell me," he said, "how long had your
husband's valet been with him?"

"I don't really know. For many years. He was
here when I came."

"Where is he now?"

"He's here. He's training to be my butler,
but I don't know how long I'll be able to afford to keep him."

From nowhere Lord Wycliff's large hand
curled around her forearm. "That husband of yours left you
nothing?" Lord Wycliff asked, his voice tender and concerned.

She gave a bitter laugh. "Nothing."

"Death was too good for him."

She agreed, but would not admit it
aloud.

He removed his hand. "Do you suppose his
valet would know the identity of the benefactor?"

"I can ask."

His voice softened again. "I appreciate all
you've done for me, especially since trusting a peer was repugnant
to you but a few weeks ago."

She tossed back her head and laughed. "Oh,
it's still repugnant, but in your case, I am learning to trust you.
You've made an impressive effort to amend your ways." She got to
her feet. "I'll go talk to Williams now."

* * *

He watched as she walked from the room, her
back straight and her step light. She was a joy to watch.

While he waited for her to return, Harry
cursed his own deceit. He had done many things that made him
ashamed, but this deception stung deeper and with more regret.

She was such a passionate
little thing, bursting with ideas and schemes to aid the masses.
She had enough on her plate without having to worry about surviving
with no money.
Damn Godwin
Phillips
. Harry did not know if he hated
the man more for treating his lovely wife so shabbily or for
yanking her from the schoolroom and veritably purchasing her. His
hand fisted, and he shocked himself by uttering a curse.

He got up and walked to the window and
watched Ellie Sinclair and Edward walk about the small park. Edward
seemed genuinely fond of the girl. God knows, she was pretty
enough. She was a more youthful version of her sister. But she
seemed so much younger and, frankly, stupid. He could not imagine
Louisa Phillips ever having been so silly and carefree.

Then, with a thud in the vicinity of his
heart, he realized Louisa Phillips had long been a married woman by
the time she was Ellie's age. And he once again cursed Godwin
Phillips.

He turned from the window, deliberately
kicking his boot against the patterned carpet as he did so. The
least Harry could do for the poor widow was to see her settled in a
little home. Perhaps that would assuage his conscience.

Damn, she trusts
me
, he thought with shame.

When she returned to the room, he read
disappointment on her face. "Any luck?"

She shook her head, then returned to the
settee. "Like me, he knew of the man's importance to Godwin, but
Godwin was careful to shield the man's identity. Williams does know
where the man came from, though."

A smile on his face, Harry sat down. "And,
pray, where might that be?" He was getting close.

"Somewhere in Cornwall. And I was right
about him being a lord. Williams confirmed it. Apparently the man
was somewhat of a recluse."

Harry's mind spun. He tried to remember a
lord from Cornwall, but the only one he knew -- Lord Robartes --
was an honorable man who took his seat in the House of Lords and
was far from being a recluse. There must be any number of lords
residing in Cornwall. The problem was to find one. The right
one.

Say!" Harry said. "Have you
a
Debrett's
?"

She got up and went straight to the book.
"How clever of you!" She began to thumb through its pages. "Though
I daresay it will take hours to go through all these names and
titles and determine which of them live in Cornwall."

He took the tome from her. "We'll need paper
and pen."

"Of course. We shall have to draw up a
list." She went to the desk drawer and removed several sheets of
velum and set them on top the desk. Then she pushed a second
armchair up to the desk. "Come to the desk, Lord Wycliff. We can
both sit here."

"Shall you record the names?" he asked. "I
daresay no one, not even me, can read my handwriting.

She nodded.

He sat beside her and placed the opened book
on the desk. "You're right. This will take a great deal of
time."

She sat and watched as he silently scanned
page after page.

"Is Tyndrum in Cornwall?" he asked.

"No. It's in Scotland. Cornwall and Scotland
retain many Celtic names." She moved to get up. "What's needed is a
map. I'll make a list of the towns and villages of Cornwall. Will
that be helpful?"