Love in the Bargain: A Sweet Regency Romance (Women of Worth Book 1)

by Kasey Stockton

  I halted midstep. She could not have said what I thought I heard. “Pardon me?”

  “It’s true, Elsie. Mama discovered it a few weeks ago. She found some letters in a hidden drawer in Father’s desk.”

  A few pedestrians passed by us and I waited until we were alone again before speaking. “Was that when you began to pull away?”

  Her nose crinkled up and she looked thoughtful. “I suppose. The secret was alarming and I was so worried the truth would come out at any moment. I’ve been a nervous wreck.”

  “But it did not.”

  “It did actually, only yesterday. We received a caller that was hoping for a confirmation that Father was indeed the man from the book. It will make the rounds eventually. Mother is beside herself, so I could not convince her to leave home last night for the ball. And Father...well, ironically, he is off on business, which we have come to understand is what he terms visiting his other family.”

  That explained why Mr. Hurst was away so frequently. It also explained her withdrawn behavior of late. I had no idea what to say to Freya to comfort her.

  “What will you do?” I asked.

  “Mama wants to leave London, but we will not go home. She says she cannot bear to be there when my father returns. She has mentioned going to stay with her sister in Yorkshire, but I’m not sure I could handle all of my cousins.” She shot me a wry smile. “My aunt has six boys.”

  “And Yorkshire is so far away. I wonder if you could stay with me.”

  “That is kind of you, but nothing is set in stone quite yet. For all I know, my mother will grow a backbone and face my father head-on.”

  I gave her a disbelieving look. “And what would you have her do if she faced him?”

  “Tell him to leave. He can go live with his other family in France and leave us the house and income to sustain us. He has been an absentee father my entire life, and now I know why. Part of me is relieved to have an explanation. But most of me is more determined than ever to never marry.”

  I tried for humor. “Poor Major Heybourne.”

  She shot me a glare. “Never say so. The man cannot take a hint! I have been straightforward with him from day one.”

  I linked my arm through hers and began walking back toward my carriage. “Can you blame him for falling so madly in love with you, though?”

  She smiled reluctantly. “I suppose not. I am rather extraordinary, aren’t I?”

  We reached the end of the street in silence and I offered her a ride home, to which she refused. “But where is your maid?” I asked.

  “I did not bring one.”

  I tried to temper my shock. It was one thing to arrive alone to a ball, but it was quite another thing to go out without a maid or a footman. “Does your mother know?”

  Freya rolled her eyes. “She cannot tell whether it is day or night from all of her hysterics. She has no idea where I am and neither does she care. Her world fell apart, and she cannot even breathe without wondering whether I am even legitimate. I’ve had to hide away these last weeks to avoid her obsessive hunting.”

  “Hunting?”

  Freya smiled, though her eyes were flat, void of emotion. “For evidence. She cannot sleep until she discovers whether her marriage was first or second.”

  Because if Mrs. Hurst was the second wife, then that would mean their marriage was invalid. Which, in turn, meant Freya would be illegitimate. I understood now, and my heart ached for the trauma Freya was facing.

  I picked up both of her hands, willing her to see the sincerity in my eyes. “Do not leave London without telling me. Please write to me before you go.”

  She agreed, and I watched her walk away, a self-possessed gait full of confidence that I could never have feigned in the face of such conflict. But Freya was strong, and she was proving her fortitude and independence in droves.

  “Wait!” I called before she could get far. “Didn’t Lord Cameron tell us at that musicale that the man with a hidden family was Mr. Harrison?”

  She turned, her eyebrows pulled together softly. “Yes, it was something like that.”

  “Then who is Mr. Harrison?” I asked, admitting I did not know to whom he referred at the musicale, and I still had yet to meet a Mr. Harrison since. It was not so strange at the time, for I had not been in town long and did not know many people.

  Freya shrugged. “I haven’t the faintest.”

  Chapter Forty

  I returned home to find my bedchamber in utter chaos. Clothes were strewn about, my trunks opened with items spilling onto the floor. The vanity was littered with my basic necessities, jewelry lining the edge of the bureau.

  If this was the work of a thief, then they were a very thorough thief to be sure.

  Molly stepped from the wardrobe with my white and coral gown draped over her arm and I relaxed. At least my belongings weren’t being stolen.

  “Molly, what is going on?”

  She paused, her eyes round and innocent. She clearly did not want to speak, but I looked at her, unwavering, and she relented. “I am packing your belongings, miss.”

  “We are leaving?”

  She nodded. “As soon as tomorrow, I believe.”

  I was stunned. That was entirely too fast. How would the servants at home even have time to prepare for us again?

  “But that is too quick.” I had just left my friends, but I had not said goodbye. And there was Aunt Georgina, and Coco. Not to mention Freya’s distress and Rosalynn’s grief. No. I simply could not leave yet.

  I spun in the doorway and marched to Mother’s dressing room. It was disheveled and teeming with maids packing away her belongings, too, though much less messy than my own. “Where is my mother?” I asked.

  The older of the maids turned to me in surprise. “She is in the drawing room, miss.”

  I raced down the stairs and into the drawing room, annoyed to find both of my parents placidly sipping tea on the sofa.

