High Stakes Chattel (10 page)

“What’s that?” she asked, trying to hide her disappointment. It would have given her so much courage to know he was there cheering her on.

“It’s a private foundation dedicated to the study of biology and diseases. It just opened two years ago and is named after Louis Pasteur. He’s an amazing scientist, who has made some of the greatest breakthroughs in modern medicine.” Nico’s eyes lit up when he spoke of Pasteur.

“
I am pleased to have the opportunity to work with him and the other scientists there. I want to share my discoveries with them and see if there are ways in which we can advance each other’s work.”

The passion and determination in his voice made Samantha feel petty. Why should he stay and watch her play a silly game, when he had so much to offer the world?

“I’m sure you’ll do great things there,” she told him, trying to banish her melancholy. “How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “Probably quite some time.
I regret that I won’t be at the tournament. Do you have a male relative or someone you trust who will be there if you need some protection?”

“Yes,” she lied. She had no intention of involving anyone else in her scheme. If anyone
were going to be arrested, it would only be her.

Nico gave her a suspicious look but did not press her. “
I’ll have John drive you home in the morning, but make sure to write me and tell me how everything goes.”

He reached
into his pocket and brought out a bag of herbs. “These are for your mother. It won’t counteract the degeneration of the brain, I’m afraid, but it will make her feel calm. Start with a small dose and if the results are positive you can increase to the full dose once a day.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate this… and everything else you’ve done for me.” Samantha stood
and excused herself, not wanting to let him know how much she’d miss him.

***

After packing her bags and getting ready for bed, Samantha sat staring out the window and contemplating the end of her time with Lord Chattel. Things between them seemed incomplete somehow.

Before she could
change her mind, she tiptoed down the hall and knocked on his door.

“Come in
,” he called.

She opened the door and found him lying in bed, reading. His beautifully sculpted chest was bare, golden in the firelight. The sheet was drawn up to his waist and she had no idea whether he wore anything at all beneath it. She swallowed dryly, stricken by the sight of him.

“Samantha,” he murmured, obviously surprised to find her there.

She
drifted toward him and sat down on the edge of his bed. They stared at each other for a moment and then she leaned forward, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, trying to show him how very much the last few weeks had meant to her. This kiss was completely different from the others they’d shared, filled with sweetness and emotion.

“Please don’t do this to me
, Sam,” he whispered, pulling slightly away.

She was surprised by his use of the nickname her family had given her
and how right it sounded coming from his lips.

“
I’ve tried so hard to resist you. It’s not only that I don’t want to take advantage of a woman seeking my help. I also don’t want to complicate things and give you expectations for a future between us.” His eyes pleaded with her. “Don’t you see that I can’t be what you need?”

“What do you think I need?” Sam
antha fought to keep emotion out of her voice.

“Not to be someone’s mistress
. Or, to be married to someone who spends the majority of his time working. It would only end in bitterness when I want to work and can’t give you the love and attention you want.”

Just the mention of
the word marriage made her heart skip a beat as she pictured it.

“
You deserve so much more than that.” He squeezed her hand. “And you deserve the chance to make your mark in the Chattel tournament. If any woman can do it, it’s you,” he said as he squeezed her shoulders.

She smiled, trying hard to hide her disappointment.
“You’ve already given me enough,” she said. She needed to stop pining for this man who was so far above her station. Obviously, she wasn’t good enough for him. The rest of his excuse sounded like hogwash.

She collected herself and lifted her chin.
“Thank you for helping me. I will think of you often.”

He lifted his hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll think of you, too.”

Biting her lip, she slid off the bed and strode to the door, determined not to look back. But when she reached her room, she cried herself to sleep.

***

When Samantha returned home, she found her mother resting so she went into town to speak with Jolene. After everything that had happened, she desperately needed her best friend’s advice.

Once they were comfortably ensconced in Jole
ne’s parlor, she told her everything. Well, almost everything. She left out the naked spanking part, unable to even imagine admitting such a thing to her friend.

“Oh
, my goodness. I’m not sure whether to think of him as a villain or a Greek God,” Jolene said, her eyes wide. “So, is that it? It is finished between you?”

“Yes,
” Samantha admitted regretfully. “It’s finished.”

“
Not to worry, Sam, you will find someone less complicated who would rather choose you over work. It’s only a matter of time. Before you know it, you’ll be madly in love. Probably with some Chattel expert that you beat at the competition.”

Samantha smiled at her friend’s optimism. Jolene was right, she deserved more.

“Now, let me show you the disguise I’ve come up with for you to wear to the tournament,” Jolene said, obviously trying to cheer her by changing the subject.

Jolene was not only a schoolteacher but also the designer for all the village plays, creating amazing costumes that transformed the actors into their subjects.
She was famous for taking material scraps that should be garbage, adding a little artistry and turning them into magnificent creations.

