Fairchild Regency Romance

by Jaima Fixsen

  “I like women you know,” Edwards said, behind him.

  “So do I!” Jasper said, spinning round, blushing so hotly he feared smoke would curl from his ears. Honestly if he didn’t get this done soon, his head would explode—not exactly the fireworks Miss Edwards had in mind, but still newsworthy. Jasper drew a ragged breath and paced out the room.

  “It’s Saltash,” he said. “He’s threatened your sister and she refuses to capitulate. But she doesn’t want to harm you, so she’s decided to go back to London and she’s making me be her mistress—I mean, she’s making me make her my mistress. Damn it—”

  “Slow down,” Edwards said. “For your own sake you want to explain this better.” He looked ready to chew rocks.

  “It’s not my fault!” Jasper spluttered. “She said if I wouldn’t do it she’d take my friend Protheroe. Not only would he not understand the situation, he’d really tup her!”

  A lightning strike of anger blazed on Jack’s face. Jasper took a step back—there were cruder terms, but it hadn’t been the best choice of words. “You have my promise already,” Jasper said, raising placating hands. “And I swear again to you that I won’t touch her. Saints alive, man, if I intended to would I be telling you this?”

  “I don’t know,” Edwards said grimly. “Madness is a symptom of pox. It can come from inbreeding, too.”

  “For the last time I don’t have pox! And we’ve never had strangeness in our family!” Not that kind at least.

  “Indeed? This seems strange enough to me. You’re telling me that, at my sister’s request, you’ll take her on as your mistress but not sleep with her?”

  Jasper checked himself, his retort balanced on the edge of his tongue. It was a ludicrous scheme. “I can’t think of any other way to make her mind me,” Jasper said. “But by all means if you think she’ll listen to you it will save me a world of trouble. I don’t want a mistress, least of all your sister—but I do like women,” he finished.

  Edwards let out a breath through his teeth. It was an opening and Jasper took it. “She just needs another actor to play out her little drama. Can’t be you because Saltash knows and he’ll say it’s incest and the gossip rags will gobble that up like ices on a summer day. Good luck doctoring the good people of Suffolk if that gets out. And better me than some other fellow. In public I’ll play her game, but otherwise I’ll put her in the charge of a very strict chaperone.” He just had to find one. For both their sakes. After all, it was tempting. He’d never had a woman, but he’d fondled a few and was pretty certain Jack wouldn’t like him trying that either.

  “But how will it end?” Edwards asked.

  “I don’t know.” Jasper threw up his hands. “How do these affairs end? The point is they always do. She’ll face down Saltash, or not, and in all likelihood send me packing once she’s done with me. So long as I make sure she comes to no real harm and no one besides us connects Gemma Holyrood to Laura Edwards, there’s no difficulty and no scandal attached to you.” He finished, half expecting to hear a thunderclap at such a blatant invitation to fate. So many things could go wrong. They’d all have to think on their feet. And another thing…now that he knew their real names—“Perhaps I should address you properly, Comte?”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “I prefer doctor. I earned that title.”

  “As you wish,” Jasper shrugged. “But just because you don’t fancy yours doesn’t mean I’m giving up mine.” For now he was a paltry Honorable, but even when he became Lord Fairchild after his father, Jasper doubted he’d develop radical sympathies. Just as well Edwards disdained his title. Jasper was at enough disadvantage without being reminded that Edwards outranked him. “Does Tom know you’re a count?”

  “No. Please keep it that way,” Jack said.

  Lord, these two had a lot of secrets.

  “I’d hoped she’d quit the stage. I wish she would, and not merely because of Saltash,” Edwards said. “It would be easier.”

  Jasper looked at him. “I hope you’re joking.” It was a ludicrous plan likely to toss them all in the soup, but when you were losing a fight you used whatever weapons came to hand. “That man’s actions were unforgivable. I would never ask her to submit to him.” This wasn’t a game. It was a duel and she’d asked him to stand second. He’d never held back when his friends’ honor was at stake and he wouldn’t now just because Miss Edwards was peculiar about the way she kept hers.

