A Regency Courtesan's Pride. Ann Lethbridge

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      Oh, Father would really like that. And Robert, poor Robert, would continue to be left out in the cold. ‘How would that help?’

      ‘I think some of the other mill owners are angry at me,’ she said quietly. ‘They are opposed to my idea of providing an asylum for women who have led less than respectable lives.’

      ‘You mean the ladybirds I met this morning,’ he said, smiling at the memory.

      ‘Yes. They need a place from which they can find suitable work.’ She winced. ‘Perhaps meet husbands. I asked the local mill owners to give them employment.’

      ‘And because they are not in favour of the idea, they decided to damage your carriage?’ He couldn’t quite keep the incredulity out of his voice.

      ‘Caro and I opened a house in Skepton. They called it a bawdy house. Men came one night and attacked the girls and set fire to the house.’

      ‘Which is why they are living with you.’

      ‘Only two of them. The rest disappeared. We need to find them. Give them a home.’

      ‘I still don’t see how a pretend engagement resolves the problem.’

      She turned in her seat, a furrow in her brow, her eyes focused somewhere in the distance, as if she could see the future playing out before her.

      He wanted to kiss her.

      God, he ached for far more than that. If he hadn’t broken free of her a few minutes ago, he might have laid the blankets down in the snow and made love to her right there in the open. And he would have been forced to accept her proposal of marriage.

      Such an error of judgement would be the final straw for the duke. The disgrace at Waterloo and then Robert’s scandal had been bad enough, but for his heir to marry beneath him might well kill the old man. His father had looked ill for weeks after Robert’s scandal broke. Another such event would likely cause him an apoplexy, not to mention it would certainly end all possibility of Robert’s return to the family fold.

      ‘Because I am a woman, the other mill owners will not admit me to their meetings at the guild hall,’ she said stiffly, as if the admission stirred more anger than she wanted to admit. ‘They would listen to you, if they thought you were my future husband.’

      The slight bitter edge to her words gave him pause. How would it feel to be successful, as she so clearly was, and yet ignored by one’s peers?

      ‘If you pretended to be my fiancé for a few days,’ she continued. ‘If you put your name behind my plan, they would be forced to give in. Then you would cry off.’

      ‘A business arrangement,’ he said. Irrationally he felt a sense of disgruntlement. An odd reaction, when he’d been ready to flee at the word marriage. He shook his head to clear it of such stupid thoughts.

      It had taken weeks of argument to convince the duke to accept Charlie’s promise to make a suitable marriage in exchange for Robert’s forgiveness. To go back on his word would be cruel to his mother as well as dishonourable. He had to be practical.

      Guilt weighed him down. No matter how much he wanted to help Merry, this was not the way.

      Not because he couldn’t see himself married to Merry, he acknowledged with surprise, but because of what it would mean for his family if he broke his agreement with the duke.

      She nibbled her bottom lip and then let go a long breath with a shake of her head. ‘It would never work anyway.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘No one would believe a man of your station would stoop to wed me. Not unless you were in desperate financial straits.’

      He raised a brow, considering her words.

      ‘Well, they wouldn’t,’ she said. ‘Look at the way you reacted.’

      He felt insulted by her quick dismissal. But she was right. He’d instantly hunkered down behind his defensive walls. Yet he could not leave any woman defenceless, especially not this one, not now when his suspicions of foul play were confirmed.

      He turned the sleigh in through the gates of Draycott House—the carved words on the pillar announced the name. Beneath the name was a coat of arms. A kingly red deer surrounded by ivy. It looked vaguely familiar.

      ‘I will speak to these mill owners on your behalf.’

      She gave a small shake of her head, a wry smile twisting her lips. ‘As my friend, or even as the son of a duke, you would have no real influence. They will meet you individually, agree with everything you say, but behind closed doors, they will do as they please.’

      How she must hate the exclusion. ‘Then I will speak to the constable. And the magistrate.’

      ‘You are most kind.’

      She couldn’t have sounded more unconvinced. He wanted to throttle her pretty little neck. Or kiss her pursed lips. Neither one of which would help matters.

      ‘Don’t underestimate the force of the Mountford name.’

      ‘Oh, I won’t.’

      The dryness in her voice grated. He had the feeling she felt let down, but she really didn’t know the power he wielded as heir to a dukedom.

      ‘Oh, my word!’ she exclaimed, sounding shocked and amused.

      Charlie followed the direction of her gaze. In front of the house, on an expanse of snow-covered lawn interrupted only by the odd ancient elm and cypress, several figures darted about with cloaks flying. Snowballs flew through the air. The sound of laughter and shrieks of joy pierced the quiet. There was a smaller figure, too. A child?

      ‘Your ladies are out on a spree,’ he said.

      ‘I suppose Caro decided they needed some exercise in the fresh air.’

      ‘They look like any other young women when faced with sunshine and an unexpected fall of snow.’

      ‘I know,’ she said. ‘Hard to imagine how awful their lives must have been before.’

      For a moment, Charlie tried to imagine what it must be like, selling your body to live. Hell, wasn’t that what his father wanted him to do when he married Lady Allison in order to expand the Mountford influence? The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

      One of the women collapsed in a heap of giggles on a snow bank. Another dropped a snowball on her face. Mrs Falkner—Charlie could make her out quite clearly now dressed in dark grey—called to the small boy.

      All the women were laughing and giggling. He guessed there were few times in their lives when they’d been as happy as they appeared this afternoon. Something about it felt right and good. One of them picked up the boy and whirled him around.

      ‘Do you think they would like a sleigh ride? Around the lawn?’

      Merry’s face broke into a smile. ‘They would love it. And it would be a terrible shame to waste all the work of harnessing the team.’

      Her СКАЧАТЬ