Glad to have something else to think about, Sam joined her friend in her bedroom, and dutifully tried on the boy’s outfit
Jolene had created. After Jolene adjusted the fit of the loose trousers, she also put on the long coat, mustache, spectacles, and cap.

Jole
ne clapped her hands together in glee. “Oh, my goodness, Sam! You really do almost look like a boy.”

Samantha went to the
full-length mirror on the other side of the room and inspected herself critically. “Almost won’t do. I have to really look like a boy or this will never work.”

Jole
ne bit her lip. “It will be far more convincing once we complete the last step.”

“Cutting my hair,” Samantha said, staring at her wild locks in dismay.

“Yes. Are you sure you want to do that, Samantha? You have such beautiful hair. It will take forever to grow back. What about Lord Chattel? Or other possible paramours?”

Samantha thought of how Nico had forever been tucking her hair behind her ear, his eyes filled with passion and tenderness. Resigned, she shook the memory away.
“Really, Jolene, that’s finished. I’ll probably never see him again. It’s time for me to take control of my own future and stop waiting around for a white knight. Get out the shears.”

Nico
stopped reading his notes and looked out the window of the steam train headed for Paris. Samantha would be preparing at this moment to go to the tournament, and he wished that he could witness her courage. Most of all, he hoped he had prepared her enough to win. He wanted her to be cared for and not to struggle through life. He wanted her to be able to help her mother while she was still living. If she didn’t win, he would find a way to give her the money himself.

He was glad to be on his way to the institute
, where he wouldn’t have time to think about her or to regret the choice he had made to let her go. He spoke the truth when he told her that he could never make her happy. Hopefully, she realized that he was right. What woman wants a husband who spends night and day inventing things or discovering cures? He needed a wife who would be happy to have him on her arm for the occasional party and content to spend the rest of her days spending his money in the shops. He tried to convince himself that was the kind of wife that he wanted.

His mind turned back to the tournament and he felt that familiar worry he’d been having since Samantha left.
He knew John would be at the tournament, but he still felt concerned. Perhaps he should have worked harder to discourage her plan. If she were discovered, who knew how the men would treat her? They may even brand her as insane or imprison her. It was hard to tell, since it had never happened before. One thing was for sure, she would never again be treated well by society and her life would be much more difficult.

***

Samantha spent the next two days in a kind of dress rehearsal in the town of Barkston. She wore her costume and walked around pretending to be a man, getting the feel of the walk, and talking to people using a low voice.

She walked as though she was still riding a horse, jaunty and slightly bow legged. She even went to church in the costume and pretended to be a man while praying to God for help and protection during the contest. She would definitely need protection from the wrath of the men in the contest if they discovered she was a woman.

To her relief, no one seemed to question her manhood. She’d learned that people were usually so self-involved that they tended to take things at face value. With a pang of longing, she wondered if Nico would be fooled by her disguise if she ran into him today. Somehow she doubted it. He struck her as someone who always looked a little deeper than everyone else.

On the morning of the competition, she took extra care with her costume, spending nearly an hour in front of her mirror before she finally deemed herself ready for the charade.

As she entered the great hall where the tournament was to take place, anxiety rose within her. Her hands were sweating as she went to the center table to register. What if she couldn’t even get through this first hurdle, and the registrar immediately saw through her disguise and ordered her from the building?

The minutes drug slowly by as she waited in line for her turn to register.
To her relief, the rotund man at the table just thrust the signup sheet in her hands without sparing her so much as a glance. With slightly shaky hands, she signed up as Sam Taylor, from Shropshire, a cousin to the family of Taylors who lived in Barrowby.

“One success down, several more to go,” Sam muttered to herself as she walked into the large hall. It was an open room with a lot of smoke and few windows. There were at least twenty tables with Chattel boards, and men everywhere milling about
, talking and laughing.

It comforted her to see all of the
Chattel boards, though none were as fine as Nico’s set had been. Boisterous challenges rang through the air as the men crowded in, waiting for the competition to begin.

Pretend you’re in Nico’s study
. She took a deep, steadying breath.
Don’t let anyone intimidate you. You’ve played with the true master.

A
t last a whistle blew to start the play, and she went to sit at her assigned table. While waiting for her opponent she looked through the crowd of spectators sitting in chairs on the sides of the room. There were no women, since women weren’t even allowed to watch the tournament, for fear they may get hurt if a scuffle broke out. To her surprise she saw John, Lord Chattel’s groom, in one of the chairs. He looked straight at her and gave her a little wink. She felt comforted to know that someone she knew would be silently cheering her on.

She was soon joined at the table by a young man who introduced himself as Joseph Brown. He was fair haired and pale, and probably younger than she was. He talked entirely too much, but she was grateful for all of his blabbering because she wasn’t forced to contribute to the conversation at all.