The Bartered Virgin (6 page)

He was hateful! But at the moment he had the upper hand. It was either humiliation or death. “Yes, yes and yes. Now please, my fingers are slipping.” And they were. But the instant her tired arms gave up, David was there. In one fluid movement he was on the branch beneath her, one strong arm around her waist.

Her position meant her head was in very close proximity to his trousers. Of all the things she expected to pop into her head at that moment, realizing there was nothing but a layer of serviceable fabric between her mouth and David’s manly…
appendage
was not one of them. She buried her face in his crotch. The material felt warm against her cheek. A pleasant pungent aroma emanated from the area.

She heard David gasp. “Darling! Now is hardly the time. At least wait until we’re on the ground. Behave while I unloop your leg from this branch.”

In seconds she was free and sitting upright on a branch. Her hair was mussed, Tip’s shirt was torn and her skin itched from bits of bark and leaves that had fallen into the collar.

“Ready to go down yet?”

Winn shook her head. “Please let me rest at bit and catch my breath. While I do, you have to tell me why you’re here. I wasn’t expecting you until tonight.”

He chuckled softly. “Obviously. I’ll give you this much, my dear, your planning was perfect if not your execution. I was on my way back from your father’s office and thought Tip might be available for a little carousing.”

“Tip has no money for carousing, as you put it. He borrows from me. And I wouldn’t let him have any if I thought it was to show you a good time.”

“Believe me, Miss Percy, what I’ve been through this afternoon I could not have bought and paid for anywhere else.”

“Must you turn everything into a joke?”

“Your youth and inexperience would prohibit your understanding.” Instead of sarcasm, a biting harshness entered his tone. Seriousness replaced the amused twinkle in his eyes. Winn seized the opportunity to gain some insight into his character.

“Try me. If I’m to be your wife then I deserve to know something about you. I don’t, you know. I know nothing about you, except your avarice.”

“Keep that censure up and I’ll throw you down myself,” he warned. “As it happens, I have promised your family to treat you with kindness and decency—even if I do think your red hair harbors a streak of madness. In return I expect nothing but that you fulfill your father’s obligation. So far you have delivered deceit, disobedience and—,” he said as he paused to rub the back of his head, “—physical violence upon my person. Has it occurred to you that you might like being Lady Wolshingham? And has it also occurred to you that ladies do not fondle their future husbands in trees? Come now, what was that nudge all about?”

She gave him her most insolent stare. “You have the most convenient way of turning the conversation away from yourself.”

“I thought I was not your favorite topic of conversation.”

Winn stared down at her hands. Hesitation would not earn her a quick exit. “I’m…curious,” she confessed.

“Knock me down with a feather. Of course you are. If there’s one thing I have come to understand about Americans, it’s their ignorance. Rather it’s the ignorance with which they send young girls into the world. If you’d waited until this evening, I’d have patiently answered all your questions.”

Her own patience was wearing thin. “All right. Answer me one question, then we can get out of here. Since my mother is likely to return at any moment, I don’t want to have to explain this.”

“Very well.” David sidled up in front of her on her perch. Making sure they were both secure he took one of her hands and placed it on the button seam between his legs. “Is this what you want to know about?” he asked softly. His eyes bored into hers.

Winn wanted to back away from him but was flat against the tree trunk. Her breath felt like she was wearing a tight corset. Her fingers burned as he held them against him. She swallowed before answering.

“It’s very warm down there and—oh, my goodness, did you feel that? It moved.”

He leaned closer to her. “Do you know why?”

She nodded. “Of course I do. I read the book again last night. It’s a…cock. Although I can’t for the life of me figure out what your…your p-penis has in common with a rooster. Good heavens, it doesn’t sprout feathers, does it?”

His face suddenly changed. The deep smokiness of his eyes turned to amusement. He began to laugh so hard that he threw his head back and banged it on the branch above them.

“Fuck! That’s the second time this afternoon.” David rubbed his head but continued to chuckle. “Does my language shock you?”

“Not at all. Stop laughing at me and let’s get out of this fucking tree if you’re not going to answer my question.”

“All in good time, my darling Winn. All in good time.”

He helped her down and recovered her carpetbag. They started up the front stairs when the unmistakable sound of Mrs. Percy’s voice came from the carriage halting in front of the house.

