by Geneva Lee
He seemed to sense my hesitation. “If he wanted to sleep with you, would that be a problem? You aren’t a virgin, are you?”
“No,” I said quickly, hoping he didn’t spot the lie. The reality was that I didn’t know if I could sleep with a complete stranger in exchange for money, even ten million pounds, but I wasn’t ready to say no to his proposal yet, either.
There was no way around it. The money would change my life. It would change almost anyone’s life. I couldn’t believe I was actually sitting here considering selling myself—selling my virginity—to some rich Londoner so some rich heiress could sip cocktails on a beach. But did I really have any other choice? Was I willing to say no and continue to scrape by, not making enough to live on and keeping my head down in a pub in the middle of nowhere? Still, I couldn’t bring myself to say yes.
“Why are you doing it?” I asked him. That’s what I needed to understand.
“I’m sorry?”
“The arranged marriage,” I told him. “Why bother?”
“It is in the best interest of Kerrigan,” he explained. “My own title won’t pass to her.”
“Because she’s a girl?” I never understood how that little caveat had continued to exist amongst most of the aristocracy. Someone should write the king and tell him it was the twenty-first century.
“That would be the case under most circumstances. But as I’m only a Baron, my title isn’t hereditary,” he said. “A union between her and Spencer Byrd will ensure that she continues to rise in the London circles.”
“Is that what she wants?”
There was a moment’s pause as this hit him. It was clear he’d never considered the question.
“Of course it is,” he said in a low voice, fury hiding in it as if he was offended that I might understand his daughter better than he did. “Why wouldn’t she? She spent her whole life in this world. She must know how important it is to our, I mean, her future.”
I suspected his interests were not as altruistic as he tried to make them out to be, especially after that little slip-up. But on the surface, I couldn’t fault a father for wanting the best for his child. I just wasn’t sure that marrying her in exchange for a title and fortune would make her happy in the long run.
“Can I think about it?” I asked him.
“Think about it?” He blinked as if he heard me wrong. “You need to think about an offer of ten million pounds?”
But I didn’t budge. “I need to think about it. Is that a problem?”
“No. Of course, not.” The strain in his voice said otherwise. “You have twenty-four hours.”
I nodded. Surely, I didn’t need more time than that to consider. “And if I say yes? Should I pack my bags?”
“That won’t be necessary. You’ll need to look the part as soon as you arrive in London.”
I read between the lines of what he was saying. Nothing I owned from my well-worn plum-pink handbag to my underpants would help me pass as Kerrigan Belmond. “I understand.”
Mr. Belmond stood from his seat and slipped a card from his pocket. I was beginning to wonder what else he had hiding in there. “When you’ve made a decision, please call me. I will remain in the area in the hopes of hearing from you.”
I showed him to the door and said goodbye. As I closed it behind him, I studied the business card. It was printed on heavy, linen cardstock. Tod Belmond was printed in an elegant script. Under his name was his phone number and email address. I turned it over to find a coat of arms emblazoned with Pertinacia, Patria Et Rex on the back. I should look up what it meant. Maybe it would give me some insight into the Belmonds and whether I should say yes or no. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts I didn’t hear Eliza enter the living room, not until she interrupted my thoughts and answered for me. “You’d be crazy to say no. Kate, you can’t seriously be thinking about saying no.”
Chapter Five
I nearly jumped out of my skin, dropping the card in the process as I shrieked, “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry,” she said, sounding not at all apologetic. “Ok, let’s back up a step and deal with the most important decision? Do we drink all the wine? Or something harder? I think we need a drink.”
“It’s nine in the morning,” I told her as I bent to pick up Belmond’s card from the floor.
“I think when you’re propositioned for ten million pounds, alcohol is called for, regardless of the time of day.” She picked up a few bottles off the table until she found one that still had some liquid sloshing around. She screwed off the cap and took a swig before passing it to me.
I took it and dropped onto the couch beside her. “What am I going to do?”
“Tell me everything,” she said. “I only heard the ten million pounds part.”
I filled her in on Kerrigan’s father’s strange proposal. Eliza didn’t say anything as I went over the specifics. When I finally stopped, she frowned. “And?”
“And what?” I asked, feeling as confused as ever.
“That’s all you know?” she said with exasperation. “He just wants you to pretend to be his daughter for a year, date some rich guy who’s going to be a Duke or something, and in the end pay you ten million pounds. What am I missing? Why are you hesitating? There must be something wrong with the guy she’s supposed to marry.”
She’d put into words all the thoughts tumbling around my own scattered brain with a clarity I envied. Right now, I probably couldn’t remember what was up and what was down.
“I was wondering the same thing,” I said grimly, considering her last point. There must have been a reason the real Kerrigan ran away, and it had to come down to the arranged marriage.
“Clearly, it’s time to stalk him,” Eliza said. She bounced up from the sofa and ran into her bedroom, returning with her mobile. Her thumbs were already tapping out his name on the screen. “Let’s see… Byrd with a Y, right? That must be his grandfather. Here he is—oh wow!”
“What? How bad is it?” I asked anxiously, reaching to grab the phone.