  Edwards looked up, the tired lines on his face accentuated by the pale scar. “What do you want? My permission? I don’t like it, Rushford.”

  Jasper didn’t either but kept it to himself. “Your sister doesn’t bother with niceties like permission overmuch. I’m telling you because you deserve to know the truth. I won’t ruin her. I’ll boil alive first.”

  It sounded suitably dramatic. Unfortunately Jasper suspected this might end that way too. He sighed. Two hundred pounds was not worth this amount of headache.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hurdles

  She’d gotten her way, but Laura couldn’t consider Rushford’s agreement an unqualified success. The amount of arm-twisting required was mortifying. He was so reluctant you’d think she was crude and illiterate with sagging bosoms and rotting teeth. But it was done and he’d agreed. Now she needed to come up with a story for Jack.

  She wandered the house looking for him without success, finally finding him the second time she looked into his chamber.

  “What’s the matter?” She stopped on the threshold, alarmed by the haggard look on his face.

  “Why don’t you tell me?” he said.

  “I don’t think you should take the house,” Laura said. “I’m not ready for this, Jack. I need to go back to London. If you live in the rooms over the surgery, you won’t need me to keep house for you—”

  “I closed with the solicitor yesterday,” Jack said. “The house is ours.” He watched her, waiting for her to speak. She had nothing. “But you won’t come.” His eyes fell to his hands.

  “I can’t—”

  “Won’t,” he cut in. “What are you trying to do, Laura? All along I believed you were acting for my sake—”

  “I was!”

  “You aren’t now. Tell me, why are you going back to London?”

  “I’m not finished there yet.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Nearly.”

  He waited, but she kept her lips shut.

  “Suppose I forbid it?” he said.

  Again she didn’t answer.

  “You’d best go then.” He turned away. Laura felt the floor slide beneath her.

  “Jack—”

  He shut his eyes. “Nothing you tell me will make this any better. Just once I wish you’d let me decide something. You didn’t ask me about the stage—”

  “You’d have said no. You wouldn’t be a doctor now if I’d listened.” His face and the set of his shoulders terrified her. He’d stopped walking away from her, but it felt like he’d already left the room.

  “I’m grateful for my career. But what’s the point of it if I can’t do a brother’s job and take care of you? I’ve lost you. Better if I’d kept working in that shop.”

  Laura cringed.

  “Tell me the truth,” Jack said.

  “I’m not finished yet,” Laura said. “It’s a point of honor between me and Saltash.”

  He grunted. “That’s all? Saltash doesn’t matter. We do. Your name matters to me.”

  “Which one?” Laura demanded. “You’ll do anything for Laura Edwards, but I’m not her, Jack. If I’m anyone at all I’m Gemma Holyrood. Don’t take that away from me.” She could fight Saltash, but it killed her to fight Jack. He wheeled away and braced his hands against the window, staring down at the front lawn.

  “I don’t care which name you use, Laura. It’s you I care about. Unlike you I’ve learned that winning some battles will lose you the war. He’s not worth it.”

  She was crying—something she hated, especially in front of Jack
. Stammering, she bludgeoned the scalding drops from her cheeks. “You think I’m—why shouldn’t I feel the same when you try and decide for me? You don’t get to do that, Jack.”

  “I never have. Not like you’ve done for me.”

  “I haven’t!” she spat back. “I decided to do what was best for both of us. What I wanted to do because you needed me to do it. I wasn’t going to be a—a useless weight holding you back. And I wasn’t going to be held back either. Not then and not now and certainly not by that bastard Saltash!”

  “Stop hating him,” Jack said. “It makes you unreasonable.”

  “I might if you weren’t so forgiving,” Laura snapped. “He did nothing for us, Jack, and now he thinks he can take away what we have.”

  He stiffened. “I don’t know how it’s escaped your notice, but I’m a grown man, Laura. Your older brother. It would be nice to be treated as such, even if only once. I’d take care of Saltash, but you won’t let me.”

  Laura swallowed.

  “When do you go?” Jack asked.

  “Tomorrow. Mr. Rushford is taking me.”

