The Bachelor Bargain (Secrets, Scandals, and Spies)

by Michaels, Maddison

  Sebastian’s whole body went rigid and what could only be a look of horror swam across his face. “Good God no, woman. Your godmother is seventy if she is a day.”

  Livie shrugged. “She’s sixty-five, actually. But what else am I to think when you blithely mention your lack of female companionship to only then mention my Aunt Demelza?” She was having a surprising amount of fun teasing him.

  A reluctant spark of wry amusement crept into his eyes. “Well, you can be assured that my need for female companionship is not so dire. But I do believe we can strike a bargain.”

  Livie felt her heartbeat kick up a notch. Whether it was in anticipation of his pronouncement or the shock of discussing such taboo subjects, she wasn’t certain. But, nonetheless, excitement was coursing through her, and every time her eyes glanced to his a sizzling awareness ran through her. “You’ll agree to my proposal to fund the gazette?” She paused as a sudden suspicion gripped her. “What are your conditions to do so?”

  “You’re a clever lady, aren’t you,” he commented, slowly rubbing at the stubble along his jawline. “And yes, I do have conditions before I will agree to your proposal.”

  “I’m listening,” she said, even though the foreign thought of suddenly wanting to rub her own fingers through his stubble had come unbidden to her. “Though I warn you now, if it has anything to do with your earlier suggestion about your lack of female companionship and me assisting with that, then my answer shall be a resounding no.”

  “A shame, but not unexpected,” he quipped with a shrug. “But no, it has nothing to do with that. What I require from you is to get your godmother’s agreement to sponsor Charlotte in Society. And perhaps you might teach her some etiquette lessons while you’re at it, too. Then, once the Dragon Duchess agrees to sponsor her, I will invest in your gazette.”

  Suddenly, Livie’s euphoria vanished. Getting Aunt Demelza to sponsor any young lady, let alone the half sister of the Bastard of Baker Street, who apparently needed etiquette lessons, was going to be all but impossible. Aunt Demelza wasn’t secretly called the Dragon Duchess for no reason. The majority of Society thought she ate debutantes for breakfast, and Livie didn’t think they were too far off the mark.

  Her aunt was the arbitrator on who was and who was not accepted in Society. Colver had done his research well in that regard. “From what I’ve gathered, you despise Society. Why would you want your half sister to become part of that world?”

  “She is soon to turn eighteen, and I intend for her to marry well and have a life of luxury,” he blithely answered. “Marrying into Society will give her that.”

  Livie was speechless for a moment. “Do you not think your sister will want to have a say in all of that?”

  “She’s too young to know what she really wants.”

  “That’s rather arrogant of you, Mr. Colver.” Livie had spent the majority of her life having her father and brothers try to tell her what she should and shouldn’t do. It was suffocating at times. “I’m sure at eighteen you wouldn’t have considered yourself too young for anything.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t, and I wasn’t. By eighteen I was already running the Rookeries. However, I’ve had an extremely different childhood to that of my half sister. Thankfully, she has for the most part been kept away from the darkness that surrounds my own life, but because of that, she can be too trusting, wanting to believe the best about people. A trait it seems she may share with you.”

  “A compliment, Mr. Colver?”

  “No, Lady Olivia. Quite the opposite.” He shrugged. “Naive optimism is a trait that will get you killed in my world.”

  Livie didn’t know quite what to say to that. “I suppose it’s lucky then that I don’t inhabit your world.”

  “Exactly why I don’t want Charlotte to, either.” He sighed. “I know she won’t like being told what to do, but it will be in her best interests. Though, let us be clear, no one is to know she is related to me. I will not have her reputation tarnished through any association with me.”

  There was merit to what he said. Society could be a cruel beast, and if they knew Charlotte was the Bastard of Baker Street’s half sister, it was doubtful they’d ever accept her, even with Aunt Demelza’s sponsorship. “What about my godmother, though? How can I expect her to sponsor Charlotte without telling her the truth of her relationship with you? I will not lie for you, Mr. Colver.”

