The Price of Pleasure

by Kresley Cole

  If he worked hard over the next several years, he could build a place like Belmont Court. A place of his own. And fill it with a wife and children. Damn it, Victoria was the most unreasonable woman he'd ever met.

  When he returned to Whitestone, he avoided his family and the questions he knew they'd ask, but Amanda was not deterred.

  "How did they settle in?"

  "She and Camellia hit it off with the old earl."

  "I'm glad they're comfortable there. Nicole and I are going to go make sure they are all right, but I suppose we should give Tori time to bond with her grandfather."

  "Probably."

  "Tori certainly is a charming young woman," she said, openly gauging his reaction.

  Grant shrugged. Here it comes.

  "I know you agree. So why don't you like her more?"

  What to say to that? That he liked her to the point of madness? That he was so furious with her right now he could hardly speak? "I want a more conventional bride."

  "Conventional?" She nearly spat the word, all her politeness gone. "I really had better hopes for you, but apparently you're going to do this the hard way. Like your brother," she added. "He didn't know how to go about getting what he wanted, but at least he could see what was just before him."

  Goddamn it. He was doing the best he could with the tools he had.

  Something in his look made her suck in a breath and catch his arm just as he was turning from her. "Oh, Grant, you really don't know what to do with this. You've never been in love, have you?"

  Never.

  He wiped any expression from his face. "Love? Not in the least."

  "I'm not blind. I can see what you feel for her. I hope you won't let this lie for too long."

  He gave her a stiff bow and strode away. But over a late lunch, Nicole made sure that all talk was centered on Victoria. Grant was uncomfortable at first, but then his anger receded and talking about her ceased to grate on him. He found that telling them about her beat brooding over her alone. He described her clever contraptions on the island and related how brave she'd been on the ship.

  After the meal, the family settled in the great room in front of the fireplace. His mother and Derek read, while Nicole sat on a blanket playing with Geoffrey. She clapped his hands and feet, and he flashed his toothless smile. Finally Derek, who'd probably been trying to act as though he weren't a fool for that boy, couldn't take it any longer and went down to play with them as well.

  Grant had never seen two parents so fascinated with their child, as if they couldn't quite believe they'd created him. And they should be delighted with him. Grant didn't believe he was biased, but Geoff was just about the best baby he'd ever seen. He was inordinately proud to be his uncle. A sudden thought made him scowl. He wondered if Geoff would grow up thinking of Grant as his somber, staid uncle.

  How utterly depressing.

  Victoria had said he was predictable, but he couldn't help but think she'd passed over the words plodding and boring before settling on the less hurtful predictable. They all sounded bad to him.

  He cast about for something else to think of. Before long, the fire drew him, the flames reminding him of the island. Of what he felt for Victoria. Was it love? He'd never anticipated that for himself, never thought to enjoy something like what his brother had.

  He shook his head. Victoria had another guardian now and was no longer his responsibility. He wanted to visit with his family, play with his new nephew, but he was distracted, only half there. And everyone seemed too understanding....

  His eyes were drawn to the mantel to the intricate, spiraled shell Victoria had given his mother. Victoria had labored to keep it unbroken the entire voyage. She'd told him it was exceptional among all that she and Camellia had ever found.

  Victoria had little to remind her of the island, and yet she'd given a piece of it, of herself, away. She was generous. And kind. Lovely beyond his most fevered imaginings.

  A log crashed in the fireplace, snapping him out of his reverie. His breaths were shallow. I can't be in here any longer. "Going out," he mumbled to no one in particular, then strode to the front hall.

  He stabbed his arms into a coat and rushed out the front door--immediately colliding with his aunt Serena. She grabbed his collar, eyes wide and swollen from tears. "You've got to help me," she cried. "I need a ship!"

  Twenty-five

  That Sutherland boy is a fine young man," Belmont remarked to Tori and Cammy over a game of cards that afternoon. "A fine young man."

  Tori's fingers clenched, nearly wadding her cards like paper. All morning, she'd tried to conceal her anger over her and Grant's argument and had been having a hard time even when Grant wasn't the subject of the conversation. She didn't glance up, but knew her grandfather and Cammy were studying her quizzically. She forced herself to say, "I understand that many people have that opinion." That mistaken opinion.