  Jack raised his eyebrows at her, but she gave nothing more. “How kind of him,” Jack said. “I trust he’ll drive safely.”

  *****

  Eyes burning and lips compressed, Laura returned to her room to pack, hating herself. Telling Jack more was impossible—he’d never permit it, and she wasn’t going to let that stop her. Besides, Jack would learn the rest from the papers soon enough. She’d face it then. This way at least she’d avoid risking a scene in front of the Bagshots who still didn’t know her for Gemma Holyrood. Better for her and Jack and Jasper too if they could keep that secret.

  Besides she had no words for it. It wasn’t a comfortable bargain, this arrangement with Jasper, even explaining it to herself. Every time she thought of him her brain skidded to a stop. But she needed a lover to wield against Saltash and Jasper Rushford was the likeliest candidate—and that was all, she told herself squashing the maggoty guilt stirring in her middle.

  Very well, it wasn’t all, and she should know better than to lie to herself. Nothing wrong with the truth. Since she was finally at the point in her career where she was trading on her virtue, why shouldn’t she have the man of her choice? If she was going to have a lover it should be someone she liked. He was the one who’d pursued her, after all—no need to be embarrassed by her attachment to him. Except he’d dropped her and she’d been uprooting those warm feelings for nearly two weeks now. He’d been baffled by her proposal, almost annoyed and certainly not amorous. Shouldn’t he be at least a little in love with her? Feelings, at least her own, didn’t change that fast. At the very least he should be pleased to have her at last.

  She’d surprised him, that was all. And perhaps it wasn’t so unusual, beginning this way for this kind of arrangement. There was a fair bit of business to clear away first. Laura wished she and Rushford had gotten a chance to settle some particulars. Ignorance was very unsettling.

  Frowning, Laura rerolled a pair of silk stockings and put them in a muslin bag to fit in her trunk. This would be easier to do if she’d some experience mistressing or some answers—like where she was going to live. And when he thought the mistressing would start…

  Good heavens, she wasn’t a girl to take fright at the thought. Rushford had all the appearance of a competent lover. Anyone would be who’d brought indulgence to such heights of perfection. That posed another worry—she wasn’t as sophisticated as she let on. She mustn’t be gauche or reveal her inexperience. He’d be repulsed by that she was sure. Maybe she’d have time to speak to her actress friend, Sarah. Maman wouldn’t have liked this, but she wouldn’t have kept back her practical advice.

  Laura pressed her hands against her skirts. She hadn’t done this before, so it was natural to feel nervous, but entirely unnecessary. Jasper wasn’t a novice. Follow his lead, she told herself as she stowed her brown half-boots in the trunk. She repeated the advice again as she tidied away the brushes on her dressing table and a third time when she called for a servant to cord up her trunk.

  Just follow his lead, she thought, summoned by the gong for dinner. Good advice probably, but it didn’t help. Jasper wasn’t there.

  “Where is he?” Sophy said, repeating Laura’s question. “Tom?”

  Tom was succinct but unhelpful. “Gone out.”

  By noon the next day Laura was fuming. She’d told the Bagshots she was leaving, but if Jasper didn’t arrive soon she would have to relent and tell Tom that she would, after all, be grateful for the use of his carriage.

  “I wish you’d give up the idea of leaving,” Sophy said with a reproachful glance at Laura.

  “I may have to.” Laura frowned through the window at the empty drive.

  “Not such a bad thing,” Jack put in. He wasn’t speaking to her, but his scowl had faded the longer she delayed. Now he’d relented enough to address the room at large.

  Curse Rushford. She’d get to London if she had to walk and find herself a different lover there. Protheroe or Willbank maybe. Someone who kept his appointments on time.

  “We’ll miss you,” Sophy said. Her eyes darted back and forth between Laura and Jack.

  “He’s here,” Laura said, spotting movement at the end of the drive. Jasper rode on horseback behind a large traveling chaise. She’d expected the curricle.

  Sophy came to the window. “No—oh. It is him. How strange.” Sophy looked again at Laura. “This is all very strange.”

  “A friend requested my help—” Laura pulled out her threadbare excuse again.