  Sebastian shrugged. “I don’t care what you say to your godmother, as long as you don’t tell her I am Charlotte’s half brother. It’s a secret I’ve done my best to protect for years, and I won’t have some duke’s daughter who is on some sort of self-righteous quest for revenge against the gentlemen of Society disclose that secret to anyone. Are we clear?”

  “Crystal,” Livie replied, not particularly liking how he’d described her, even if it was mostly accurate. She wouldn’t lie to Demelza; she’d just have to find a way to skirt the subject.

  “I’m serious,” Sebastian reiterated. “I will not have my sister placed in any danger because of being related to me. If you disclose our relationship to anyone, I will bankrupt your brother and ruin him.”

  “My brother?”

  “Yes, your brother, the future heir to the dukedom, Alexander. The one I assume from whom you heard about me, otherwise why else would you be here?”

  Yes, Livie knew from eavesdropping on her brothers that Alex had had dealings with Sebastian, and was in fact now in business with him, which was how she knew he’d be an excellent choice to bankroll the gazette. Though now she was second-guessing that. His ruthlessness was something she’d anticipated, but dealing with it in the flesh was quite another thing. “You don’t have to threaten me. I shan’t tell anyone.”

  “Good. Then we are in agreement?”

  He really was serious about marrying his sister into the nobility. And, unlike most who sought to elevate their station through marriage, he obviously wasn’t doing so in pursuit of a title for his sister. “You really want her to marry a gentleman and be part of a world you loathe? When you’ve spent a great deal of your time bankrupting the sort of men you’re now seeking her to marry?”

  “I don’t intend for her to marry a scoundrel, which all of the men who lost their fortunes to me were.” Sebastian shook his head, the gray of his eyes seeming more intense as the sunlight began to dwindle from the room. “Like you said, there are some men who are honorable, rare though they are. She can marry one of them.”

  “Why do all of you men seem to think marrying is so very easy and matter-of-fact when it’s anything but?”

  “In your world, Lady Olivia, marriage is a business transaction, pure and simple. And money talks.” His voice was like whiskey washing over Livie with an intensity that burned. “I shall put up enough of a dowry to make her the season’s richest heiress. Say thirty thousand pounds?”

  Livie nearly lost her balance. Thirty thousand pounds was a fortune and would ensure a husband.

  “With my money and her looks,” Sebastian continued, “she’ll have her pick of the lot of them, after, of course, you use your resources to ensure she chooses a man worthy of her, who has no skeletons in his closet. And you assist her with her manners.”

  “You’ve mentioned manners before.” Livie was beginning to wonder what sort of girl Charlotte was. “Is she lacking in them then?” It was a fact that might either assist in getting Aunt Demelza’s help or detract from it. And most likely the latter, as Aunt Demelza had little tolerance for anything these days.

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Sebastian replied. “She has manners when she wants to use them. Her father is a doctor and has brought her up properly, though he has allowed Charlotte to accompany him and work at his surgery in Cheapside attending to the poor on a regular basis since she was a child. Hence, she’s often surrounded by the lower class, and her language can reflect that when she gets angry and voices her d
ispleasure and opinions about things. What she needs is to be taught how a lady is expected to behave, rather than just the daughter of a poor city doctor. She’s a quick learner. It shouldn’t take you long to teach her such things. You or even your godmother, I care little who teaches her, only that she behaves properly to attract a husband.”

  “You have it all figured out, don’t you?” Livie couldn’t help the note of annoyance from sounding in her voice.

  “Yes, I do. Well, after you mentioned etiquette lessons, that is.” The man grinned in response. “Really, the idea sprung from your very words, Lady Olivia.”

  The cad.

  Livie arched her brow. “You do realize that if she marries into the aristocracy, you’ll probably never see her again. Are you prepared for that?”