  Though Grant was the finest when it came to making her miserably angry and hurt. Luckily, no one could infuriate her as he did, and now that he was out of her life...Tori frowned when her bent cards refused to be smoothed.

  "Yes, yes, he has a sterling reputation," Grandfather added, ending his statement in such a way that it sounded like a question.

  Tori was saved from answering when he suddenly realized he'd won. "Observe a master at work," he said when he laid out his winning hand. Tori couldn't help but smile.

  Cammy chuckled, but stood when Tori proposed a new game. "You'll have to play without me. I think I'll just go for a walk, stretch my legs a bit," she said. "Besides, I can't take another terrible trouncing from him." She pointed to the earl, who responded with a wily grin. Leaning down, she pecked a kiss on his forehead. "Have mercy on her," Cammy called over her shoulder as she left.

  Once they'd dealt fresh hands, her grandfather continued in a casual tone, "I had hoped that you two would hit it off a bit more." His bushy brows drew together, indicating his weak hand.

  She sighed. "Oil and water--that's what we're like. Two people couldn't be more mismatched."

  "That's a shame." He forced a short laugh. "I'd, well, I'd thought you two might marry. And live here at the Court."

  "If he wasn't obstinate and thick-skulled and incapable of laughter or feeling, that might have been a possibility."

  He scrutinized her reaction, but she wouldn't volunteer more. What to say? That she loved him beyond measure, but he didn't return the sentiment? That he wanted a marriage without love? That she'd missed out on so much that she refused to abandon the possibility of love as well?

  "Then we must start thinking of someone for you to marry. I can't stand the thought of you and Camellia not being secure."

  "He told me he didn't want the Court any longer."

  "What?" In his surprise, he lowered his hand until she could make out every card.

  "That's what he said."

  "Tori, I signed an agreement with him. It's binding." He hiked up his cards and bunched his lips at her. "Let's just hope that what he says and what he does are the same."

  She didn't want to think about that now. She wanted to think about how to let Grandfather win without him knowing she'd thrown the game. She wanted to think about Cammy's growing restlessness and what to do about it.

  Besides, she was done with Grant. His rejection had stung. She'd fought tears this morning after she'd slammed the door in his face because she now knew it was over forever. Even if he came around and begged forgiveness, declaring his love, she wouldn't take him. They'd had something special together--she knew it down to her toes--and for him to walk away?...He no longer deserved it.

  After tea, Tori left her grandfather sleeping peacefully, and walked about the manor, surveying the vacant halls and rooms. She called out, "Echo!" in the ballroom, and her voice answered. She imagined what this place had been like when her father grew up here or when her parents had stayed here for the visits her mother remembered so fondly.

  She returned to the nursery Mrs. Huckabee had show
n her and again marveled at the expanse of mullioned windows overlooking the upper court, letting in prism-cut sunlight, but even with the warm sun shining in, she shivered. The room seemed to ache for the sound of children's laughter.

  During her exploring, she found Cammy standing by a window and again was struck by how vibrant she looked. Her hair was thick and shiny, and her skin had a creamy tone to it. "Cammy, you look lovely."

  She whirled around. "Oh! You startled me."

  "I suppose it's been happening for a while, but I didn't notice until just now."

  Cammy blushed, increasing the rosy hue of her skin. "Tori, don't be ridiculous," she said, but patted her hair as if wanting to believe it was even partially true.

  Tori frowned. Her friend had been staring out the window. Tori found herself doing that on most days. Did Cammy do it for the same reason, because she longed?

  "Cammy, why do you stare out the window?"

  She answered in a light voice, "I've missed the English countryside. Why do you ask?"

  Tori didn't answer. Just searched Cammy's face.

  Her smile turned sad. "Even an old maid like me can get lonely."

  "Old maid?" Tori sputtered in disbelief. "You look all of twenty! We look like the sisters we've become."

