The Trouble With Virtue: A Comfortable Wife\A Lady by Day (32 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

“I
SUPPOSE
THIS
means you’ll be
my
man of business now, Joseph,” Sir Noah said outside Elias’s rooms when they left him to dress, and Josephine smiled, because she knew that would irritate him more than anything.

“You
will
need a London man of business now that your plans have taken such an unexpected turn,” she told him. “How fortuitous that you may receive a shipyard after all, and under much less ambitious terms than you originally contemplated. I expect once you reaccustom yourself to London once again, you will be reminded of its many benefits and you will hardly miss your Mediterranean life.”

“You say that as if you plan to simply stand by while Elias signs the shipyard over to me.”

“It has nothing to do with me. Elias is master of his own affairs.” But there would be no signing of the shipyard over to Sir Noah.

“It seemed to me he is master of little more than a whore’s quim and several bottles of port. Tell me, is that the reason for your employment, Mr. Bentley?”

He was furious. It was there in his blue eyes, cold as the Arctic now and brimming with aggravation.

“I do hope the state of Elias’s health has impressed itself upon you,” she said as she started down the stairs, “and that you can understand now that involving Elias in a Mediterranean venture would be impossible. I do regret how disappointed you must be.”

“This has nothing to do with any bloody shipyard venture, in Turkey or London or anywhere else. The last time I saw Elias—and granted, it’s been nearly twenty years—he lived and breathed that shipyard. Even the last letters I received before you began intercepting them gave no hint of this. Frustration? Aggravation? Yes. But never apathy.”

She paused on the landing, listening to Sir Noah’s memories and concerns. They mirrored hers so perfectly. But if Sir Noah’s presence in London had less to do with the shipyard venture than with Elias himself, it changed everything—for the worse, because it would make him all the more tenacious.

“Perhaps, as Elias has aged, he has begun to see that things like shipyards and construction contracts are not what our Maker will ultimately be concerned with,” she said.

“If that were his line of thinking, I doubt very much he would suppose his Maker would prefer a list of brothel triumphs. Let us cut to the chase, Joseph. Elias may be suffering some effects of age, but that’s hardly the entire story.”

“I never meant to pretend that it is.”

“It’s as if he’s lost his interest in life. As if carousing has become his only interest. And—good God—
wigs.
”

“I won’t deny it.” Trying to deny it further would only make her look foolish.

“Then it appears we are both in agreement that something needs to be done.”

“We are. And I am in the process of addressing the situation.” Her voice came out a bit too sharply. His shipyard plans she could combat—Elias himself had no interest in that kind of effort. But if Sir Noah got it in mind to help Elias, that would be another matter entirely.

“You are?” he asked skeptically. “How?”

“I’ve identified a house in the country that is for sale. I have an appointment to view it this week. I’m told it’s lovely—very quiet.”

“Oh, yes.” His words dripped with sarcasm. “A fine solution indeed.”

“Mays Abbey presents the exact kind of calm and peaceful setting which will best promote Elias’s health and soundness of mind, and where he may repose himself with a minimum of distraction.”

“Does it?” He laughed, closing the gap between them. “Perhaps you haven’t considered that there are any number of savory Covent Garden ladies who would happily settle into this
Mays Abbey
permanently. Elias Woodbridge, host of the never-ending house party.” It was far too easy to imagine. “On the other hand,” Sir Noah went on, “he could fare very well under my supervision in Turkey.”

And there it was: Sir Noah’s true intentions revealed.

She allowed her lips to curve, as if she found the idea amusing. “An excellent idea, Sir Noah. Nothing could suit Elias’s condition more perfectly than the exotic indulgences of life in the land of the Moors.”

His lips curved. “You could always come with us. To ensure his safety and well-being.”

The idea unfurled like a sail being hoisted to catch the wind. For one vivid moment she saw herself during the voyage from Gibraltar to England all those years ago, standing on the deck with the wind in her hair and a fine, salty spray in her face. Watching the seabirds, the porpoises...the impossibly handsome first mate, Ahmet, who had let her look through his little telescope.

Mama and Charlotte and even Father had spent nearly the entire time below. But the sea—and Ahmet—had called to Josephine like the Sirens themselves.

