With His Ring (Brides of Bath Book 2)

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With His Ring (Brides of Bath Book 2) Page 21

by Cheryl Bolen


  As she drew closer to Diana, Glee realized her sister-in-law was quite ill. Not only had the color drained from her face, but she also began to tremble as if she had been broadsided with a blast of frigid air. "Here, dearest," Glee said, handing her the water and laying her arm around Diana's shoulder. "I declare," Glee said with worry, "you're burning with fever."

  George's brows dropped as he lowered his worried face to Diana's. "Come, my love," he said gently, "we must get you home to bed. I'll have a doctor come."

  "I was fine an hour ago," Diana said feebly.

  "But you're quite sick now," Glee insisted.

  Thomas stepped forward and offered his carriage to take them immediately back to Winston Hall.

  Glee watched after them as they left the Pump Room. She worried about her upset brother as much as she worried about his stricken wife. "I hope Diana's affliction passes soon," she said, tucking her arm into Blanks's. "Come, dearest," she said somberly, "we had best go home, too."

  She was anxious to get to the privacy of her chambers so she could read the note from the odious William Jefferson.

  Chapter 24

  Gregory directed a stern glance across the breakfast table at his wife. "Oblige me by not even asking about us smuggling you into the cock fight. I daresay if you found pugilism offensive to your feminine sensibilities, a cock fight—with its fatalistic outcome—is tenfold more bloody."

  Glee looked suitably repentant. "I am cured, dearest heart of mine. I have neither the desire to dress as a boy nor the urge to see man or beast beaten to death. Who do you go with today?"

  "Since the twins will be riding with Appleton and his brother, I shall take my carriage over to Winston Hall to collect Thomas and George."

  "I don't believe Thomas shares your interest in cock fighting."

  Gregory shrugged. "You're most likely correct. It's my understanding that as a younger man he was single mindedly frugal. Were you not the one who told me he worked as a groom and saved every farthing he earned in order to seek his fortune in India?"

  She nodded. "Therefore, my dear brother-in-law's youthful education in the pursuit of fun and sport has been sadly neglected. A pity he only has one of the largest fortunes in England to show for his wasted youth!"

  "Why do I feel as if you malign me because my fortune is only inherited?"

  "But, my dear husband, you have earned your wealth by having to put up with me for a wife!"

  He could tell by her mischievous smile she spoke with levity. "Keeping you out of the briars is rather a full-time occupation, to be sure." He rose and scooted his chair back up to the table. "What will you do today?"

  "I have. . .errands throughout the city that will require my attention."

  He moved to her and brushed his lips against her cheek. "I'm depending on you to behave yourself, my sweet." He swept from the room and through the house to his waiting carriage.

  At Stanton Hall he disembarked from the carriage, and a footman let him into the great house, where a butler announced him to Thomas.

  From his library, Thomas dashed into the marbled foyer to greet him. "If you'll have me, I'll join you, but I'm afraid Sedgewick won't be able to make it."

  "So he's caught whatever it was that caused Lady Sedgewick to become ill at the Pump Room yesterday?

  "Not exactly," Thomas said, his brows plunging. "My sister is no better today, and George is terribly worried about her. He sat by her bed all night."

  Just then George descended the sweeping staircase. "There you are, Blanks. Sorry, old boy, that I won't be able to come to the cock fights today."

  Gregory walked to the foot of the stairs to meet him. "Lady Sedgewick's not any better?"

  George shook his head grimly. "I'm devilishly worried about her. It's not like her to be so sick."

  Gregory was at a loss to understand why having a sick wife would keep a fellow from one of his favorite pursuits. It was not as if he were having to travel for days to see the cockfight. For God's sake, he'd be back in two hour's time. But it was not Gregory's lot to question George's motivation. "You've had the doctor?"

  "Yes. He bled her and feels certain she'll be back to normal in a few days—after the fever has run its course. But the long and short of it is I can't possibly leave her. I shouldn't enjoy the fights for worrying about her."

  Gregory turned to Thomas. "Are you as upset about your sister as her husband is?"

