The Bargain
Page 1
The Bargain
by
Jessica N. Lane
With a brutal winter looming on the horizon, pennies to her name, and her five younger siblings to care for after the deaths of both her parents, Lira is definitely feeling the pressure. When the wealthiest man in the village offers to take care of Lira and her siblings, she thinks that all her troubles are finally over. There's only one problem. He wants her to become his wife, and give birth to his heir. Adam Marshall is handsome, wealthy, and kind in a way that people like that usually aren't. In a word, he's perfect. That's the problem though. Lira has been in love with Adam since the moment she laid eyes on him, and fears she's signing herself up for a lifetime of heartbreak loving a man that will never love her back. Will this marriage of convenience actually wind up being more than either of them bargained for?
Copyright © 2017 Jessica Lane
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and occurrences are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without expressed written permission from the author.
Chapter 1
I inhaled the frigid air past my chapped lips, and stared past the broken, cupboard door at the meager offerings inside. As harsh as she was beautiful, winter had returned with a vengeance this year. And with Papa gone to the great by and by because of the summer fever that had struck him down so suddenly, the rest of us had little to no hope of making it through this year without joining him. Already, we were living off of scraps.
We'd never been the wealthiest family in the village, but Papa had been a skilled hunter. We'd never gone hungry... not until now. I rubbed my trembling hands against the clammy skin of my arms. The dress I wore was about two sizes too small, and left nearly all of my arms and legs exposed, but there was nothing I could do about it. I had five younger siblings to see to; Mama had passed just hours after bearing the youngest, Clara. I'd been their mother ever since. I worked my fingers to the bones cleaning the homes of the richer families in the village, but my wadges were downright meager compared to what Papa had made in the mines when he was still alive.
We'd cut every corner, saved every penny we could, and still... the children were getting skinnier, they shivered in their threadbare clothes, and the blustery wind knocked against the rotten walls of our house on all sides threatening to topple them at any moment.
I cut the last of a loaf of bread into five slivers, and topped them with the last remnants of a jar of strawberry jam I'd preserved over the summer. It was a meager breakfast, but at least it would be something in their stomachs. I handed out the servings of bread and jam, and then fed a few twigs I'd gathered during my walk home last night into the fireplace to hopefully keep the struggling fire going until I could return with more.
“Peter, you're in charge, Joshua, you and Sammy stay out of trouble, and finish the reading I laid out for you, keep quiet so that you don't wake the baby. Amelia, see what you can do about dinner, and see to Clara when she wakes.” The mercifully-sleeping two-year-old dosed in her bassinet. “Feed her her share of the bread. Don't open the door for anyone other than me. You all know the signal. I love you,” I called to them, wrapping mother's fur-lined cloak around me, and bracing myself before stepping out into the frigid air.
A chorus of returned “I love yous” followed me out the door. My boots sank deep into the snow, slowing my progress, but I still managed to make it to my first house with minutes to spare before my usual start time. Of course, Mrs. Michaelson let me know that she wouldn't be paying me any extra pennies just for showing up to work a little early.
I went about my work, sparing only a moment to greet each customer out of politeness before swiftly and efficiently making their homes spotless, collecting my pay, and leaving to repeat the process at the next house. The sun dipped low as I approached my last house of the day. Mentally weighing what I'd earned against the things I needed to buy at the market had me in a dismal mood. Even with what I'd get from this last house, I still wouldn't have enough for half of what we'd actually.
With a heavy sigh, I tried to put it out of my mind as I unlatched and opened the heavy, iron gate covered in frost and snow. The beauty of the finest home in the village never ceased to dazzle me. Instead of being constructed of flat boards or even whole logs like some of the homes of the wealthier families, it was built from fine, red bricks, and boasted black shingles and shutters, and a front door to match. Tall pillars held up the awning over the front porch, and two chimneys puffed rich, black smoke into the air, promising warmth. I wrapped my fingers around the gold door knocker, rapped it twice against the front door, and took a step back to wait.
The door opened, and well over six feet of man filled the doorway. Like clockwork, my heart began to race. To say that Mr. Adam Marshall was handsome would have been an understatement. I'd never seen anyone quite like him, and thought I'd never left the village, I felt absolutely certain that I never would. His hair crowned his head in thick, dark waves before brushing his neck. His eyes were a stormy gray, and whenever I found myself their focus, it was like I forgot how to breathe. I would have had to have been blind not to notice his tan skin, or tall frame thickly-corded with muscle. It wasn't just his looks though. No. Of all my clients, Mr. Marshall was the only one who actually treated me like a human being. He always greeted me with a friendly smile, paid way more than all my other clients even though he kept his house so tidy that I hardly ever had anything to do, and went out of his way to make conversation. I actually found myself looking forward to the hour or so I spent in his company at the end of the day.
And that was the problem.
