CHAPTER TEN
“Hello, young man.”
“Hello, Mildred.”
Nicholas walked into the front parlor where Mildred was seated in a chair by the fire. He’d just washed and changed his clothes for supper. Sarah and Mr. Winthrop hadn’t appeared yet so Nicholas had her all to himself.
It was his birthday, but he hadn’t informed anyone, and he would pretend the meal was for him, that it was a celebration of the event.
He’d always been aware of the correct date, but he never marked it as special. While growing up with Peggy, she’d never been inclined to observe the occasion, and she would never have bought him a gift or cooked him any of his favorite foods. She’d received funds to take care of him, but little had been used for his benefit.
He’d been out all afternoon and had stumbled on Desdemona Henley and Michael Fenwick. The encounter had reminded him that he had more important things to do than flirt with Sarah or chat with Mildred.
Was it worth it to continue tarrying with them? He couldn’t decide and never liked to put himself in a position where he dithered and debated. Life was short, and it was ludicrous to fret over any issue.
She smiled up at him and asked, “How was your day?”
“Long. Boring. How about yours?”
“It was quite grand. I spent it with Sarah, and she’s a joy.”
“Yes, she is.”
“She should be ready soon. Winston too. While we wait for them, why don’t you pour us a glass of wine? Or have a whiskey if that’s your preference.”
“I’ll join you in the wine.”
He went over to the sideboard and poured two glasses. Then he gave one to her and sat down on the sofa across from her. He liked looking into her blue eyes. They were so much like his own, and of course he had a soft spot for older women who were kind.
He’d never been mothered. Peggy had been a sullen drunkard and shrewish harridan. Her low moods had made him wonder what it would have been like to have a mother. Would he be more trustworthy or responsible? As it was, he’d typically pursue any conclusion if it meant he would end up with a few pounds in his pocket.
Who carried on so immorally? He’d just turned thirty. Would he ever get tired of being such a sloth and a swindler?
“I knew some Farnsworths when I was a boy,” he lied. “Have I told you that?”
“No, you haven’t.”
“We lived in a village outside London for awhile, but I don’t remember where it was. The Farnsworth property was down the lane, and the name stuck with me. Who was your father?”
“Harold.”
So…there it was. Harold Farnsworth. The news had him feeling a bit better about his plan, but he couldn’t let her note any reaction. He pondered, then shook his head. “I don’t believe that was it. It must have been another village and another Farnsworth.”
“It was probably a relative. My family tree isn’t terribly convoluted. How about you? Have you any siblings?”
“No.”
“Or details about your father?”
“Not any I would share. I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself.”
“Was he a wild rogue like you?”
“Very much so.”
“I’ve known some wild rogues in my day.”
He grinned. “I bet you have. I can’t picture you with a dullard. Why didn’t you marry one of them? Don’t tell me they were all too cowardly to propose.”
“I intimidated most of them.”
“But there must have been one or two who tempted you.”
She sighed with obvious delight. “There was one, but he was completely inappropriate. My father refused the match.”
“What was his name?”
“Robert. Robert Stone.”
Again, he shielded any reaction. “You sound as if you’re still pining away.”
“You remind me of him. Perhaps that’s why I fancy you so much.”
He toasted her with his glass. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. He was the best man I ever met.”
She was studying him in a way that had him squirming, and he asked, “Why are you staring? I feel as if I’m back in school and about to be paddled for an infraction.”
“I’m guessing you were a handful as a boy.”
“I was.”
“I’m also guessing that paddlings were a common occurrence.”
He laughed at that. “You’re correct.”
“How are you getting along with Sarah?”
“We’re getting along brilliantly.”
“I heard you come in last night.”
He froze, being careful not to blanch. “I’m sorry we woke you. We were trying to be quiet.”
“You didn’t wake me. I often have trouble sleeping, and with it being summer and the windows open noises rouse me. It seemed as if a man was in her room with her, but I’m sure that couldn’t have been possible.”