  "No one's as upset as her husband is," Thomas said with a chuckle. "Never let it be said he married my sister for her dowry. No man could cherish a wife more than he does."

  George clapped a hand on Gregory's back. "I'd better hurry back to Diana. I don't like to leave her alone."

  Once he had mounted the stairs and was no longer within hearing distance, Gregory asked, "Is Lady Sedgewick really that gravely ill, or is George merely overreacting?"

  Thomas shrugged. "She is awfully sick."

  "Then perhaps you'll want to stay here as well?"

  Concern etched on his face, Thomas nodded.

  * * *

  During the short drive to the cock fight, Gregory pondered the vast change that had come over George since he married Diana. It was as if a different being had taken possession of him. Why, George loved cock fights better than almost anything. He had once ridden a hundred miles to see one. Before today, Gregory would have had no compunction about wagering on the unlikelihood of George missing a cock fight because of his wife's fleeting illness.

  But when it had come to sitting useless at the bedside of his cherished wife or to seeing a cock fight, Diana had won. Hands down.

  Gregory lifted the curtain of his coach and looked out at the countryside. The sun was high in the blue sky and daffodils spread their yellow glory indiscriminately along the roadside. It was a beautiful day to be alive. Then why, Gregory asked himself, did he feel so wretchedly lonely? It wasn't just that George and Moreland had stayed behind. It was so much more. George's love for Diana had enriched his life. Filled it. That's what marriage was about.

  They were there for each other in the good times as well as the bad. He sighed. Glee's sister was adored by Thomas Moreland. Her brother cherished Diana. By God, that's what Glee deserved, too.

  Yet she had given it all up to help him secure his fortune.

  * * *

  Glee had been furious when she had read Mr. Jefferson's letter. Instead of having her diamonds delivered to her at Blankenship House, he apprised her of the fact they would be waiting for her at the Paragon Building—in his chambers—when she cared to call for them.

  If she was not so afraid that Blanks would catch her trying to send another letter to Mr. Jefferson, she would have immediately written back to him demanding they be sent to her.

  After sleeping on it for a night, Glee decided she would fetch the diamonds, after all. Only this day, she would dress extremely prim. It was one thing to dress the vixen for her beloved Blanks, but quite another to have the beastly Mr. Jefferson gawking hungrily at her!

  She had Patty bring out a black woolen gown she had worn for her father's mourning, and she dressed in it for the trip to the Paragon Building.

  Another problem was that any number of respectable people she was acquainted with also lived in the Paragon Building, and it wouldn't do at all for any of them to see her entering a bachelor's chambers. Perhaps she could merely wait at the door while a servant fetched her earrings. But that would not do, either. The longer she stood in front of Mr. Jefferson's lodgings, the more likely her chances of being discovered there.

  After careful consideration, she decided to take Patty with her. What could look more respectable? Surely a woman with an assignation with a lover would not bring along her maid.

  Glee did not care a fig what people thought of her or her reputation, but she cared dreadfully for Blanks's. First, she could not jeopardize his inheritance by flaunting their unconventional marriage. But, more than anything, she could not allow Blanks to think she loved another. Even if he did not lo
ve her, she could not bruise his pride in such a manner.

  Though he had never admitted it, she knew Blanks's sensitive emotions had suffered a lifetime of battering from the despicable Aurora. And Glee would spend the rest of her life making up to him for it.

  With Patty in tow, Glee set off by foot for the Paragon Building. She had tied her black cap to her head with yards of black lace she hoped would conceal her face from onlookers. A pity the red locks could not be completely concealed.

  They walked the several blocks to the Paragon Building and, seeing no one she knew loitering about, she mounted the steps to the building. Just inside the double front doors, she found a directory that told her Mr. Jefferson's quarters were in Number Eight.

  With her stomach turning, she began to climb the stairs to Number Eight.

  "But, Miss Glee," Patty protested, "ye can't go to a single man's establishment."

  "I know that!" Glee whispered. "That's why I've brought you along, silly."

  "What will Mr. Blankenship say if he finds out?"