“Mother! Hurry, I can’t let her see me.”

“Fear not, dearest, in you go.” He couldn’t resist giving her bottom a forceful tap. “I’ll delay the good lady.”

“The bag. Give it to me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell her I borrowed it from Tip and I’m returning it.”

“Thank you…David.” She smiled at him and ran inside.

He stood on the porch looking at the closed door. She called him by name. And that smile. Earned from the face of an urchin. At that moment David didn’t care how much money she had. She was his and he was going to have her. For both their sakes, the sooner the better.

“Hurry, Winnifred,” her mother’s voice urged from the downstairs hallway. “It’s nearly seven-thirty. David will be here to collect you at any moment.”

Winn yelled back from inside her bedroom. “Yes, Mama.”

Somehow the prospect of this evening’s supper didn’t seem as foreboding as it had last night. She supposed it was partly due to her relief that Mother knew nothing of today’s escapade. And partly to her feeling genuinely thankful David had saved her life. Perhaps there was merit in his character, after all. The thought did occur to her that if she had fallen out of the tree and died he wouldn’t have to marry her. But then, there would be no money. So it really was in his best interest to save her. Maybe she shouldn’t be so thankful after all.

Winn accepted a shawl from Margaret, who fussed and primped over her carefully-constructed Gibson coif. “Tell Mother I’m nearly ready.” Winn needed to get the maid out of her room so she could retrieve the book from under her mattress. Once Margaret had gone downstairs, she slipped the book out of its hiding place and wrapped it in her shawl.

The gown her mother chose was a rich satin of shell pink-and-white stripes. The thin shoulder straps bared more than Winn was comfortable with but the white evening length gloves gave the impression of being less bare than she felt. The bodice was dipped a little lower for evening and bordered with a tiny row of lace tatting. Yards of satin were gathered behind and draped over a modest bustle. A matching beaded reticule completed the outfit.

She heard the doorbell chime. Her mother’s ringing voice sang up the stairs.

“David, do come in. How handsome you look this evening.”

Winn knew the drill. She was never to descend until after company arrived. Then she could float down the staircase in some
nouveau haute couture
confection her mother had paid a fortune for so her guests could gasp in awe and compliment Mary on what a beautiful daughter she had and what excellent taste she possessed.

Luckily there was only David tonight. And, for some reason, Winn hoped she would inspire that same admiration in him.

“Who dressed you in that hideous rag?” he snapped once they were in his carriage.

She turned to him, ready to retaliate. But he cut her off.

“And don’t tell me how much it cost or that it was inspired by Worth. It looks like a dozen other frocks I’ve seen hanging off any number of Southampton dockside whores. Really, with all your father’s money, you’d think they’d turn you out better than this.” He waved his hand over her figure. She was sure if he were a magician, she’d be instantaneously changed by his gesture.

“You insolent cad! If you think you’re going to spend the evening doing nothing but insulting me then you can turn this carriage around. I’ll not be seen at Delmonico’s with you!” She folded her arms across her breast and stared out the carriage window.

“You’ll not be seen at Delmonico’s with me anyway. We’re dining at my hotel.”

“What? My mother chose this dress specifically because Mrs. Astor is going to be at Delmonico’s this evening. Mother expects us to appear in the Ward McAllister column when the
Circular
comes out this week. What am I going to tell her?”

“Tell her the truth. That Lord Wolshingham with his centuries-old title considers it beneath him to be seen in the company of
nouveau riche
Knickerbockers. Believe me, she’ll understand.”

Winn gave him a venomous stare, unwilling to let the insult to her class go undefended. “What about my father? Where do you consider him in your snobbery?”

“Lovely Winn, your father is a solicitor and, as such, is considered only fit for knighthood. He and his kind are barely tolerated on the outskirts of the aristocracy, similar to politicians. A necessary evil these days.”

“I doubt President Roosevelt would share your opinion.”

“Dearest, your darling Teddy is a warmongering scamp.”

“That’s treason!” she cried.

“It’s merely an opinion, hardly treason. Old Georgie lost that war long ago. And good riddance. A more backward country I’ve never seen. Why, in barely one hundred years of so-called
freedom
from England you’ve managed to nearly tear yourselves apart.”

She jumped on him immediately. “We have electric lights and telephones.”