  “Yes, you told me,” Sophy said, unconvinced. For one who’d been confined to bed not long ago she made for the door with amazing speed. Laura caught up with her on the stairs, but outside Sophy swept past her into her brother’s outstretched arms.

  “Jasper this is quite provoking,” she said. “I don’t like you taking away Miss Edwards.”

  “She mentioned she had to return to London,” Jasper said. “And I have business there of my own.”

  “Business,” Sophy huffed. “What kind of business?”

  “An actress,” he said. “If you must know.”

  “Jasper!” She threw a worried glance to see if Laura had overheard. Laura pretended to be absorbed in the details of stowing her luggage—it was useful too, for quashing the sudden desire to strangle him. “You musn’t—”

  “Say such things?” Jasper interrupted.

  “If you left actresses alone there would be nothing objectionable to say,” Sophy muttered.

  “Yes, but think how dull I’d be. Miss Edwards, may I help you get your things stowed?”

  “Nearly finished,” she told him.

  “Excellent. We’ll be on our way. It’s a bit cumbersome to travel in this overdone fashion, but I should have you to London before seven o’clock.”

  “Thank you, sir. It’s very good of you to take me. I fear you’ve gone to some trouble…” She didn’t feel them, but that was no reason to abandon the niceties.

  “Not at all,” he lied grandly, surveying the cavalcade beside them: an elegant chaise drawn by four horses with mounted postillions and two more following behind.

  “Does your mama know you are using her carriage?” Sophy asked.

  “No, but I’m sure she won’t object too loudly. I wouldn’t wish to subject Miss Edwards to any impropriety and I didn’t feel it was quite the thing to drive her all the way to London in my curricle.”

  Laura tried not to choke.

  “I’m glad we needn’t give up all hope for you,” Sophy said. “But Georgiana will draw and quarter you if you damage it.” She looked at him sideways. “She and Father don’t seem to mind each other so much anymore.”

  “It won’t last,” Jasper said. “Just because you and Tom are head over ears for each other doesn’t mean everyone else must be.” He turned back to the chaise, his frown vanishing as a stout, sour-faced woman climbed out of it. “Miss Edwards this is Betty Burt. She’ll
attend you.” He turned back to his sister. “You see Sophy, I’ve thought of all the niceties.”

  A maid? Why had he brought her a maid? This one looked ominous. Laura doubted she had ever worn a smile.

  Sophy lifted her face so Jasper could kiss her. That duty completed, Jasper made his goodbyes. “My best to Tom and his mother. And you can give a kiss from me to that squaller of yours. Write me once she’s gotten better to look at.” Dodging Sophy’s swift punch, he took Laura’s hand and helped her into the chaise, interrupting her hollow-voiced thanks to her hostess.

  “Not at all.” Sophy waved Laura’s words away. “I ought to thank you. If you get a chance today, smack him for me?”

  “I will,” Laura promised.

  “Shall we go then?” Jasper asked as Betty took the seat beside her. Without waiting for a response, he signaled the postillions and they were off.

  They hadn’t gone far before Laura was wishing for the curricle. She’d had no chance to speak to him since yesterday and every minute he seemed more of an enigma. Her irritation over his absence at dinner and his late arrival today got lost in a tangle of other emotions. She wanted it to be like before, the two of them crowded on the high seat as he raced around corners. They would tease and laugh and fling quotes at each other and she wouldn’t wonder like she did now what he thought of her. Today’s silent, decorous procession unnerved her and try as she might she could pry no conversation from Betty, who answered questions dutifully with a minimum of words. When Laura did spy Jasper riding alongside, he smiled mockingly and tipped his hat, then gave his horse the spurs.

  She was so full of questions. Where had he been last night and what did he think she would do with a maid like Betty and how could he speak like that in front of his sister? Alone with him in the curricle she’d have gotten answers—and roasted him soundly. She needed reassurance and a good laugh. Solitude wasn’t good for her. It made her brood. She’d hardly slept last night, troubled with doubts, and now she was afraid they’d never get back the friendly flirting that had come so easily before. If only she hadn’t been so hasty.