  "It is my profound hope he never finds out. I'm only going to be there long enough to fetch my earrings that Mr. Jefferson most ungallantly took from me after I lost to him at whist."

  "You mean Mr. Blankenship doesn't know about the earrings?"

  Glee shook her head. "He'd just purchased them for me, and I couldn't allow him to think they meant so little to me that I could wager them in a meaningless game of cards."

  Winded, Patty held onto the bannister as they came to the second floor landing. "Mr. Blankenship himself picked them out for ye?"

  Glee nodded ruefully. "And they're ever so precious to me."

  "All right, gel, but let's hurry and be done with it."

  They approached Number Eight, and Glee timidly knocked.

  A moment later a male servant opened the door, took an appraising look at Glee, and cocked a brow.

  "I believe you have a package that belongs to me. I'm Mrs. Blankenship."

  He swung open the door. "Please come in. Mr. Jefferson's been expecting you."

  Glee and Patty entered the narrow hallway and followed the servant to a small, dark drawing room where the man instructed them to sit down.

  * * *

  In less than one hour, Gregory lost a hundred pounds at the cock fight. After saying his farewells to the Appleton brothers and the twins—all of whom also lost substantial sums of money—Gregory climbed into his carriage for the short ride back to Bath.

  Though his friends had been their usual boisterous selves this day, he had only halfheartedly joined in their merrymaking. Ever since he had left Winston Hall, he had felt deuced low. He supposed Glee and his friends were right. He had become an old stick. Glee had married him because she thought they would have such great fun. But he was turning out to be. . .Good Lord, he was turning out to be exactly like his father! The pursuits of his not-too-distant youth now seemed intolerably frivolous. Cock fights no longer held the allure they once had. Neither did gaming. Or womanizing.

  Fact is, it seemed to him Thomas Moreland and George were the happiest, most well rounded men of his acquaintance.

  As his carriage pulled up to Queen Square, Gregory saw the runner standing in front of his house. Why was the runner not watching Glee as he had been so firmly instructed to do? Gregory's chest tightened. Had something happened to her? Gregory leaped from the carriage before it came to a stop. "Where's my wife?" he demanded. The man had clear instructions to follow Glee at all times—and to never show himself at Blankenship House. Something was dreadfully wrong.

  "I came here straight away, sir," the runner said breathlessly. He stepped closer to Gregory and lowered his voice. "You said as how Mrs. Blankenship was never to go near Mr. Jefferson. . ."

  "Yes? Speak up, man!"

  "Well, she's at his house this very minute."

  Gregory issued an oath. "Come," he demanded, running to catch his carriage. "To the Paragon Building," Gregory ordered the driver.

  During the short ride to Jefferson's lodgings, the runner apprised Gregory of what he had observed during the past forty-five minutes.

  "I don't believe you have to worry about your wife being up to mischief, sir. She's got her maid with her, and. . .she's dressed in heavy mourning."

  All Gregory could think of was poor Miss Douglas and the fate that had befallen her at William Jefferson's hands. If Jefferson laid a hand on his wife, Gregory would take pleasure in killing him. Gregory's heart beat ferociously. His palms were clammy. He felt as if his very life was in danger. Poor Glee was such a babe. She did not deserve to be a pawn in Jefferson's game of vengeance.

  He pounded the top of the carriage, signalling for the coachman to drive faster.

  "You say my wife was on foot?" Gregory asked.

  The runner nodded. "And I ran all the way back to your house, sir. I wasn't there a minute when you drove up."

  "Thank God," Gregory said in a trembling voice.

  The carriage skidded to a stop in front of the Paragon Building, and Gregory leaped from it and hurried up the steps. "What number is it?" he called to the runner.

  "Number Eight. Second floor."

  Gregory shot to the stairwell and ran up the stairs. When he came to Number Eight, he did not knock. He stormed in. "Where's my wife, Jefferson?"

  Chapter 25

  Gregory ran down the hallway, checking each room for Glee. In the drawing room, he found Patty with her mouth gagged, but he didn't stop to unbind her. If she was gagged and bound, so was Glee, and he had to find her before that devil defiled Glee's innocence.

