Gayle Buck (21 page)

“What am I to do, Papa? Tabitha did not seem the least bit discouraged when I told her that I could not do it. Indeed, she and Mr. Applegate were quite complacent at my refusal, for they seemed to think that it was but a matter of time before I acquiesced,” said Mary. “If it was only Tabitha, I would not be so perturbed. But Mr. Applegate seems to hold great sway over her and he is apparently not a gentlemen to be easily discouraged.”

“Aye, that is my concern as well. Well, I shall see what I can do about the matter, Mary. Applegate has a healthy respect for my opinion which is in direct proportion to the depth of my pockets. In the meantime, stand firm against them,” said Mr. Pepperidge.

“I mean to do so. Papa,” said Mary, laughing a little at her father’s matter-of-fact description of his son-in-law’s priorities. “In any event, I’m of no mind to trust my reputation to such a heedless pair.”

“Mind that you don’t. Tabitha is my own daughter, but I have never let that blind me to her faults. She has always been set on having her own way. Applegate is cut from much the same cloth. Wherever there is an opportunity for a quick profit, that is where you will find the fellow. ‘Tis a pity, but there it is,” said Mr. Pepperidge with a shrug.

The door was flung open and a youth impetuously entered. “Papa, I—” At sight of Mary, his face lit up. “Mary! I didn’t know you were here!”

Mary had risen at her brother’s entrance and she held out her hands to him. “William, how glad I am to see you.”

Instead of being content with a conventional greeting, he grabbed her up in a whirling bearhug. Laughing, she implored him to put her down. “I am a respectable lady, I’ll have you know, William!”

He set her on her feet then. “Aye, a titled lady! I had forgotten.” Instantly, he made a flourishing leg and kissed her hand. “My lady viscountess, your servant, ma’am!”

Mary snatched her hand free, again laughing. “Idiot! Papa tells me that you have given up on your schooling and have come to help him.”

William grimaced, throwing an impish glance at his father. “Aye; I don’t know that I shall be a
help
to him, however! Papa may wish me into the army yet.”

Mr. Pepperidge rose from his chair, a tolerant expression on his face. “So that is your plan, jackanapes. I warn you, I am not easily discouraged.”

“Don’t I know it, sir,” said William with an exaggerated sigh.

Mr. Pepperidge laughed. “I must return to the office, Mary. William, I shall leave you to enjoy this unexpected visit with your sister. But I shall expect you back at your duties within the hour.”

“Aye, sir,” said William. He held the door open for Mr. Pepperidge and once his parent had exited, he closed the door and turned to his sister. “Now, Mary, you must tell me how things go with you. I did not wish to speak frankly before Papa, but I wish you to know that if ever you have anything troubling you, you may rely upon me.”

Mary was greatly touched by his obvious sincerity. “Thank you, William. I hope, however, that I am sensible enough not ever to require your services.”

“Then you are happy?” asked William.

Mary shook her head, retaining her smile. “Silly, how could I not be? I am concerned only about Tabitha at the moment, and perhaps just a little about you. Do you really mean to apply yourself to the business?”

William grimaced. “It is dull going, Mary. I know that you cannot truly understand it, for you and Papa are cut from the same cloth. I would far rather make my fortune adventuring than doing so by counting figures. But I do not mean to complain. Papa has been very decent about my being sent down this term and—”

“Oh, William, no! You haven’t been sacked, have you?” exclaimed Mary.

He had the grace to redden. “Not precisely that. Oh, it was nothing so bad, Mary. Just a lark or two with my cronies, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” said Mary, not a shred of confusion in her expression.

William flushed a brighter shade. “It’s all very well for you, Mary! You have got what you wanted or you wouldn’t have accepted this viscount’s offer. Tabitha got what she wanted, though I think she could have made a better bargain than Applegate. As for Papa, I am sorry that I am a disappointment to him; but I have not the least desire to be shut into a building day after day, year after year. Papa likes it! He thinks it the most exciting thing imaginable to read those reports and deal with contracts and such. But I want something else. I want to see something of the world. I want”—He threw out his hands—”Oh, what’s the point? You would never understand.”

“What is your most ludicrous flight of fancy, William?” Mary asked quietly.