“To ensure his early demise aboard an uncomfortable ship bound for the Mediterranean,” she countered.

“Ah, Joseph. I could make Elias every bit as comfortable aboard my ship as he is in his own bed. If you doubt it, perhaps you would care to join me for an evening in my cabin.”

His words settled over her like a touch, and intimate places on her body flared suddenly to life.

“Such a tempting offer, Sir Noah. But I shall take your word for it. Anyhow, Elias’s hypothetical comfort aboard a ship is irrelevant, as he has already declared himself uninterested in going anywhere.” She did not want to see how deeply Elias’s situation troubled Sir Noah. Did not want to remember the emotion in his voice when he had first clasped Elias’s hand. “Country air and quiet will do him a world of good,” she added.

“While his mind atrophies and he quietly goes insane. Or supplies himself with every kind of ribald entertainment available to a man with a large house in the country.”

She thought of the way he had insisted on having that coffee, so smoothly that anyone would have imagined he
wanted
to open the bottle but feared the result. If not for Elias, perhaps he would have gladly indulged.

“But I would hazard a guess that your influence could change his mind about my Turkish shipyard,” he said.

He thought she would try to change Elias’s mind? She couldn’t help it—she laughed. “My goodness, Sir Noah, you
have
spent too much time away from civilization. I shall see that the necessary papers are delivered to you as soon as possible. Of course, it will take time to compile everything in a manner that promotes ease of viewing.”

“Oh, I would hate for you to go to any trouble, Joseph. I’m sure I can decipher the papers myself. I propose we begin with the account books. Those shouldn’t require any preparation on your part. Shall we say this afternoon?”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I must take my nieces visiting this afternoon.”

“This evening, then.”

“This evening I must return to see Elias, and then I am to accompany my nieces to a private musical entertainment. Quite frankly, Sir Noah, I can’t imagine I shall have time to produce any records before next week. I must return home to see to my nieces—
do
have a lovely afternoon.”

* * *

I
F
S
IR
N
OAH
thought she was simply going to hand over all of the shipyard business and allow him to use it to his own advantage, he was very wrong. Elias
needed
that shipyard. What little work he still did was the only thing preventing him from sinking into complete oblivion.

He would find interest in it again once he was away from the baser distractions of London.

“Do forgive my tardiness, dears,” she said, sweeping into the upstairs drawing room having just arrived home. At the writing table by the window, Pauline flipped her sketchbook shut and turned abruptly in her chair. “My visit with Mr. Woodbridge took longer than expected. I must change into a different gown, and then I shall be ready for our afternoon.”

“Do you think we shall see Captain Ryson, Auntie Jo?” Lettie asked, sitting in a chair with Bentley on her lap. “And do you think Papa would approve of him?”

Pauline pushed at her spectacles and peered over her shoulder.

“Darling, everyone approves of Captain Ryson,” Josephine said. And it seemed he was developing a keen interest in Lettie. Hope for a quick understanding welled up from a deep place that wanted desperately to fulfill her promise to Charlotte, to prove to her sister that there was no more reason to worry. She was no longer the young, reckless Josephine who listened to her heart instead of to reason. She would use her station to see that the girls made excellent marriages, and Charlotte could put her mind at ease. If Lettie became engaged to Captain Ryson, there would just be the matter of Pauline.

Josephine looked at Pauline now, and her heart squeezed. She might have been the elder, but she wasn’t ready for marriage. Josephine knew it, Charlotte knew it—the only one who refused to consider the obvious was Charlotte’s husband. For heaven’s sake, at eighteen Pauline looked twelve. Small bones, delicate features, huge childlike eyes... With her auburn hair swept up and her intricately embroidered sacque gown, she looked more doll than woman.

Josephine rubbed her temple against a small, throbbing headache.

Lettie set Bentley aside and stood gracefully. “Aunt Josephine, are you feeling quite well?”

“Just a small headache. Nothing a cup of tea won’t soon banish.”

“Don’t fret about us,” Lettie said, touching Josephine’s hand. Her dark hair and eyes were exactly like Charlotte’s—if her somewhat flighty personality was not. “We have plenty to occupy ourselves,
don’t
we, Pauline?” She turned her head and pointedly arched a brow at her sister.

