The Bachelor Bargain (Secrets, Scandals, and Spies)

by Michaels, Maddison

  “Then how did you know I have something to ask of you?”

  “It’s practically written all over your face, my dear. A trait you really should learn to master, as people will take advantage of you if you do not.” Demelza glanced beyond Livie to the doorway where a maid was standing, carrying a tea tray. “Good gracious, Mary, stop standing there and bring the tray in!” she exclaimed to the hesitant maid, who was bowing her head so much that the cap she was wearing nearly completely covered her face. “You know how I cannot abide cold tea.” She motioned the girl in, who swiftly but carefully crossed the room before placing the tray on the coffee table in front of them and then scurrying from the room.

  “It’s so hard to get good help nowadays. She’s new, so do forgive her.” Leaning forward, Demelza poured them both a cup of tea, then handed Livie the steaming brew perched daintily atop a porcelain saucer. “Well, come on then, gal. Out with it. What do you wish to ask of me?”

  Demelza clearly wanted to get straight to the point, and though Livie had thought of little else all night except how to broach the topic of sponsoring Sebastian’s sister, she’d come up with little to assist. Of course, it hadn’t helped that every time she thought of the matter, images of the man himself kept intruding. “How interested are you in taking on a particular project?”

  “A particular project?” Demelza took a dainty sip of her tea, her eyes peering across at Livie over the rim of the teacup. “What sort of particular project?”

  “The sort I doubt anyone else would be up to the task of…” Livie let her voice trail off, knowing that such a statement should at least pique her aunt’s interest.

  “Go on.”

  Yes, Livie, go on. Sighing heartily, Livie continued, “Well, now that I think upon it, I fear it may even be too difficult for you…”

  “Too difficult for m-me?” Demelza spluttered before regaining her composure and raising an eyebrow with just the right touch of affront and curiosity that Livie knew she’d injured the old lady’s pride. “My dear girl, nothing is too difficult for me if I have a mind to do something. It is simply whether or not I have a mind to do it! So out with it. What is this thing you question whether I could do?”

  Livie paused, more for deliberate effect, as Demelza did thrive on the dramatic. “Well, the thing is, I have a friend who wishes to have his half sister marry a gentleman.”

  “And what, pray tell, is the great difficulty with that?” Demelza enunciated with volume. “Don’t all men wish for their sisters to marry a gentleman?”

  Feeling another sigh was warranted, Livie exhaled heartily. “They’re not from Society, you see. Her father is a doctor, and though a very noble profession, he does treat the poorer classes in his surgery in Cheapside, so he is not very well-to-do. And apparently the girl herself requires a few lessons in etiquette…”

  Demelza blinked in rapid succession. “How on earth would they then have the contacts or the blunt to afford a season, let alone secure the matrimonial hand of a gentleman?”

  “Oh, money is not a problem,” Livie was quick to reassure her. “Her brother is extremely wealthy and has endowed upon her a very sizable dowry. All he needs is a sponsor for the girl. A sponsor who would ensure no one would rebuff or give her the cut direct. A sponsor with such a reach and reputation in Society that none would dare offend the girl for fear of incurring her sponsor’s wrath. Though I really don’t know if there’s any such person in London who could ensure the girl was accepted regardless of her humble background…”

  Demelza’s eyes narrowed upon Livie. “Don’t think I don’t know what you are doing, my girl. You know perfectly well I command such respect. And to question so is ridiculous.”

  “I don’t know, Aunt.” Livie shrugged. “For the last two seasons Lady Rutherford has sponsored the year’s most sought-after debutant, garnering her somewhat of a reputation for being the arbiter of who is to be the diamond of the season. Society seems to be looking to her now for matters relating to debutants.”

  Her aunt’s eyes narrowed further and she harrumphed aloud again. “Lady Rutherford wouldn’t know a diamond from a glass stone. It was sheer darn luck that that woman managed to sponsor those two girls in successive years, both of whom had sizable dowries and came from the gentry. There is no conceivable way Lady Rutherford would be able to launch a girl with such a humble background as you speak of into Society, regardless of any past successes. I, however, would be able to, if she of course had a sizable dowry to overcome such a hurdle.”