He had come to the village with his wife well over five years ago, and I'd harbored a secret attraction for him for just as long. I'd known it was wrong from the start. Not only was he a married man, but also ten years my senior. However, the attraction had persisted, and only intensified now that I spent an hour a day in his home, and he had become a widower a year ago. It was a childish fantasy, a distraction I didn't have time for. He would never return my feelings, and besides, I had way too much on my plate to delude myself into something that would only lead to heartbreak.
Yeah, tell that to my heart rate, I thought miserably as I offered Mr. Marshall a small smile, and passed him on my way inside.
I'd just about made it past when I felt strong, warm hands completely swallow my frostbitten ones. He pulled me forward until I practically collided with his chest. His eyes blazed fire as they stared down into mine, and his usual smile was nowhere to be found on his face.
“Mr. Marshall?” I asked in surprise.
“Your hands are like ice, Lira. Are you trying to freeze to death out there?”
The accusation in his tone sparked my ire, and I snatched my hands away. “It isn't like I have much of a choice, Mr. Marshall. Since I can barely keep me and my siblings fed most days, new clothing for the season is a luxury I can't really afford at the moment,” I quipped. I felt a flush heat my tawny skin in embarrassment a moment later. I hadn't meant to say all of that, but he just made me so mad.... The fact that my family was so poor wasn't a secret, but we still had our pride. Or we had at least until I'd just revealed the extent of our troubles to the richest man in the village.
I turned to flee into the house, and distract myself from my blunder with work, but I suddenly felt very light-headed. My vision swam and the polished, wood floor was rushing toward my face for some reason.
And then, there was only darkness.
Chapter 2
Warm.
It was such a foreign feeling against my skin that it jarred me back into the waking world. I cou
ldn't remember the last time I'd actually felt warm, and it wasn't just because of the season either. I honestly hadn't felt warm since my mother died two years ago. My father -God rest his soul- had been a hard man, as strong and silent as the stones he spent his workday surrounded by. But Mama... she was like sunshine. And when she died, it was like the sun never rose again.
My bleary vision focused as I took in my surroundings, trying to figure out how exactly I'd wound up lying in Mr. Marshall's living room with his fine, velvet couch beneath me, a roaring fire just feet away, and his concerned eyes gazing down at my face so intently, his fingers combing through the tangled curls of my hair soothingly... tenderly. I moved to sit up, and Mr. Marshall put his hand at my back to help me. I ignored the way my stomach fluttered at his touch.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice sounding weaker than I'd ever heard it.
“You took a few steps inside, and passed out, probably from exhaustion, or hunger, or a combination of both,” he chastised gently. “When was the last time you ate something, or slept for more than an hour at a time at night?”
“I appreciate your concern, Mr. Marshall, but I-”
“Adam,” he interrupted me.
“Pardon?”
“You can call me Adam, Lira,” he said with a small smile. I'm sure I've told you that before.”
He had, and I'd deliberately avoided doing so, sure that calling him Adam instead of Mr. Marshall would somehow make the glaringly-obvious reasons why I shouldn't be pining over him less glaringly-obvious.
“Adam,” I amended, “I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, well, clearly you're doing a great job of that so far,” he said on a sarcastic chuckle.
“I beg your pardon,” I said sitting up fully, and narrowing my eyes at him in a glower.
“Well, you'll not have it, because I'm not letting you escape this conversation. Look, Lira, I've watched you take care of those kids ever since your mother died, and provide for them as best you can ever since that fever took your father. And you've done a hell of a job of it all on your own, but enough is enough; you need help.”
“I'm not interested in charity,” I said automatically. If there was one thing Papa had been sure to tell me my whole life, it was that charity was for those who couldn't do for themselves, and that as long as I could, I'd better.
“Good, because I'm not offering you any,” Adam said matter-of-factly. “No, what I'm proposing is more of a... more of a bargain.”
“What sort of bargain?” I asked warily.
“The sort where we both get something we need. You need money, food, stability for yourself and your brothers and sisters.”
All true. “And what do you need?” I asked skeptically. Wealthy, handsome, and living in what may as well have been a castle on a hill compared to my little hovel..., I couldn't imagine a man like Adam Marshall needing anything.
“You,” he said without hesitation, the look in his eyes almost predatory.
“M-m-me?” I stammered as my mind tried to deduce what he could actually mean by that.
“Yes. I find myself in need of a wife, in need of a home-cooked meal, a clean house, and an heir to carry on my family name.”
I felt my face flush when thoughts of just how this heir would come into being came -unbidden- to my mind. Standing to my feet, I shook my head in the negative as I paced to the other side of the room
“You're serious?” I asked him like what he'd just told me was the craziest thing I'd ever heard, because, in my defense, it was.
“I am.”
“It wouldn't be just me, you know. As you're already aware, I'm responsible for my younger siblings. Where I go, they will have to follow. You should choose someone less complicated,” I tried to dissuade him. After all, he only wanted me because he had a need to fill, and knew he could get me to agree when he heard how dire my situation was. And I... I was fast on the road to loving him. Maybe it was selfish of me to even consider refusing, considering how desperately me and my family were in need at the moment, but this could only end in heartbreak. If I was selfish for wanting to spare myself that pain, then so be it.