  “We cannot go,” I said, my chest heaving with indignation.

  They looked to me, surprise plastered across both of their faces.

  Mother regained herself swiftly. “It is settled. We will go home, ride out the scandal and come back next year and try again.”

  The idea of starting over with the scent of scandal about me was disturbing and left me queasy. “I cannot go,” I said weakly. “Freya is—”

  “Illegitimate,” Mother finished, her eyebrow raised smugly.

  I tried to cover my shock. Word had spread rapidly. “No,” I said emphatically. “At least, no one knows for certain. And can Mrs. Hurst really be blamed for her husband’s deceit?”

  “They pulled the wool over all of our eyes.”

  I could not believe what I was hearing. “Mother, how could you say that? We are living in our own sphere of false rumors and exaggerated scandal. How can you sit there and find humor in others’ pain?”

  She did not look the least bit chagrined, and I was disturbed to think I was related to such blatant disregard and superficiality.

  “Well,” I stood tall, clasping my hands in front of me. It was time to make my declaration and I was glad to have both of my parents attention, regardless of my father’s apparent lack of interest thus far. “I am going to remain in Town. If we are indeed leaving tomorrow then the Season for us has ended and I can honestly say I have not rejected a single suitor, and I retain zero interest in any man.”

  I thought of Cameron and immediately hardened the wall around my heart. Mother hadn’t said I could not have any feelings, she had said I must not have a single thread of interest. While my feelings for the man were raw and unclear at present—I did not know whether I would strangle him or simply walk away when and if I were to see him again—my interest in him had well and truly died a quick death upon learning of his deceit.

  Father’s face was a picture of confusion. “What the devil is she talking about?”

  “The agreement,” I said, looking to Mother to help me clarify. Her eyes were focused on her embr
oidery and a hint of suspicion pooled in my gut. “You know,” I said with force, my hands gripping the back of the sofa I stood behind. “The bargain Mother made with me if I accept every invitation for this entire Season and do not find a husband, that I would be free to take my dowry and do with it whatever I wish.”

  The room was thick with silence. Mother’s needle stilled halfway through the fabric. Father looked dumbstruck.

  Suddenly he began to laugh, the sound loud and maniacal and causing me to startle. “What dowry?” he asked, laughing harder.

  “What do you mean?” Mother asked sharply.

  “It’s gone,” he said, through gales of laughter. “All of it. The dowry, everything. Why do you think we are beating a hasty retreat?”

  I could not help the tears that formed. He could not mean it, surely. He could not be implying that the gaming clubs he had spent every night in for the majority of our time in London had swallowed up my independence, the money I was going to use to live off of for the rest of my life?

  I turned to my mother, her face pale and drawn. She looked as sick as I felt. “That does not change the bargain. You promised, Mother. I get to have my independence and I am not leaving.”

  “There was no bargain,” Father thundered, jumping to his feet. “I never heard a peep of this ridiculous hen-brained scheme and I surely am not going to endorse it now. You are going to marry, and you must marry well if we are to recoup our losses.”

  “I am not a pawn to do your bidding,” I defended. “I am a person.”

  “You are my child. You will do as I say.”

  We squared off, our faces mirroring anger and stubborn perseverance.

  Billington came to the door, and Mother stood. “What is it?” she demanded.

  “Miss Cox has a visitor. Shall I say she is not home for company?”

  “Yes.”

  “No!” I said, turning to Mother. It could be Freya or Rosalynn, both of whom needed me. “Allow me to say my goodbyes if you are going to tear me away so suddenly.” I did not admit I was still trying to come up with a scheme to remain in town. I was desperately grasping for whatever I could.

  Mother looked to Father, thunder in his face belying his words. “Say your goodbyes, then. But do not think for one moment that you are going to get out of this. I say we are leaving, and that is final.”

  He knew me perhaps better than I had given him credit for. He stormed from the room, Mother glancing to me sharply before following him away, no doubt to control the damage however she could.

  I nodded to Billington, who did not relay any surprise that he may have felt over the dispute he had witnessed. I stepped around the sofa, slumping on the cushion, my head falling into my hands. What was I going to do?

  The door opened behind me and I was surprised to find Lord McGregor, tall and handsome, taking up the bulk of the doorway.

  “Oh, sir. I had not expected—” I swallowed. He was distressed, of that I was certain. “Please, come in.”

  He left the door ajar as a proper gentleman ought to do and came to sit on the chair opposite me. He seemed to read my face for a moment, and we sat in silence.

  “I have come to ask for your assistance,” he said.

  I tried to remain impassive, but confusion was at the forefront of my blend of emotions.

  He cleared his throat, leveling me with a beseeching look. “May I speak plainly?”

  “Please,” I said.

  He ran a hand through his dark orange hair, disheveling it further. It struck me at that moment that he was likely grieving the loss of his friend.

  “Is it about Lord Stallsbury?” I asked, hoping to lead him into a conversation.

  “No. Well, partly, I suppose. It’s Rosalynn and her dratted stubbornness.”

  We sat in the quiet and I let him form his thoughts. I was not about to pretend I understood his meaning. Of course, I knew her stubbornness well, but I did not think that was entirely what he meant.

