The Bargain (27 page)

Her newfound father turned to her. “If you are going to be kissing young men in the forest—” Bolton began but then stopped.

Birds twittered unconcernedly in the ensuing silence.

Ariel took a deep breath. With the sense of taking a long step into the unknown, she answered, “Then I had best marry… him.”

“Ah.” Her father looked oddly satisfied. “That's settled then?” He looked at Lord Alan.

The latter nodded strongly.

Bolton rubbed his hands together like a man who has finished some ticklish task. “You will be married from Ivydene.”

“I'll ride up to Wells and get a special license,” Alan declared.

Daniel Bolton's hazel eyes glinted. “Fortunately,” he replied with what was obviously a great deal of enjoyment, “I have already requested one from my old friend the bishop. It will arrive tomorrow.”

The two young people stared at him.

“You will allow me the great joy of standing up with you, I hope?” he said happily to Ariel.

***

The wedding of Ariel Bolton of Ivydene Manor, a woman who hadn't existed a week ago, to Lord Alan Gresham, sixth son of the Duke of Langford, was a small affair, attended only by the bride's father and a few servants.

It did not lack excitement, however. For just as the vows had been spoken and the clergyman had given them his final blessing, a commotion outside the windows drew most of those present to look out.

In the stableyard, a man in livery was climbing down from a lathered, exhausted horse. The rider looked worn out himself, but extremely determined.

“Isn't that a royal courier?” wondered Daniel Bolton. “What can he be doing here?”

A muffled curse escaped Alan.

“What can he want?” wondered Ariel.

Without answering, Alan strode out of the room. In a moment he reappeared outside and approached the courier. The sun drew bright copper tints from his hair and glinted on the buttons of his blue coat. His movements had such ease and strength, Ariel thought. She watched him speak briefly with the messenger, and then the man handed over a sealed envelope before heading for the kitchen and some refreshment.

Alan returned to the house. Ariel waited for him to come back to the parlor, and when he didn't appear, she and her father went in search of him. They discovered him finally in the study, frowning over an unfolded sheet of paper.

“What is it?” said Ariel, fearing some catastrophe.

“Nothing wrong in your family, I hope,” added Daniel Bolton.

Alan raised his eyes from the page. “The ghost is back at Carlton House,” he informed them with obvious irritation, “and the prince is… agitated.” He took another sheet of paper from the envelope that lay before him on the table and scanned it quickly. “The man I left in charge there says it cannot be the actors. They have been under close watch.” His frown deepened as he read on.

“What is it?” said Ariel.

“The incidents are growing more serious,” he replied. “A footman was pushed down the stairs by a ‘ghostly' hand and broke his leg. And there have been other things as well.” Putting down the page, he sighed. “I am commanded to leave at once and deal with this matter.”

“I'll go and pack,” said Ariel, starting to turn.

“There's no need,” Alan told her. “I shall have to ride. The coach will be too slow. You can stay here, if you like, and visit with your father until I can settle this.”

“Of course I am coming with you,” she protested.

“I shall ride with the courier,” he pointed out. “You couldn't keep the pace even if we had a mount for you.”

Knowing this was true, Ariel bit her lower lip. “Hannah and I will follow in the carriage then,” she declared.

“I would rather you stayed here,” said Alan. “These recent incidents sound… disturbing.”

“Do you intend to leave me practically at the altar?”

Daniel Bolton looked from his daughter to her new husband, hesitated, then silently slipped from the room.

“I believe that expression refers to those who do not show up for a wedding,” Alan replied dryly.

“You know what I mean. How can you think of leaving me?”

“It is for your own safety and—”

Ariel turned toward the door once again. “Hannah and I will set out as soon as we are packed,” she said.

“I see.” He let out a breath. “There is nothing more to be said in that case. And I have no time for arguments. I must be on the road.” Brushing past her, he left the room. Moments later she heard his voice in the stableyard calling for his horse to be saddled.

Was this what it meant to be married to him? Ariel's fists clenched tighter. Had she made a terrible mistake?

She unclenched her fists. She had known this marriage was going to be a challenge, she reminded herself. She couldn't abandon hope so soon. Straightening her shoulders, she went to find her husband.

He had already packed a small kit, she found. And his horse stood saddled and ready. The royal courier had reappeared and was telling the stableboy that he would pick up a fresh mount in Wells. Most of the household stood about as if watching a performance.

“There you are,” said Alan.

Where else would she be, Ariel felt like saying, but she didn't. At least it seemed he hadn't been planning to go without saying good-bye.