He prowled toward me with all the predatory grace of a jungle cat, shrugging his shoulders once as he crossed the room. “I love children. If my first wife had been able to conceive, we would have had a house full. And I don't want someone less complicated, Lira; I want you.”
“You're one of my clients,” I tried again.
“Then, you're fired.”
“Adam!” I complained, so indignant that I didn't even realized that I'd used his first name.
“Lira, the facts are simple.” He placed his palms against the wall on either side of my head to cage me, and leaned forward until our noses nearly touched. “You have something I need, and I have something you need, so what's it gonna be?”
Chapter 3
Packing all that we owned took only a few minutes. It was heartbreaking in a way, but I consoled myself with the hope that happier days weren't too far ahead... for the children at least. I on the other hand had just signed myself up for a lifetime of heartbreak. I, Lira Weathers had just agreed to wed Adam Marshall in exchange for a better life for the ones I loved most in this world. We'd stopped off at the magistrates office to make it official before coming to collect the children. Magistrate Philips had done nothing at all to hide his shock when he heard Adam's request, but I supposed I'd better hurry and get used to that.
After all, the entire village would probably balk and whisper about what a man like Adam Marshall could possibly want with someone like me. It wasn't just the fact that he was the wealthiest man in the village, and I barely had a penny to my name. Rich men married poor, country girls everyday. And it wasn't just that he was ten years older than my twenty-one years, because the same was true for my own mother and father. It wasn't even the fact that he'd not only have to accept me into his home, but my five brothers and sisters as well when he could have easily married someone with less complications.
No, it was the fact that extraordinary-looking Mr. Marshall had married ordinary-looking Lira. That is what would set tongues to wagging with outlandish gossip, and scornful talk. I was no ugly duckling, but I wasn't a ravishing beauty like my mother had been either. There was just... too much of my father in me. I'd inherited his frizzy curls, proud nose, and inability to keep whatever I was thinking from my face. There were prettier girls in the village. Ones who giggled at every joke rather than speak their minds. Ones whose dainty hands weren't dry and calloused from work. Ones with hair like silk, eyes the color of a summer sky, and skin white as milk.
The kinds of girls everyone in the village thought were more suited to stand at the side of a man like Adam Marshall. If I was being honest with myself, I thought that too.
Adam Marshall, however, apparently thought differently.
I hung back a step, and watched in mild amazement as he blended in with our family as if he'd always been there. He helped the children -all except Peter who was being unusually hostile where Adam was concerned- into the covered carriage after loading our meager belonging. The children had been fascinated by the snowy-white stallion strapped to the front of the cherry-wood carriage trimmed in gold, and Adam had patiently taken the time to introduce each of them to Blizzard, letting them walk up, and pet his side.
The ride back to the other end of the village was full of questions; questions from the children for Adam. I guess I couldn't really blame them for being curious. Everything was happening so fast that even I was having trouble keeping up. A least the kids were distracted with Adam for a few minutes, giving me time to think.
“You're the man who lives in that big house at the other end of the village, aren't you?” Joshua asked. He and Sammy were identical twins, and the mischievous five-year-olds were always getting into trouble.
“Are we going to live there now too?” Asked Sammy.
“Did you and Lira really get
married?” Amelia asked dreamily, a far-away look in her big, brown eyes. At only nine ears old, my little sister was already a hopeless romantic. She was already showing signs of growing up to become a great beauty, and it was only a matter of time before the boys in the village started to take notice. I made a mental note to keep a closer eye on her in the years to come.
“What's all of this really about?” Peter demanded. His voice cut through the happy chatter inside the carriage with all the subtlety of a slap in the face, and the glare he leveled at Adam was full of suspicion. At fourteen, Peter was the second oldest of my parents' children, and definitely not a little boy anymore. I should have known he wouldn't just accept the situation as easily as the other children had... because he wasn't a child. In some ways, he was even older than his fourteen years. Peter was austere like our father had been. He was far more mature than most boys his age, and even though I was the elder sibling, he'd always been protective of me. As a result, I should have known that he wouldn't take kindly to some guy staking a claim on me, especially if he thought Adam's motives were less than honorable.
The affable smile left Adam's face as he looked back at Peter with an expression of sober respect on his face. “This is about an agreement your sister and I made this afternoon. You don't need to know any more than that other than to be assured that I will not do anything to ever harm her, or any of you. We are family now.”
Peter didn't look the least bit placated, but he nodded once in acknowledgment of what Adam had said. “We'll see, and for your sake, I hope you're being honest,” my brother threatened.
“Peter,” I hissed out in reprimand.
“No,” Adam cut in. “I think young Peter and I have just found something that we have in common. We are both fiercely protective of those we care for.” His eyes held mine for a long moment afterwards, causing my heart to skip a beat.