  “She is grieving for her brother now,” he said quietly. “Of course, we all are. It is horrible and sad, and she will be forced to endure a few months of mourning before she can marry.”

  Did he not know, then? Surely Lord McGregor, close as he was to the family, must know about Rosalynn’s pact. She did not try to hide her desire to never marry. In fact, she was the most vocal of the lot of us.

  “I am sorry,” I said, delivering a small smile. “I do not follow.”

  “Do you not?” He looked surprised. “I had thought she told you everything.”

  Well, that stung. “Apparently not.”

  “We were engaged,” he said. “It was not made public as she needed to speak to her mother first, who is off at their estate at present. She wanted to discuss it with her mother before taking my case to her father.”

  “Did she think her father would deny you?” I asked, unwilling to fully believe what I had heard, but trying to play along. Lord McGregor must have misunderstood. There was no other explanation I was willing to readily believe.

  “No.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I am like a son to him, nothing would have made Lord Clifton happier.”

  “I thought we were speaking plainly,” I admonished, “and I am more lost now than when you first arrived. Lord McGregor, Rosalynn is my closest friend and I have known she will never marry as long as I’ve known her. What you are trying to tell me is very difficult to believe.”

  “I see,” he said. “Then she failed to tell you that I have been in love with her these past few years.”

  “Yes.”

  “And she did not tell you she has struggled with feelings for me, also?”

  I shook my head, the sincerity in his eyes forcing me to believe his honesty. At least, that he honestly believed what he was saying to be true. “No, she did not tell me such a thing.”

  “Then perhaps you cannot help me after all.” His shoulders sunk, defeated.

  I shrugged. It was hard to know, without understanding the problem. “If you share your dilemma, then I may.”

  He glanced up and I winced slightly at the desolation in his eyes. “Rosalynn refuses now to move forward. She says with the mourning ahead of her it is vulgar to announce an engagement at present. I believe it could be the very thing her family needs to bring some light and hope into their lives.”

  “Their whole worlds have shifted,” I said gently. “They lost the heir, their brother, their son. Lord Tarquin alone now has to come to terms with becoming a duke when he had previously not been required to face that responsibility, and Lord Clifton must shift his direction to another son. None of their worlds will ever be the same. Perhaps if you give them time to come to terms with the changes, then Rosalynn will be open to discussing the issue again.”

  “How selfish I’ve been,” he said, shaking his head. He stood and paced to the end of the room and back, and I watched him move in agitation, considering him in a new light. It was true he had marked attention for Rosalynn from the beginning, but I had only imagined that was because of their families’ long-standing relationship. I had never looked for further feelings between either of them, but now it clicked into place.

  “When you were beginning to court me,” I said, blushing with realization. “You did not wish for a connection.”

  The side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “I was merely trying to get to know you better. I believed if I won you over then you would aid me in convincing Rosalynn to forgo that wretched pact.”

  So when I had come on to him, it scared him away unnecessarily. It was almost humorous now. Almost.

  “I apologize. I was of no help.”

  He shrugged and resumed his pacing. “It is of little consequence now.” He crossed to me and bowed. “Thank you for listening to the ramblings of a lovesick fool.”

  “I am honored,” I said, standing beside him. “Now, please tell me what she needs right now. Do I go to her, or leave her be?”

  “I cannot know,” he said. “I tried to go to her and I fea
r I only made her more distressed.”

  I chuckled. “Yes, but I will not be trying to convince her to come out with an engagement she is not ready to yet acknowledge.” If indeed, she was going to acknowledge it at all.

  He smiled wryly and took his leave. I watched the open doorway for some time, weighing my options. When I finally came to a conclusion, I stood quickly, and moved toward the drawing room door. I had to put my plan into action before I could talk myself out of it.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The bargain had ended, and thus my obligations with it. I did not seek my mother out and request permission to call on Rosalynn. I had, however, informed Billington of my destination in case they needed to locate me. But whether Father wanted to agree to it or not, I was going to gain my independence one way or another. Mother had promised, and I was not about to let that go unchallenged.

  The front door of the Nichols’ home was shrouded in black, and I swallowed nervously before stepping inside. The butler led me to the music room and I walked behind him, both hoping and fearing I would run into Lord Cameron. My mind traveled back to the time I had come to the music room to see Rosalynn and passed Lord Cameron in the hall, calling orders to his servants. I had disliked him then; I loathed him now.

  Rosalynn was seated at the pianoforte, head down and arms wrapped around her midsection. The house was eerily quiet like we were the only two people there.

  “Rosie?” I prompted softly when I had stood beside her for some time without any response.

  She jerked her head up, her tear stained cheeks glistening in the soft afternoon light. “Elsie.”

  She scooted over on the bench and I sat beside her, my arm coming around her shoulders and pulling her closer. Her head came to rest on my shoulder. We sat in the silence for some time before she straightened up, pulling a handkerchief from her sleeve to wipe her eyes. I had not made a personal decision to be done with secrets only to keep another one. I waited for her to compose herself before I spoke.

  “I had a visit from Lord McGregor.”

  She stilled beside me. “Oh.”