The Bartered Bridegroom

by Teresa DesJardien

  “Lord Benjamin!” Papa cried. “Sir Uriah here was just now looking for you. Seems you’re seldom at your chambers. Constantly conveying my daughter here and about, as Sir Uriah himself has said. He would speak with you, my lord.”

  Benjamin stood, a puzzled frown forming on his face, and crossed to nod as Sir Uriah Sembley was introduced over a bow. “If you wish it, Sir Albert, I would be willing to speak privately with Sir Uriah,” Benjamin conceded.

  It was not even fifteen minutes later—Katherine had been prepared to wait much longer to learn why Sir Uriah had been seeking Benjamin—when another man was announced.

  “Mr. Dahl, to see Sir Albert,” said the butler, who only then saw the room did not host Sir Albert. “Er, are you home to callers, Miss Oakes?”

  Katherine nodded, even though the name was unfamiliar to her. “Mr. Dahl?” she said, standing to greet the unknown gentleman. Langley departed, murmuring he would seek Sir Albert, leaving the parlor door open as he went.

  The stranger had freckles, the kind brought out by exposure to the sun, and was dressed well if not with flash.

  “Pardon my manners, but are you the Katherine Oakes who is betrothed to Lord Benjamin Whitbury?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  She watched with interest as his brow cleared. He strode further into the room and bowed to her. “Lord Benjamin is a fine, fine fellow, as you must know. I wish you every happiness with him! I hope I may count on being invited to the wedding, although I’ve no right to ask, of course.”

  “No right... ? Mr. Dahl, was it?”

  “Oh!” he cried in dawning comprehension. “Yes, I am

  Stephen Dahl. Lord Benjamin must never have mentioned me. I cannot say I blame him.”

  “You knew him in the navy?” Katherine suggested.

  Mr. Dahl ducked his head for a moment, then looked up from under his brows, guiltily. “I did know him, ma’am. I was also a midshipman on the same ship as he.”

  She hated repeating everything he said, so instead this time she merely stared at him in incomprehension.

  “Ma’am, I was the midshipman who was selling the naval stores to smugglers.” At her continued stare, he added with some fluster, “Lord Benjamin took the blame in my place for smuggling goods. But 1 did the crime. You see, I have four sisters and a widowed mother, Miss Oakes, and I could not lose my position—or so I told myself at the time. I was a fool and, worse, a coward. I allowed Lord Benjamin to accept the blame that was all mine. He never sold nor smuggled anything, miss, and so I’ve sworn this very day to the Admiralty. I’ve told all to Sir Uriah—”

  “Sir Uriah Sembley!” Katherine finished for him, beginning to grasp what she was being told. Benjamin had not done the deed for which he had lost his rank in the navy? Could it be true? What had he said when she’d demanded to know if he’d done such a wicked thing: “I must have done, to have admitted to it.” Not a lie, but also not the whole truth ....

  Benjamin returned to the parlor just then, excitement coursing over his features. He opened his mouth to speak to Katherine, but came to an abrupt halt as he saw Mr. Dahl. “Stephen!” he cried.

  Mr. Dahl hung his head once more, and took a step back, looking as if he expected a blow. “I know I must be the last man you care to see, Lord Benjamin.” He looked up then. “But I’ve come to set things right, at long last.”

  He scarcely managed to get the last words out before Benjamin had crossed the room to clasp one of Dahl’s hands in a hearty grip, his other hand squeezing the man’s shoulder in warm greeting.

  “It is good to see you, Stephen,” Benjamin said.

  “That cannot be true,” Mr. Dahl said, but he seemed pleased around the guilty edges lingering in his manner.

  “How are your sisters, and your mother?”

  “Very well, thanks to you.” Mr. Dahl’s expression crumbled, and for several moments he was choked by emotion.

  He managed to clear his throat and start anew. “I did it again, Lord Benjamin. I took unclaimed stores out of the ship. For the money, rot me! And I was almost caught again this time, and ... and I could not live with myself anymore, my lord. I went to the captain, and I confessed it all. How you covered for me, that first time, because of my sisters and mother, who would have starved without me sending home my pay.”