She shot him a stern look, and he wished a hole would appear in the floor so he could drop into it and vanish. He was flummoxed over how to reply. He could have remained silent, but it was clear she knew he’d been there, and he wouldn’t offend her by denying it.
“I won’t act as if I’ve misunderstood you,” he said.
“Good. When I teased her to tell you where her bedchamber was located, I didn’t expect you would immediately sneak into it.”
“I apologize.”
She waved a hand as if his words were of no account. “I comprehend amour much better than you’d predict I would.”
“It was an insult to you—and to her—for me to do that. In my defense, I must state that I’m a bit fonder of her than I recognized.”
“I think you are too, which brings me to a question about your intentions. I hate to raise it because I have no connection to either of you so it’s really not my place to inquire. But she is working for me so I must protect her.”
“You don’t have to protect her from me. I would never hurt her.”
“Wouldn’t you? I could swear you just admitted to being in her bedroom.”
Mildred glared, peering deep down into his black heart to see that there was nothing there. Not kindness. Not compassion. Not decency or principles or morals.
He simply floated through life, gambling and dabbling with trollops. He had no goals or plans for the future. He’d like to claim he was disgusted by his lack of initiative or that he was dying to behave in a more ethical manner, but for the most part he was happy with his lot.
Certainly, he’d like to have more money. Wouldn’t everyone? Other than a persistent dearth of funds, he liked his dissolute existence.
“Would you ever consider marriage, Nicholas?” she asked.
“If the girl was very, very rich.”
“Would you ever proceed for love?”
“That’s probably not in the cards for me.”
“Are you positive? We condition our bachelors to assume they can’t wed without a pile of money in the balance, but there are other reasons that can make it worth it to bind yourself.”
“I didn’t realize you were such a romantic.”
“I would have wed for love.”
“You’re wealthy so it’s easy to imagine you would have.”
“I wouldn’t have been wealthy. My father would have disowned me.”
“Yet you didn’t beggar yourself.”
“I didn’t have the chance so I wasn’t able to find out what the ending would have been.”
He was anxious to discover why the opportunity had passed her by, but he wouldn’t pry. He sat patiently, hoping she’d expound, but she simply blew out a heavy breath.
“I’m afraid you leave me no choice,” she said.
“No choice about what?”
“I was a tad impulsive in inviting you to stay while Sarah is in residence.”
“I’ve been fretting over it too. It’s a small house, and I am so charmed by her.”
“I don’t mind you stopping by to see her or dine with us in the evening. I don’t even mind you escorting her to a dance or soiree, but I think she’d need a chaperone.”
He smiled. “Maybe.”
“I most especially can’t have you sleeping under the same roof with her. I won’t court that sort of disaster.”
“I agree that it’s ridiculously reckless for me to be here, and as I’ve proved to myself over and over I have very little self-control when I stumble on something I’m desperate to have.”
“I won’t condemn you for your infatuation. No man could ignore such an attraction. She’s remarkable, and a fellow would have to be blind not to want her.”
“And I’m not blind.”
“No, you’re not so you should move back to your rented room.”
“I’ve already arranged to go.”
“You rascal. I’ve been debating how to politely kick you out without hurting your feelings.”
“I have several acquaintances who leased a house in Bath for the next two weeks.”
“Yes, we saw you with Lady Middlebury over by the hotel.”
“From how you’re scowling at me, I must confess that I bumped into her quite by accident.”
“It didn’t look like an accident to me, but then I suppose your friends are your own business.”
“I apologize again, but I should mention that I’ve been disappointing women all my life. I’ve only known you a few days, and now I’ve disappointed you too.”
“I’m not disappointed in you. Not yet. I merely think Desdemona Henley is a snake in the grass, and if I were a man and I was lucky enough to pick a Henley to keep me company, it would be Sarah and not her cousin.”
“I understand, and I swear Lady Middlebury and I are barely cordial. We gamble, and I win money from her. That’s about the extent of it.”
“I wasn’t aware she had money to lose.”
“She doesn’t, but I take it from her anyway.”
“Good for you. I assume Clayton will be at this house that’s been rented. Who else?”
“Michael Fenwick, and I believe Pendergast is coming.”
