Chapter Four
My heart climbed into my throat as I stared at the Sutton townhouse, so tall and narrow it was a wonder a strong wind didn’t knock it on its side. A carriage lumbered past, kicking up stray dust over the cobblestones. My eyes watered as the earthy particles flew around my spectacles and into my nose and mouth.
Doubling over, I hacked until the sting left my throat. I patted the bodice of my cross-front walking dress, a delicate peach confection. Jane would have my head if I stained it. Straightening my bonnet, I checked the street and crossed before another carriage endangered the cleanliness of my attire.
However much the obnoxious blue front door taunted me, I couldn’t simply walk in. Sutton’s butler, Isaac—of an age with us and once a close friend of mine—abhorred me after my falling out with Edwin. I circled around the side of the towering townhouse, squeezing through a narrow dirt track between the Sutton house and his neighbor. The alley, covered in scraggly weeds, was a testament that Edwin never used it. If he did, he would have nourished it into a blooming garden.
As I slipped into the cool shadows, the drop in temperature washed over me like a refreshing bath. Hot beads of sweat gathered at my hairline. I wiped them away as I hurried down the narrow track. As the wall ended, a wooden fence taller than my head loomed above me. I reached for the gate, praying it was unlocked. I couldn’t climb the fence, not in these skirts. I was in luck.
The gate opened into a square back yard not even as large as Old Lady Gladstone’s parlor. A narrow storage shed occupied one corner. Opposite the house, a line of bushes flourished. A single tree formed an anchor for a line strung between the tree and the house. A maid rhythmically beat a rug hung over that line, sweat beading along her damp hairline. As I shut the gate behind me, she raised a hand in greeting, recognizing me from my visits with Nancy, Sutton’s cook and a close friend of mine.
My nose twitched as the sweet scent of baking wafted beneath a thicker, savory scent of cooking meat. I glanced at the maid. “Did Nancy make cookies?”
She paused in her work and wiped her forehead with her sleeve. Smirking, she answered, “My lord informed us of your arrival, though I believe he thought you would use the front door. It seems he doesn’t know you as well as we do.”
I offered her a slim smile, though it felt wan. Edwin didn’t know me—not anymore. “He’ll soon learn, won’t he?”
As I parted ways with her, I hesitated in the threshold to the kitchen. The steam from the bubbling pots fogged up my spectacles. I removed them, squinting to make out the figures.
The servants inside moved with a good deal more lethargy than usual. I didn’t blame them; the heat was stifling. With an expression of reluctance, a young man with a dark mop of hair slunk into the room and tapped a bony, hawk-nosed woman on the shoulder. She dashed into the hall with a look of relief as the man took over her station, slicing vegetables. Everyone had their shirt sleeves rolled up to their elbows and their hair slicked away from their faces.
“Nancy?” I called, searching the forms for the right one.
“Over here, dear,” Nancy called. She was the curvy woman currently kneading bread dough on the tabletop. Having seemingly completed her task, she tipped the dough into a bowl many times too large for the ball, and covered it with a tea towel. She wiped her hands on her apron as she turned.
Nancy watched over the entire house, even the lord, like a mother hen. She and her son, Isaac, were as much family to him as his own blood. At times when I was young, she’d even been like a mother to me.
“Why don’t you come in? Lord Sutton is upstairs, I believe, if you’re hoping to see him.”
I crossed my arms. “Why would I enter by way of the kitchen if I hoped to encounter him?”
“Be careful with that—”
Nancy wasn’t talking to me, but rather to a young woman with short legs and a pear-like figure tilting the tray as she removed it from the oven. An enticing aroma wafted off the tray, of tart apples and cinnamon. Nancy rushed over, grabbing a rag along the way to shield her hands, and helped the girl lift the tray onto the pitted table in the center of the room. My mouth watered as I hovered closer to the apple turnovers, each browned to golden perfection.
Nancy snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Don’t you look at those. They’re for supper tonight.” Her lips spread in a sweet smile, displaying the gap between her two front teeth. “Though you’re welcome to stay and partake in it.”