  “Her dowry is thirty thousand pounds.”

  For a moment, Demelza’s mouth hung agape, until she seemed to remember herself and snapped it closed. “That is a king’s ransom. Who is this brother of hers who could afford such a sum?”

  “No one of importance,” Livie assured with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “He is simply an associate of Alexander’s who trades the stock market and has made a small fortune for his efforts.” She really wasn’t lying to her aunt. Colver was in fact an associate of Alex’s and he did trade his companies on the stock market, and though he’d made much more than a small fortune, he’d made a small fortune at some point in time, before it grew to the behemoth that it now was. And though she knew Sebastian was a very important man, in Demelza’s world of titles, a bastard really was of little importance.

  “If he’s offering thirty thousand pounds for her dowry, the gal must not only need etiquette lessons, but I gather she must be rather unfortunate in her appearance. Am I correct?” The expression in Demelza’s eyes was all but expecting Livie to agree.

  “Actually, I’m told she’s rather attractive.” Not that appearances should matter, but in Livie’s world they did. Although, even a woman who was not necessarily considered pretty could still at least secure a husband with a large enough dowry, as long as she had no limp. No. Such a thing in a young lady was simply unacceptable to the gentlemen of her world, who would not stand for their wife to have a disability of any kind, no matter the woman’s appearance, dowry, or connections.

  Livie had learned that truth the hard way.

  “You’re told?” Her aunt exhaled a sharp breath. “Do you mean to tell me you haven’t actually met the girl?”

  “One would think it shouldn’t matter what a lady looks like.”

  “You know very well it does, young lady!” Demelza huffed as she grabbed her cane and smacked it onto the floor.

  The effect was lost against the rug underneath their feet and Livie had to work hard not to grin. “Yes, well, I suppose even someone with your clout would not be up to the task of turning a girl into the most celebrated of the season, regardless of her looks. I did warn you it would be too difficult a task, even for you.”

  She could see the annoyance oozing from every pore of her godmother, who hated to hear she was unequal to any task.

  “Pfff,” Demelza scoffed. “Society will think she’s a diamond of the first water if I deem it so. Just you wait and see.”

  “Excellent.” Livie finally allowed her smile free rein. “Then you agree to sponsor her.”

  “Don’t think I don’t know exactly what you just did, you impertinent gal.” Demelza raised the cane and pointed it across at Livie. “Thinking to use my vanity to manipulate me into agreeing…” Slowly, she dropped her cane and returned Livie’s smile. “Well, it has worked, which clearly illustrates that the lessons I have been imparting to you over the years about how to get others to do your bidding have been successful. Clever girl.”

  Livie laughed. “Very successful indeed, Aunt.”

  Demelza shook her head and sighed, though Livie could see the pride shining from the woman’s eyes. “I’d best meet this girl then, to assess exactly what I have taken on board. At least the girl’s father is a doctor, which is a respectable profession, even if he does choose to use his skills treating the less fortunate in such a disreputable area of London. In any ev
ent, hopefully she shouldn’t be too difficult to teach manners to.”

  “You intend to take on that task as well?” Livie was glad of it, though she did feel somewhat sorry for Charlotte already; Demelza was nothing if not a very hard taskmaster. And proper etiquette was one of her most favorite things.

  “Yes. Who better placed than I to do so,” Demelza stated with complete certainty. “If I am to sponsor her, then I must ensure she will represent me with the utmost decorum.”

  “Quite right, Aunt. Under your tutelage, she shall shine.”

  “Hm,” her aunt replied. “Bring her to me at twelve o’clock next Monday.”

  “Twelve o’clock?” Demelza never accepted visitors before two, not even Livie.

  “Yes.” Demelza tapped her cane on the floor again. “How else am I to assess her and begin her lessons if I have other callers coming to visit?”