“Slight condolences for the remaining widows and orphans of that conflict or for the parents of the young men whose bodies lie buried in Cuba.”

Winn stopped for a moment. She remembered—barely—an argument between her brother and Papa when Tip wanted to follow Roosevelt and his Rough Riders. Such a romantic adventure it had sounded at the time. But Papa, as usual, made the right decision when he packed Tip off to Harvard. Her own beloved Tippy might right now be lying in an unmarked grave in some heathen country. The best defense she had to offer was a mere slight sting.

“And how is King Edward enjoying the company of Mrs. Keppel these days?”

“Bravo!” he clapped. “You do read the newspapers. And speaking of reading, did you bring what I asked?”

Winn lifted the edge of the shawl on her lap to expose a corner of the book.

“Excellent! There is hope for this evening. Ah, here we are. Trust me, Winnifred, the second floor dining room has some of the most excellent cuisine New York has to offer. And later, we’ll each have the opportunity to sample some luscious tidbits.”

Winn brightened at the thought. “Desserts! Oh, how I love them but Mother forbids them as she says they’re bad for the figure.”

“Indeed. The dessert I had in mind can also be bad for the figure, if one is unlucky.”

“Is that a riddle?”

But the carriage stopped before she could wheedle an answer from him. As usual, all she got for her efforts was a mysterious wolfish grin.

“This is lovely,” gasped Winn as she gazed around the dining room. True, the linens were sumptuous, the china gleamed off the candlelight, the silver was polished to a shine and the crystal sparkled. It was as good as any table her mother set.

David glanced at the menu. “Egads, woman! Twelve courses. I could feed all my tenants for a month on this.”

“Lillian Russell and Jim Brady dine like this every night.”

“I hope you’re not bragging. I’ve seen photographs of them. Fat as cows. We serve a more modest meal in the country. You’ll see.”

Winn played with a corner of the napkin in her lap, wondering if they could ever have a conversation where they agreed on something. She tried a different tactic. “Knightsbriar intrigues me. Tell me more.”

David ordered a bottle of wine to start them off. “When Henry VIII demoted Anne of Cleves to sisterhood, she lived out her days between four country houses she received on the dissolution of her marriage. The original Knightsbriar was one of them.”

“Then I shall live in the palace of a queen!” she exclaimed.

“Not too starry-eyed, dearest. When Anne died the estate fell into disrepair. The house was mildly resurrected and the land later became part of a parcel of homes in which to squirrel away poor Queen Charlotte. After she left, it was uninhabited for quite some time and then eventually felled by fire.”

“It seems Knightsbriar has become a refuge for unwanted wives,” Winn said teasingly. “I shall be in quite distinguished company.”

David said nothing but waited for the waiter, who had arrived with the wine, to fill their glasses. When the man was gone, David lifted his glass. “A toast, Winnifred. To unwanted wives.”

Winn warily lifted her glass and touched the rim to his. She stopped and placed her glass back on the table. “I shall not drink to such a toast.”

“You have one of your own, then? Something less truthful but more fitting?”

“I shall say, to the salvation of Knightsbriar. This is one queen who will not be content wiling away her days tatting by the fireside.”

“Hear, hear. I had hoped you would breathe life into the old place. Ah, the delicacies have arrived. Care for a truffle? No? Olives? Foie gras? No?” David helped himself and continued. “When Victoria, God rest her soul, came to the throne, the Earl of Wolshingham—my grandfather—was in the market to build a country home and, since the stone foundations remained intact after the fire, he gutted what was left of the walls and rebuilt it as Knightsbriar. Unfortunately, he had not completed the outbuildings at the time of his death. He leased parcels of land to tenants who repaid him a healthy sum at the end of the year, along with a decent harvest. Knightsbriar became a paying operation.” He wiped his mouth with a linen napkin.

Winn was glad David didn’t follow the current trend of long handlebar mustaches most young men fancied. In fact, the more she gazed at him in the muted candlelight, the more she thought his features handsome. She took another sip of wine. “What happened?”

David sat back in his chair and sighed. “Well, not to put too fine a point on things, my father was a scoundrel.”

“Ah, so that’s where you get it.”

David scowled at her airy comment. “Hardly. As a boy I had a typical English upbringing. Private tutors, picnics with Victoria’s grandchildren, country house weekends, shooting parties, the Grand Tour.” He sounded bored by his privileged upbringing.