I shuddered. Dinner with Edwin? No, thank you. I cleaned my spectacles and returned them to their proper place.
“I’ll stay no more than a moment,” I promised.
With a wry twist of her mouth, she said, “Then we’ll have to speak here. I haven’t a moment to spare.”
She returned to tending to her kitchen staff.
The cooling turnovers made my stomach grumble. I sidled closer, but Nancy looked up at that moment. She raised her eyebrows. Drat. I needed a distraction, like when Edwin and I were younger.
When Mop-hair grimaced as he sidestepped me, carrying a tray of chopped carrot and onion, I realized I stood in the way. I retreated to the corner of the room, where no one lingered by the counter. I hopped up to sit on it.
When Nancy spotted me, she sighed. “Mary, you’ve gotten flour all over your dress. I just used that counter to knead the dough.”
I shrugged. “I’ll brush it off. It’s not as though I’m expected anywhere.”
With a rueful shake of the head, Nancy rescued a covered plate from the larder. When she revealed the contents, my mouth watered. Cookies. Hers were the sweetest, softest cookies. I’d been trying to bribe her away from Edwin for years. Each time, she’d laughed me off and confessed that she couldn’t leave her family. The moment she set the tray on the counter next to me, I leaned forward and plucked a dark, round chocolate one. It was still a bit warm.
“You’ve been baking today,” I noted with approval.
Nancy beamed. Her wide smile displayed the charming gap between her two front teeth. “I wanted to make a good impression on the newest addition to our house.”
I choked on a mouthful of cookie. “Please tell me you do not mean me.”
A sly smile curved her mouth before she turned to keep track of her staff’s movements. Blast! She did mean me. I would not in this lifetime be moving into Edwin’s house. I stuffed the remainder of the cookie into my mouth and chose another from the plate.
Nancy shooed my hand away. “Now, Mary. Leave some for the rest of us.”
A kettle whistled. The moment the cook turned her back, I stole another cookie. I had it half eaten by the time she turned to pour the water into a waiting pot. She shook her head and clucked her tongue as she set the lid on the teapot and waited for the tea to steep.
“Oh, dear. When you live here, you’ll grow as wide as you are tall if you don’t learn to control yourself.”
The notion soured my enjoyment of the sweets in a hurry. I left my half-eaten cookie on the edge of the dish and wiped my fingers on my skirt. Nancy tsked, fishing out a handkerchief from the wide front pocket sewn into her apron. The pocket was embroidered with the Sutton family seal, a white frond on a green field. She thrust the square of cloth into my hands.
I nodded my thanks and wiped my hands with the rough cloth as I said, “I won’t be living here.”
“Surely you don’t mean to make him move into the cramped little home you and your father share.”
I wadded the handkerchief and dropped it alongside the plate. “Of course not. He will live here and I will live anywhere else.”
Nancy pursed her lips. “That’s no way to carry on a marriage.”
The other servants in the room listened far too close. I rearranged my braid over my shoulder. The air was so thick, my breaths came with difficulty. I understood why the staff took turns idling in the hall.
“There will be no marriage,” I said firmly, catching Nancy’s gaze. I couldn’t let her imagination run away with her, or she’d help Old Lady Gladstone plan the wedding. “This is a temporary engagement only.”
Collecting the teapot, Nancy moved it next to my hip. It landed with an audible clink. She folded her hands in front of her. A serene position, if not for her determined expression. “Why must it be temporary?”
I glared at her. “You know why. You must have heard the rumors.”
“About how our lord was caught kissing you in public?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Yes. Those rumors. We’re only suffering this engagement until the rumors abate.”
To my relief, Nancy turned her attention away from me. I cleaned my spectacles and finished eating a cookie while she shouted instructions to Mop-hair. A pot boiled, adding more vapor to the air. Hawk-nose returned from the hall, to relieve the girl who had nearly spilled the turnovers on the floor. As Nancy returned from a tour of the room, checking on the progress of her staff, she fetched a teacup and saucer. She upended it next to me and peeked beneath the lid of the teapot.
