by Rose Gordon
The rest of her bath was spent with a dreamy smile on her face.
***
Madison walked to the main waiting room and saw that Lady Olivia was still sitting there, probably still waiting to be taken to a room. She visited so often, it was a wonder the bathhouse didn’t have a room set aside each day for her.
“Did your bath go well, Madison?” Lady Olivia asked.
“Yes, it did.” Madison looked around the room. Nobody else from her family was back yet.
“They had to wait a few minutes after you went back,” Lady Olivia said, as if she had read Madison’s thoughts. “You may sit by me if you like.”
“All right,” Madison said, taking a seat close to Lady Olivia.
“What brings you here?”
“No reason, really. We just wanted to visit a bathhouse while we were here. You?” Madison really didn’t care to hear a whole list of complaints, but it would seem rude not to try to make a small conversation with Lady Olivia.
“I have been having these dreadful headaches. It feels like my head is going to, umm…uh…” Lady Olivia stammered, waving her hand wildly as if that would in some way help her think of the elusive word.
“Explode?” Madison supplied.
“Yes, explode. I feel as if my head is going to explode, and that is the least of my complaints.” Lady Olivia dropped her voice. “The others are not meant to be said in mixed company.” Lady Olivia sent a pointed glance over to where Papa was walking down the hallway toward the waiting room.
“I do hope the bath helps you feel better,” Madison said truthfully. People often came here from all over the country to take baths in hopes of relieving their complaints. She wasn’t sure if it would help a headache or not, but maybe it would help Lady Olivia with her other complaints.
“Are you excited about the house party your uncle is throwing?” Lady Olivia asked after a few minutes, startling a daydreaming Madison.
“Yes, this party shall be the first house party I attend. I am quite excited. I’m also eager to meet some of my other relations.” Then belatedly she asked, “Will you be attending?”
“I hope so. It depends on how I feel after this bath.” Lady Olivia sighed. “I do long to go though. I hear that the Earl of Townson is also to be in attendance.”
“Is he?” Madison asked. She was certain the earl hadn’t mentioned it the day they went to the museum.
“Oh yes, I believe his going is a very good sign, too. Between us, I think he’s ready to take a wife, and I so desperately want to be there to catch him,” Lady Olivia gushed, not noticing the look of disbelief Madison was certain was printed on her face.
“You want to marry the earl?” Madison schooled her face to look only casually interested.
“Of course, who doesn’t?” Lady Olivia said airily. “Besides, I think I might have the best chance. The earl is impoverished, and I have a large dowry.”
“You don’t mind that he would marry you for your dowry?” Madison asked, truly interested in the answer.
“I still get to be a countess, don’t I? Besides, that’s the way of things here in England. I know that you hail from the land where savages run wild—pardon me for being so blunt. People don’t always marry for money. But over here, it’s the way of things. I’ve accepted it. I will find my happiness elsewhere, and I expect he will, too.”
Madison suppressed a shudder. Brooke wasn’t likely to accept less than a love match when it was time to marry. How else could she have made it to nearly three-and-twenty without a proposal if that wasn’t the case? Was there a chance that Brooke would marry the earl? If they did marry, would it only be for Brooke’s money? Surely not. There wasn’t that much money in her dowry. Anyway, how could he know if she had a dowry or not? Papa hadn’t told anyone. If they were to marry, would it be like a business arrangement where he would go find his pleasure elsewhere, leaving Brooke alone? Madison didn’t want Brooke to be hurt, ever.
Madison’s brain was conjuring up many unpleasant questions and possibilities. She finally decided she would have to watch Brooke and the earl more carefully. She wasn’t entirely certain if the earl had intentions of marriage with Brooke, but it appeared that he was serious about courting her, which could lead to marriage. Not that that was bad. She liked the earl—she really did—but she loved her sister more and wanted her to be happy. Brooke would not be happy if she had a husband who neglected her. Of that, Madison was certain.
“I didn’t mean to offend,” Lady Olivia said when Madison didn’t respond.
“Pardon?” Madison furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. She’d been so lost in her scattered thoughts she’d forgotten Lady Olivia was waiting for a response.
“I didn’t mean to offend you by saying you were from the land of savages. I mean, you are, but maybe I shouldn’t have said so. Please do not hold it against me. You are one of my dearest friends and I would hate to lose you…” Lady Olivia’s voice trailed off and a counterfeit expression of sadness came over her face.
“It’s of no concern,” Madison quickly assured her. Though, to be honest, she wondered how exactly she had become one of Lady Olivia’s dearest friends. Liberty was a lot closer to Lady Olivia—not that that said much. This was probably the most she and Lady Olivia had ever spoken. “I was just thinking of something else.”
“I see. You do that a lot.” Lady Olivia kept speaking without noticing how Madison bristled next to her. “You always seem to be staring at nothing. When I first met you, I thought it was so strange how you were always looking across the room at absolutely nothing. Most unnerving really. But I’ve gotten used to it.”
Madison's face heated and she willed herself not to say something that might embarrass her family. She had the habit, of course, but to have someone else mention it to her and in such a callous and mortifying way made her feel uncomfortable. She was about to excuse herself to go sit next to Papa when she looked up to see that Lady Olivia was no longer sitting in her chair.
