Too Wicked to Woo: Chronicles of a Bluestocking

by Tammy Andresen

  Penny’s lip curled as bile filled her stomach. She might very well be falling into the same trap. Sure Preston was attentive now, but how would he be after the paperwork was signed and the house, her dowry, became his?

  She closed her eyes. She didn’t mean to paint him as the man her father was. Though Preston’s own past was cause for concern. But she needed to use her mind and not her heart to make this decision.

  “Any better?” he asked, leaning close again.

  She attempted a smile. “Much. Thank you.” Inside, however, her stomach continued to churn with uncertainty. She could not end up in the same situation as her mother.

  Wes was aware that something in Penny’s demeanor had changed. He shouldn’t have kissed her. He’d pushed too fast too soon.

  Not that he’d done so intentionally. She looked so beautiful staring up at him like that. But it wasn’t just her beauty that had him captivated. She had a quiet strength about her as though she were wise beyond her years. She didn’t giggle and flirt the way so many women did. Rather Penny assessed and weighed a man’s character, the implications of her decisions.

  He was a rash person by nature, which was how he managed to land himself in such trouble in the first place. Hell, it was how he’d proposed to her. He liked that she thought her decisions through, he needed more common sense in his life.

  “I apologize if my kiss was too forward,” he whispered so that Dryden couldn’t hear. They were far enough ahead that he and Penny had some measure of privacy.

  She waved in dismissal. “Do not worry.” Her breath caught. “It was a lovely kiss.”

  “But?” he asked, hearing the hesitation between the words.

  She shook her head. “I want to make a…rational decision.”

  Ah, that made sense. He gave her waist a small squeeze. “You’re smart to do so.”

  She moved away from him so that his hand slipped from her waist and then she threaded her hand around his elbow. “Tell me about your day today. The barrister? The accountant?”

  He rubbed his neck with his free hand. “The accountant is reviewing my books. I’ll confess that numbers were never my strong suit. He’s going to see if my old…” He hesitated. How awful did this admission make him sound? “If my old accountant embezzled from me.”

  She gave a little gasp. “That is terrible.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll tell you honestly, I should have done this much sooner. I hid from my problems rather than face them. I gave up after—” He stopped. He’d dwelled enough on his failures. “I wasn’t trained to be an earl. My father was a landowner, though, and working the land...that’s what I understand.” He stopped again to face her, needing her to understand. “I was good at farming. Still am. And I was a successful captain in the army. I don’t mind work, in fact, I believe that it’s the answer to a great many of my problems.”

  She gave a small nod, but her body softened against his. “I’m actually quite good at accounting. I would help my mother. I can review some of the numbers with you and give you a lesson if you’d like.”

  Warmth washed through him at her generous offer. She was exactly who he needed, he recognized that. And it likely explained why he felt such affection for her. A marriage built on mutual need and appreciation would be perfect. Anything more, however, was dangerous. “A lesson?”

  She leaned forward. “Adding the columns is one thing. Although that takes quite a bit of skill when you consider you must also compare the numbers to the manager’s accounts. But carrying those columns over from page to page can be quite challenging.

  A bit of shame made his insides pitch. He was trying to impress this woman and she would see one of his greatest weaknesses. His worst, of course, had been his drinking, but he’d never allow her to see that. Not ever. Though it had only been a few months since he’d stopped, he was determined never to touch the stuff again. A little chill ran down his spine at the thought of failing.

  Even more reason to learn the books. Each success made him move further from the man who’d ruined his own life. If he was going to be a success, he’d need to swallow his pride. Something he should have done years ago. “I would appreciate that very much. I will try to be an apt student.”

  Dryden and his wife stopped and looked back at them. Clearly he’d dallied too long with Penny. He turned forward again and started them down the path.

  “Shall we meet tomorrow?” she asked as they hurried to catch up.

  “Perfect.” He answered, though his insides twisted at the thought. She’d see him vulnerable tomorrow. Would she be repulsed by what she learned?

  Chapter Six

  Penny stood over Preston’s shoulder as he stared down at the books spread out before him. Mary sat knitting in the corner, or she was pretending to. The girl might have fallen asleep. They’d been at work for hours. Even she wanted to give up, but Preston refused.

  He was making progress. Slow, halting progress, but steps forward nonetheless. Not once had he shown frustration or laziness, rather he displayed an iron determination to succeed. Pride swelled in her chest and an admiration she hadn’t thought possible.

  Her father had never worked this hard at anything, unless one considered the gaming table work.

  What was more, they were reviewing the manager’s accounts and comparing them to the ledgers. As they worked, he explained many facets of farming. “See here where he says he bought two pack horses for plowing. Paid a good price for them. They can cost twice as much.”

  That was when Penny first noticed a discrepancy. “How much does he say that he paid?”

  “Fifteen pounds per horse,” he answered, looking up at her.

  “On the sixteenth of July?” she asked, biting her lip.

  “Yes. Why?” He sat up straighter.

  “The accountant put the same sale in for thirty pounds per horse.” She pointed to the line in the ledger.

  He let out a guttural sound from deep in his throat. “That rat.”

