by Robyn Carr
Vieve felt her cheeks become warm. There were people all around them. Although their voices were hushed, she did not wish to be overheard in such a provocative conversation. Conjecture over affairs and promises would provide irresistible gossip.
“Please, Andrew...”
“I demand to know what’s going on.”
“Will you hush?”
“If you don’t explain the sudden change in your behavior toward me, I shall have to speak to Lord Ridgley about—”
She couldn’t bear to hear another word. She took his hand and walked with him out into the quiet dusk of the garden.
“You’re right, I must try to explain. But I warn you, Andrew, if you try to take advantage of me, I’ll scream loud enough to bring the whole party outside.”
“You’ll what? Good Lord, what’s gotten into you?”
“I’ll tell you, if you’ll only listen to me. The problem is that you seldom do listen, you are so anxious to get me locked into your arms.”
“Your tastes have greatly changed. I remember when you welcomed my embrace. Now you behave as though I’ve committed some scandalous offense, when I’ve loved you so desperately that I’ve been...oh, hell, you’ve fallen for the Yankee clod. It’s perfectly clear. You shared my desires willingly enough before he came along.”
Vieve’s cheeks were no longer flushed from embarrassment. She was slowly burning into a rage. She clenched her fists, trying to keep control. “Do you see? You never let me speak.”
Andrew pursed his lips and plunged his hands into his pockets, the gesture making him appear more as a small boy in a snit than a man in love. “Say what you have to say. I’m listening.”
“I think we have gone too far without my father’s approval. I am sorry.”
“I see,” he said angrily. “And what exactly does that mean?”
“I am very fond of you, Andrew. My father has not asked me to refuse your company, nor has he finally denied your petition to marry me. All he asks of me is that I take a little time, use a little patience and restraint, to be sure that marriage with you is the best possible choice for me. I think that is a fair request. And I cannot offer my father that assurance when I am constantly in your company, continually struggling with your lustful demands.”
“So, you expect me to sit idly by like some docile eunuch while you look over the other prospects?”
“No, no. I wish only to know more about our prospects for the future. You have never mentioned how you plan to support me.”
“I have family lands, as do you. The fact that I am not as rich as you has never bothered you before.”
“My father is not so wealthy as you think, Andrew. I must marry responsibly. There is a great deal you could do to that end. You might at least show some interest in the businesses in which my father is engaged.”
“There is plenty of time for that,” he told her tiredly. “I have my own family lands to manage right now.”
Vieve laughed suddenly. “Good Lord, Andrew, when do you do that? I’ve never seen you work a day, unless you are working to get me alone.”
“If that is your doubt, it comes too late, in my opinion.”
“I thought I knew my own mind, Andrew, but when I saw how much I dared on your behalf, I... I’m sorry; it is only partially your fault. I have to take my share of the blame. I confess that I was brought to my senses the night I risked my safety, my reputation, and my father’s respect by giving in to you. I think you have pushed me beyond all the proper limits.”
“You risked no more than showing the limits your love would go. In time, even your father would have understood.”
“You take far too much for granted. My father would have been furious.”
“I am desperate for you,” Andrew went on, undaunted, “and after all that has passed between us, you would have me look the other way while you thrash about in search.... Is it one with more wealth you wish, or a more virile man? Lord, what sort of scruples do you have?”
She stiffened, deeply hurt by his implication. Of all the people in the world, the man who had constantly sworn his love and begged for one taste of her body should not now question her morals. How could he claim devoted love in one breath, then doubt her integrity in the next?
“Do you think me indecent, Andrew?”
“Your intention lacks decency, madam,” he countered.
She eyed him warily. “Would I be more decent if I went into the garden with you and yielded to you finally and irrevocably?”
“Do not turn my motives around,” he said angrily. “I want to marry you; my intentions are most honorable.”
“If you honor me at all, cease in your demands,” she said hotly. “Show me your devotion without demanding my virtue in payment.”
He grasped her suddenly by her upper arms, hurting her. His eyes blazed with fury. He spoke through lips whitened with tension and hostility. “This is not child’s play, madam. Much of your virtue has already rested in my hands. It is too late for you to change your mind and go to another man.”
“Another? I have said nothing to indicate there will ever be another man, but if I do accept your proposal, it must be with a clear conscience. How can you deny me that?” she finished, shaking her head with a new confusion. She had faced much of Andrew’s impatience, but he had never seemed so selfish or cruel.
“We have shared tender moments. I have dared much with you,” she said softly, “but I am still pure.”
“Oh? If I tell your father each detail of our tender moments, will he agree?” he asked in a menacing tone. “If I describe the sweet flesh of your breasts, will your brother bid me step aside and give you time to set your mind to marriage with me? A decent woman is sure before she commits so much to a lover’s caress.”
Vieve was shaken by his ferocious grasp, by his threateningly ominous tone. She searched her memory for a time in the past when she might have realized his resistance to reason. But she had never before suggested that they would not be wed; she had answered his desire to be married with agreement.
