Chapter 16
As luck would have it, Gareth's dilemma about where to take his new family for the night was solved for him just after an early lunch.
They had gone into a bakery, where they'd indulged in raspberry tarts glazed with sugar, and were taking a meandering route back across London when they ran into Lavinia Bottomley sweeping along in her fancy carriage. She stopped, of course — Lord Gareth was a client she wouldn't have minded servicing herself — and, upon hearing that the Wild One had just gotten married and that he and his family were in need of a place to stay for the night, she immediately offered them a room at her place.
"At no cost to you, of course," she said kindly, eyeing Juliet and the baby with sympathetic eyes. "In fact, you can have the Crimson Suite on the second floor; it's the best room, you know, and no one will disturb you."
"Good God, Vin, I cannot bring my family there!" Gareth cried, mortified.
"Don't be a prude, Gareth. Why, you can even consider this to be my wedding present."
"Absolutely not, this is unthinkable —"
"No, Gareth, wait ..." Juliet, either ignorant or uncaring of what Lavinia's erotic perfume and low-cut bodice implied, put her hand up to silence his protests. She turned to the older woman. "You're very kind. We have no place else to go tonight, and we'd be happy to accept your offer."
Gareth nearly choked. "Juliet, we cannot — that is to say ..."
"I'll not mince words here," Lavinia said, smiling. "What his lordship is trying to tell you is that I am an abbess. That is, I run a brothel."
"Oh!" said Juliet, darkening to crimson and looking quite embarrassed.
"However, it is a very nice brothel," Lavinia added. "Exclusive. I only allow clients who have wealth, wit, and breeding." She winked. "Keeps out the riff-raff, you know."
"I, uh ... I see," Juliet said faintly. She mustered a wan little smile. "Please forgive my hesitation, Mrs. Bottomley; staying in a brothel is not something I have ever done before, and this is a bit ... well, awkward. However, we are in need of a place to stay tonight, and you are being most generous —"
"There's no need to apologize, my dear, I understand perfectly," Lavinia said, patting Juliet's arm. "But a room is a room, yes? I'll make sure it's made comfortable for you and that no one disturbs you; why, I think I can even find a cradle for the baby. How does that sound? And if we leave now, whilst it's still fairly early, no one will even know you're there."
Juliet nodded once, her mind made up. "Very well, then. We'll take it."
"Now, wait just one moment," Gareth protested, growing angry. "I will not have my wife and daughter spending the night in a bawdy house!"
Juliet took him aside, leaning close to him and tilting her face up to whisper in his ear: "Gareth, I don't like this any more than you do, but it's only for one night, and it will save us some money."
"We have plenty of money, we don't need to be frugal!"
"That is the most absurd statement I've yet to hear you utter."
He set his jaw.
She continued, "You gave most of your money to the vicar, and what Perry and the duke gave us, though substantial, won't last forever. We cannot afford to be choosy, Gareth. Now, please — put aside your pride for a moment and be practical, would you?"
"It has nothing to do with pride. I want to bring you to a hotel," he said sullenly. "A nice hotel. It's our wedding night, Juliet; you deserve no less."
"A wedding night is a night just like any other," she said pragmatically, her unthinking words inadvertently cutting him to the bone. She saw the sudden hurt in his eyes and laid her hand on his wrist. "We don't have money to waste, Gareth."
He stared at her, crushed by how lightly she seemed to regard the symbolic parts of marriage that he considered special — that she, had she loved him, would consider special, too. Was that how she rated their marriage, as well? Dispensable? Not worth some extra effort? He wondered, rather bitterly, if her marriage to Charles would have meant so little that she would have dishonored it by spending their wedding night in a brothel, as she was happy to do with theirs.
Somehow he doubted it.
"Very well, madam," he said, retreating into formal aloofness to disguise his hurt. "Have it your way, then."
The Wild One Page 38