  “Now, Stephen,” Benjamin said quietly, with a quick glance toward Katherine. “You can tell me all this privately, if you like.”

  “No, I owe you at least the truth, and anyone else who’ll listen.” It was Mr. Dahl’s turn to glance toward Katherine. “Your betrothed didn’t do anything wrong, miss. He took my punish-' ment, saying as he’d taken the stuff and sold it for profit, only he hadn’t done anything he oughtn’t. That’s God’s own truth! As I told you already, miss, I was sent here to London to tell the Admiralty too—” He cut himself off short, his eyes misting for a moment before he swallowed down his upset.

  “I’m quit of the navy,” he went on. “They’ll not have me any longer, of course—but I’m grateful they’ve declined to court- martial me! They’ll put it in the news sheets that Lord Benjamin was falsely accused, and the ‘proper man’ punished. I don’t deserve such mercy, my name being protected too, but they said as how that was best all the way ’round.”

  The former midshipman gave Benjamin a sheepish glance. “They’re trying to keep things as quiet as possible. They’re afraid Lord Benjamin might care to take the matter to court.” “Not if they clear my name,” Benjamin said at once.

  Mr. Dahl stopped and swallowed, gathering new words if not his composure. “Only, they cannot give Lord Benjamin his position back like I asked, as he told a lie, even though it was to cover for a friend and all! But what they could do was clear his name and find him another position, you see.”

  “I do see,” Katherine said, only half surprised to learn the truth, for she knew it was the truth. A rising glee filled her heart, for in some secret comer of that organ she’d already concluded something like this must have happened. She had claimed Benjamin “honorable” in her mind, and this was simply more proof of that fact. She glanced at Benjamin, whose light eyes glittered with satisfaction. What a burden it must have been for him, to have all the world thinking him a liar and a thief.

  “So I’ve done what I could, and the Admiralty has, too. There’s a gentleman—”

  “Sir Uriah?”

  “Exactly, miss! Sir Uriah said he’d help, by helping Lord Benjamin—

  Benjamin interrupted by lifting his hand. “Let me be the one with that news,” he requested.

  Mr. Dahl subsided with a nod, and Benjamin approached Katherine, a glow of eagerness in his manner.

  “Katherine,” he said, an excited strain under his voice, “this is a grand day.”

  His gratification left no room for her to argue otherwise; she knew her day must evolve into a rather dismal one, for this day she must playact at disliking Benjamin to the point of ending their public association ... but as to Benjamin’s concerns, this had to be a fine day indeed, now his name was to be cleared.

  “First, I am already feeling flush because word arrived from the trainer that Fallen Angel won the Helmman earlier this week, and yesterday she won the Tremayne.” He half turned to glance at Mr. Dahl. “And now today I have a friend returned to me. A friend who has brought with him redemption—and, better yet, employment! Sir Uriah has offered me a post as acting importation registrar for his line of ships. I start tomorrow. I will oversee everything his corporation imports. Spices, sugar, cotton, Portuguese port, Spanish sherry. I will even occasionally be required to travel abroad. I will be on the sea again, which I have missed more than I thought I would.” The devil danced in his gaze once more, this time with delight.

  “Oh, Benjamin, I am so pleased for you,” Katherine said, letting her pleasure shine from her eyes. She wanted to touch him, to take his hands in hers, but instead she folded her own hands into her skirts.

  He laughed. “I know it is but a glorified
clerk’s position, that many will sniff at my need to earn my way, but at least now I know I can stay in London! I can begin to make plans. Not least of which will be wagering more on Fallen Angel at the very next opportunity!”

  Benjamin reached for her arms, sliding his hands down to gather hers in his own. “You were utterly right about that horse. You said she would be a winner,” he told her.

  He looked down at her hands, then up again, the eager light dimmed a little but still burning there. He spoke softly, so softly that Katherine thought Mr. Dahl probably could not hear, even though the man openly leaned forward with a cocked ear. “I used to . .. well, doubt that you could make a go of your plan to breed horses, to build a stud full of winning horses, but I do not doubt it anymore. You have a gift, Katherine, and I was an idiot to think anything else. It is my hope that one day I can be one of the first buyers to purchase a winner from your stables.”

