by Sharon Green
"He also sounds an unlikely associate for my step-father," Rianne mused, sounding completely perplexed. "My stepfather would never have associated with anyone who worked for a living, which is probably why I don't remember this Tremar ever having been invited out. I wonder what the real connection between them was."
"He may have loaned Harding money," Bryan suggested. "I think I'll have to meet this important man from the Bank of England. You'll need a detailed description of him, and I want to know who his closest associates are."
"Why not make a stab at getting all that tonight?" Jack asked, looking back and forth between them curiously. "I went by the Bank just past lunchtime today, thinking I'd toddle in and see what there was to see, but the man wasn't in. He'd taken the rest of the day off, his clerk told me, probably to rest up for tonight, he added. The young man isn't very fond of our Mr. Tremar, and didn't mind talking about him."
"Whatever you paid for that conversation, it was worth it," Bryan said in approval. "Where is it that he's supposed to be tonight?"
"Alicia de Verre is just back, and she's throwing a bash," Jack told him. "The comptesse swears Paris is causing everyone to die of boredom, so she's come back here for some fun. She's having the usual crowd in, and somehow Tremar got himself an invitation. He's been after one forever, his clerk said, and was ecstatic that he's finally managed it. He thinks he's finally on the way to being accepted."
"By that crowd?" Bryan asked with a snort. "Not unless he can also manage to change his parentage. And why he would want to bother is beyond me. Too many of them spend most of their time sitting around comparing the value of the last things they bought - and making assignations with each others' wives."
"According to his clerk, he should have no trouble joining in on the first part of that," Jack said with a grin. "Tremar's filthy rich, and has been for years. He spent a while working for the Bank as a clerk himself, handling scheduling and some books and the like, and then one day he'd apparently had enough. He had a word with a member or two of the Board, and they suddenly discovered he was eligible for promotion. You know how these things work."
"Yes, give the job to the one who can pay the most for it," Bryan said, nodding. "That way you keep it out of the hands of the common - even if they happen to be twice as competent. If they took those people's clerks away, their business would come to a grinding halt. You'd think they would have learned by now - Well, never mind. One must first be capable of learning. So, if Tremar had all that much money, why didn't he buy a post to begin with?"
"Possibly he wanted to see the business from the other side of the Sterling," Jack ventured with a grin. "Whatever it was, his new post must have repaid his investment many times over. And he enjoys the petty power he wields. He's an absolute tyrant when it comes to dealing with clients -unless they happen to have money and position. Then he bows and scrapes and all but licks their - " He broke off as he glanced at Rianne, then he finished smoothly, "- boots."
"And he'll be at Alicia's tonight," Bryan said with a swallowed smile, tapping his glass with one finger. "Jack, I want you to get me an invitation, but don't get one for yourself. There are still three other names on that list, and you've already gotten too close to Tremar. If someone should notice you're also looking into the others - Well, it could be dangerous."
"Nonsense, man, no one takes me seriously," Jack countered with satisfaction. "Which is why they lose so much to me when we game. I'll be fine, so don't you worry about it for a moment, but do consider yourself. All the ladies will be crushed when they find out you've married, and will certainly weep all over you. When you return here soggy to the shoes, you'll have a good deal of explaining to do."
"He won't if I'm there to see it for myself," Rianne interrupted Jack's foolishness with a smile. "Which I will be. Seeing someone face-to-face is much better than getting a description of them, much more certain. And we do want to be certain, don't we."
Her comment wasn't a question, and those green eyes never left Bryan's face even when she sipped at her tea. He knew she was right about needing to be there, but hated the idea of exposing her to such danger. And to a crowd like Alicia's. Rianne Lockwood was a country girl, with no idea about what went on in a city like London. Whatever else happened, the experience would change her…
"We'll discuss that a little later," he finally temporized, not about to get into a battle of wills with her in front of Jack. "Right now I need that invitation and, if possible, a start on at least one of the other three names. We won't have a lot of time to settle this, Jack, especially if they find out it's me you're acting for."
"How could they possibly find that out?" Jack asked with a snort after finishing his whisky. "As far as anyone knows, we're simply passing acquaintances. Well, I'd better get cracking. If this turns out to finish it, whatever will I do with myself afterward? Die of boredom, I imagine. Mrs. Machlin, I look forward to our next meeting with great anticipation."
After glancing at Bryan he bent over Rianne's hand with one of those full-attention smiles, then bowed himself out like a devoted servant. Jack always had to be joking, or he wasn't being himself. But he did have a definite knack for finding things out, and also seemed to enjoy it. A pity there would be scandal if he ever went so far as to take an actual job…
"You really seemed to be worried about him," the girl said, drawing Bryan out of distraction. "Haven't we just about agreed that the men he's checking on are only being used?"
"Yes, we decided on that, but it is still only a guess," Bryan answered, enjoying her presence in this room that was so entirely his. "Jack is discreet and clever, but he finds it impossible to imagine personal danger. In a place where others would stop for at least one look around, he breezes in and starts talking. That tactic disarms most people, but I'm afraid it won't work on the man we're after."
