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BOOK: Barbara Metzger
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Jeremys brunette feigned insult to her gender by pouting. She looked like a squirrel with an acorn in each cheek.

 

 

The blazes, you say. I came to London to avoid my family. A houseful of women, dont you know. Young Clarence was counting up his remaining coins, to see if he could afford the services of one of the serving girls, who, Jeremy had informed him, were cleaner than any street-corner prostitute, but less expensive than the women at the fancy houses of convenience.

 

 

Jeremy laughed. You came to Town because youve been thrown out of every school they could find for you. Theyre paying you to keep far from the neighborhood before you get another one of the dairymaids with child.

 

 

Daniel took a better look at the young man. Clarence didnt appear old enough to shave, much less litter the countryside with bastards. He did look stupid enough, though, with his neckcloth tied so high he couldnt turn his head, and wearing two rings on each hand. He was a pigeon waiting to be plucked, all right.

 

 

Lord Morgan coughed on his own cigar smoke. Thats it, then? Your ladies are here to visit? Dont worry; theyll spend all their days and half your blunt shopping. You wont have to do a thing but play least in sight.

 

 

Its worse. Theyre here to launch my sister into society.

 

 

Young Clarence murmured condolences. Gads, I suppose youll be expected to trot after her like a sheepdog.

 

 

Jeremy said a word that had even the brunette clucking her tongue. Presentations and debutante balls, hell. I wouldnt be in your shoes if they offered me a knighthood.

 

 

What, for your whoring? His uncle turned to Daniel, after another bout of coughing that turned into wheezing. Youve just the one sister, I recall, so youll be done with the nonsense soon. And theyre doing it up right, firing the gel off from Royce House and all. You shouldnt have any difficulty. Still, I dont envy you, Stamfield.

 

 

The way Daniel saw it, Susanna would be trouble enough. Its worse. They brought a neighbor to keep Susanna company. My mothers goddaughter.

 

 

Lud, playing escort to two females on the marriage mart at once. Have another drink, my boy. Youll need it.

 

 

Daniel sighed. Its worse still. My mother might be interested in remarrying.

 

 

They all lifted their glasses to Daniel, that he survive the Season.

 

 

My sympathies, Stamfield. Lord Morgan wheezed again, then had another drink to clear his throat. He spilled some of it down his shirtfront without noticing. Poor lad. Living with my late wife was bad enough, but three women?

 

 

Young Clarence had five sisters at home, along with his mother, grandmother, and two maiden great-aunts. None of the sisters was old enough to be presented anytime soon. The youngest was still in leading strings.

 

 

No wonder the lad kicked over the traces, Daniel thought. What he said was, You are lucky to be away from there. He had another glass of wine. I wish Id thought to leave Town before they arrived. The colonies, maybe. Or India. Somewhere too far for them to call me home.

 

 

Jeremy Babcock now had two females on his lap. The way youre actingno women, no cardsthey must be antidotes. He looked at the empty plates beside Daniel. If you stopped eating, Id really worry. What is it? Spots? Squints? Stutters? Or are they all shrews? Somethings got you in the doldrums that theyll never find husbands.

 

 

Daniel sat up straighter, instead of slouching in his chair. Thats my family youre speaking of. Not a fault among them, he declared loyally, then hoped he didnt break out in spots himself.

 

 

No offense, old man. But if they dont look or sound like they belong in a barnyard, you have no problem, not with the Royce connections behind them. My sisters got a behind like a sow and a laugh like a donkey. Well never get her off our hands. My mothers been trying for seven years.

 

 

Jeremy had jug-handle ears, a hooked nose, and no eyelashes to speak of. If Babcocks sister looked anything like him, theyd have to try for another seven.

 

 

Daniel thought of Susanna in her grown-up gown and what showed out of it. My sister is bound to be a toast. Shes young, but she doesnt simper or giggle or put on any of those debutante airs. Shes clever, too, but not bookish.

 

 

Jeremy looked too interested, so Daniel quickly changed the subject. And my mother is a fine-looking woman.

 

 

Then whats the problem with them? No dowry?