“What brought you to America?” she asked.

“My grandfather was here during the War of 1812 and a few times since. He thought America ‘rustic and charming’ and rugged enough to initiate a young man into adulthood. Harvard was hardly rugged. You’d be surprised how much of this country I’ve traveled. San Francisco, Houston, Atlanta and, of course, Boston. But I missed Knightsbriar and my grandfather terribly. He died just before I left for university, you see, and I thought to honor his memory by continuing the education he wanted me to have. It turned out to be my biggest mistake.”

Winn saw the downward turn of his beautiful mouth, the sadness that pulled on the corners of his eyes. She wondered how she would feel if she had been forced to attend Miss Spence’s Secondary School For Girls after the loss of her parents.

“You haven’t told me about your mother,” she said softly, trying to revive his mood.

“Died in childbirth,” he said simply.

“Oh, I am terribly sorry.”

“Yes. So am I. I believe that’s why my father packed me off to my grandfather so early in life. My mother was a beautiful woman. There is a portrait of her at Knightsbriar. She had lovely raven black hair and piercing blue eyes. The staff says Father went mad staring at that picture. He drowned himself in whiskey and indulged in extremely bad behavior. It got worse after my grandfather died. When I returned to England I discovered my father had all but bankrupted Knightsbriar before his death.”

“And this is where I now enter your life.”

“Yes,” he raised his wine glass once again. “To the beautiful salvation of Knightsbriar.”

Winn couldn’t decide what part of the dedication was true. Certainly she was the salvation, but beautiful? It was the first time he had ever spoken of her with anything but scorn. The first moment he regarded her with any affection.

“What is your fancy, Winnifred? A thick steak? A fat bass? A rack of lamb? No one prepares a steak like the Texans, you know. Huge damn things. Keep a man in the privy for days.”

“David! Keep your voice down. People will hear you.”

“What people? Cornelius Vanderbilt over there? The Morgans dining in the middle of the room? The Guggenheim clan who came in behind us? Shall I go over and intrude upon their party?”

Winn felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment. “Oh, no! You can’t do that here!”

“And why not, my little patron of etiquette? Because we haven’t been properly introduced inside the hushed, dark canyon of some
nouveau riche
club by an abstract acquaintance? Come, now. These people have left their comfortable homes and gone out of their way to observe our every movement. I think it’s only fair that we give something to talk about inside their closed carriages.”

Winn plucked at the fingers of her gloves as she considered David’s words. It was true, he had excellent breeding and would probably feel more comfortable dining in some great room in the familiar surroundings of his manor. But here he had absolutely no city sense at all.

“What could they have to talk about? Everyone knows who you are and that we’re getting married.”
Everyone knew but me.

“Ah, and that’s the point, my dear. Their curiosity, or boredom, has gotten the better of them. They want to see what a real English nobleman looks like, how he dresses and acts. How he treats his fiancée in public, for instance. We will be gossip fodder for the tea-and-petit-fours set for days. Now you see why the important people aren’t at Delmonico’s. They’re here. So let’s have a little fun with it. What say you, my Titian beauty?”

Winn’s gaze darted around the room from table to table taking in the collected wealth; their furs and beaver hats, the ladies’ satins and silks, the not so covert glances toward their table and most disturbing of all, their whispers behind the defense of candelabras and jeweled fans.

Sneaking around in disguise with Kitty was one thing, but now she was in the open and subject to scrutiny. Any misstep tonight would reach her mother’s ears before morning and then she would hear nothing but whines and cries of “What will the
Circular
say?” On the other hand, the rudeness of these people with their overt staring and gawking made Winn uncomfortable to the point of rebellion. Who were they anyway to judge her and David? She nodded to David, her decision made. “I’m in for a penny if you are.”

David winked and motioned her from across the table. “Now, I shall let you pick the target.”

Winn felt a small flame light up inside her. They were going to have some fun, together. David had already proved his discretion. Of course, he knew the stakes as well as she did and had more to lose. Perhaps that’s why she let him talk her into being a little naughty. She perused the dining room for their target. The Astors and Vanderbilts, reflecting their opposing sides in New York’s society wars, sat at each end of the room. The Morgans’ table was moved to the center as their assorted family members had taken sides years ago.