“I'm sorry for this,” he added.

“So am I.”

The courier swung up onto his horse.

Ignoring the circle of curious eyes, Ariel went over and put her arms around Alan's neck. She had an instant's anxiety when he seemed to hesitate, but then he pulled her tight against him, every line of his body pressing into hers. “Damn the regent,” he whispered.

She raised her head to look at him, and he kissed her—a public kiss, not one of those that made her think her knees would give way and she would never catch her breath again. When he drew back, he looked distracted, already elsewhere.

“I must go,” he said.

Reluctantly, she let go and stepped back to allow him to mount. “We will be in London by the end of the week,” she told him.

He merely nodded and, with a small salute to the others, wheeled his horse toward the gates. The courier followed, and soon the sound of hooves was fading on the lane beyond.

***

It was three hours later that Ariel sought out her father to tell him good-bye. She found him in his gardens, standing very still amid the fragrant herbs.

The traveling carriage stood in the stableyard at the side of the house, the team of horses tossing their heads and stamping.

“It's time to go,” said Ariel. “And there are so many things we haven't had the chance to talk about.”

“You will come back and visit, I hope.” He took her hand. “I don't intend to lose you again.”

“Of course I will.”

“If there is anything I can do to help you, you need only ask,” he added.

“Thank you.” She looked around the fragrant garden regretfully, and then they turned to walk together to the carriage. Hannah was already inside, and Ariel climbed up to join her.

“Little Ariel,” said Daniel Bolton, retaining possession of her hand for a long moment. Finally, he stepped back, and the driver gave the team the signal. They leaned into the harness, and the coach moved across the cobbles and through the gates. Ariel hung out the window to wave until Ivydene disappeared among the trees.

The coach clattered through the cobblestone streets of London and pulled up before the high old house that Ariel had inherited from her mother. “There are lights in the parlor,” Ariel told Hannah. Alan, she thought, her pulse speeding up despite the fatigue of the journey.

But when they went inside, they found not Alan, but the other three Gresham brothers who were resident in London. They came surging into the entryway when the front door opened and set up a glad cry of welcome. “I told you it would be tonight,” said Lord Sebastian. “Pay up, Robert, you owe me a guinea.”

Ariel looked past them for Alan, but he wasn't there.

“Open the champagne,” Sebastian added, ushering them into the parlor where an array of bottles had been set out and obviously sampled rather freely already.

“Stand back,” said Nathaniel. “Give Ariel the armchair.”

“A toast,” cried Sebastian, filling a tray of glasses. “To our new sister—our first sister, as a matter of fact.”

The brothers jostled for position but finally all raised glasses together and saluted her.

“Alan told you?” she said.

“He did,” replied Nathaniel.

“About time, I thought,” said Robert.

“And I should like to say that we are all very glad,” added Nathaniel with a certain solemnity.

“I hear you can trace your ancestors back further than ours,” teased Robert.

“Good thing,” murmured Sebastian.

“You are glad that I have family credentials?” wondered Ariel, a bit offended at this exhibition of snobbery.

“It doesn't matter a whit to us,” said Nathaniel quickly. “But it will to a great many people. And so, it makes things… simpler.”

“What things?”

“Social things,” continued Nathaniel. “People's opinions.”

“Nat should know,” commented Robert. “He's become a positive paterfamilias. You'll be happy to hear, Ariel, that he's now the terror of Violet's entire family. He's got them bowing and scraping and tripping over themselves to grant his smallest wish.”

“Robert,” objected his oldest brother. “You exaggerate things out of all proportion.” But there was a gleam of satisfaction in his blue eyes.

“Ariel,” put in Sebastian. “I am an engaged man. Lady Georgina has accepted me.”

“And twenty disappointed suitors want his head,” added Robert. “Stedding's trying to find an excuse to call him out, and Sinjin Lawrence is threatening to put a period to his own existence if she don't reconsider.” Suddenly he jumped. “Here, where did you come from?”

Prospero, who had materialized near one of his shining Hessian boots, now wound around his leg. “He's looking for scraps,” said Ariel.

“He's looking for my boots,” complained Lord Robert, moving away from the cat. “I swear that animal is uncanny. You arrive, and here it is. And we thought it had run off or been killed. It was as if he knew you were gone and wasn't coming round till you returned.”

“My father has a cat that looks just like him,” said Ariel, staring at Prospero. He raised one paw and set it on her shoe, as if to remind her that she had not offered him a single tidbit. “Ptolemy?” said Ariel experimentally, even though she knew it was foolish. Prospero simply looked at her with his fathomless golden eyes.