  Gregory called to the runner. "Untie my wife's maid." Then he bounded up the stairs and threw open the first door he came to. And there stood Glee, her mouth bound, her watery eyes wide with fear, as she backed into a corner to get away from Jefferson. Gregory's fury exploded so thunderously he barely registered his relief that she was still clothed.

  In a single stride he grabbed Jefferson and rammed Jefferson's head into the plastered wall. In the second it took Jefferson to recover, Gregory crashed his fist into Jefferson's face. "So help me, I'll kill you," Gregory threatened through gritted teeth.

  Jefferson lunged at Gregory, but Gregory ducked to evade the hit, and Jefferson went flying onto the top of his bed. Before he could get up, Gregory had swung his weight on top of him and proceeded to pummel the sides of his head.

  Footsteps sounded outside the room and a scuffle ensued. Gregory spun around to see the runner pounding Jefferson's man servant. The servant was no match for the runner. Soon, with the servant nursing his wounds in the corridor, the runner entered Jefferson's chamber.

  Jefferson eased himself up on his haunches like a dog. The blood on his face trickled to his blue satin bed covering.

  "Be a good man and untie my wife," Gregory ordered the runner.

  Gregory walked around the bed, away from Glee, and stood with his back to the door staring daggers at Jefferson. "I thought after the business with Miss Douglas you were completely without principle. Now I know you're without a soul. Damn you to hell, Jefferson!"

  Jefferson collapsed back on the bed. "Take her and go. You don't have to worry about calling me out. I'll leave England at once."

  The man was a coward, too. He knew he couldn't best Gregory on an even field, and he likely knew Gregory's fury was so great he would not shoot to wound, but to kill.

  Released from her bindings, Glee flew to Gregory and flung her arms around him, weeping. "I...I..just wanted to get your earrings back from him," she sobbed.

  Gregory scooped his wife into his embrace. All his anger at her melted under the sheer relief he felt at this moment.

  "Take them," Jefferson uttered, waving toward the desk. "They're in my desk."

  Gregory put Glee at some little distance from him and bent to kiss her forehead, then offered her his handkerchief.

  After she wiped her tears, she walked to the desk and found her earrings in the top drawer. She clasped them in her hand and walked to the
door, where Gregory met her before slamming the door behind them.

  By now Patty had been released of her ties and she flew—crying—into Glee's outstretched arms. "I'm so very glad Mr. Blankenship came when he did," she managed between sobs. "That man is a monster."

  Gregory turned to the runner. "See that the maid gets safely home. I wish to speak privately with my wife in the carriage. And. . ." he paused, meeting Patty's thankful gaze, "I hope we can depend upon your discretion."

  Patty nodded solemnly. "I couldn't love Miss Glee more if she were me own sister."

  Before they departed, Glee hugged Patty once more.

  In the carriage, Glee broke into sobs again. Gregory scooted closer and settled his arm around her. "It's all right, love."

  "How can you call me love when you must think me horridly wicked?"

  "You're not wicked," he said softly. "Foolish, perhaps, but never wicked."

  She buried her face into his chest. "Oh, Blanks, I'm so terribly sorry. I did love your earrings so. No gift has ever meant more. But I lost money to the vile Mr. Jefferson at whist that night at the Assembly Rooms and nothing would appease him but that he would have my earrings. He told me later the only way I could have them back would be if I kissed him."

  Now he understood Glee's peculiar actions that day he had observed her in Sydney Gardens. "The kiss I witnessed."

  She looked up at him, nodding, great tears sliding down her cheeks. "Then the beast wouldn't return them. I. . .I didn't want you to think I didn't cherish them. I was dreadfully anxious to get them back. That's why I came here today."

  "And he tried to ravish you." Gregory tightened his hold on her. "It's not your fault, sweetness. The man was only trying to get back at me because I somewhat exposed him for the vile creature he is in London. He hates me so much he wanted to wound me in the worst way."

 

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