  Without warning, the door to the room burst open and Etta ran through, her bonnet perched precariously on her head, her chest heaving as she came to a screeching halt in front of them.

  Chapter Six

  “Good gracious, Miss Merriweather, has someone died?” her aunt demanded, as both she and Livie stood at Etta’s abrupt entrance. “Perhaps this Charlotte is not the only one who could use some lessons in etiquette, hm?” She was staring pointedly at Etta.

  “Beg pardon, Your Grace,” Etta breathlessly apologized. “But I’ve been searching for Lady Olivia everywhere.” Etta turned to face Livie. “I must talk with you, urgently.”

  Though Etta was prone to the dramatic, the expression in her gaze was filled with a desperate plea, and Livie nodded.

  “I was just about to take my leave,” Livie replied, collecting her cane and motioning for Etta to head to the door she’d just careened through. “As always, it was a pleasure, Aunt—”

  “Miss Merriweather simply cannot barge into my sitting room like the devil is after her for you then to both leave,” Demelza declared. “She must explain what is so urgent as to treat my sitting room as if it were some sort of dockside tavern.”

  “Oh, I am sorry—”

  “Etta, there is no need to apologize.” Livie cut her off. “Aunt Demelza simply wishes to know the goings-on of everything in Society, regardless of whether they have anything to do with her or not. Is that not right, Aunt?” She motioned Etta to the door again and then turned back to her aunt.

  “You are an impertinent girl,” Demelza said.

  “That I may be, but you have only yourself to blame for teaching me to be so.” Livie kissed her aunt’s weathered cheek.

  Demelza huffed mightily. “Do not think you have gotten out of telling me what you are up to. I shall find out from you when you visit with the girl.”

  Livie pulled back from her aunt and followed Etta to the door. “I look forward to you trying.”

  The sound of her aunt muttering “impertinent girl” followed Livie and Etta as they strode through the entrance hall and outside to where Livie’s carriage was waiting.

  “I don’t know how you have the courage to stand up to the Dragon Duchess,” Etta enthused as she vaulted into the carriage, Livie following her in at a more sedate pace. “She scares me dreadfully.”

  “As I’ve told you before, her bark is far worse than her bite.” Livie settled herself on the seat and glanced expectantly at her friend. “Well? What is so urgent that you braved the Dragon’s den?”

  “Mr. Mooney has threatened us with eviction.”

  Her stomach clenched at the news. Mooney was the landlord for the small warehouse they’d leased to use as the location for the gazette’s printing house. And he’d originally agreed to them putting down a small deposit with the balance of the rent to be paid at the end of the month. “But we have two weeks left to come up with the money!”

  “I know,” Etta said, wringing her hands in front of her lap. “But apparently someone else wants to rent the space, and unless we come up with the rent money, which he has decided to double, by nine o’clock tomorrow morning, Mr. Mooney said he would padlock the doors and sell our equipment to cover his losses.”

  “The fiend!” Livie smacked her fist in her other palm. Though they’d only been able to afford to purchase a small amount of the printing equipment that their printer, Mr. Whitbury, required, it was still their equipment. Equipment they could not afford to lose. “Mooney is trying to extort us! Well, I will not have it. We must get word immediately to Mr. Whitbury and his apprentice.”

  “Word of our predicament?”

  “Yes. They must attend the warehouse without delay and print up five hundred teaser pamphlets of the gazette tonight, to be distributed by our runners tomorrow. We need to get word out of the gazette’s intent and start building anticipation of its release, and we cannot risk Mooney padlocking the warehouse doors before we can at least do that.”

  “Very well,” Etta said. “I shall get word to Mr. Whitbury. But Livie, without an investor I don’t know how we’ll satisfy Mr. Mooney’s extortion or even be able to print a first edition the teaser will allude to.”

  “Actually, I do now have an investor.”

  “You do?” Etta’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Why, that is marvelous! And has this investor given you the funds? If so, we can pay Mr. Mooney, though I think we should try to have him honor his original agreement.”