“I mean…” She passed it to me and waited for me to take a look. “Do you think I could pass for Kerrigan? Because I have no qualms about being paid ten million pounds to pretend to be engaged to that. In fact, I might pay them to let me.”
It wasn’t hard to see what she was talking about. I’d expected something else entirely. Tod Belmond had been clear that Spencer was about my age, so I knew he wouldn’t be some disgusting, old guy about to kick the bucket, but I hadn’t expected him to be…well, sexy. I scrolled through pictures of him from the search engine, ignoring the captions as I saw glimpses of the man Kerrigan was meant to marry. He had a strong straight jawline that was angular and powerful. In most photos, it sported a slight stubble that seemed to skirt the line between clean-shaven and a closely cropped beard. It was impossible to see the color of his eyes in most photos, particularly due to the dark lashes framing them. He always seemed to be cast in shadow or slightly turned from the camera, but there was no denying that he was handsome. Even in the photographs, he exuded a sort of primal masculinity that suggested he knew exactly how wealthy and privileged he truly was, and that he planned to enjoy everything that privilege afforded him.
I stopped on a photo of him on a beach, coming out of the waves, water rippling down his golden, muscled chest, and my mouth watered. Eliza peeked over to look at the screen and gasped.
“Now you’ve got to say yes,” she said. “You cannot say no to that.”
“It’s not that simple,” I said, tossing her phone back to her. It was too tempting to consider Belmond’s proposal with Spencer’s gorgeous face staring back at me. “I mean, am I really going to just waste a year of my life pretending to be some rich bitch?”
“Do you have better plans?” Eliza asked with a snort. “I mean, by all means, stay in Bexby, drink crap wine from Tesco, and get evicted with me in a few months when we can’t pay rent.”
“That’s another thing,” I cried, latching on to t
he excuse she’d given me. “I’m your flatmate. I can’t just leave —”
“Yes, you can,” Eliza said in a firm voice that left no room for me to continue down that path. “I know we were joking before, but now I’m being serious. You have to say yes. You can’t walk away from that kind of money.”
“But he expects me to… you know…”
Her eyes widened, glinting with suppressed laughter. “Is that what you are worried about?”
“I’ve never done it before,” I confessed.
“Trust me, you could do worse than giving your virginity to someone like Spencer Byrd.” She sighed. “Much, much worse.”
“But how could I go through with it?” I asked.
“It will be easy, darling.” She looked at his photo on her mobile again. “Just close your eyes and think of England.”
Chapter Six
“Are you sure?” Eliza asked me for what must have been the hundredth time.
I shrugged my small duffel higher onto my shoulder and nodded. “Weren’t you the one who wanted me to do this?”
“I don’t want you to feel forced,” Eliza said as we waited outside our building for the cab that had been arranged to drive me into London. Mr. Belmond had seen to all the arrangements as soon as I called him with my answer. “You’d be crazy to turn down ten million quid, but…”
“I’m crazy for thinking I can pull it off,” I said, voicing the concern I knew was on both our minds. She had a point. I couldn’t exactly say no to the offer, but that didn’t mean I was prepared to fake being an heiress for an entire year. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“I can’t believe you just said that!” Eliza shook her head, looking terrified at the question. “Let’s see. You could say the wrong thing. You could offend someone. They could find out. You—”
“I get it,” I interrupted her before she talked me out of getting in the car. “I didn’t expect you to actually come up with a list.” She’d clearly been putting some thought into this. Still, I had considered all of those things myself, and I’d come up with a solution. I would keep my head down and keep my mouth shut. How much trouble could I get into if I stayed quiet most of the time?
“So, have you thought more about… you know?” Eliza arched an eyebrow suggestively and made a gesture with her hands.
“What?” Trying to decipher her meaning.
“You know…”
“I don’t,” I said with confusion.
“About sleeping with Spencer.” She dropped her voice to a low whisper, so no one passing us on the street would overhear.
“Oh. That,” I said flatly. “Nope.” That was a lie. I hadn’t thought of anything else. The truth was that I was less afraid of messing this up, or saying the wrong thing—or even being found out—than I was at the prospect of going to bed with a man I’d never met. “Am I a terrible person for doing this?”
“People sleep with people for money all the time,” she said, waving off my concern.
“Yeah,” I said with a hollow laugh that seemed to echo in my chest. “They’re called prostitutes.”
“And trophy wives and gold diggers,” she giggled.
“You’re not helping.” But I couldn’t help laughing with her. It was so utterly absurd to be in this situation. Only a few days ago I was worried about making my half of the rent, and now I was off to London to live in the lap of luxury for a year. I kept waiting to wake up from this insane dream I was having and discover I’d fallen and hit my head.
“I need to get to the pub,” Eliza said, checking her watch. “Unless you want me to wait with you.”
I did want her to wait, but I understood that Ron was expecting her. Given that he had found himself down a waitress, I couldn’t keep her here without making his life harder. Eliza was pulling double duty until they could straighten things out at the pub. “No, you go. I feel terrible you have to cover for me.”