"No," the girl agreed, her expression distant, her tea forgotten. "I suppose you're right. I have the feeling that he's a man who listens closely to people. I remember him saying…" Rianne faltered at the memory, then took a deep breath and continued. "He said people like to believe they're keeping their secrets from everyone else, but if you listen properly at the right time you learn exactly what you want to know. With me he had learned I was almost too stubborn to survive."
"We'll have to show the arrogant bastard that he was wrong," Bryan said at once, getting up quickly to circle the desk to her side. Again her face was pale and her hands trembled, and her voice had lowered to that terrible thready whisper. "You're not alone any longer, little one, and the next time you meet him I'll be right there beside you."
"And I'm also not a child anymore," she said, obviously fighting to pull out of it despite the way she clung to his hand. "He'll never have me at that much of a disadvantage again, not ever. The next time I'll win."
"The next time hell," Bryan said, crouching down while still holding her hand. "You won the last time, and don't think he doesn't know it. He tried to break you the way he did with everyone else, but he couldn't even get you to bend. He must have been frantic for days, wondering if you really would keep quiet. You were stronger than him then, and you're stronger than him now. With both of us together, he doesn't stand a chance."
"We'll have to make sure of that," she said, some of her old spark coming back. "He won't be stupid enough to let me live a second time. And since we'll be doing all these things together, I take it you've decided to let me accompany you tonight. Or will you insist that I stay here, all alone and well within his reach if he's as close as we think?"
By then she had slipped her hand out of his, and those green eyes were looking at him with their usual steadiness. He was in charge, so she'd left the decision to him - right after guaranteeing that he had no choice at all. Bryan momentarily considered strangling her, then gave up with a growl.
"Yes, I've decided to let you come with me tonight," he said as he straightened. "I did consider leaving you here, but I can't take the chance of you facing our enemy alone. I
expect to get some part of him, which won't happen if you get to him first. You might want to bathe and rest until dinnertime - or until I have a few moments free. Since I'm your husband and in charge, I may decide to let you help me relax."
"Even though I'm that dangerous?" she asked, trying for innocence despite the amusement in her eyes. "Aren't you afraid I might take horrible advantage of you? You've forced yourself to your duty until now, but why take unnecessary risks?"
"Obviously I'm addicted to danger," he answered, pulling her out of the chair and into his arms. "I expect it to be the death of me, but until then I won't show a moment of fear. Two moments, possibly, but not one."
And then he kissed her. Remembering how annoyed she'd been with him in the coach he expected her to resist, but instead she responded instantly. The breath of a murmur reached him as the softness of her lips met his, nothing like the passion of the night before, but in some ways better. There was no abandon to blame for the way she added her own sweetness to the kiss, the way her body all but flowed against his. She was probably doing no more than living up to her agreement to be a full wife to him, but for the moment he could pretend her response was real. He held the wife he loved in his arms and kissed her, and she, returning his love, also returned his kiss. It was only a dream, but what a dream!
As with most good things in life, the kiss finally had to end. When he released her she seemed confused, but he didn't understand why she would be. She'd behaved just the way she'd agreed to, the way a woman of honor who had given her word would want to.
"I'll have Harris show you to your part of our suite," he said, walking to the bell-pull. "It should please you that these rooms have windows. But if you decide you miss the country and want to go back to it, don't bother using them. I'll be more than happy to have a coach brought to the front door."
"Thank you anyway, but I'll have no need of a coach," she responded, her pretty face flushed. "We made a deal, and since I've been upholding my end, I expect you to do the same. Any other action on your part would be dishonorable, and we've already established that that isn't what you are."
Bryan hadn't needed - or wanted - confirmation that she'd only been upholding her end of the bargain, and hearing it anyway just brought the pain he'd known it would. Mentally he groped around, trying to think of some lucid response, but was saved the effort. A knock came at the study door, and then Harris entered in his usual noiseless way.
"Harris, Mrs. Machlin is ready to see her rooms now," Bryan said as he watched the girl gather up her possessions. "And please tell Cook that we'll be going out tonight, so we'll appreciate an early dinner."
"Certainly, Mr. Machlin," the precise old man responded, and then he turned to the girl with a bow. "If you'll follow me, Mrs. Machlin."
The girl nodded regally and then left the room, giving Bryan nothing in the way of further attention. Honorable or not, he interested her less than the dirt beneath her feet. Once the door was closed behind her, Bryan shook his head.
"I wonder what it would be like to have her be that eager to find me," he muttered. "I'd do anything in the world to see it, but that's the whole problem. I can't figure out what would make something like that happen. You can't do what you can't think of to do."
Those statements did too good a job of showing how confused and muddy his thoughts were, so he went back to his desk chair to check what correspondence had come in while he was gone. Later he would spend some more thought on his wife, later, when he might have more luck handling the thoughts…
Rianne followed Harris to the rooms that were hers, then let him show her around. She had a very large and formal sitting room, all ivory and gold and green brocade, obviously arranged for intimate receptions. Elegant was much too mild a word, and the chairs even looked comfortable. Beyond the windows was a large balcony, a perfect companion to the sitting room for those times it became too crowded. Two separate withdrawing rooms stood beyond the room to the right of the windows, and to the left there was a small alcove where a footman could be posted. Beyond the alcove were the double doors that led to her bedchamber.