“It appears as if my bath has finally been made ready for me. I look forward to seeing you at the party,” Lady Olivia threw over her shoulder as she walked toward her attendant.
Chapter 11
Andrew was making preparations for the next day’s journey to the Watson house party with Addams when Gateway’s coach pulled up on the street in front of Andrew’s house.
“Botheration,” Andrew muttered. Just what he didn’t need: another impromptu visit with Gateway.
“I could tell him you’re not receiving,” Addams suggested lamely.
“You and I both know he won’t believe that.” Andrew shook his head. “Just show him into my study when he finally descends that monstrosity he calls a carriage and decides to grace us with his unwanted presence.”
No more than three minutes later, Gateway strode into Andrew’s study as if he owned Andrew’s townhouse and not his estate in Essex.
“What do you want?” Andrew barked. It was uncharacteristic for Andrew to be short or raise his voice. Normally, he was calm and able to keep control of a situation because of it, but he was tired of dealing with Gateway and his tendency to just show up whenever he wanted to.
“Why so hostile?” Gateway asked with a stiff smile.
“Just say what you came to say, Gateway,” Andrew said as he sank into the chair behind his desk and stared at Gateway.
“I do believe at one time we were friends.” Gateway put one hand up to his chin and rubbed it with one of his fingers as if he were lost in meditation. “I even remember us calling each other by our first names, Andrew.”
Andrew’s eyes narrowed. He too remembered those days—the days when they were “friends”. He even remembered calling Gateway by his first name even though most of the others called him Channing, his courtesy title at the time. But those were not good memories for Andrew, and the less remembered, the better. “All right, Benjamin. What brings you to call on this lovely day?” Andrew asked with feigned happiness.
Gateway smil
ed a true and rare smile. The only times Andrew had seen that smile was when Gateway was about to do something unpleasant, or on the rare occasions when he spoke of some woman he was close to. “I was just wondering about any progress you have made with Brooke?” Gateway finally said.
“You mean Miss Banks?” Andrew snapped. The look of interest on Gateway’s face informed Andrew his tone was misinterpreted. Andrew unclamped his jaw and softened his tone. “Things are going quite well. Her family seems to approve of me.”
“Good,” Gateway said, plopping down in one of Andrew’s wingback chairs. “I suspect you got yourself an invitation to her uncle’s house party.”
“Yes,” Andrew answered.
“Shall I bring the deed to the party?”
Andrew thought about that. Was it possible to bring about Brooke’s ruin at this house party? She had responded to his kisses, though. That was encouraging. He might be able to persuade her to go off alone with him. The trick would be getting caught in a way that would ruin her, but not completely mortify her at the same time. He had already determined he would have to be careful with the getting caught part. He wanted to hurt her the very least possible. He wanted her ruined and gone, but he didn’t want her to be mortified for the rest of her life.
Andrew gave a slight nod. “I think it’s possible, but I cannot be sure at this point. I only get one chance at this, and I don’t want to push her too quickly.”
“Are you concerned you'll be surrounded by several of her male relatives?” Gateway inquired.
“The thought has crossed my mind. I think I can persuade them not to call me out when this is all over.” Or so Andrew hoped.
“Would it be so bad to be called out?” Gateway asked with a wicked smile on his lips.
“While you may delight in seeing me cock up my toes, I am not quite ready to do so. Nor do I wish to injure anyone else,” Andrew countered stiffly.
“I see you still have not accepted the circumstances of your father’s death eight years ago.”
Andrew had no doubt Gateway’s mentioning the prospect of a duel was to remind him the way Andrew’s father had died and get his hackles up.
It worked. He hated to think of how stupid his own father could have been. He’d been a spendthrift drunkard who was caught cheating at cards and died in a pointless duel.
Andrew didn’t aspire to do such great things with his life that would bore future generations of adolescence boys in history class, but if he could live and die with a little more dignity than his own father, then he’d consider his life a success.
“There will be no duel,” Andrew declared. A smile took his lips as a thought formed in his head. “On second thought, if there is to be a duel, you can be my second, since you have taken such a keen interest in my welfare.”
Gateway wasn’t amused. “No, I do believe my dueling days are long gone. You’ll have to find someone else to act as a second for you.”
“You’ve never fought a duel in your life.”
“Maybe so,” Gateway agreed.
“If that is all you came here to say, I need to meet with my butler about making arrangements for my trip.” Andrew got up without waiting for a response from Gateway.
“I’ll see myself out,” Gateway muttered to himself.
“See that you do, and don’t take too long to do it, either,” Andrew commented, walking out of the room.
Chapter 12
“It is such a pleasure to have you.” Aunt Regina hugged her brother-in-law, followed by each of the other members of his family.
“The pleasure is entirely ours,” Papa told his sister-in-law before giving his brother, Edward, a hug. “We appreciate your hospitality in having us here to your house and hosting this party. It’s quite an honor.”
“Think nothing of it,” the baron told his younger brother. “We are happy to do it, and very happy to get better acquainted with all of your daughters. They clearly get their beauty from their mother,” Uncle Edward said with a quick smile toward Carolina.