  She didn’t mean to touch him, but her hand came to his shoulder. She wanted to comfort him in the face of this news but as she touched his rippling muscles, heat flushed her skin. “I’m sorry.”

  He gave his head a shake. “Don’t be. But would you look at other transactions? Is this a mistake or a pattern?”

  He covered her hand with his, and tingles spread up her arm and down her side. The man’s touch unsettled her and made it difficult to concentrate on anything. “Of course,” she said, her voice cracking. She slipped her fingers out from under his and began to assess the ledgers.

  He stood, now following her finger as she ran it along first one book and then the other. Licking her lips, she kept her eyes focused on the books but she could feel him just behind her. Her heart quickened as her breathing grew more rapid. “Here.” She pointed. “And here.”

  He made a low sound, a rumble of dissatisfaction. Rather than frighten her, however, it thrummed through her body, tightening the cords of her muscles. “I’d like to deal with Southing the way a soldier would. Swiftly and decisively.”

  She turned to look back at him and realized just how close he was. She stared into his chest, just inches from her face. Tipping her head back, she met his gaze with a raised brow. While the power he exuded in this moment was intoxicating, she forced herself to think. “I’m sure I don’t know what you refer to.”

  He gave a small grin. “Apologies.”

  She drew in a steadying breath. “So what will you do, since you’re no longer a soldier?”

  “Fortunately for me, I fired him three years ago. If I have evidence against him, I can bring up charges, but a barrister will help my cause.”

  “And a barrister requires money.” She said, her mouth pursing.

  He brought his hand to her shoulder and she drew in a soft gasp. He didn’t notice or didn’t acknowledge the gesture. “That is the least of my financial concerns. The most pressing is having the money to farm my own land again.”

  She nodded as s
he scooted backward and to the side, out of his reach. “I understand completely.” And she did. He had powerful motivators to succeed and the work ethic to do it. “And I think we make a good team.”

  He stepped closer once again. “I agree.”

  His voice was soft but still deep and low and it vibrated through her. She took another step back. She wanted to make a rational decision here, which required distance. “Which is why I’ve decided to accept your offer, if it still stands.”

  “It does,” Wes answered, deep satisfaction rumbling through his body as he moved closer once again. She took another step back, her eyes darting first to his left and then his right. She was like a cornered animal as she wrung her hands together.

  Odd, since she’d been calm and confident all morning as they worked. Her maid let out a decided snore. Their guard was asleep. Good.

  She licked her lips again, and his insides tightened. She had good reason to be worried. The attraction between them was an unexpected complication. When he’d proposed, he’d thought her lovely, but he hadn’t anticipated this level of desire, which only grew stronger with every interaction.

  “We’ll marry in London?” she asked, taking another small step backwards.

  Something inside Wes shifted. For so long, he’d been out of control, circumstances dictating his life. First giving up alcohol, then proposing, and now finding evidence of Southing’s thievery, he was systematically taking charge of his life again. He felt like the captain he’d been in the army. A man confident in his ability to make decisions and then carrying them out. “Of course, and then travel to your home. We’ll do what we can with the interior so that we’re ready to begin planting in the spring. I’ll do much of the labor myself so that we have a maximum amount of profits at the end of the season. This will give me the money I need to plant my own land.”

  She gave a small nod, her hands twisting. “Will you plant your lands yourself too?”

  “Much of my land is rented to tenants. But I’ll need to go north to oversee the transition from my cousin to myself.”

  “And where will I go?” she asked, her large hazel eyes meeting his.

  He stopped. This was a business transaction. His past and his fears of slipping back into that life prohibited him from giving more. But without emotion, she was free to live her life as she chose without him. The plan made sense, though a part of him objected at the idea she wouldn’t be next to him. “Where would you want to go?”

  She licked her lips. “I am assuming we’d have an overseer for my property?”

  “In all likelihood, yes.” He had to confess, he admired the way her mind worked. That was how he’d been as a captain. The movement of people had been so clear to him. Business was always far less obvious.

  “And we’ll split the profits this first season. What about after?”

  His chest expanded as he stared at her. All good questions. “You’ve a good mind for this sort of thing. You know that?”

  She relaxed her hands. “Thank you.”

  He scratched his head. “We should draw up a contract. Dryden can oversee the details. He has a stake in both of us, so he’ll help us decide on fair percentages. We’ll need to have a barrister as well.” He looked back at the books. “I’ll see Dryden’s. I discussed the theft with him already, so I can present him with the evidence and ask about a contract.”

  She cleared her throat. “That’s a good idea.” Her eyes focused on a spot somewhere over his shoulder. “Let’s begin by making a list of what we each most need from the marriage.”

  Well, he hadn’t wanted an emotional match. Still didn’t. But this might very well be the most nonromantic exercise ever to begin a relationship. The only sign to the contrary was the erratic thudding of his pulse, rushing in his ears.

  They would split all proceeds from both properties, as long as he was alive, down the middle. As his holdings were entailed, they would revert to the next heir.

  Just the thought of making an heir made his loins tighten. Her house would be kept as a dowry for any daughter they might have. In addition, they’d remain together until such time as the land turned a profit. Then they were free to lead their own lives. They’d spend a month together per year, reviewing all their business holdings.