“I don’t see why the engagement must be temporary. You and our lord were always thick as thieves as children. You must still have some tender feelings for him, to be caught in your circumstance.”
My cheeks flamed, certainly an effect of the abysmal heat in the kitchen. “That…had little to do with tender feelings.” Edwin had tossed what tender feelings I had for him aside when he’d left London. He didn’t care for me at all, he never had. This inferno between us…that was nothing more than passion, quick to ignite and to fade.
When a knowing smile spread across Nancy’s face, I studied the floor. The twitch of a gray tail peeking from behind the corner of the counter caught my attention. I grinned as I met Nancy’s gaze again. I changed the subject, interrupting her before she spoke.
“Edwin brought Patches home.” I’d been half-afraid that he would leave the kitten to starve. He’d been far too concerned with fleas…or so it had seemed.
Nancy’s smile turned wry. “Indeed he did, and that little rascal had best learn to attack something other than my feet. Our lord said he was a token of your affection,” the older woman said, innocent.
I suspected that Edwin had used much less flattering words to describe how he’d suddenly come into possession of a flea-bitten cat. “I gave him to Edwin because he needs a good home, where he’ll be taken care of.”
She fixed me a cup of tea with sugar and milk, the way I liked, and added one last cookie to the saucer. As she offered me the cup, I accepted warily.
“Our lord wouldn’t hurt a fly, you know that.”
I relaxed. I did. I bit into the cookie, savoring the way it crumbled in my mouth.
Nancy added, “He wouldn’t shower a woman with romantic attention, either. Excepting yourself, of course.”
I choked on the cookie. Coughing and spluttering, I leaned forward. Nancy patted me briskly on the back. My eyes watered. When I caught my breath, I waved her away and sipped the hot tea.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
After stuffing the rest of the delicious cookie in my mouth, I glowered at Nancy. It probably wasn’t half as effective as usual, seeing as my cheeks were currently puffed out from chewing.
I swallowed, then added, “He does not shower me with romantic attention.” Just thinking of it made my stomach tighten.
“No, of course not.” She turned her gaze away from mine to attend to her staff once more. “I did hear him lament it was you who had kissed him, not the other way around.”
I set the teacup next to me before I spilled. “It was not. Edwin kissed me. He was adamant about it.”
“Is that so?” Her brown hair fought to escape the kerchief she had tied to keep it off her forehead as she tilted her head to hide her smirk. Once she managed a straight face, she turned to me once more. “I don’t know what happened between you and our lord—”
“No. You don’t.” My tone was flat. Final. I couldn’t look her in the eye. I feared if I did, she would be able to read my every secret.
Like the kiss that continued to consume my dreams. Or the burning desire I’d felt for him.
I buried those memories. I’d dance on the graves of those memories if it would help.
Fortunately, Nancy seemed to understand my discomfort. She turned her attention to one of her staff, and spoke soft instructions to them, ignoring me.
My shoulders relaxed, falling from where they’d climbed around my ears. My heartbeat slowed. My stomach grumbled again, beckoned by the turnovers. The clamor of the kitchen drowned it out. Although everyone spoke in soft voices and performed their duties with lethargy, a quiet sort of cacophony clogged the air. The bubbling of boiling water or soup. The scrape of the spoon against the side of the pot. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables. I leaned back against the wall.
Edwin strolled into the room with purpose. I froze in place, not even daring to breathe. His back was turned to me, his shoulders straining against the white shirt he’d rolled to his elbows to display his brawny forearms. He wore a brown waistcoat but no jacket. I couldn’t look away from the glimpse of his skin. If he noticed me, he didn’t show it.
“Is there a problem in my kitchen?” His voice was deep, commanding. Almost confrontational.
Nancy bristled.
“I should think not! Did someone say there was?” She rounded on her staff. Even with her back turned, her glare was evident from her hostile stance. Their eyes widened. They shook their heads as she advanced on them.