  Livie fidgeted with her high collar. “Well, I don’t yet have the funds. Nor do I exactly have the contract signed, but I shall as soon as I find Sebastian.”

  “Sebastian?” There was confusion in Etta’s voice. “Who is Sebastian? And why have I not heard of him before, if you are on a first name basis with the man?”

  “Where to, my lady?” her carriage driver asked, speaking through the wooden panel from where he sat at the front.

  “Baker Street, please, Gregson.”

  “Mr. Colver’s offices, my lady?” Gregson asked.

  “Yes.”

  Across from her Etta stiffened. “Mr. Colver? As in, Sebastian Colver, the Bastard of Baker Street?”

  The carriage set off, and Livie wished Etta could be as compliant and unquestioning as her driver was. “Yes, that is he.”

  Folding her hands across her chest, Etta narrowed her eyes. “I think you had better start telling me what on earth you’ve gotten yourself and us into, Livie, because I’m starting to think that the devil really well might be on my tail—all of our tails in fact, if the Bastard of Baker Street is involved in any of our business.”

  Livie knew she would have had to tell both Etta and Kat eventually, though she’d been wanting to have Sebastian sign the contract first. Lucky, though, it was going to be only Etta she had to tell, as Kat had left for Europe the day before last in pursuit of her uncle’s killer.

  Of course, Kat hadn’t wanted to leave them, not in the initial stages of starting the gazette, but both Etta and Livie insisted she did. After all, Kat’s pursuit of her uncle’s murderer was too important not to follow the most promising lead she’d received thus far. And it also meant she wasn’t in London to object to Livie’s plan involving Sebastian, for Kat could be particularly difficult when she so chose.

  Taking in a deep breath, Livie told Etta of her meeting with Sebastian yesterday, though she didn’t mention Charlotte was his sister, instead calling her his friend’s daughter. And though Livie loathed lying to Etta, she’d promised Sebastian she would tell no one of his relationship to Charlotte, and she would keep her word.

  She also left out the information about the strange physical feelings of attraction the man had conjured within her. There were some things one didn’t share with anyone, not even one’s best friend.

  After she finished, Etta was completely silent, which was somewhat of a feat for her friend.

  “So, you see,” Livie continued, trying to break the horrid silence that had gripped the carriage, “our proble
ms are solved. Once I tell Sebastian of my success with my godmother, he will sign the contract and give us the start-up funds we require. And as much as it will pain me to do so after his extortion attempt, we shall be able to pay Mr. Mooney the rent. Then there will be nothing stopping us from printing the first edition of the gazette and wreaking havoc on the scoundrels who seek to ruin young ladies.”

  “Yes,” Etta agreed. “It is time to give men a taste of what it is to be the subject of scandal and censure.”

  “It is. And it will also give us the platform to hunt down Alice’s killer and expose him in its pages.”

  “Killer?” Etta jolted forward in her seat. “What do you mean?”

  “I think not only did the scoundrel seduce and ruin her, but I also think he killed her.” Livie knew it was time to share the information Alice imparted in her last letter.

  “Surely not?” Etta clutched a hand to her stomach. “We were told she jumped from the roof…”

  “She didn’t jump. I’m certain of it.” Livie pulled out Alice’s folded letter from her reticule, a piece of paper she had kept with her constantly since she’d read the words, and then handed it to Etta. “She was scared, of course, about being ruined; however, she was also excited, saying she’d secured enough funds to allow her to travel to America and start a new life there, pretending to be a widow. Those are not the words of someone contemplating taking their own life.”

  Silently, Etta read the letter, then tilted her head back up to regard Livie. “You really think she was murdered?”

  “It’s the only explanation,” Livie insisted. “She was excited in that letter, not despondent as someone would be if they were considering jumping from a roof. Not to mention Alice was scared of heights and would never have gone up to the roof of her own volition. She was murdered. And Sebastian Colver’s money is going to help me unmask the fiend and ruin him completely before he’s sent to jail for the rest of his miserable life. Now all I have to do is find Sebastian before tomorrow morning and get his signature on that contract.”