 

 

Of course my sister is well dowered. Id make certain of that, if my father hadnt. Mmother has a handsome fortune of her own, not that Id discuss it with outsiders.

 

 

Bound to be common knowledge as soon as the servants get to gossiping, Lord Morgan said. They always know.

 

 

Jeremy had his hand up the brunettes skirts, but his mind was still on Daniels problem. If your relations are passable, then it must be the neighbor girl who has you blue-deviled. Who is she? Anybody wed know?

 

 

Daniel lowered his voice. A countryman named Abbott is her sire. Theres a barony in the distant family.

 

 

Lord Morgan whistled, which brought on a gasp for air. She dont look like him, does she?

 

 

Daniel thought about lying, but if he called Corie prune-faced, his tongue was liable to swell up and choke him to death on the lie. Hell, no. Miss Abbotts a diamond of the first water, Id say. Thats if you like tall, outspoken females who are a bit on the prim side.

 

 

Jeremy screwed up his face like the wine had soured. He was short. Doesnt sound the least appealing. Not like you, my little Jewel.

 

 

The brunette giggled. The blonde slapped his shoulder. What about me, Jeremy? Arent I a jewel, too?

 

 

Thats her name, you peagoose, Jeremy explained.

 

 

The older man interrupted his nephews messy ménage à trois to ask, Nasty temper like her father?

 

 

Daniel recalled Cories tears. Not that Ive seen, but they just arrived this morning. Shes no shy young miss, though. Miss Corisande Abbott is older than my sister. Near twenty.

 

 

And still on the shelf? Id worry, too. What, is she one of those particular females holding out for a prince?

 

 

Daniel thought shed take any man with two arms, two legs, and a marriage license. I dont know. I believe her father didnt approve of any of her suitors.

 

 

Abbott aint like to put much in the gals dowry, either. Cheap bastard. Hed likely demand a fortune in settlements, too.

 

 

I wouldnt know, Daniel replied, determined to find out in the morning, so he could tell anyone who asked. Dobbson was certain to have the information, or his mother.

 

 

No one spoke for a minute or two while Lord Morgan wheezed, Jeremy breathed heavily, and Clarence Haversmith drooled over the redhead who refilled his glass.

 

 

So are you interested? Lord Morgan wanted to know.

 

 

Now Daniel choked on the smoke, or the idea. In Miss Abbott? Hell, no. Im not ready for leg shackles.

 

 

Abbotts girl is, you say? Must be, if your mother is bringing her out. Lord Morgan blew a smoke ring. Abbotts got no other heirs. Maybe Ill pop round and give her a look.

 

 

Lord Morgan? Hell, he had to be nearing sixty. Great gods, shes too young for you. She could be your granddaughter!

 

 

The older man shook his head. I didnt start as young as our Clarence, here. Mdaughter, maybe. But a man dont want an older female for his second wife. Whats the point in that? And Ive already got an heir, raising sheep and babies in Yorkshire. The thing is, a fellow gets lonely sometimes. He wants someone to look after him in his dotage, and look good on his arm before then.

 

 

I doubt her father would ever consider such a match. Daniel sure as hell wouldnt, if he was in charge of sorting through Miss Abbotts offers. Damn, was he? Hed have to ask his mother that, too.

 

 

Lord Morgan was thinking. Word is, he almost accepted Sir Neville a few years ago. Nasty piece of work, that.

 

 

Daniel did not comment. The less said about Sir Neville, the better. He almost held his breath, waiting to hear what else the older man might remember.

 

 

Id say she made a lucky escape. They say Sir Neville is queer as Dicks hatband.

 

 

Daniel relaxed, but only for an instant, until Jeremy Babcock spoke up.

 

 

If Uncle is too old, maybe Ill do. Ive got no title, but I am in Dun territory. Marriage to a rich wife seems my only option. Dont suppose youd consider me for your sis

 

 

No.

 

 

So I might have to attend a few of those balls myself. Look over Miss Abbott, see how tall she is.

 

 

Im tall, Clarence piped up, his voice nearly cracking in his excitement. Maybe shell pick me. Ill have an estate someday, and she can help my mother take care of the infants and the old aunties.

