“I see. You do understand that I cannot accept another man’s get as my heir.”
She nodded, a little too hastily. This could be her way out. From the day she suspected she might be pregnant, she had begun to work out an alternative plan. “I am sorry, Joseph.”
Would he call off the wedding? Inwardly she prayed for it.
“If you are in that condition, you will have to rid yourself of it. You may stay in town until you cannot hide it any longer, then you will go away. We will think of some excuse. You will have the child, and leave it behind.”
“What am I to do with it?”
“I care not. I do not want it referenced again. I will care for your sons, as I have promised, but I will not look after your bastard.”
Because yes, that was what it would be. She had already worked out some of the plan, assuming she would face the pregnancy alone. With the fashion for hooped skirts, she could hide the pregnancy until her sixth, maybe seventh month.
Then she would go into the country, hire a cottage by the sea, as so many women did, and pose as a widow until she had the child. She could find a home for it, but she would not cut the baby out of her life. How could she do that when the child could have only one parent?
Her current tussle had been whether she should tell Gerald. But that would do no good at all. He was marrying someone else. She would not be a mistress, and she would not be the cause of dissension in his marriage.
“I thought to bring the child home, and claim it was the offspring of the woman I left town to care for. A relative, who had left her baby in my care.” That, in a nutshell, was her plan.
“No,” he said.
He was taking the news as if she was telling him of a slight accident. How could he be so calm? Did he care nothing for her at all?
Another man would be raving by now, and while he was undoubtedly angry, she was not sure why. It could be he was annoyed his plans were not to come to fruition. “At least it proves you remain fertile,” he said. “I say nothing for your morals, but be sure, madam, once we are married you will never stray again. I will have an extra coda put in the agreement to that effect. If you take another lover, I will not only hunt him down and destroy him, I will ensure you are put under lock and key. Do I make myself clear?”
She shook with the realization that he could do that anyway. After they were married, she could do nothing about it. He could hide her away, keep her so close that she would have no life of her own. The shock numbed her.
In her mind she skimmed through the various documents they were to sign. Nowhere did it give her any personal rights. The trust her husband had set up for her would be dissolved, and another take its place with her sons as sole beneficiaries. Guilty after her one night of passion, too focused on her sons to notice any disadvantage to herself, she’d put her foot into the loop that would trap her.
“So I am to have discreet visits to the child?”
Slowly, he got to his feet. “Did you not hear me, madam?” He spoke in a low, menacing voice. “After you give birth, you will never see the child again. Do not fear, I will give you others to take its place. This will be a mistake, something forgotten. You will never refer to it, and neither will I.”
He had made her decision for her. “Then I fear I cannot marry you.”
A burden lifted from her shoulders as she straightened and looked at him. For the first time in weeks she felt herself again. She was Annie Cathcart, ready to face the world on her own terms. She had enough to survive. She would work this out on her own, and bring everything around. Thank God she had not signed anything yet.
“You will marry me.” He glanced around. “If you do not, if you fail to turn up on Saturday, I will evict you from this house. Consider it your notice, madam. You will come to the lawyer’s office on Friday and sign the agreements, then you will marry me on Saturday morning. Do you hear me?” His voice had risen now, his face mottled with fury, and his hands clenched into fists.
“I am not deaf.” She no longer cared if he saw how much she trembled. “I tell you now, I will not be there unless we can come to some agreement.”
“You might not be pregnant,” he said silkily.
Her suspicions coalesced into fact. “I am.” Not that she was completely sure, but she had considered it her duty to inform him once her courses failed to arrive. They had failed to arrive for two weeks now, but there were other signs, too.
“Be there on Friday. We will proceed from there. If you do not arrive at the lawyer’s office, I will find you. Be under no illusion, madam, I will find you, and I will ruin you.”
He left the room without another word. She heard his feet clatter down the stairs, then the doorbell jangled as he left. The door did not slam.
Before the sound had stopped echoing around the house, the parlor door opened and Matilda stood there. One look at Annie’s face and she surged forward to allow Annie to sink into her arms. “Oh, Matilda, I’m in such trouble!” Annie said, before she broke into uncontrollable sobs.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THURSDAY ARRIVED ALL TOO SOON and Annie had still not discovered a solution to her dilemma. She felt better, though, because Matilda was firmly with her. “I don’t know what you were thinking, getting involved with Joseph Stephenson,” she’d said. “He’s always been a cold fish, and everybody knows it.”
Yes, he was. Even his kisses had seemed—calculated. Except for a few times when he’d crushed her so hard she couldn’t breathe. He didn’t seem to be kissing her so much as punishing her for something, though she had no idea what that might be.
If she was pregnant, then they would cope. They would go to care for Matilda’s sister, a non-existent entity who lived in a cottage by the sea. Once there, Annie would become Matilda’s sister Caroline, the widow of a soldier.
Her plan was still good, but she’d have someone to help her with the birth and introduction of the new baby to her family. She might even get to see her boys before she gave birth. If they arranged matters right, she need only be away for a month, two at the most.
