Authors: Mary J. Putney
The Bargain (14 page)
In spite of her resolution to be high-minded, Sally could not help adding, “But honestly, the thought of being related to her for the rest of my life makes the blood curdle in my veins.”
David frowned, but before he could reply a cool voice sounded from the doorway. “You need have no fears on that score, Miss Lancaster.” Lady Jocelyn entered the room carrying a newspaper. “Your brother and I have already discussed seeking an annulment, so your blood may continue to flow uncurdled.”
Sally flushed beet red, feeling horribly gauche. Unfortunately she'd always been better at attack than apology, so her wicked tongue spat out, “Splendid. If an annulment is possible, I presume David is in no danger from you.”
“Sally!” he exclaimed.
“Don't worry, Major,” Lady Jocelyn said with a maddening display of tolerance. “It's not the first time your sister has made such accusations. Her concern for you seems to have overstimulated her imagination.” She placed the newspaper on the table. “I thought you might enjoy catching up on the news. Excuse me for the interruption.”
David said, “A moment, please, Lady Jocelyn.”
Responding to the note of command in his voice, her ladyship turned her cool gaze back to her guests. “Yes, Major Lancaster?”
Sally had to admire Lady Jocelyn's bone-deep haughtiness. One could almost see invisible ranks of long-dead Kendals lined up behind her, all of them masters of pride and vastly pleased with their descendant.
David, however, was not easily intimidated. “Why are you two at daggers drawn?”
An uncomfortable silence fell, until Lady Jocelyn said, “Your sister has taken it into her head that I am a danger either to your continued existence, or possibly to her relationship with you. Apparently she enjoys seeing threats where none exist.”
Sally's precarious hold on her temper snapped. “ âThreats where none exist!' David, I hadn't meant you to know, but I had to force her to let you come here. Once she was in possession of her marriage lines, she was perfectly willing to let you die in that ghastly hospital, so you wouldn't trouble her selfish existence.”
David turned his dispassionate gaze to his wife. “Is that true?”
Jocelyn gave a reluctant nod.
Sally wasn't finished yet. “When she gave me the first quarter's allowance, I asked why it wasn't thirty pieces of silver.” She glared at her sister-in-law. “Your dear wife told me that silver was for selling people, and since she was buying, she paid gold!”
“Did you really say that?” David asked in astonishment.
Jocelyn's face flamed. “I'm afraid so.” Suddenly she looked more like a child caught in mischief than a proud lady with ice in her veins.
To Sally's shock, her brother burst into laughter. “Really,” he gasped as he attempted to collect himself, “I have never seen such foolish females.”
Both pairs of watching eyes grew frosty. Sally asked in a dangerous tone, “Just what do you mean by that?”
“You are two of the most capable, not to mention imperious, women I've ever met. Naturally you bring out each other's worst natures.” He shook his head in mock bemusement. “Whoever claimed females were the weaker sex didn't know you. All a poor male can do is agree quickly and hope to escape unscathed.”
“Don't believe a word of it,” Sally said acidly to her ladyship. “David is generally quite reasonable, for a man, but whenever he has an object in mind, one might as well wave the white flag immediately because he is going to do exactly what he wants, and the devil take the hindmost.”
“I have seen signs of that.” Jocelyn's mouth quirked up. “I believe that is the first time you and I have agreed on anything.”
Sally felt an answering smile tug at her lips. “What an alarming thought.”
David took his sister's hand. “Sally, I gather that because of the circumstances of our wedding you've assumed that Lady Jocelyn is my enemy, but she's not. If she had meant me ill, she could have allowed me to fall over the railing outside my bedroom last night, which would have made her a widow on the spot.”
Sally gasped as she envisioned the lethal drop. “You would have been killed!”
“My wits were wandering, and apparently I decided to follow them. Jocelyn pulled me clear and put me to bed safely.” He beckoned his wife forward, taking her hand as well. “During the worst of my illness, she tended me with her own hands even though we were almost strangers. She could not have behaved better had we been married twenty years.”
Incredulous, Sally asked, “You really helped nurse my brother, Lady Jocelyn?”
“Yes, though I'm surprised he remembers,” Jocelyn admitted. “He was out of his head for most of the time.”
Sally's mind snapped back to the morning of the wedding, when she had flatly refused all future help from Lady Jocelyn. Under the circumstances, it was hardly fair to blame the woman for not having thought of taking David into her home. Sally had been a thrice-damned fool. With effort, she forced herself to meet her sister-in-law's gaze. “I owe you an abject apology. What I said was quite abominable.”
The evil-tempered aristocrat of Sally's imagination would have rubbed salt in the wound. Instead, Lady Jocelyn said ruefully, “Yes, but you had considerable provocation. I should not have spoken as I did.”
Warily the two women regarded each other over the head of the man who still held both of their hands. Jocelyn broke the silence. “You have the most magnificent talent for causing me to lose my temper and say dreadful things. If my Aunt Laura had heard me, she would have sent me to bed without any supper for a month. Shall we pretend that the last week never happened and begin over again?” Smiling, she held out her hand. “Good afternoon. How nice it is that you could visit.”