 

 

She is too old for you, Jeremy advised. No man wants to look like a babe to his bride.

 

 

Then what about your sister, Stamfield? You said shes pretty, and clever. Mum would be happy to have someone take over the household books. And add to the family coffers, dont you know.

 

 

That idea was just as repugnant.

 

 

Lord Morgan was still thinking, now that he had the notion of finding a helpmeet in his later years. You say your mother might consider getting married again?

 

 

Oh, Lord. I am not sure. She and my father were close.

 

 

You should convince her. Give her something to think about besides your own prospects and shortcomings. Yes, I might drop round.

 

 

Jeremy paused in petting his paramours. And I, I suppose. One never knows where a womans fancy takes her.

 

 

Me, too, Clarence added. My mum would want me to try. What day are the ladies receiving?

 

 

The day hell froze over and the devil went ice-skating, if Daniel had his way. That has not yet been determined, he said. But these are ladies, remember, not bits of muslin.

 

 

Of course. A gentleman dont marry the other kind.

 

 

Gentlemen? They were mongrels who should stay in their dark alleys, in the smoke and stench of their own foul kind. They had no business coming into the light where beauty and goodness and innocence shone, not these curs with their hangdog desires.

 

 

Lord Morgan wanted a nurse; Jeremy sought a wifes money to finance his own profligacy; Clarence Haversmith needed a nanny. Not one of them was good enough for a decent female like Daniels mother, his sister, or Miss Abbott. They were gamblers and womanizers and drunkards, too old, too young, too worldly, too green, too jaded, too self-centered.

 

 

They were too much like Daniel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

C
orie shouldnt forget. That was what she told herself as she put on her nightgown and brushed out her hair. She should not forget about Snelling, and she should not forget about Daniel Stamfields kiss, no matter what they agreed was best to do.

 

 

Otherwise, she might be tempted to make the same mistakes over again. Not that shed elope with another fortune hunter, of course, but she had to remember that men were not trustworthy. Not even the handsome ones. Especially not the handsome ones, with their tousled hair and bright blue eyes and boyishly awkward manners. They were the worst. And the most tempting.

 

 

Men were interested in two things from women: money and pleasure. And children, if they needed them. Snelling had wanted her money, with no use for heirs, but hed have the other, too, as a bonus. She doubted Daniel Stamfield needed her dowry, not the way Lady Cora was spending money. And he was not ready for children, by his own admission. So all he wanted from Corie was what only a husband should have.

 

 

He had no other reason to kiss her, surely not love at first sight. He had no right to kiss her, but, heavens, he kissed divinely. Of course he did, she told herself. A man known to be a womanizer had to please the women he was pursuing.

 

 

Unless he was paying them. Daniel Stamfield was known to patronize brothels, where, she supposed, no one cared if a gentleman kissed like an angel, as long as his pockets were deep. She wondered about those women, and if he cared for them, if he even knew their names. And if they dreamed of a husband of their own, too.

 

 

He was a libertine, she reminded herself. No matter how he kissed, or held her so tenderly, or tied the ribbons on her slipper with such care, her foot cradled like a dove in his big hands. He made her feel something she did not want to feel, not for him.

 

 

He almost made her forgetnot about needing a husband, not about her little house and gardenbut to be afraid of such a large, hard-drinking man. He was known to be mean and cruel and rough, yet he had not been rough with her at all, even when shed shouted at him, called him names, slapped him. Gracious, many men would have struck her back. Hed been gentle. Far gentler than she.

 

 

She shouldnt forget what shed shouted at him, that she was a lady. Not a courtesan, not one of his paid companions. Shed become a ladys maid before she became any mans mistress, if she couldnt become a bride.

 

 

She plaited her hair and tied the heavy night braid with a ribbon, then decided to start her letters. The sooner she found another place to stay, the better. She sat at the desk in the corner of the lovely room, all floral prints and soft spring colors. Shed miss seeing spring in the gardens at home, her escape from the ugliness at her fathers house. She wouldnt go back, so she had to keep her goals in mind.
BOOK: Barbara Metzger
11.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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