The moment she passed Edwin, he dropped his confrontational demeanor and darted for the turnovers. He fished two off the tray and into handkerchiefs. That little thief! As he turned, a grin in place, he froze. His gaze locked onto mine. His smile slipped. He lifted his finger to his lips.
I raised my eyebrows at him, darting my gaze to the turnovers, but didn’t say a word.
With that same long finger, he beckoned me closer and tilted his chin to indicate the door.
I nodded. Nancy was in a deep, disapproving conversation with the girl who had nearly tipped over the tray of turnovers. Her back was turned to the door. If I made noise, she’d turn in a second. I rested my weight on my hands and slowly lowered myself to the floor. My skirt bunched around my legs, displaying my sheer stockings. My shoes kissed the ground without a sound. I bit my lip to hide a grin as I tiptoed to the door after Edwin.
Nancy turned. He grabbed onto my hand and yanked me into the hall.
“Come back here, you rascals!”
I stampeded after Edwin. He ducked into the threshold of a sitting room, the closest one to the front door, and drew me in after him. Precious little space remained in the doorway, with the two of us pressed together. I peered around the corner in time to spot Nancy’s ample form enter the hallway, her shoulders drawn to her ears in exasperation. I ducked my head back.
“Those are for later…” Her voice trailed off as she heaved a sigh. “You two haven’t changed since you were children.”
I met Edwin’s twinkling gaze. The brown in his irises swallowed up the green as his pupils dilated. We burst into laughter. I pressed my hand against my mouth, trying to stifle it in case Nancy still patrolled the corridor. Edwin didn’t bother. His smile grew, wide and genuine. My heartbeat stuttered. I hadn’t seen that smile since we were children. Even then, it was rare. Teasing it out was like a treasure.
He offered me one of the turnovers. I juggled it between my hands as I bit into it. Hot, but oh, so delicious. I moaned with delight. Flavors burst over my tongue, apple mixed with cinnamon and a darker spice like nutmeg. I polished it off in record time, licking the grease from my fingers as Edwin finished his.
When I tilted my face up to meet his, a frown teased at his lips. I pursed my lips. “What?”
“You have something…” His gaze latched onto my mouth. Wait, no, beside my mouth. He lifted his thumb and wiped off a smutch of filling that hadn’t made its way onto my tongue.
He was one to talk. He had crumbs framing both corners of his lips.
The rough pad of his thumb caressed the side of my mouth. He held it, and the filling, in front of my lips, offering it to me. When I parted my lips and he obediently slipped his thumb inside, I licked off the filling. The burst of flavor coupled with the salty taste of his skin made me squirm in place. His eyes shone like black pools, his pupils swallowed his irises. I sucked on his thumb as he drew it away. His lips parted.
Whether I leaned up or he leaned down, it didn’t matter. The next instant, our lips met. His palm cradled my cheek. The other pressed me close against him. He lifted me, fitting me against him as he languidly explored my mouth. His hand dropped down to cup my bottom. Possessive. I twined my arms around his neck.
The kiss grew heated, urgent. He reversed our positions, pressing me against the open door. I clutched at his head, unwilling to let him break contact between us. The points of contact between us glowed as if on fire. I returned the kiss fiercely.
Someone rapped on the front door. We froze. Edwin lifted his head, staring down at me. He looked a bit bewildered, as if wondering at the madness that had overtaken us. Truthfully, I wondered, too. For a moment, he’d seemed so unguarded, free. Did the boy I’d known still exist in the man, after all? If we were destined to endure each other’s company for the next thirteen days, perhaps I’d have the time to find out. If a part of him was still the same, our time together might not be the trial I anticipated.
He cocked his head, listening as the knock at the door came again. “Isaac?”
Wherever the butler dallied, it wasn’t nearby. When he didn’t answer the door, Edwin swore, pulling away from me. Instinctually, I reached for him, trying to keep him close.
When I realized what I was doing, I dropped my hands to my sides.
Edwin didn’t notice the internal struggle. He stared at his hand, caked in flour, and murmured, “What?” under his breath. As he shook his head, wiping the powdery residue on his beige trousers, the glimmer of a smile peeked out.