Sally had been right in her previous speculation: Lady Jocelyn Kendal was irresistible when she unleashed the full power of her smile.
Smiling back, she took the proffered hand. “Good day, Lady Jocelyn. My name is Sally Lancaster. I believe you are married to my brother. So pleased to make your acquaintance.”
As the two women clasped hands, Sally silently thanked her brother for giving them the chance to start over. Already she could see that it would be much nicer to have Lady Jocelyn as a friend than an enemy.
Chapter 14
T
he cessation of hostilities was celebrated with tea and cakes. Now that they had decided not to be adversaries, Sally recognized the warmth under Jocelyn's cool manner. To her shame, she realized how much of her original bad opinion stemmed from her own prejudices. Being well-born didn't necessarily make someone selfish and cruel, any more than poverty created nobility of spirit.
he cessation of hostilities was celebrated with tea and cakes. Now that they had decided not to be adversaries, Sally recognized the warmth under Jocelyn's cool manner. To her shame, she realized how much of her original bad opinion stemmed from her own prejudices. Being well-born didn't necessarily make someone selfish and cruel, any more than poverty created nobility of spirit.
After an hour Lady Jocelyn excused herself, claiming obligations out of the house. Sally stayed with her brother a while longer, but rose to leave when she saw that he was tiring. “Did Dr. Kinlock say when he would come again, David?” she asked as she picked up her reticule.
“He'll remove the stitches in a few days, but otherwise he won't come again unless I have a relapse, which I have no intention of doing.”
Crossing to the bed, David didn't notice how her face fell. “Oh. How unfortunate. I . . . I never properly thanked him.”
“You can be sure that I did.” Her brother lay down, wincing a little. “He's an interesting man as well as a fine surgeon. I'll be sorry not to see him again, but he's not the sort to waste time on healthy people.”
“I suppose not.” She brightened as a thought struck. “I'll stop by his surgery to settle the account with him. He lives only a few blocks from Launceston House.”
“Lady Jocelyn has already taken care of what Kinlock assures me was an outrageous bill.”
“That doesn't seem right. We should pay it.” Sally bit her lip. “Though I would have to use the money Lady Jocelyn gave me.”
“I'm inclined to agree with you, but I'm not up to arguing with her at the moment. You may quarrel with her about the bill if you wish.” His eyes drifted shut.
She shouldn't be tiring him with trivial matters. “No more fighting. Besides, I find that I object to her ladyship's generosity much less now that I've made my peace with her.” She kissed her brother on the forehead. “I'll see you tomorrow afternoon.”
Sally turned left to Hyde Park when she exited Cromarty House. The Launcestons believed that during the summer the children should have lessons only in the morning, so she didn't need to return to work. She was very fortunate in her employers. Nonetheless, now that she had a choice, it was only a matter of time until she gave notice. There was much she had enjoyed about being a governess, but she was ready for something different. What, she didn't know.
Despite the beauty of the summer day, as she strolled through the park's green expanses she brooded about the sharp pang of regret she'd felt when David said that Kinlock would not return. Why had she reacted so strongly? Miss Sarah Lancaster was a paragon of the practical virtues, without a romantic bone in her body.
To be sure, she kept thinking of the doctor's powerfully muscled figure, the large hands that could move with such delicacy, but that was merely admiration for the surgeon's strength and skill. And while the image of his prematurely white hair and its contrast with his dark, shaggy brows kept recurring to her, that was only because his appearance was so striking.
She gave a snort of exasperation. Who did she think she was deceiving?
Her steps had led her to the Serpentine, so she found an unoccupied bench and gazed unseeing over the placid waters of the little lake. She was not in the habit of hiding from unpleasant truths, so she must face the fact that Ian Kinlock appealed to her in ways that had nothing to do with his remarkable skills. She liked the man. Liked his passionate commitment to his work, liked his rough tongue, and deuce take it, liked the way he moved, the quick, impatient strength of him.
She sighed. How typical that the first man to take her fancy since she left the schoolroom was so inappropriate. Ian Kinlock lived for his work. As David had said, he had no interest in healthy bodies. And even if he did, plain brown Sarah Lancaster was not the woman to distract him from the serious business of saving London from the Reaper.
Was that one of the reasons she had resented Lady Jocelyn, whose beauty and charm even the good doctor noticed? Sally twisted her gloves into knots as she realized that envy had contributed to her hostility. How disheartening to admit that one was not really a very nice person.
It had been gratifying to scorn Lady Jocelyn as a cold-blooded femme fatale, but based on the last few days, her brother's wife was superior in character as well as in looks. That flawless society beauty had cared for David with her own hands, even though he was virtually a stranger. It was a sobering lesson in not being ruled by appearances.
Sally flattened her gloves on her knee and tried to smooth out the wrinkles. Ian Kinlock might not find a plain brown governess attractive, but surely now and then he needed a friend. From what she had seen of his life, he continually took care of others. It was time that someone took care of him.
Rising from the bench, she tried to remember his schedule. This was one of his days at Bart's, and she had seen how exhausting that was. How might she help alleviate that?
A moment's thought told her exactly what to do.