“Sailing the world, soldiering in foreign parts, seeing peoples strange to me,” he said promptly. He stared at his sister, caught by the odd smiling expression on her face. “You felt it, too, didn’t you, Mary?”

“Papa commented many times that I have a head for business and I, too, often wished that I could set sail on one of his ships. Unfortunately, I was born a female and however dear I am to Papa, it never occurred to him that I could be his successor,” said Mary.

“I-I am sorry, Mary. I never knew that you felt that way,” stammered William.

Mary laughed, reaching her hand to touch him lightly on the arm. “Pray do not think me to be weighed down with self-pity, William! On the contrary, as it has turned out I have attained an even more improbable wish.”

“You are talking about the viscount, aren’t you?” He regarded her with curiosity. “Are you really glad to have wed him, Mary?”

She was silent a moment, wondering how best to explain. “I tumbled in love with Lord St. John the first time I ever met him. I never told Papa, for it would have completely undermined his confidence in my sensible character. But imagine my feelings when I was informed by Papa that he had received an offer for my hand from his lordship. I, a mere tradesman’s daughter!”

        “His lordship is fortunate to have you,” said William gruffly.

Mary shook her head, smiling. “I hope that he comes to believe that, William.”

William’s countenance darkened. “Has he offered you insult, Mary? Or hurt you? For if he has, I shall take him thoroughly to task, I promise you! And so I warned him, if he so much as laid a hand on you.”

“What rot, William! Lord St. John is always a gentleman,” said Mary sharply. She relented at the look on her brother’s face. “I am sorry, William. But you mustn’t abuse his lordship in my hearing, you see.”

“Yes, I do see,” he said slowly.

She could not stand his searching scrutiny any longer and she said, “William, I shall talk to Papa, if you like. Perhaps he will relent and let you go into the army.”

William shook his head, a glum expression falling over his face. “You can talk all you wish, and with my good will. But Papa is adamant against it. He is afraid that I should be killed and it doesn’t do a particle of good to assure him otherwise.”

Mary could not stop the light laugh that escaped her. At her brother’s indignant look, she apologized. Nevertheless, she said, “But, William, you cannot give him that guarantee. There is a war going on.”

William snapped his fingers. “That for the war! I know that I should come out of it all right and tight, given the chance. But Papa always hedges his risks. That much I
have
learned!”

Mary laughed again, this time ruefully. “Yes, so he does. Still, I shall do my best for you. I do not wish you to fall into trouble for lack of something better to do.”

“Much more of figures and reports and I am likely to go mad for some scrape or other,” muttered William with a wicked grin.

“That is precisely what I fear,” retorted Mary. She stood up and started to put on her gloves. “I must go now. I have some shopping to do before I return.”

William recalled something she had mentioned. “What was it that you said earlier about being made anxious by Tabitha? Knowing our sister, she has taken some pea-brained notion into her head that will make us all uncomfortable.”

Mary shook her head, unwilling to disclose the particulars to her brother. He would only set about taxing their sister the next time that he saw her and that would only serve to set up Tabitha’s back. “Papa is seeing to it, so I shall not burden you.”

William whistled, for he had few illusions. “That bad, is it?”

“William, promise me that you will not say anything to her. You know what Tabitha is like when she is crossed,” she said.

“None better,” agreed William. “You need not look so anxious, Mary. I should think I’d know better than to thrust my spoke into Papa’s wheel. Whatever is the matter, I shall let him handle it without any interference from me.”

Reassured, Mary took affectionate leave of her brother. She had requested that the hackney wait for her and when she emerged from her father’s house, she immediately stepped up into it. Directing the driver to some fashionable shops, she settled back against the squabs.

Chapter 20

Mary made short work of making her purchases. She was on the point of reentering the hackney cab when she heard herself hailed. She glanced around and met the smiling gaze of a gentlemen who appeared faintly familiar to her. “Do I know you, sir?” she asked politely.

The gentleman bowed slightly, the smile curling his mouth in a more pronounced fashion. “We met at the ridotto a fortnight ago, my lady, but obviously my name escapes you. Lady Pothergill introduced us. Sir Nigel Smythe, my lady, at your service.”