  “Securing her future happiness is more important than my wants. Besides, I rarely see her now as it is, so it matters little.” He shrugged in an offhand manner, but the tightness of his jaw belied his nonchalance. “I’ve always believed the less she has to do with me and my world, the better. Which is why I’ve kept Charlotte’s relationship to me a closely guarded secret. Because if you hadn’t already surmised from your research, it’s hazardous to be around me. People tend to die. Something you’d do well to remember.”

  There was no artifice in his words, just a cold, hard bluntness that gave Livie pause. He really did believe that to be the case. “So, if I somehow manage to miraculously convince my godmother to agree to sponsor your sister in Society, and your sister is taught how to behave properly in such an environment, regardless of her wishes on the matter, you in turn will agree to my proposal and fund the gazette as a silent partner? And I do mean silent, for I’ve heard how you like to take an active role in all your investments.”

  His mouth twitched very slightly at the corners. “How else am I meant to ensure their success but to take a firm hand in my investments?”

  “Well, you shan’t be taking a firm hand with me or with the gazette.” Livie placed a hand on her hip and glared up at him. “Are we perfectly clear?”

  “Perhaps a firm hand is exactly what you need, my lady.”

  And before Livie knew what he was about, he took two strides over to her and lowered his head until it was but an inch from her face.

  Her heart kicked up a notch and she breathed in the woodsy scent of his cologne and had to grip her cane handle tightly to stop herself from stumbling. Goodness, he smelled good. It was rather off-putting. She hadn’t expected him to smell so clean and enticing.

  No man had ever made her feel this sort of breathless anticipation before. It was intoxicating. “I need no man. My hands are firm enough on their own.” Thankfully, there was only the very slightest quiver in her voice. “Are we in agreement then?”

  His mouth unfurled in a small smile, while his scar twisted with the action. “Get the Dragon Duchess to agree and then yes, we will be able to strike a bargain, you and I.”

  She pulled out an envelope from her reticule. “In that case, you shall need to look this over.”

  “Another of your letters?” He made no move to take it from her but looked at the paper with skepticism.

  “No. This is the actual contract for our bargain. You shall have to amend it to include your terms, but otherwise it is fairly straightforward.” Livie walked over to his desk and placed the envelope down on the mahogany surface. Distance from him was what she needed at the moment.

  “You brought the contract with you?” He raised a brow. “That was a bit optimistic of you, was it not?”

  “You’ve already complimented me on that very trait, Mr. Colver.” Livie smiled, knowing full well it hadn’t been intended as such. “Now, I shall return as soon as I have my godmother’s agreement, which I expect to be by the end of the week, if not sooner. Do have your pen at the ready to sign the contract, for you shall be needing it very shortly.” With an incline of her head, she nodded to him before turning to the door.

  “Lady Olivia?”

  His deep voice stopped her in her tracks and she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Yes, Mr. Colver?”

  “You’re playing with fire making a deal with me.” His eyes were pinning her own, his words unrepentant with a deep promise. “You do understand that, don’t you?”

  “I’m about to brave the Dragon’s den for you, Mr. Colver.” Not that her Aunt Demelza was a dragon to Livie, at least not most of the time, but he didn’t need to know that. “And considering I also intend to burn the reputation of many bachelors to the ground, I believe fire is exactly what I’m after.”

  And with that she turned on her heel and walked from the room, her cane a constant companion as she made haste through the door, keeping her head high while hoping against hope she was prepared for what she was getting involved in.

  For she feared the sort of fire Sebastian Colver could create might just burn all in his path. Livie most of all.

  Chapter Five

  The chimes from the wall clock struck with precision; two exact bells to signal the hour of the afternoon that Livie’s godmother would deign to begin to allow others to pay calls upon her.

  And, as expected, as she did precisely at two o’clock every day, Aunt Demelza appeared at the top of the staircase, the rich emerald velvet of her day dress perfectly complementing the green of her eyes and the accompanying jewels adorning her decolletage and inlaid along the handle of the cane she held in her right hand.