“Indeed.” Pauline put a small drip of sarcasm into her timid voice. “I would be perfectly amenable to staying indoors this afternoon.”

“No doubt you would, so that you may continue drawing your ships.” Lettie turned back to Josephine. “Mother doesn’t like her to draw ships. She says they represent a coarse and wild existence that should not occupy a young lady’s imagination.”

A bark of male laughter came from the doorway. “A true representation indeed!”

Josephine turned abruptly, just as Edgar announced their visitor and Bentley jumped off the chair and ran to the doorway in a frenzy of wagging and wiggling.

“Sir Noah Rutledge, your ladyship,” Edgar said.

Sir Noah picked up Bentley and strode into the drawing room as if it was a ship and he was its master, showing off his coarse and wild manners by appearing not half an hour since she’d left him with Elias. What the devil did he think he was doing?

“Sir Noah,” Josephine managed to say calmly. “What a happy surprise.”

“How gratifying that you think so.” His blue eyes sparkled with calculations that told her this visit was part of some kind of strategy. He rubbed Bentley’s neck and looked at Pauline with interest. “Someone is dreaming of the sea?” He spoke as if they’d all been closely acquainted for a lifetime.

“These are my nieces, Miss Pauline Eckert and Miss Leticia Eckert.” Lettie dipped a graceful curtsy. Pauline pushed herself out of her chair and managed a small bob.

“Pauline is forever drawing ships and turbulent seas and pirate coves,” Lettie informed him. “Other young women draw flowers and fruit. Pauline draws cannonballs and barrels of rum.”

“Vastly more interesting subjects,” Sir Noah agreed.

Pauline—quiet, sensible Pauline—moved her arm over her sketchbook as though it contained nudes. “I draw flowers and fruit,” she protested.

“Passiflora and coconuts,” Lettie scoffed. “I daresay she came to London with the singular hope of hearing Auntie Josephine tell stories about Corsair Kate.”

“I did not.”

“Corsair Kate.” Sir Noah’s brows edged upward. “I had no idea your ladyship kept such company.” His mouth said
your ladyship,
but his eyes roamed over her with anything but respect, lingering near the base of her throat.

“Katherine Kinloch was a childhood friend,” Josephine explained evenly. “I haven’t seen her since we were girls—” since before Katherine’s ship was tragically captured by Barbary pirates en route to Gibraltar “—so I have no stories to tell, as Lettie well knows.” She gave Lettie a scolding look. “Now. Do forgive us, Sir Noah, but we are expected elsewhere within the hour.”

“I’m nothing if not forgiving,” he said, handing Bentley into Lettie’s waiting arms and following Josephine out.

Outside the room, she faced him. “I’m sure I remember telling you I could not possibly have any papers ready this quickly,” she said evenly.

“Oh, certainly not.” His tone said he didn’t expect her to ever have them ready. “I thought perhaps, since you plan to be out for the afternoon, I might be permitted to view some of the shipyard records while you’re away. Since you won’t be working on them, it seemed the perfect time.”

“They’re in a terrible state of disorganization, I’m afraid. It would avail you nothing to see them now.”

“Wouldn’t it.”

“But I will let you know the moment I’ve been able to put something in order.”

“I’m sure you will. In the meantime, I would be just as happy to merely
discuss
the situation with the shipyard.”

“As would I, and I certainly would make the time to discuss it with you now, except that my nieces are waiting, and I am not dressed for visiting. So I’m afraid our discussion will have to wait.”

“On the contrary.” He smiled wickedly. “I’m happy to discuss it while you prepare for your afternoon.”

Irritation reared up, but she laughed. “Sir Noah, I am not one of those ladies who make a habit of inviting men into her dressing room. You may see yourself out.”

“Very well. Perhaps another time.”

Josephine turned her back and went to her dressing room, where Mary already had her afternoon gown set out. She was nearly down to her shift and stays when Mary let out a small cry. “Your ladyship!”

Josephine turned to find Sir Noah lounging in the doorway, watching her. “Have I done something out of turn? Do forgive me. There are so many rules of behavior in London that I’ve forgotten over the years.”