  Her heart slipped into her throat for a moment, not from the idea of a sale already made, but that the sale would be to Benjamin, that she would see him again one day. “It may take years to beget a winner.” She felt she must offer the caution.

  “Or not. Time will tell.” He made a small, apologetic motion. “My one regret is that I must keep Fallen Angel near, you understand, if I am to see her run. Now I am employed, I will not have leisure time in which to journey to the country. I wish I could send Fallen Angel’s keeping to you, but my business will be here in the City, near the docks of course.”

  “Of course,” she said, letting go of the small hope she had harbored that he would not mind having his horse run mostly in Kent, would come to call upon her there, at Katherine’s stable, perhaps often.

  “Could we give my friend tea?” he asked quietly.

  “Of course,” Katherine repeated. She glanced toward Mr. Dahl, and thought that Benjamin was generous to many people, for even though Dahl had returned, had taken the blame at last, had taken steps to aid the man he had wronged, Katherine was not so sure she could have been so forgiving to Mr. Dahl as to call him “friend” so quickly.

  Benjamin released her hand and turned back to his former shipmate. “We were just about to enjoy some refreshments, if you would care to—”

  “You are very kind, Lord Benjamin, and I thank you, but I cannot stay.” The man smiled, his guilty sheepishness finally giving away to a brighter humor. “I’ve a new position myself! A friend of the family has seen fit to employ me as a runner. I go everywhere in the City, to Guildhall, and Lloyd’s, and the Staplers, delivering messages or whatever is needed. ’Tis not the sea, but near as exciting, and half again the pay!”

  “I am glad for you,” Benjamin said.

  “It is more than I deserve,” Mr. Dahl said, and for a moment his chin trembled. “Am I right to think you have accepted my most humble apology, Lord Benjamin? I never should have let—”

  “I have accepted it, Dahl—and let that be enough of all that,” Benjamin said firmly.

  Despite her reservations, Katherine smiled at Mr. Dahl’s sigh of contentment, and watched as Benjamin slapped him heartily on the back before escorting Mr. Dahl out.

  When Benjamin returned, he was smiling. Katherine wanted to tell him it came as little surprise to her that his “disgrace” had been the opposite in truth, that she had come to suspect he was not capable of dishonor ... but he would not allow it by dint of spreading his hands and spreading his smile into his usual devil’s grin.

  “I am exonerated!” he declared. “I am employed. I own a winning horse. Life is lavish with her bounty!”

  “Now all you need for contentment is to be quit of our betrothal,” Katherine said the obvious, but she said it to the intricately inlaid cigarillo box on the small table near her, not quite able to look Benjamin in the eye when she said the words. But her presence in his life was the only stumbling block keeping him from all he could want.

  “And all you need for contentment is that your cottage on Meyerley Creek be declared ready for you,” he rejoined.

  “Hmmm,” Katherine said, a faintly agreeing sound.

  Just then Langley entered with a puzzled expression. “Is Mr. Cullman not here?”

  “Cullman?” Benjamin repeated.

  The butler nodded. “He arrived right after Mr. Dahl. I asked him to wait one moment while I set the footman to finding Sir Albert, but when I turned around, he was gone. I.. . guess he left?”

  “But then why come at all in the first place?” Benjamin questioned aloud.

  “Well, he is not here,” Langley concluded. “And Mr. Dahl has gone as well?”

  “He has,” Katherine said.

  Langley uttered the tiniest of exasperated sighs, gave a preoccupied bow, and exited.

  Katherine glanced at Benjamin. “Perhaps Mr. Cullman saw the household was occupied and did not wish to intrude?” she ventured a guess.

  Benjamin waved the question away. “I would far rather talk about your Meyerley place, now I’ve gone to see it myself,” he went on in good humor and unfeigned enthusiasm.

  “Do tell,” Katherine encouraged him as she indicated they ought to take a seat.