“It will be a collection of roués and rogues. Heaven help the landlord.”
“I belong there rather than here. I’ll pack my bag after supper.”
“You won’t be a stranger, will you?”
“Absolutely not. I will pop in so often that you’ll grow sick of me.”
“I doubt that, Nicholas Swift. I doubt that very, very much.”
* * * *
Sarah had dressed for supper in Mildred’s room. It was bigger, and there was a nice mirror at her dressing table. She was wearing the lavender gown Mildred had bought for her, and the housemaid had styled her hair. She’d braided and curled it with rows of tiny white flowers.
All in all, Sarah thought she looked very fetching. She was eager to tantalize Nicholas so he’d yearn and pine away even as she began to separate herself from him.
She’d danced out onto the edge of ruin, but Mildred had yanked her to her senses. After they’d arrived home from the cemetery, they’d had the intimate discussion Mildred had insisted Sarah needed. Sarah had learned much more than any virtuous maiden ever should about carnal affairs, and she was shocked at how near she’d been to calamity.
As Mildred had explained, she was far past the age when a woman should have been wedded and bedded so she was susceptible to a man’s caresses. But unless she had a ring put on her finger, she had to be careful.
Her infatuation for Nicholas had bubbled up so quickly that she’d forgotten what she knew about right and wrong. She had to regroup and get herself on a moral path. There was no other choice but to free herself from his affection, and she had to free him so he could return to the debauched world where he thrived. There was no reason for him to be loitering with Sarah.
Only disaster could result.
She slipped the fan onto her wrist and took a final peek in the mirror. She appeared rich and happy and settled, and she wished her sisters could see her. They’d be amazed—and happy too.
She went to the door and stepped into the hall. Mr. Winthrop was exiting his room at the end. He smiled and walked over to her.
“You look smashing this evening, Miss Henley,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“Lavender is the perfect color for you.”
“Mildred selected it for me.”
The comment piqued his interest more than it should have. “The color or the gown?”
“The gown. She thought the shade would suit me.”
“She’s correct, but then she has a keen eye for fashion.”
He studied her, not with masculine intent, but with a heightened curiosity she didn’t like.
“I should probably go down,” she said. “I’m certain she’s wondering what happened to me.”
“Yes, we should both go, but would you oblige me for a minute?”
“Of course.”
“I’m very protective of her, and I feel a special burden to ensure she’s well.”
“What is it you’d like to know? I’ll answer if I can.”
“How long have you been employed by her now?”
“It’s been a month or so.”
He nodded. “You’ve had a chance to acclimate to her quirks and routines.”
Sarah was instantly on guard. “I suppose—although she doesn’t confide in me.”
“Yes, but you see things and hear things.”
“Not really. I work for her, Mr. Winthrop. I fetch items she can’t find, and I read to her when she’s tired. I accompany her when she’s running errands. I believe you’ve misconstrued my position.”
“Have I?” His gaze dropped to her gown and the painted fan dangling from her wrist. “I could swear the two of you are quite cordial. She seems to dote on you.”
“She’s kind to me,” Sarah said, “so perhaps you’ve confused kindness with doting.”
“She and I are old, old friends, and I worry about her.”
“I worry about her too. I think she’s lonely.”
“She’s always been lonely,” he pointed out. “It leaves her vulnerable to others taking advantage. She lets people get close who shouldn’t be.”
Sarah bristled with offense. “I hope you’re not implying that I might be one of those people.”
“No, no,” he hastily insisted. “Pardon me. I wasn’t clear. I’m merely concerned about how she’s spending her money and the caliber of guests with whom she’s socializing.”
His expression was crafty and cunning, and it was obvious he was trying to draw her in, to make her a conspirator against Mildred. Sarah was livid. He claimed to be her friend. Her oldest friend. What was he doing?
“Her finances are her own business,” Sarah fumed. “I wouldn’t presume to pay attention to her expenditures. It’s none of my affair. And as to any socializing, we’ve only just arrived in Bath. We’ve had no visitors, and we haven’t gone visiting.”