When Ian Kinlock returned to the grubby little cubicle that was his Bart's office, he was so depleted he could barely open the door. After leaving Major Lancaster, he'd examined a roomful of hospital patients, followed by tragedy on the cutting ward as one woman had died under surgery. Another wouldn't last the night despite his best efforts. At times like this, he wondered why he didn't pursue a fashionable practice that wouldn't demand such reserves of emotional and physical strength.
As soon as he entered the room, he headed toward his desk and the locked whiskey drawer even though he knew that spirits were a damned poor antidote for what ailed him. He didn't realize that he had company until a light, feminine voice said, “You'll be able to drink more if you eat something first.”
Blinking, he turned and discovered that Miss Lancaster was sitting in the only visitor's chair. Setting aside the book she'd been reading, she lifted a basket. “I thought you would be hungry, so I brought some food.”
Bemused, he pulled out the desk chair and sat down. “At the end of a day at Bart's, I generally can't remember when I ate last.”
She handed him a meat pie still warm from the oven. The crust crumbled into rich flakes as he bit into it. Beef and mushroom pie. Delicious. He took another bite, and could feel strength returning. It was food that he'd needed, not whiskey. Nourishment instead of oblivion.
As she produced a jug of ale and poured him a tankard, he said, “Aren't you going to eat, too?”
“I was hoping you'd ask me to join you.”
Together they explored Sally's capacious basket. Besides meat pies and ale, she had brought bread, cheese, pickled onions, and warm peach tarts. All were excellent and designed for easy eating.
After finishing the last of his tart, Ian replenished his tankard of ale. “Now that I'm halfway human again, it occurs to me to wonder what you're doing here.”
Sally began to clear up the remains of the meal. “When David said you wouldn't be coming back, I realized that I hadn't properly thanked you for saving him.”
“I like thanks that take a practical form.” He smiled, more relaxed than he had been in weeks. “What you said at the time was quite adequate. I was just the instrument, you know. I do my best, but healing comes from a level beyond my skills.”
“I wouldn't have expected such a mystical statement from a man of science.”
“I may be a rationalist on the surface, but underneath I'm a wild, mystical Celt.” He surveyed her neat, well-groomed figure. “A respectable English lady like you wouldn't understand that.”
Sally closed her basket and got to her feet. “Watch whom you call English, laddie. My mother was Welsh, and as true a Celt as you.” She walked to the desk with a package. “I've wrapped the bread and cheese in paper so they should keep for several days. It wouldn't hurt your patients if you ate now and then.”
She was looking for a clear spot on the cluttered desk to put the food, not wanting the cheese to stain his papers, when her eye was caught by an envelope. Her brows rose as she read, “The Honorable Ian Kinlock.”
She lifted the envelope and tilted it toward him. “Sorry, I couldn't help seeing this. Are you sure you're a wild Celt?”
The surgeon actually blushed. She wouldn't have believed it possible.
“My mother insists on addressing me that way,” he explained. “My father is the Laird of Kintyre. My mother writes regularly to suggest that I give up this medical nonsense and come home to live like a proper Kinlock.”
“So you can slaughter helpless animals and gamble away your fortune?” she remarked, remembering what he had said the night they dined at the tavern.
“Aye, my brothers are a dab hand at that sort of thing. To be fair, none of them have actually gambled away a fortune, and they are very good fellows in their way. Two are army officers like your brother. But we're as unlike as chalk and cheese.”
“I can well imagine.” She was fascinated by this unexpected glimpse of the gruff doctor. “I should think that the gentlemanly life would cause you to perish of boredom in a fortnight.”
“Exactly. My mother has never understood that.” He sighed. “She is also convinced I'll succumb to the charms of some hopelessly ineligible female. Bless her, she assumes that all of her five sons are irresistible. She's never really accepted that I am out of leading strings, even though I've more white hair than my own father.”
“She sounds rather dear.”
“She is. Hopeless, but dear.” He tucked the food packet into a drawer. “Shall we go outside and find a hackney? I'm too tired to walk you home.”
Not wanting to be a burden, she assured him, “You needn't concern yourself. It's still light out, and I've lived in London for years.”
“I may have no talent for being a gentleman, but I certainly won't let a lady walk home in the dark.” He grinned. “Besides, you only live three blocks from me.”
“Yes, Dr. Kinlock,” she said demurely, though inside her pulse quickened at the prospect of more time with him. Just breathing the same air made her feel more alive.
“Call me Ian. Hardly anyone does anymore,” he said as he ushered her outside. “Sometimes I get very tired of being Physician and Surgeon Kinlock, one very long step removed from God.”
“Just as I grow weary of being Miss Lancaster, paragon of virtue and highly qualified governess.” She gave him a slanting glance. “By the way, what does a Sally look like?”
He chuckled as they stepped into the mild summer evening. “Look in the mirror, lass, and you'll find out.”
He flagged down a hack and handed her into it. As she settled on the dingy seat, she felt well pleased with her expedition. There was nothing loverlike in the surgeon's attitude and probably never would be, but he seemed willing to be friends.
As they rode through the London dusk, she unobtrusively studied the craggy face under the shock of white hair. He might be willing to accept her friendshipâbut would that be enough for her?
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