“This is Mrs. Morgan. She’s our housekeeper. She will show you all to your rooms,” Aunt Regina said, directing them toward the staircase where Mrs. Morgan stood on the bottom step waiting to lead them up.
“I have set up your rooms in the east wing, seeing as you’re family not just regular guests.” Mrs. Morgan was clearly proud of her decision and held her head high as she led them to the family wing.
The house was breathtaking. Everything from the vaulted ceiling to the marble floor was beautiful. Round support columns made of stone so thick, Brooke was sure even an adult male could not wrap his arms around them, were located throughout the massive entry area of the house. The entryway to almost all the rooms consisted of an arch that had a scrolling design.
The massive furnishings looked to be in pristine condition and were placed just so, making it look like a picture from a decorating plate she’d seen once. There was nothing out of place, everything perfectly coordinated and inviting. One thing Brooke was certain of was this place had certainly been decorated by a different person than the house in London. The thought made her giggle a little, which she immediately tried to smother.
“I know what you’re thinking, Brooke,” Liberty whispered. “But please try to stay composed. There's nothing more impolite than to laugh at our host and hostess in their own home.” She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of their aunt and uncle who stood by the door to greet their guests.
Brooke sobered. “I’m sorry.” The old Liberty was back. Brooke sighed. As they say, all good things must come to an end, and Liberty’s failure to point out everyone’s impropriety in the past few days had met its end. Too bad it hadn’t lasted a little longer.
Mrs. Morgan showed Brooke to her room first. “Ring if you need anything. Dinner is served promptly at seven. You may meet in the drawing room as early as half six,” Mrs. Morgan said right before she left.
Brooke checked the watch pinned on her bodice. That gave her little more than an hour and a half before going downstairs.
She closed the door to her room and wandered over to her bed. She sat down on the edge. The mattress dipped under her weight. It was a nice feather mattress, an improvement from the tick mattress she had slept on in the Dog and Fox.
Pulling off her slippers, she leaned against the headboard and propped a pillow behind her back. She glanced out the window. There were several men down on the lawn playing some sort of lawn game. Bowls perhaps?
Brooke had seen some of the neighbors in New York play five stones. She had even played a few times when Mama had been too busy at the church to know what she was up to. But the game being played down there looked like an entirely different game. Maybe tomorrow she could learn to play.
She squinted her eyes in the direction of the lawn in hopes of being able to determine who the players were. Maybe they were her cousins, or perhaps they were some local gentlemen, or even some from London.
She resigned herself to the fact she was too far away to get a close enough view of any of them to determine who they were. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and laid her head back on the pillows to take a nap, secretly hoping Andrew was one of the men out on the lawn.
***
Andrew also wished he was out playing lawn games, and it wasn’t much of a secret. Not that he had a love for lawn games, but anything had to be better than being trapped in the drawing room trying to explain to Lady Olivia Sinclair why she could not move her pawn backward in chess. “It’s against the rules,” he said one more time, hoping it would be the final time.
“But why?” she whined, causing her face to twist in the most unflattering manner.
“It just is. I didn’t make the rules, I just play by them.” Andrew tried to sound polite but she was really aggravating him with her whining and pouting. There was only so much a man could take, and if he had to take much more, he would insist on being nominated for sainthood.
“Do you always play by the rules?” she asked, bat
ting her eyelashes coyly.
Andrew tried not to let his amusement be known at her poor attempt to flirt. Lady Olivia Sinclair was clearly bad at it. That wasn’t necessarily her fault though. Some women just were. But nonetheless, her attempts were not going to work on him. “As often as I can,” he managed.
“Would you like to play another game? One that is far less tedious and with much simpler rules?” She peeked up at him from beneath her lashes.
“What kind of game do you have in mind?” Did he really want to know?
“Well, it would be an easy game of course, one where we will both emerge winners no doubt.” She shifted her upper body in a way to best show off her ample bosom.
Andrew’s eyes narrowed. What game was she playing? Surely she wasn’t looking for a lover. Or was she? What woman would suggest a “game” where both parties can win if she wasn’t looking for a lover? The maneuver she kept doing that showed off more of her chest than usual seemed like confirmation to him.
“You see, my lord, we both are in need of something. You need my money and a wife to bear your heir. And I would like to get away from my tedious family. So you see, we both win,” Lady Olivia said with a sunny smile.
The pawn Andrew held in his right hand slipped from his fingers and dropped to the floor with a soft thump. His eyes widened in surprise, and he just stared at her.
She was bold, no doubt about that. He could not remember the last time he had been so surprised or shown so much emotion on his face. Quickly, he tried to hide his surprise by arching his brow and acting as if he were really interested in her proposition, though truth be known, he would rather have all his fingernails pulled off than make her his countess.
“You cannot tell me you never thought about this before. You are in need of a fortune—everyone says so—and I have one,” she said airily, her unsightly smile not faltering a bit.
“It’s true that I lack funds at present, but I do not intend for that situation to last.” There was no point in being mean to her and telling her that even if he weren’t being faced with lifelong poverty, he still wouldn’t marry her.