“It’s evident you deem me a snoop and a busybody.” Sarah simply glared, the remark speaking for itself, and he continued. “You recently moved in with her so you haven’t been privy to some of the trouble she’s been in. For example, she has a fixation with the occult and the charlatans who ply that trade. She winds up handing over hundreds of pounds for potions and spells. It’s reckless— but unseemly too—for a woman of her station to act that way.”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t know about any of it.”
“The Midsummer Festival is in full swing so there are many dubious characters in town. Has she consulted with any fortunetellers?”
“No,” Sarah lied.
“Has anyone stopped by who shouldn’t have? Has her lawyer come? Has she had a private discussion she didn’t allow you to overhear?”
“With her lawyer?” Sarah scowled at him. “No.”
His expression grew sycophantic. “Please don’t be upset. I’m anxious over her situation, and I’m not always around to chase off scoundrels.”
“I understand.”
Sarah understood all right. He was a duplicitous fiend, and she couldn’t wait to warn Mildred. Or might Mildred already suspect?
“I’m particularly alarmed by Mr. Swift,” he said, “and how he’s glommed onto her. He’s precisely the sort of blackguard who fleeces her out of her money.”
“Mr. Swift?”
“Yes, I can practically predict the tales of woe he’ll eventually tell her. She’s a sympathetic person, and she’s gullible. She can’t resist a sob story.”
Mildred? Gullible? Sarah wanted to laugh. “Yes, I’ve noticed that about her.”
“We could be a team,” he brightly urged. “You and I—we could protect her together. I’d feel so much better if you were helping me.”
“I’d be glad to spy for you,” Sarah fibbed as she angrily wondered how many of Mildred’s prior companions he’d coerced into tattling.
“I knew you’d be sensible.”
To her disgust, he slipped her a coin—as if she were a scullery maid who’d earned a penny by cleaning his shoes.
“There’s more where that came from,” he pompously stated, “if you keep me posted on her antics. Before I leave for London, I’ll jot down my address so you can write me if you have information to provide.”
Then he winked as if they’d entered into a secret agreement. She was so incensed she nearly slapped him. It took every ounce of her composure to pretend she wasn’t insulted.
“Oh, I will be so relieved to have your wise counsel,” she sarcastically gushed.
He beamed like the pretentious ass he was. “I’m happy to guide you.”
“Now I’m sorry,” she said, “but I have to get downstairs.”
“Yes, let’s both go. I’m hungry, and I can smell that roast!”
Sarah turned her back on him and started down. She was struggling to control her breathing, to reassert some of the aplomb she’d mustered when she’d still been in Mildred’s bedchamber and preening in the mirror.
She was spitting mad, but she could hardly burst into the parlor and spew accusations. Later on, she would apprise Mildred of what had occurred, but for the moment it was a birthday party, and Sarah wouldn’t ruin it with bickering.
The coin Mr. Winthrop had given her was burning a hole in her palm. She clutched it tightly and marched down to the vestibule. Mildred was chatting with Nicholas and, braced for anything, she rounded the corner and swept into the room.
“Here’s Sarah,” Mildred said. “My, my, aren’t you pretty tonight?”
“Hello, Mildred.” She smiled at Nicholas, her affection shining through. “And hello, Nicholas. I’m delighted you could join us for supper.”
“So am I.” He stood to greet her, and he seemed mesmerized. “You look fantastic.”
“Thank you.”
“No, seriously, I mean you look fantastic.”
“She always looks fantastic,” Mildred said.
“But she’s outdone herself this evening,” Nicholas claimed.
She walked over to him, and he bent down and kissed her on the cheek. It was such a brazen gesture, but Sarah didn’t deflect it.
She clasped his hand and squeezed his fingers. “It’s nice to see you too.”
Yet as he sat on the sofa, and she could have sat next to him she went over and sat with Mildred instead. They stared across at him, and he received the message loud and clear that their relationship had changed.
Mr. Winthrop strolled in after that, but Sarah’s gaze was fixed on Nicholas, and she didn’t glance at the other man for a single second.