“You’d cover for me if I had a chance at ten million pounds,” she said, and I didn’t disagree. Friends did not stand in the way of success. They helped you clear a path to it. Eliza had done just that. “Just buy me a tiara or something when you get your money.”
“Done,” I promised her. “And he said there will be a stipend, so I’ll send rent.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said automatically, shooting me a tight smile. We both knew she meant it, even if it wasn’t true. She did need me to help out, and I would. I couldn’t just leave her behind without a second thought. Eliza lurched forward and gave me an awkward hug, whispering in my ear, “Call me and let me know you’re okay.”
“As soon as I get there.”
“You’re doing the right thing,” she said, pulling away, her eyes shining like she might cry. “Even if it feels crazy.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, echoing her earlier question.
“Life isn’t worth living if you don’t do something crazy now and then.” She smiled brightly at me as if to drive the point home. “You’ve got this.”
“I’ll call you tonight,” I called after her as she started down the block toward the Hare & Hound. It was strange to watch her walk away. She’d only been part of my life for a few months, but I couldn’t help thinking as she disappeared around the corner that my old life was vanishing, too. It already felt like it was slipping away. Almost like I’d never existed. I hadn’t exactly put a dent in the world. That was changing. I might not be Kerrigan Belmond, but in a year’s time, I would have more money than I could even fathom. Considering that most of the time there was a negative symbol in front of my bank account balance, it was hard to imagine what it would be like on the other side of this arrangement. I could buy a house. I could travel. I could shop. I’d never really thought about any of those things before. My life had been about getting by and staying alive for as long as I could remember. What would my life look like when I wasn’t in survival mode?
Before I could consider that question, a black car with windows tinted so darkly that I couldn’t see inside pulled up to the front of my building. I took a step back from the street to allow whoever was inside to get out. It wasn’t every day that a Mercedes found its way to Bexby. Actually, I’d never seen one in the sleepy village before. To my surprise, the driver opened the door and stepped out. He was dressed in a black suit and sporting a cap, which he tipped in my direction.
“Miss Belmond?” he asked me.
It took me a second to process two things: the first was that he wasn’t wearing a suit. He was wearing a uniform. The second was that he was talking to me.
“Yes,” I said, turning on a million-watt smile. “Sorry, I was expecting a cab.”
“I think you’ll find this more comfortable.” He grinned at me as he opened the back passenger door.
I slid inside, doing my best to look like this wasn’t the first time I’d done so. “Thank you.”
“There’s water and bourbon in the console,” he informed me before closing the door and returning to the driver’s seat.
I appreciated his suggestion. The back of the sedan was broken in two by a glossy center console that housed a small tablet. The seat’s quilted leather nearly swallowed me as the seatbelt moved automatically within reach. I took it, wondering what I’d discover next. I studied the thin grooves etched into the gleaming surface before reaching to tap one. It opened and a cupholder rose in its place. Looking around I found another between the seats. It opened to reveal a refrigerated section that held water bottles and a bottle of the aforementioned bourbon. I took a bottle of water and placed it in the cupholder.
“Please let me know if I can see to your comfort,” he told me as he started the car with a push of a button.
I did my best not to ogle as I took in the elegant stitching along with the leather upholstery. An emblem emblazoned with the word Maybach informed me what kind of car I was in. I made a mental note to consider buying one of my own when my money came through in a year’s time. I would be responsible with most of
it, but maybe a splurge or two wouldn’t hurt. Then again, this wasn’t exactly a low-profile vehicle. Once the ruse was over and I no longer had the cover of Kerrigan’s name, I needed to keep myself off the radar. My hand skirted over the buttery leather armrest to the tablet, discovering that offered me a variety of options from extending a footrest to a massage. I chose both, feeling that I might as well spoil myself while I had the chance.
The drive to London was largely pastoral when we reached the edge of the village, complete with rolling hills and cattle. Between the massage, which went all the way to my calves, and the smooth ride, my eyes were growing heavy. I glanced at the shiny new mobile phone that had arrived at my flat this morning with a note that I should read a collection of dossiers that had been loaded onto it. I’d planned to spend the journey doing just that, but as I relaxed into the first moments of my new, temporary life, I decided a nap couldn’t hurt.
A loud honk woke me and I bolted upright, only to be dragged back by the seat belt fastened around me. It took me a moment to remember where I was. Looking out the window, I gasped to see myself surrounded by traffic and buildings and people. The streets outside the car were teeming with activity. How long had I been asleep? A quick check of my phone told me that it had been over an hour. Panic gripped me as I realized the bustling scene outside the car was London. We were already here, and I hadn’t done a thing to prepare.
After coaxing the belt to loosen, having panicked itself when I jolted forward and locked me in place, I leaned forward and called to the driver, “Are we close?”
“Nearly there, but it will be a bit with traffic,” he said over his shoulder. “I trust you had a nice nap.”
“Too nice,” I muttered, wishing I had a breath mint. I tapped a few more consoles and found some. I guess I wasn’t the only one who had fallen asleep back here.
“We had to make a small detour due to road work, but we should be in Hampstead shortly.”