“I think you had better let go of me, Andrew, unless it is your wish that I add fear to my other doubts.”
It was as if what she said finally reached him, for his features softened and he slowly released her with an apologetic shrug. She rubbed her upper arms, and a shiver of apprehension ran through her. “You certainly have the option of shaming me before my family,” she said with all the determination she could muster. “But I am confident of their trust, and I think it would not hurt my case as much as yours.”
“I think you’re making a big mistake,” he warned her. “Do not expect me to wait quietly while you taste the passions of other men.”
“I don’t believe you really think that is my intention. You are angry, that’s all.”
“You came to me easily enough.”
No slap in the face could have hurt as much. Vieve looked at him with shocked wonder that would cost her many sleepless nights. How could she have been so wrong about him? This man had cajoled, begged, manipulated, and pressured her. She had succumbed to a large degree, true, but she had not brazenly sought his affection. He had not only worked hard and long to gain her acquiescence, but had sworn his devotion and respect. All lies?
“Will you make me appear a hoyden and a tramp unless I yield yet more? Now, Andrew? Will you take me here, in the garden, at my brother’s wedding party?”
His eyes were cold and implacable. “If you ask me to step aside and withdraw my proposal so that you may look over the available stock of men, you are little more than a common slattern in my eyes. I have, for more than a year, committed myself to only you, enduring no small amount of misery. You should have raised your doubts much sooner. My life has been promised to you; by right, you owe me your vows, your body, and your dower estate, just by what has already transpired.”
Vieve stepped backward one step, then two, feeling a strong need to put distance between them. “Thank heavens we had this talk, Andrew,” s
he said, still retreating. “It is very clear we are not right for each other. It is good that we know it now, before it is too late.”
“You don’t worry that I will soil your reputation among all the other suitors?” he asked with bitter sarcasm in his voice.
“Indeed, it worries me a great deal,” she said with grave certainty. “If you do that, Andrew, it means I have been wrong about you from the beginning. And that would be so very unfortunate.”
Before he could say another word, she turned quickly away and hurried back into the house. She went directly to where her father sat with some of his friends. Lord Ridgley rested a full tankard of ale on one knee and noticed her arrival, but not her distress. She was about to sit down beside him when she became aware of a great stir among the guests. Evelyn was being urged toward the stairs by her maids to be prepared for the nuptial bed; Paul was being raised atop the shoulders of his fellows with much chortling and crude jesting.
Evelyn wrestled herself away from the maids and struggled, laughing, through the throng of men who made a great show of detaining her spouse from his rightful place at her side. She came breathlessly toward Vieve, her eyes alight with excitement and joy, her cheeks flushed with happiness. She pressed the small prayer book encased in a bed of roses into Vieve’s hand. “We are truly sisters now,” Evelyn said. “For your own wedding, my dearest, which will be soon.”
The single women in attendance pulled impatiently at Evelyn, eager for the fun of making her ready for her husband. The ritual was a bawdy and merry one, and the highlight of every noble wedding. Despite the laughter and tugging from behind her, Evelyn’s eyes were only for Vieve as she passed the treasured book and bouquet on to the next bride. Tears wet Vieve’s cheeks as she embraced Evelyn. “Be happy, my love,” Vieve said with much emotion.
The maids succeeded in drawing the bride away toward the stairs, and the men became louder in their cheers and shouts as Evelyn disappeared from sight. An elaborate mockery of getting the groom too drunk to stand, much less to do his duty as a husband, was staged. The men held Paul and pushed full tankards toward him, but he pursed his lips and refused the brew. The laughter in the room was boisterous, and the wrestling among the men was wild, but even through the clamoring crowd Vieve could see Andrew glaring at her from across the room.
She raised the prayer book and flowers to her face, as if she would capture the sweet scent, hiding her angry tears. Within moments Paul had managed to make his escape from his friends and stood victoriously at the foot of the stairs. A round of cheers at his success filled the room, and Vieve turned away from the scene.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and whirled around, prepared to slap Andrew’s face if he dared approach her. The raucous noise all around was deafening, and no one noticed that Tyson Gervais had singled her out. She knew from his frown that her tears were visible. “Can I be of some assistance, damoiselle?”
“Not at the moment, Captain.”
“When, then?” he asked, his eyes burning bright.
“Not in the near future, sir.”
“Do you tease me purposely?” he asked, smiling at her as if he only joked.
She gave a short, bitter laugh. “I have learned to play no games with you, Captain. Do not pester me. At the moment I think I hate all men.”
He smiled down at her and lifted her chin with a finger. “Perhaps you have just tired of little boys, madam. If so, I am at your service.”
He turned away from her and disappeared into the throng of well-wishers. She followed his departing form until he was out of sight, and then her gaze slowly moved toward Andrew. He stood red-faced and furious just inside the veranda doors. His fists were clenched at his sides as if he struggled with the urge to beat the Yankee senseless.
The warmth of London in July caused the city to steam, and every man on the street forecasted a good harvest and mild winter and thus a chance to recoup their losses from the two past rugged cold seasons. As Tyson Gervais waited in his coach beside the charred remains of Lord Ridgley’s warehouses, he thought of Virginia and longed for the mild comfort of summer at his own home.