  Cammy grinned at Tori's expression, then hugged her. "There. I feel better already. You are a good friend and sister, Tori."

  "You make it easy to be," she replied, still concerned.

  Before she could say more, Cammy changed the subject. "We should check to see if your grandfather's awake," she advised, knowing Tori had determined to spend every hour with him that she could.

  Tori reluctantly dropped the subject and nodded. They both feared he couldn't last much longer.

  "It's been days," Serena sobbed, her sausage curls bouncing with emotion. "Ian told me he had someone for me to meet on the morrow, but he never arrived. I sent a footman around to his bachelor apartments, but he couldn't find Ian. A neighbor told him they saw my boy getting knocked about." She made a wailing sound behind her lace handkerchief. "By a crimp gang!"

  Grant saw Derek trying not to laugh. And it was almost funny. For Traywick to be crimped--his spendthrift, indulged cousin to live as a common sailor. It could be argued that this was the ideal punishment for his wild ways.

  Amanda sat beside her sister, as close as possible considering Serena's jutting hoops under bright satin skirts, and patted her hand. "Serena, you must be calm."

  Grant felt like snorting. As if his high-strung, hypochondriac aunt had ever lived up to her name.

  "We'll devise a way to find him."

  "Someone's got to, and quickly! I'll have a brain spasm before this is all through."

  Grant mouthed brain spasm to Derek, and his brother coughed into a fist.

  "You know Ian! He won't last a week taking orders from someone else." Serena punctuated this with another wail.

  When all eyes turned to Grant, he exhaled slowly. He was the most logical choice to retrieve his cousin, having just spent more than a year in his close company. And he'd ignored Ian's repeated attempts to confide in him. Something had been developing, and Grant hadn't been there for him. Guilt seared his chest.

  He let out a long breath. "I actually saw him home that night because he'd, well, overimbibed. I don't know what could make him go back out in his condition. Aunt Serena, I'll go after him. They can't have gotten far in a fully cargoed ship."

  "That's true," Nicole said. Turning to Derek, she asked, "When will you two leave?"

  "I can handle this alone," Grant told her. "I'm sure Derek doesn't want to be separated from you and the baby."

  Derek looked to relax again, apparently thinking the debate was finished.

  "Ian's your cousin too, Derek. And it'll be good for you to visit with Grant after so long. Besides, it should only take you a few days to track him down."

  Derek exhaled loudly. "Aunt Serena, you have nothing to fear."

  Twenty-six

  Tori, do you regret it?"

  "Hmmm?" she murmured from her grandfather's window. Forehead against the cool glass, she looked out over the land through the misting rains that had persisted for weeks. She tried to picture it as Nicole had suggested--with flats and swells rolling to the horizon like waves on the sea. It did look like a body of water, at least. A river of flowing mud. She turned to her grandfather, who had just awakened, and smiled. "Do I regret what?"

  "Being brought back here?"

  "Of course not." She sat next to him and took his hand. His skin was cool and papery. "I am so grateful you did what you did. You never gave up on us. We'll always love you for that."

  "But there's a sadness about you, Tori, that wasn't there when you were younger," he said. "I understand about the wreck, of course. You don't know how much I hate that I wasn't able to protect you from that--"

  "That's not why I'm sad now," she interrupted, never, never wanting him to feel guilt for that. She softly admitted, "I fell in love with Grant."

  He gasped and squeezed her hand. "You love him? I was worried you were so angry with him that you wouldn't see that. Oh, this is good news, indeed."

  Surprised by his eager tone, she informed him, "He doesn't feel the same."

  He gave her an incredulous look. "Boy's mad for you," he said, then snuggled back into his pillows. Seeing him like this, she realized he'd never truly relaxed before now. "Just as I've hoped--you'll be married to Sutherland by May," he rasped happily.

  Though Tori knew it was untrue, she couldn't help giving him an affectionate smile and putting his hand to her cheek. He sighed in contentment and drifted to sleep again.

  Her grandfather's funeral was to her mother's funeral like day to night.