"All of the girls worked together to get your trunks unpacked, Mrs. Machlin," Harris said with a gesture toward one of the huge wardrobes. "If you find you'd rather have things arranged differently, simply ring for one of the girls. If you require anything else, two rings will fetch me, one ring one of the girls. Would you care for anything at the moment?"
"At the moment, no," she answered with a smile. "I'd like to rest for a short while, and then I'll want a bath. When I'm ready for it I'll ring. Harris, please convey my thanks to the - girls for a truly excellent job. I was picturing the unpacking taking longer than the packing, and frankly I was dreading the time. You and your staff have rescued me from being in the middle of a nightmare of rushing around."
"It was our pleasure, madam," the old retainer replied with a bow that was deliberately more than perfunctory. "On behalf of the entire staff, allow me to formally welcome you to your new home."
She thanked him again, hopefully with all the warmth she should have been feeling, then watched him leave. Once the doors were closed she put her gloves, hat, and reticule on a side table, removed her jacket, then threw herself down in a chair.
"My new home," she muttered, looking around at the bedchamber. This one was blue and white, many shades of blue offset by pure white. All of the furniture was carved of some beautifully-grained wood that had been painted white, the drapes were blue brocade, the curtains white lawn. The bed linen was white, the quilts were blue, and the flounced curtains contained both colors. On the four- poster itself was the only contrasting color in the room: silken throw pillows in a rich wine-red. Here, too, the windows led to a balcony, and one of them had been opened to let in the late-afternoon air.
"All right, enough," Rianne growled at herself. "You can inspect all the pretty furnishings later. Right now you have more important things to concentrate on. Just what did you think you were doing?"
Even being asked the question by her own mind bothered Rianne, sending her back into the sea of confusion she hadn't yet climbed out of. Bryan Machlin had kissed her, and she'd responded so quickly it had literally made her dizzy. Rather than continuing to be angry with him for what he'd said in the coach, she'd forgotten all about anger as soon as his arms were around her. She'd never acted like that before, and had no idea why it had happened this time. Maybe she was just tired from the long coach ride, or maybe it had something to do with not being treated like a large porcelain doll…
"Yes, maybe that's it." She grasped at the straw hopefully. "Until now only Angus and Cam treated me like another human being, including fights when we were younger, and then sword practice. Now he comes along and brings me something other than genteel enjoyment, so my mind is confusing him with Angus and Cam. The only problem is, he doesn't care about me as much as they do."
Not that she really wished he would. He'd been insufferable in the coach that afternoon, telling her she would want to go shopping tomorrow without telling her what he thought she needed. How was she supposed to know what she was missing? She'd never been to London before, and he had a house here! It wasn't as though she had female friends, who would have told her what she needed to know…
"He's a fool, and I shouldn't even be talking to him," she muttered, looking down at the twisting fingers in her lap. "But instead of ignoring him, I can't wait until he's ready to 'relax.' Please, God, don't let him start meaning something to me. I'll still have to leave as soon as it's all over, and I'm so tired of being the only one who cares. My mother and father…"
She'd been very young when her father had died, and it had devastated her that he'd "gone away" without even saying good-bye. It hadn't mattered that it was heaven he'd gone to; he still hadn't said good-bye, and she'd loved him so very much. And then her mother… They'd been closer for a while, before her mother slowly began to withdraw from all contact with life. Rianne would have given her own life for her mother or
even gone happily with her, but instead she and her love had been left behind.
And now Angus and Cam were delighted with the new life they'd found. She'd seen this morning how happy they were, to know they'd be going to the colonies with ready-made jobs. Men who were smart and good workers got ahead fast in Machlin's companies, earning enough money to stake them to anything they cared to do afterward. In five years or less they could have the beginnings of their own estate, running prime stock rather than sub-adequate scrubs. They'd laughed as everything they'd been told came bubbling out…
And she'd smiled and told them how happy she was for them, and then had turned away to find the coach that was waiting. Their lives had moved beyond hers, and she hadn't had the heart to tell them her marriage would soon be over. They thought she had a man who cared for her, when what she really had was a business partner. Once their mutual business was done…
She would have to walk away. A thin stream of tears trickled down Rianne's cheeks, but she didn't bother to brush them away. Whether she wanted to or not she would still have to go, so what was the sense in wishing she could stay? She'd never gotten anything she'd wished for, and prayers had been equally as useless. When the time came for her to leave, there would be no one to wave good-bye … or miss her … or wish she could have stayed…
Rianne leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes again, so tired it was almost beyond bearing. Most of the time when she was about to fall asleep, she prayed she would not wake up again. It still seemed like an excellent idea, but wasn't likely to happen. Even God didn't love her enough to want her in His House…
Chapter Thirteen