I loved that smile. As a child, I’d made it my mission to find ways to draw it out. In how many new, forbidden situations would I be able to extract it as an adult?
I shivered, balling my fists as I tried to subdue the reaction. Edwin didn’t notice. As he turned to answer the door himself, I stopped him. “Wait. I came here for more than a turnover.”
As he turned his gaze toward me, my insides quivered. He frowned. “What do you need?”
“You promised me a contract.”
The visitor rapped on the door again, louder. Edwin glanced toward it before he turned his attention back to me. “I’m waiting for my solicitor. That might be him now.”
I nodded. “Answer it, then.”
He raked me with a lingering glance before he turned to answer the visitor. A whoosh of air and the sudden sound of carriages and horses hooves poured in as Edwin opened the door. His body blocked my line of vision, his shoulders filling out his shirt and the waistcoat hugging his torso as it tapered down to his lean hips.
“’allo, sir. I’ve a letter from Mr. Barlow for Lord Sutton.”
“Thank you. I’ll take that. Wait a moment and I’ll fetch a shilling for your troubles.”
As I stepped closer, Edwin shifted to reveal a dirty-faced errand boy with bare feet. The boy held a narrow envelope stamped with a red seal. The boy’s cheeks were a bit hollow, his eyes wide. One shilling wasn’t enough. While Edwin retreated to the closet to fetch a coin from one of his coat pockets, I fished my pin money out of my reticule. A few pence and another shilling. I raised my fingers to my lips as I handed the coins to him with a wink. The boy made the coins disappear. He stared at Edwin expectantly as he returned.
Edwin gave him the shilling in exchange for the parcel. As he shut the door, he regarded me with a peculiar expression.
I frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He raised his eyebrows. “How much did you give him?”
I crossed my arms. “It’s your letter. Why would I give him anything?”
“Because I know you.” He paused. “Or I used to.” Shaking his head, he offered me the envelope. “In any case, it’s your letter. The contract I had drawn up.”
“Brilliant!” I snatched it from his hand. “Where do you keep the ink? I know it isn’t in your study.”
He gestured to the doorway of the sitting room, the same we had so recently occupied. “There’s a writing desk in the— Wait.” He frowned. “How do you know I don’t keep ink in the study?”
I shrugged as I turned down the corridor, sliding my thumbnail along the edge of the seal on the envelope to loosen it. “You keep plants in there.”
He followed close on my heels, bristling. “Have you been in there?”
“Why would I want to touch your plants, Edwin?”
“I haven’t the foggiest notion. They’re very delicate.”
When Nancy had informed me that he didn’t shower women with romantic attention, she would have done better to remind me that he spoke of no one with such loving care as his plants. Biting my tongue, I stepped into the sitting room. This neat little room, the place where he presumably entertained what guests he received that did not possess roots, was done up in shades of blue, gray, and white. I spotted the writing desk instantly.
As I crossed to it, I answered over my shoulder. “You’ll weaken the structure of the house if you keep it so blasted humid in there.”
“I know. It’s only temporary. I’m in the midst of arranging to have them moved by the end of the month.”
Since he was so adamant to have a fiancée that he offered to pay a woman to fulfill that role, I was surprised he cared enough over the expense to fix his house to bother to change his habits. Couldn’t he throw quid at that problem, too?
I jerked open the drawer to the desk and located the ink, blotting sand, and pen. “I’d like to know why you didn’t turn one of the parlors into the library when you brought the plants into your house. Don’t you have estate business to which to attend? Or do you hand all that over to Nancy? I’m told she’s taken up work as your housekeeper when you can pry her out of the kitchen.”
Frowning, he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall next to the desk as I used a letter opener to break the seal on the envelope. I slid the pages out onto the desk and smoothed them, settling in to read.
Difficult to do when Edwin seemed determined to fill the silence.
“Nancy helps, yes, but it’s truly none of your concern how I handle my estate.”
I ran my finger down the page to track my progress, making a non-committal noise under my breath.