  “I have to admit it is well suited to the purpose, with its upper and lower fields, which will let one grow while the other is grazed. As you know, I am unable to do aught with the upper field, of course, but if the lower field is any indication, it will do well. There’s hay already showing green, and the pond is well placed for watering the horses easily. The two fields are visible from the cottage atop the hill, which I think would appeal to horse owners, who will then know their investments are being closely observed.”

  ‘That is my hope.”

  “Do you have plans? When you will invest in a breeder pair, or two? Equipment? Training? Hands to do the labor? You have a development scheme in mind?”

  “I do. I have it all written down—in one of my journals, of course.”

  He grinned. “Of course. Show your plans to me.”

  It was flattering, his attention to the copious notes she had made, the speculations she had thought out on paper, almost as flattering as his declaration that were he the owner, he would do little else different. “You must keep your steward, you realize. Your stablehands will not obey the orders of a woman. You will have to be a little aloof, play the eccentric Grand Dame.”

  She smiled. “I know. I cannot play the part of feeble female who never leaves her home and hopes that money will spring from wishes, but I think I might manage to seem eccentric and haughty.”

  “Haughty? You?” he said on a grin.

  She took a handful of rolled cigarillos from the box on the nearby table and threw them at him. He ducked, but winced when several bounced off his head.

  “Now show me Fallen Angel’s entries in your racing notes,” he said, never losing his grin. “I want to know how much to risk on the outlandish hope that she will win her third race in a row.” “Remember, you asked to see my many notes,” she warned, moving to the shelf across the room that housed her racing journals. She really ought to ask him to leave... but then again, why? What harm did it do for him to linger here awhile? After tonight they would have no reason to ever again linger in each other’s company ... so she opted to show him what he asked to see, to have him stay, extend their fragile friendship, just a little longer.

  Chapter 17

  It was not even a quarter hour later before Katherine had three journals open on the floor, surrounded by a profusion of the last few days’ news sheets folded open to the pages with the racing results. And it was not long before Benjamin had joined Katherine, who was also sprawled on the floor of the front parlor, the better to read the many entries aloud to one another.

  “Fancy’s Feast, out of Fancy-Me-Darling and Poet’s Feast,” Benjamin quoted as Katherine jotted in one of her journals, “took the fifth race, trailed by Gorham, and Maid of Magnus.” He looked up. “Do I recall correctly that Gorham took another second, at Ascot several weeks ago?”

  Katherine leafed bac
k through her pages. “Mmm . . . Ascot, on the first of May. Yes. Yes, he did. He will be one to watch.” She looked up, a zealous light shining in her eyes. “I could wish his owner would want him stabled and trained at Meyerley Creek.”

  “Ask,” Benjamin advised. “The worst the man could say is no.”

  “I will ask,” Katherine confirmed, and Benjamin believed her. She might be the eccentric that Society dubbed her to be, but she knew what the world thought of her and never tried to hide behind a facade.

  He laid aside the news sheet, and watched as Katherine jotted some entries in her journals. She probably had no idea that the tip of her tongue showed in the comer of her mouth, and he was certain she would have no idea how fetching she looked in her white gown accented with blue. The hem was a little the worse for having swept through the debris in Gideon’s town house, but the combination of white and blue worked as a perfect foil to her red curls.

  She looked delicate and pretty and feminine—but Benjamin knew her expertise was as certain as that any male might demonstrate. Still, with her tongue held like that. Benjamin had to suppress a chortle, although he never thought to laugh at the lady. His was more the kind of amusement that stemmed from finding that an unadorned box is filled with rare treasure, a kind of elemental delight at the discovery of the unexpected.

  But Katherine had always been a case of the “unexpected”: when visiting her horse one last time, disguised as a lad: when recording the races with a passion most women dedicated to learning an instrument or their French. She had told Benjamin bow to wager, so that he had profited. Unlike every other female of his acquaintance. Katherine wanted a home of her own. marriage or no. Not to mention her outlandish desire to govern her own business! She flaunted or ignored all that most women held most dear, yet never looked back with regret, never tried to hide or change her nature.