“We're to be married down at her family's place in September,” commented Sebastian, sticking to his point.

“I'm so glad,” answered Ariel.

“We can get in some hunting while we're there, eh?” said Robert. He poked his brother in the ribs. “That way it won't be a complete waste of time.”

“If you're invited,” retorted Sebastian.

For a moment Robert looked disconcerted.

“Oh, I won't stand up without all my brothers,” Sebastian assured him. He grinned. “We'll even make James set foot on land for a few days. And I'll order starched collars for the lot of you.” Sebastian lifted his glass. “To all of us settled men,” he said. “And to Robert, who's next.”

“Bite your tongue,” commanded Robert. “You won't get me to the altar for twenty years yet.”

“Says the man who spends three afternoons a week studying Akkadian,” teased Sebastian.

“I've found I'm rather interested in the subject.”

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. Sebastian jeered openly.

“Where is Alan?” Ariel managed to interject.

Robert waved a hand. “Camped out at Carlton House looking for this ghost. It's turned nasty, you know. Prinny's having an apoplexy. We told Alan we'd keep an eye out for you in the meantime.”

“Did you?” replied Ariel, in a voice that made Nathaniel's head jerk up. “And what did he say to that?”

“Doesn't say much of anything these days,” was the unsatisfactory reply. “And if he does, he's liable to bite your head off.”

“Really?” Ariel set her jaw. “We'll see about that when he gets home.”

“Won't be coming home,” Robert informed her. “Said he'd be at the regent's for the duration.”

“What?”

“Has to finish this thing,” continued Robert. “It's a dashed nuisance, you know.”

“Oh, yes,” said Ariel. “I know.”

Robert caught the nuances of her tone at last, and became suddenly aware of the looks passing between his brothers and the uneasiness of the atmosphere. “What?” he said.

“Alan always did become completely engrossed in any task he began,” offered Nathaniel.

“Single-minded,” agreed Sebastian. “Devilishly hard to get his attention sometimes.”

“Really?” responded Ariel again with a glitter in her hazel eyes that made all three brothers sit back.

***

Night had fallen by the time the Gresham brothers could be persuaded to end the celebration and take their leave. Ariel went up to her room, but she made no move to change out of her traveling dress. Instead, she went through her luggage, picking out a few things and putting them in a small cloth bag. Then she redonned her bonnet and, taking the bag, went down to the entryway. At the front door, she hesitated. She had to tell Hannah she was going. There would be an embarrassing uproar if she just disappeared. But she was not going to tolerate any arguments, Ariel determined, holding her head high as she went to knock on the door of Hannah's bedchamber.

The older woman was just beginning to prepare for bed. “I am going out,” Ariel told her firmly. “I do not know when I will be back, but you needn't worry.”

“At this time of night?” wondered Hannah, taken by surprise.

“Yes.” Ariel tried to escape, but Hannah followed.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

Biting her bottom lip, Ariel debated about her response. “Carlton House,” she said finally, deciding on the truth.

“Ah.” They had reached the entryway of the house by this time, and Hannah's shrewd gaze took in the small bag sitting beside the door. “How are you going to get in?”

“What?” Ariel had expected objections about the lateness of the hour or her destination, but not this.

“You can't just walk up to the front door and knock,” said Hannah. “It would cause a fuss.”

Ariel closed her eyes on a vivid image of this scene.

“And don't they have guards about?”

Probably more than ever, Ariel acknowledged silently. She remembered the way Alan had stationed men about the place when they were hunting the ghost earlier. “I have to go,” she insisted.

Hannah looked at her, then frowned. “I know the prince's butler,” she said. “We're from the same village.”

Ariel's spirits revived. “Would you… would you write him a note?”

Hannah shook her head. “That's no good. They might refuse to give it to him.” She paused again, seeming to consider the situation from all angles. “I'll go with you,” she said at last. “If I ask for him, they'll fetch him.” She turned back toward her room, moving quickly now. “We'd best hurry, though. The prince most often keeps his staff up late, but we can't be sure.”

“Hannah,” said Ariel.

The older woman stopped and turned.

“Thank you.”

The answering smile was surprisingly impish. “Do him good,” she said, and she was gone before Ariel could respond.

***

They approached Carlton House from the back, going up the path to the servants' entrance. They were stopped twice by men watching the place, but Hannah got them through each time, partly by her manner and partly by her appearance, which seemed to remind both guards of some formidable female relative.