Fortunately Annie had never suffered during her pregnancies, except for some sickness at the very beginning and the usual aches and pains later on. She could think again, and put her usual pragmatic approach to work.
Like finding somewhere else to live and establish her business. She wouldn’t put it past Stephenson to turn her out of her house and lock it up so she could not get at her machinery. He would make everything as difficult as he could. She’d already apprised her work force of the situation, that she would not be marrying Stephenson after all. They had taken the news stoically, and promised to be on hand on Friday, when her time ran out. They would not let anyone in or out.
She was close to walking the streets looking for premises. Every approach she made to colleagues was met by an apologetic shrug or a blank stare. Nobody had any space to let. Every property in the City of London was fully occupied. Either that, or Joseph Stephenson had let it be known that he would take it amiss if she found somewhere to go.
Annie suspected the latter. Being a woman in the City had its problems, not least of which was their inability to walk into a coffee house and sit with the men, discussing business and making deals. She had people to do that for her, but they had proved unavailable, or unable to help her.
Stephenson had locked the City up tight. He meant to have his pound of flesh. She knew she had angered him when she’d called off their match, but she’d never taken him for a vindictive man.
She could not approach Gerald. He was a married man now. She could not blight his marriage and his life by presenting him with the prospect of a bastard. While she hated keeping the news from him, because surely a man deserved to know about his child, she could not do it.
Could not stand in the same room with him, knowing he was never to be hers. Perhaps in a few years she might find the courage to do so but not yet.
Petit stood there, smiling. “Ma’am, you have a letter.”
; She looked at the long cream document fastened with a solid red seal with misgiving. Was this her official notice to quit? “Are there men to go with this?”
“Just one.” Smiling, Petit returned to his desk and picked up his quill, commencing to scratch at his ledgers.
Annie slit the letter open, careful to keep the seal intact, although it bore no identifying mark. She liked to be neat. Inside, she found a sheaf of papers. A smaller sheet of paper fell out, a cream-lined piece of expensive notepaper. Her hands shaking, she opened it.
My dearest Mrs. Cathcart,
You may recall that some time ago we had a bargain. It has been remiss of me to let the paperwork slip through my hands, but I enclose them now, with the prayer that you make good use of them. You may note the property is made out to your oldest son, and not yourself; you are merely the trustee. That is because you told me you wished to keep your business separate from your husband’s. Now you are to marry again you might wish to keep the property separate, too, although there is provision, should you wish it, for you to take ownership of the house if you prefer.
You may be interested to know the results of an investigation I set in train weeks ago. I confess the results were borne of jealousy, but they have been interesting and very fruitful. I wait with the results, which are of a sensitive nature.
Then there was a gap, and when she read the next part, she understood why he’d done it that way. She could cut that part of the letter out and keep it separately, or destroy it if she preferred.
Annie, I miss you. After weeks without seeing you, I still go to sleep dreaming of you. I fear I will always do so. For that, and for other reasons, I have decided to curtail my agreement with Lady Elizabeth. The bargain would have been unfair for both of us. That does not mean I will return to pester you. You must tell me if you wish that to happen, but I will not set foot in the house without your invitation. When you marry, I will leave you alone to enjoy your new life.
Think of me from time to time. That is all I ask. Be happy.”
Flinging down the paper, she shoved back her chair and got to her feet, racing through to the hallway, where he stood. Without hesitation she flung herself into his arms. They closed around her.
For the first time in weeks, Annie felt as if she was coming home. Lifting her head, she gazed at his dear face. He lifted one hand to her cheek. His fingers were trembling. He wiped away the tears she was unaware she was shedding, and then, with a muffled groan, lifted her. Their lips met.
He ravaged her. Annie flung her arm around his neck and ravaged him right back, clinging to him with all the strength she was capable of. How long they stood there, in that hallway, she had no idea. She lost herself in him, wallowing in his taste and the feel of that hard body under the scratchy, fashionable clothes.
Their lips parted. His eyes shone, the creases at the corners witnesses to his happiness. “Annie, my love, what is this?”
“I’m not marrying Joseph and I told him so. He wants me out of this house by tomorrow.”
“What?”
She’d probably gabbled the information. She repeated it slowly.
“You’re not marrying Stephenson?”
“No.”
“That’s the important part. We can cope with anything else.” He lowered her to the ground, but kept his hands on her waist.
“He wants me and the business out of here by midnight tomorrow.”
“Then you can make use of the other house. How long will it take to organize everything?”
“Weeks!” she wailed.
Maud’s voice came from the top of the stairs. “Nonsense, child! Now put him down, we don’t have time for that. We have a lot of work and not much time to do it in. Where are we moving to?”
Before she could answer, Gerald said, “Bunhill Row.” He kept an arm firmly around her.
“Then I suggest we get our priorities in the right place and start with the workshops.” Maud clattered down the stairs, lifting her skirts. “Petit! We must make haste!”