His family had conceded that he deserved a rest from his Richmond plantation. The duel with Michael Everly had taken its toll on the entire Gervais family. When Tyson said he was leaving the management to his brothers, no one balked at such responsibility, but when he said he was going to England, they thought him mad. They did not think visiting the homeland of a man he had recently killed showed any sense at all. But gathering some information about Michael Everly, who had claimed to be a British aristocrat, was Tyson’s first priority.
Tyson was a rigid man and when his mind was made up, he stood firm on his decision, however much it rankled those around him. But so far he had had no success in finding any family named Everly in London, and his pursuit of this man’s kind needed to be cautious. He hired a young solicitor named Humphrey to continue the search on his behalf. He was not at all surprised that Everly had not descended from royalty. Noble names were very easy to trace.
Tyson prepared himself to become entrenched in business while Mr. Humphrey continued investigating the young man named Everly. As he looked in the direction of the warehouses, he saw that Lord Ridgley was completing his conversation with a building agent. As he walked toward the coach, Tyson smiled to think how brisk his stride was for a man of sixty years.
“There is no disparity in the sum required to rebuild, Captain,” Lord Ridgley said as he settled himself into the coach. “This man and the three before him have come up with like sums that will not change. And though building through winter will be difficult and expensive, it can be completed in time for shipments as early as June.”
Tyson nodded. “The price is a good one, my lord.”
“It is horrendous, but then you expected as much, didn’t you?”
“I am aware of the cost of building, my lord. But I am certain that the cost will only increase when trade between our countries is supported by the government, which I perceive will happen quite soon. Washington has already sent an emissary to London to discuss the issue. I hope to make many shipments to England in the future and I am therefore resistant to temporary arrangements. However, I cannot pilot my own vessels for many years. What of the future management?”
“At the risk of sounding like a prattling old man, I would advise that we settle on a hired manager, from your own colony of Virginia if it suits you. Paul is a good and determined young man, but much better at farming, husbandry and estate management. I watched him struggle to help me with the merchant business, and I don’t see any gift for trade in his blood. Bless him, he has inherited more of his mother than his father.”
“A hired manager would suit me fine.”
“I don’t think you should invest blindly and leave England. If we can come to terms, I would suggest that you see through the building, if at all possible.”
Tyson smiled in sudden surprise. “Do you advise me to stay near and thereby protect my investment?”
Boris laughed shrewdly. “In a manner, young man. It is not that I think myself incapable, but at this precise time it is better that I remain in the country. We have a new family member, and I’m afraid my home needs my attention.” He leaned forward in his seat as the coach jolted into action. “If you have any doubts that I intend a fair partnership with you, you can assure yourself by remaining on the site of building to see it through.”
“If I doubt, my lord, I will not invest.”
Lord Ridgley leaned back. “You make me miss my youth, Captain. I was much like you at your age. You are ambitious to a fault, coming to do business in the one country where you face the greatest risk, yet where the largest possible profit exists. I admire your courage.”
“You amuse me,” Tyson said. “As I watched you talk to the building agent I was thinking I would be a lucky man to have your strength and energy at sixty.”
“From what you’ve told me about your own life, being left a huge family prope
rty and siblings when you were but a lad, it strongly resembles my own. The fact is that I was so consumed with business that I did not marry until I was your age. Until half my life was gone I didn’t have the time. And since I married a young woman, I expected I would leave her a widow.”
Tyson looked out the window as they passed through the wharves and into the city, but said nothing.
“When do you expect to hear from your family?” Lord Ridgley asked with obvious impatience.
Tyson looked back at the baron. “They will respond at their earliest opportunity, I’m sure. Be patient, my lord. An ocean keeps us from making a final commitment.”
“I must warn you, Captain, I have had another offer.”
“A good one?” Tyson asked, lifting a brow.
“Extremely good, but there was a definite drawback. A local merchant sent an agent to me with a large sum available, but unfortunately the man does not have a shipping concern with a line of plantation goods. That possibility still entices me more toward your offer. But a long wait is not good for my purse. If we can’t make a final decision soon, I shall be forced to take the sum.”
Tyson smiled at the baron. “Either you have a devious plan to rook me in the deal, or you expose too much of your poverty, my lord. Knowing you are hungry for my money...I could lower my price.”
“You could,” the baron replied, “but it is a partnership you plan. I cannot see the advantage in lying to you. Surely you would guess, despite any craftiness from me, that I would rebuild myself if I could afford the cost.”
Tyson leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I made many inquiries about warehouse space myself, and one of those owners I had earlier sought returned to me with an irresistible offer of leased property.” Tyson watched as the baron’s eyes widened in surprise and then he scowled.
“Did you accept?”
“If he had been quicker with the offer, I would have. But I found the sum to be suspiciously low, and I have come to the conclusion that no matter what the price, owning is far better than leasing. I have a large family—there are many heirs.”