He had taken possession of her gloved hand and pressed a light kiss onto its back. Mary was keenly embarrassed by her failure to recognize the gentlemen, while his overdone salute made her uncomfortable. She withdrew her hand from his grasp. “I do apologize, Sir Nigel. I am afraid that I have met so many personages of late that I do not always recall every name. Are you an acquaintance of my husband, Lord St. John?”

Sir Nigel bared his teeth in a half-smile. “Yes, indeed. The viscount and I are very well acquainted. I have found his lordship to be a most worthy opponent at the card table. Perhaps Lord St. John has made mention of me?”

Mary smiled, shaking her head. “I do not believe so or certainly I would have recognized you at once.”

Sir Nigel put up his brows. The expression in his eyes was politely incredulous. “Never tell me that you pay particular attention to his lordship’s circle, ma’am! It is far more the fashion to pretend complete indifference to a spouse’s friends or interests.”

“Then I am outside the fashion, Sir Nigel,” she said, still smiling. She did not particularly care for the gentlemen’s mode of address, which was both familiar and faintly condescending. “I do hope that you will excuse me, sir, but I am in a rush to return home.”

“Of course, my lady. What am I about to keep you standing on the pavement? I had not noticed before that you had so many packages. Let me hand you in.”

Before Mary knew it, she had been handed into the carriage and settled on the seat with her packages. She was rendered speechless when Sir Nigel followed her inside and knocked on the wall to let the driver know to start. The hackney gave a lurch forward just as Mary found her voice. “Sir! I do not believe that I invited you to share my cab.”

“The invitation existed only in your lovely eyes, Lady St. John, but I flatter myself that I am too seasoned not to understand it when a lady looks just so,” said Sir Nigel.

“Then you flatter yourself too highly, sir, for nothing existed but what you conjured up in your own imagination,” said Mary with asperity. “I will thank you to exit this carriage immediately.”

Sir Nigel appeared to give her request a moment’s rumination. Then he shook his head. “I cannot possibly do so, for that would leave you quite bereft of an escort. A lady does not jaunt about London in common hackneys without even a maid with her.”

“I do not need your escort, sir, I assure you,” said Mary quite coolly. “It is not at all the thing, as I very well know. We are but the slightest of acquaintances, after all.”

“I hope to become much closer in your affections very shortly,” said Sir Nigel.

The look in his eyes suddenly made a frisson of foreboding race up Mary’s spine. She sat up very straight and her eyes did not waver from his smiling face. “What can you mean by that, sir?”

His glance slowly appraised her. He shrugged. “I think it need not be spelled out, my lady.”

Mary threw herself toward the door, a scream tearing from her throat. Rough hands dragged her backward and threw her against the squab. Sir Nigel’s weight imprisoned her. She stared up into his face, which was very close. There was a hard light in his eyes. “The driver will have heard me,” she warned.

Sir Nigel laughed softly. His breath feathered her skin and she involuntarily flinched. “The driver received a small remuneration for becoming deaf for a few minutes, my dear Lady St. John.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Sir Nigel eased his weight slightly as he reflected upon the question. At last he said, “Shall I say simply that I intensely dislike the viscount? His lordship once beggared my pride. I thought merely to return the favor.”

“I shall not make it easy for you,” she stated.

“My God, you’re a cool one.” Sir Nigel brought up a hand and traced the curve of her cheek. She jerked her head away from his touch, but he merely followed her movement. “Relax, dear lady. It will all be over quite, quite soon.”

Mary fought, then. His first attempt to possess her mouth backfired as she jerked away, the hard rim of her bonnet cracking against his nose. He swore and caught her chin cruelly in his fingers. His mouth crushed hers, driving her lips against her teeth. She felt his hand at her throat, pulling aside the front of her pelisse. Her mouth was abruptly freed and she gave a sob of relief. Then in horror she felt his lips descend to the bare skin just above her breast. She renewed her struggle, pounding him with her fists. His heavy legs imprisoned hers, but strangely enough he did not attempt to slide her skins up.

Mary was marginally aware when the hackney slowed. Suddenly she was freed. She scrambled upright, putting as much distance between herself and Sir Nigel as possible. That gentleman sat across from her very much at his ease, smoothing his hair. It was as though he had never forced his attentions on her; at least, until she met his malicious smile.