  She had only the two to compare. Tori remembered when they'd buried Mother, when she and Cammy could only recite simple prayers. How she wished she'd known the pastor's comforting words then. She wished she'd done better by her mother. She wondered if she'd done everything possible for her grandfather.

  He'd been so loved. Even with the continued rains, scores came to wish him farewell. And of the many villagers who had showed up in their best, only one or two managed dry eyes.

  Tori was thankful he didn't suffer in the end. When she'd realized he was fading, she'd stayed by his bed, holding his hand, hoping for some last words. But he passed from sleep into death without a whisper. As though he could finally rest.

  After the funeral, Tori returned to her room, planning to stay there for several days and cry until she didn't feel this cloying emptiness. In the short time she'd been here, she'd remembered her grandfather from her early childhood more clearly and remembered how much her father and mother had looked up to him, how both had loved him. Tori had loved him too. And now he was gone.

  She'd wager Grant would be taking control of the estate soon. There was nothing left for her here.

  The rain continued to fall, coming down in torrents, seeming to give Tori permission to lie curled up in bed, crying, feeling sorry for herself. Cammy had been so helpful, a bedrock of strength for her, but Tori didn't want to burden her further. Alone would be best.

  But after she'd spent three days taking her meals in her room and avoiding everyone, the Huckabees begged a word with her and would not be dissuaded. When Cammy told her she wanted to have a serious talk as well, Tori agreed to meet the three of them at breakfast the next day.

  "Mrs. Huckabee and myself," the steward began uncomfortably when they'd all convened around the breakfast table, "we was wondering what you ladies planned to do now."

  Before her grandfather had determined that Tori would indeed marry Sutherland, he'd become increasingly concerned about her future. She'd brushed it off, wanting only to enjoy her remaining time with him. Now Tori struggled with the idea of what she should do with her life. "I don't know. I know there isn't much money." She plucked a hot pastry from a basket Mrs. Huckabee handed to her. Cammy blushed when she took two for herself.

  "Actually
, there's no money. At the last, even the earl didn't know how bad we were, 'cause everyone agreed to shelter him. But we can help you sell the remaining furnishings and set up a nice little house in town."

  Tori dropped the bun. "Town?" She hated towns. They were so loud and cramped. "What will you do?"

  "We've got positions at an estate near Bath."

  "You won't stay on?" Cammy asked.

  Mrs. Huckabee answered, "No, our families have worked for the Dearbournes at Belmont for over a century. Without Lady Victoria or her young ones here, there won't be any Huckabees about."

  "But we won't leave till we find a place for both of you." Huckabee scratched his head. "Though we might need to be quick about it, because that creditor gets the Court in forty-five days if Sutherland doesn't claim it."

  Tori asked slowly, "You mean it's not just automatically his?"

  "No, no. Their agreement was an amendment to the earl's will. Unless Sutherland exercises the codicil within forty-five days, the will settles as it normally would, with you inheriting the estate."

  Grant often accused Tori of ignoring him. But she'd been attending every word he'd said that last afternoon. I won't come claim it. "What if he doesn't?"

  "Then you'd have one day after that to pay the creditor's notes or he'd claim it from you."

  Her brows drew together. What if Grant really did give it up? Her grandfather had loved this place. He'd told her he loved it with his soul. At the time she'd listened to his words, she'd been struck only by the remarkable sacrifice he'd made for his family. Now she wanted to know why he loved it. Why it would've broken her father to lose it. And why her mother talked about the peace she found here. Could this run-down estate be her destiny? Was that why she had been brought this far?

  There was one way to find out. She shot up from the table, then marched toward the doorway, calling over her shoulder, "Be back soon." Hastily, she donned her cloak. When she opened the door to head for the stables, her eyes hurt from the shock of sunlight after so many days inside. Blinking, adjusting, she finally opened them; they widened at the change in the landscape. Her breath shuddered out.

  Green. Everything is a startling green. "Oh," she breathed as she twirled around to take in the hills carpeted in new grass, at the flowers bravely sprouting between rocks. So this was what Nicole meant. She'd wondered. When the snow melted, they'd been left with rain and runnels of mud, and Tori had been consistently unimpressed. Now...Breathtaking.