  “Well,” he said looking down at their list. “This was all terribly practical.”

  She stepped next to him, a stray hair brushing his arm. He wanted to capture the silky piece between his fingers and rub the strand to test its texture. “Very responsible of us and well thought out. With any luck, we’ll be wildly successful.”

  He agreed. So why was there a nervous pit in his stomach?

  Chapter Seven

  Two weeks later, Penny stood outside the church staring at her new husband as they waited for the carriage that would take them to her home in Kent. Her three friends stood just on her other side. They wore matching looks of uncertainty that they attempted to cover with broad smiles.

  They had each expressed their reservations multiple times over the past two weeks, the latest round just this morning as she’d prepared for the wedding.

  Their reasons were sensible enough. “You don’t need him,” Annabelle had whispered as Mary had carefully pinned her hair. “You have us. We’ll care for you.”

  Chloe had squeezed her hand. “It’s a risk. What if he begins drinking again? He’s not like Fin who’s been without a drink in years. He may not be ready for the responsibilities of marriage.”

  Caroline, however, had delivered the worst blow. “I know a bit about rakes. They can seem charming and sincere at first, Penny. But take care. Eventually, a man’s true colors shine through.”

  Penny had cringed. She hoped the man she’d seen slaving over his ledgers was the true Wesley Preston. If not, she’d made the wrong choice and would pay the price. But she’d committed now, and she’d see the deed through. “Thank you for looking out for me,” she’d told her friends. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve appreciated it. But it’s time I made my own way.” She didn’t know how to tell them that she wanted a life she’d built herself. One where she was an equal. While her friends had never made her feel less than them, she hated to rely on their charity.

  “Think of it this way,” she’d told Chloe. “If he is a rake, I’ll have all sorts of excellent material for your book.”

  Chloe had laughed and then hugged her friend. “I’d rather you be safe here with us.” Then Chloe bit her lip. “I pushed you into marriage with that book.”

  Penny shook her head. “No. Getting married was my doing. And Preston’s too.”

  Her friends had gone silent and not one of them had objected during the ceremony. Now they shifted as she prepared to climb into the carriage.

  “Write to us.” Chloe bit her lip as her eyes shimmered.

  “I will.” Penny gave them all a bright smile despite the roiling in her stomach. She was leaving the safety of her friends and branching out with a man she hardly knew. She drew in a deep breath, her forced smile pulling at her cheeks.

  Caroline leaned in. “You can always come home.” Then she wrapped her arms about Penny and gave her a squeeze.

  Penny swallowed down a lump and then straightened away squaring her shoulders. “Annie,” she said, looking to Annabelle. “I’ll keep up my studies.”

  Annabelle gave her a gentle smile and handed her a book. “I found this for you. It’s a book on farming techniques.” Then she glanced to Preston. “May we come visit soon?”

  He gave a nod. “Come stay at the harvest. We can either celebrate together or formulate a new plan.”

  That made Penny relax, and she looked up at her new husband in gratitude. Somehow knowing her friends would visit and hearing him say if they failed at this, they’d come up with a new plan made her feel much better.

  They climbed into the carriage, his hand at her waist. She arranged her skirts as they sat, looking out the window as her friends waved goodbye.

  Dryden met her eye. “You
’re ready for this.”

  It wasn’t a question and she took it to mean that he had confidence in her. She was glad someone did.

  “You are, you know.” Preston said from across the carriage.

  She turned to her husband, her insides flopping about at the reality of the word, husband. “Thank you, Lord Preston.”

  One of his eyebrows quirked. “Lady Preston, I think in the confines of our private conveyance, we might use our given names. Mine is Wesley, though my friends call me, Wes.”

  Wes suited him. Though she’d guess everything suited him. He lounged on the seat across from her, looking both relaxed and powerful. “Penny,” she breathed.

  “I know,” he answered leaning forward and reaching a hand across the carriage as the wheels rumbled down the street. Tentatively, she placed her hand in his, his warmth seeping through her glove. “I like the name a great deal, Penny.”

  His voice skittered down her spine. “Will we make it to Kent today?”

  He frowned. “Likely not. We’ve gotten a late start. We’ll have to find an inn along the way. I’m afraid it won’t be the nicest establishment.”

  Penny waved her hand. He needn’t worry about that. She was quite accustomed to living sparsely. They were fortunate they hadn’t had to ride in the mail coach. “I’m sure wherever we stay will be lovely.”

  She couldn’t even focus on her feelings about returning to her childhood home, which were mixed at best. Instead, all she could think about was her wedding night.

  She understood the mechanics of the act, but to actually experience the deed and with a man as handsome as Wes.… Her palms began to sweat despite the cool damp air.

  “Are you all right?” Wes asked as he leaned back in his seat again.

  “Fine,” she said, looking out the window again as they left London and started down a quieter road. “I’m a bit nervous I guess.”

  “About what?” he asked. “I mean, which issue is bothering you most at the moment? The uncertainty of our future? The state of the house? Our lack of funds and need to borrow even this carriage from Dryden?”