“And honestly, how do you know I didn’t turn one the rooms upstairs into a library?”
“You would have directed me there.” I flipped the page and read halfway down, noting the substantial sum of two thousand pounds to be mine when I completed this little charade he’d dreamt up. How many women might I employ with that sum? I’d have to find a means of sustaining the shelter yearly, perhaps by collecting donations, however it would do very well as an initial investment. If I chose a modest building and took care not to reach above my means, I might be able to sustain the shelter for two or three years on that amount.
I continued reading, flipping the page before I recalled the halfhearted conversation. Absently, I added, “Not to mention, you moved your books into your bedchamber.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
I bit my lower lip to hide a smile as I glanced sidelong at my companion. Edwin ran his hand through his hair, distressed. He ought to realize by now that if he wanted to continue with this farce, I would make him as uneasy as pretending to be in love with him would make me.
“The servants talk.”
“About the books in my bedchamber?”
I shrugged and started reading the last page. “You’re a rather boring master, Edwin. They have nothing else about which to gossip. Not to mention, they hoped you would bring home a lady and offer to show her your book collection.”
The smug smirk that spread across Edwin’s face made me queasy. Where was the gentle boy I knew? Brandishing the pen, I cut him off before he spoke.
“Ask me up to see your books and I’ll stab you with this pen.”
His lips flattened, as did the satisfied look in his eye. “Sign the contract, Mary.”
I examined the nib of the pen. Did it need sharpening?
“Bloody hell! The servants keep the pen sharp. Sign the contract before we die of old age!”
I glared at him. “The servants?” Since when did he speak of other people that way, as if they were fixtures?
Meeting my gaze, he crossed his arms, forbidding. “Do you want me to name every single person who has access to the pens?”
I lifted my chin. “Frankly, I’d be surprised if you could.”
“I only keep a dozen servants. I know their names.”
“Do you? Because you’re forgetting two. You have fourteen, including your grooms.” Turning away, I yanked the cork from the ink bottle and dipped in the pen. I scrawled my initials on each of the pages of both copies of the contract. At least he had had the foresight to make himself a copy as well.
After I signed the last pages and thrust the pen into his hand, he scowled and set about the same task. “Don’t lecture me about my staff. How I handle them is none of your concern.” He wiped the pen on a rag and blotted the pages with sand.
“No?” I raised my eyebrows. “Because you just signed a contract that states that should I be unable to make calf eyes at you for two weeks, it’ll very much become my concern, because I’ll be your wife.”
The word rang in the air between us, growing in potency the longer we remained silent. Edwin met my gaze, his face impassive. After he tested the ink to make certain the signatures wouldn’t smear, he stuffed one copy of the contract into the envelope and held it out to meet. He held it for a moment, our fingers brushing.
“This is a matter of convenience,” he told me, his voice soft. “Don’t turn it vicious.”
“Perhaps you haven’t been listening to our peers. These days, my sharp, vicious tongue is all I am.” I yanked the envelope from his hand and turned away.
I made it to the door before his words stopped me short.
“No, it isn’t. I have a mouser in the kitchen that proves otherwise, regardless of what you’d like people to believe.”
I didn’t want the men of the ton to believe anything about me, other than the fact that I and every other woman was their equal. Everyone, man or woman, deserved the same chances.
If I lost Edwin’s wager, I’d be no more than property to him in the eyes of the law. I wouldn’t let that happen.
Turning, I dipped in a polite curtsey, donning the role of obedient betrothed. “Goodbye, Edwin.”
He didn’t seem appeased. “We have a dinner engagement tonight with friends of mine. I’ll bring the carriage ’round for you at eight o’clock.”
I nodded my acknowledgment but couldn’t help but wonder what Nancy would think of this impromptu dinner when told. After all, she seemed set on preparing an elaborate meal for that evening.
How like an arrogant lord not to think of the concerns of the women who supported him. I didn’t need to wait the remaining thirteen days to know that however this arrangement turned out, our futures would be best spent apart. Edwin had changed—far too much.