As promised, when she inquired for the butler they were admitted and taken to the huge kitchen, which was far from empty despite the hour. “Wait here,” Hannah said, indicating a shadowed corner, and she stepped forward alone to meet a tall imposing figure in black.

After a cordial greeting, the two conferred inaudibly. Ariel saw the man glance at her more than once, and his face showed a variety of reactions—from disapproval to surprise to what seemed to be ironic appreciation, though of what she didn't know. In the end, Hannah returned to say that all was settled. “He'll send someone to show you the way,” she told her.

“Thank you,” said Ariel again. Even if she had managed to sneak in, she realized, she never would have found her way to Alan through the maze of Carlton House. “You have been very kind to me,” she added, referring to far more than tonight.

“He never was like the other boys,” was the oblique response. “I could see from the time he was a baby that he'd have a different sort of life and would need something different to be happy.”

On impulse, Ariel hugged her. “I'm going to see that he gets both,” she said.

The twinkle that she had seen before appeared in Hannah's eyes. “Will he, nil he,” she replied. “Go along now. I'm ready for my bed.”

***

Five minutes later Ariel stood before a paneled door in a dim corridor. As requested, her guide had left her there, and now she listened for sounds inside the room she faced. There were none. The silence was deep and impenetrable. What should she do? she wondered. Knock?

Now that she was actually here, Ariel was assailed by doubts about her plan. She had intended to confront Alan and tell him very forcefully that this was not her idea of a marriage. But as she stood in this huge silent house, the task seemed somehow larger.

Putting out her hand, she gently tried the door handle. It yielded easily. She opened the door, giving thanks for well-oiled hinges, and peered in. The chamber was dark, but enough light filtered in from the corridor to show her it was empty. Noting the location of a candlestick on a side table, she slipped in, shutting the door behind her, and went to light it.

That done, she heaved a sigh of relief and put her bag on a chair. She took off her hat and smoothed her hair, then turned to examine the place where Alan had been staying.

There was little sign of him in the large ornate room—a few personal possessions scattered over the flat surfaces. Mainly it looked like an anonymous chamber in a grand house where the owner's taste ran to the florid and overblown.

Ariel took another deep breath. It was good he wasn't here, she thought. She could get her bearings and be exactly positioned when he did arrive. She looked around. There was an inlaid writing desk on one wall, with a carved chair that didn't look very comfortable. There was a wardrobe in the far corner, between two windows over which the curtains had already been drawn. And directly opposite her, there was a large canopied bed.

Ariel swallowed. It was not as large as her mother's bed, she thought, and then flushed at the associations that idea brought.

Turning, she opened her bag and pulled out a bundle of creamy silk, which she shook out and held up before her. It was a nightgown, the one she had planned to wear on her wedding night.

Moving quickly now, not wanting to be caught, she undressed and put on the gown. Then she loosened the pins in her hair and let it fall about her shoulders. Trying the wardrobe, she found that there was a mirror inside the door, and she examined herself critically in it. The folds of silk fell onto the floor around her bare feet. The scooped neckline of the nightgown showed off the curve of her breasts. Her skin glowed against the pale material, and her hair floated around her face. It was an image to entice a man, she told herself. She had not spent years with Bess Harding for nothing. But as Ariel climbed into the large bed, she noticed that she was trembling. She settled against a pile of pillows, pulling the coverlet over her feet, and set herself to wait.

The candle burned down. The night deepened. Despite all her resolutions, Ariel grew drowsy. She had been traveling for days, and fatigue was taking its toll.

She didn't want to be asleep, and shook her head to clear it. She wanted to be awake and ready when he walked in. But as the minutes ticked past, it got harder and harder to keep her eyes open and to resist the impulse to slide completely under the covers and give in to oblivion.

At last, just when she thought she would have to surrender, she heard a soft click. The door opened a crack. Ariel sat straighter watching the small opening. No one appeared. There was an ominous pause, long enough for her to begin to worry, then the door crashed back against the wall, making every nerve in her body jump, and Alan appeared in the doorway holding a pistol. “Who's there?” he demanded. “Show yourself!” He moved the pistol back and forth, covering the entire room. His eyes were darting from one corner to the other, taking in the lighted candle and the clothing laid over a chair.

“Alan?” said Ariel in a voice that quavered from reaction.

His implacable gaze came to rest on her where she lay in the shadows. His grim expression shifted slowly to astonishment. “What the devil are you doing here?” he said.

This was not the greeting she had imagined.