Gerald’s eyes were alight with laughter. “Be warned, madam. I’m not letting you go now.” He dropped another kiss on the top of her head, and took her hand, drawing her back into her office.
Looking around, he whistled through his teeth. “What can’t you do without?”
She gestured, mutely, unable to take in her sudden change of fortune. “All of it.”
He nodded. “And why should you leave anything behind?” Turning with a whirl of figured velvet skirts, he strode from the room. “I’ll be back!” he called, and the front door slammed.
“We have the house in Bunhill Row,” she said. Her mind snapped back into action. “I’ll go out to the yard. We’ll have to defer production for a few days, but the most important thing is to get back up and running in as little time as possible.”
Out in the yard, she called her men around her and brought them up to date. She went over the plan of the new house, as much as she recalled. “The house has a large garden we can erect workshops in.”
“Soil won’t do for the machinery, ma’am. And how do we get it up and running?”
Some of the machinery was bulky. “We can set up workshops on the ground floor of the house for now. I want to take as much as we can over today and concentrate on getting production back. Everything else must be secondary to that.”
“What about the furnaces? We’ve not had them on for the last two days, but they’re still hot.”
Swiftly, she assessed the cost of new furnaces. “Leave them for now. If we have no time for them at the end, we’ll get new ones. We must take the mill, it has to be our priority.”
Her foreman nodded, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ll get the machinery packed, ma’am.”
“We have no time for that. By tomorrow we need to be out of here. It’s only two streets away. We may carry the large pieces there.”
“Do you have the key, ma’am?”
She had forgotten that part. “I have the deeds to the house. The owner is arriving with the key shortly. Start moving the larger equipment, and leave a man at the house in charge of it.”
She felt better now. At last she was doing something. Returning to the house, she found Maud ordering the maid to gather the smaller pieces in the living quarters. “You might as well strip the beds,” Annie said. “I don’t intend to spend another night under this roof.”
Maud grinned, but drew her out of the room, where the maid was carefully packing away the china and the clocks. She was using linen to protect the pieces, as they’d had no time to collect anything else. The house was in uproar, but it was a happy, busy kind of activity, with a joy that had been missing recently.
Her heart soared. Whatever came next, she had a future, and she had Gerald by her side. For now, at least. He had given her the means to go on, to continue. She hadn’t intended to accept the house, but she had little choice now. She would make matters right.
She had no time to think anything through, but for now, he was not married and neither was she. They were free to enjoy each other—if they found the time.
Back downstairs, she found the men had collected one of the carts they used to transport the wire to local customers. They had no horse. Usually one or more of the men would pull the contraption, or they’d hire one. Now they were discussing if they should try to load everything up at once, or as much as they could fit, or separate them. Annie took charge.
“Separate them into loads. If the cart breaks from the extra weight, we’ll have to move the things by hand. Carry anything we can. And we’ll carry the valuable items and leave someone to guard it.”
Their stock of silver ingots was low. They also collected silver waste, which they melted down for re-use, both household items they bought and waste from the processes.
They agreed to take the rolling mill first. God knew what that thing weighed. It took four strong men to heave it up, and at Annie’s order, they lowered it back down to the pavement. “That won’t go in the cart,�
�� she said flatly.
“Rollers,” said her foreman.
The mill was a relatively new machine, and the highest value piece that Annie owned. She didn’t want to risk the machine falling and its cogs getting misaligned. The thing was temperamental enough, but it saved so much time over the previous method, which was simply to hammer the ingot into thin sheets. Her husband’s perspicacity in buying it, expending a great deal of their income on the contraption, had paid off. Cathcart’s had prospered ever since.
Annie would drop everything else to supervise moving this piece.
They found some rollers, four long, wooden poles about six inches thick. Two men fetched them while Annie and the foreman Jem hovered over the machine, guarding it as best they could. Not that anyone was likely to be interested in running away with it.
They used an age-old method to move the machine. After spacing the rollers, the men carefully lowered the machine on them. Then they set off.
By the time Gerald returned, they were at the end of the street, with the rest of the journey still to go. She glanced at him as he alighted from a hackney. He was dressed far plainer, in a brown coat and waistcoat that could pass muster in the city. He’d dressed for work.
It took him a few minutes to see what they were doing, and by then he’d caught up with them. “I brought the keys.” He handed her a set, and she shoved them in her pocket with an absent sense of relief. She’d been prepared to break in.
She drew him aside. “I’d considered coming to Mayfair and begging you to let me change my mind.”
“No begging,” he said fiercely. “Never.” His expression shifted. “Except for one situation. Then I will go out of my way to make you beg.”
Heat rose to her cheeks when realization hit her with considerable strength. “Gerald!”
“Gerald!” he mocked gently. “When you’re screaming my name, then I’ll be happy.” His merriment overflowed.
Seven Nights of Sin: Seven Sensuous Stories by Bestselling Historical Romance Authors Page 26