  Demelza glided down the stairs, her cane moving swiftly next to her, in perfect timing with her gait. Though her aunt did occasionally use the device to assist her to walk, she used it far more as a weapon to swat away any who dared to annoy her. Which was rather often.

  Livie saw the moment that Demelza’s gaze swept down the stairs and landed on her, and though she didn’t miss a step, Livie saw the speculation in the woman’s expression. Probably because Livie had only just visited the other day, so to be visiting again clearly meant there was news. And her aunt loved nothing more than news.

  Stepping from the last step onto the marble tiles, Demelza raised a perfectly manicured black eyebrow, the lines on her forehead crinkling ever so slightly as the piercing green of her eyes honed in on Livie’s with the precision of a general.

  “My dear girl, what an unexpected pleasure to see you again so soon, though I note you have still not taken my advice to stop wearing that hideous color.”

  There was a note of censure in the older woman’s voice as her eyes wandered down the length of Livie’s black garments. The tone of her voice would terrify most, but Livie had become very used to it over the years, and most particularly in recent weeks as she’d continued to ignore Demelza’s advice on the matter and insisted on wearing black cloths to mourn Alice, even though it was technically only Alice’s immediate family who were required to.

  “Good afternoon, Aunt. Lovely to see you again, too. And, yes, as you perfectly well know, I intend to wear black until I find the wretch responsible for Alice’s death.”

  “You are an impertinent gal,” Demelza said, her lips pursed and her chin tilted at just such an angle as to appear highly peeved, but Livie could see the twinkle of amusement in the woman’s gaze. After all, there was nothing her honorary aunt loved more than a person disagreeing with her, it was just most were too afraid to dare do so. “You are lucky you are my goddaughter. Otherwise, I should indeed let the Dragon loose.”

  Livie laughed. “’Tis lucky then indeed.”

  Demelza harrumphed though couldn’t conceal the smile that dragged up the corners of her lips. “Come. We shall talk in the sitting room.” She strode over to Livie, her cane clipping next to her on the marble floor, and then slipped her hand in the crook of Livie’s elbow before leading her across the entrance hall and into the sitting room.

  Both of their canes made similar noises as they struck the floor on their journey to the sitting room. Not for t
he first time, Livie was reminded that she walked like that of a sixty-five-year-old.

  Is that what Sebastian Colver had seen when she’d walked into his office the other day with her cane clumping along next to her? A woman with the gait of an old lady, hobbling, albeit swiftly, into his office? The thought was especially depressing. He’d probably been horrified by her limp, as most gentlemen were. Though, in retrospect, Colver hadn’t seemed bothered at all by it, not to mention he wasn’t actually a gentleman, either. Perhaps he was different from the other men of her acquaintance.

  Of course he was different. He was the Bastard of Baker Street; there was no man in London more different than he.

  “So, what is it you’ve come to ask of me?” Demelza inquired, interrupting her thoughts of Sebastian.

  “Why would you think I have something to request of you?” Livie replied, though she shouldn’t be surprised Demelza already knew that. Her aunt had always been especially perceptive, not to mention having a very good network of gossip she was privy to. One of the reasons she was so effective in intimidating others—she knew everyone’s business. A handy trait for someone who dictated the goings-on in Society.

  “Well, don’t you?” Demelza said, as she guided Livie into the room, which was furnished with a rich blue rug and two crimson lounges seated across from each other in the center of the room. The room itself was elegant and refined, yet exuded an air of one best not dare touch anything inside.

  Much like its owner, Livie supposed.

  “Well…yes, I do have something to request of you,” Livie replied as she sat down on the settee across from her aunt and then adjusted her leg and skirts. “You don’t actually know what it is, do you?”

  “I’m not a mind reader, my dear, as much as some of those buffoons in Society like to believe.” Demelza, too, sat and adjusted the skirts of her gown, placing her cane by her side, in a manner mirroring Livie.