Artwork adorned the walls, masters that she recognized. Paintings and sculptures that could very well be housed in the British Museum. An entranceway meant to impress, she realized. Yet he sneaked me in through the back door.
That should tell me what he truly thinks of me, she thought with a touch of sadness.
The butler marched across the polished floor and opened a door before he stepped back and waited for them to enter. The room was obviously Caldwell’s study. A large central desk covered in papers and ledgers. Shelves of books, a roaring fireplace, and comfortable chairs. The room was pure him, she thought. Masculine, mysterious, and full of secrets.
“Thank you, Benson,” Caldwell said to the butler. “Please tell Jocko that I will be needing his services. And have someone make up a pack for Thomas, he will have a long ride in front of him.”
“Yes, Sir,” Benson replied as if it were perfectly normal to rouse half the household staff at this time of night.
“Lady Weston, if you will,” Caldwell said, indicating the chair across from his desk.
Alice swallowed nervously and moved towards the chair in question. Running her hand over the fine silk brocade, she looked around the room again. Everything was simple, but of the highest quality. Nothing ornate, nothing ostentatious. Just solid craftsmanship. Function over form, she thought. Yes, definitely his room.
Taking a seat, she watched as he lifted a bottle towards her. “Brandy?” he asked. “It has been a rather eventful evening. I realize Brandy is not a lady’s drink, but it will help.”
She hesitated for a moment. Was he trying to ply her with spirts? Was this his way of seduction? But if she was to be his mistress, why would he even bother with such subterfuge?
“Yes, thank you,” she said, surprising herself.
Smiling, he poured her a glass and then one for himself.
The liquid burned and made her cough, but it soon filled her with warmth and pushed the fears eating at her stomach into the background. He smiled at her and nodded as if pleased that she had accepted his offer.
Her fingers grasped the glass tightly as she waited. Her insides tumbled over themselves as she fought to stop from tapping her foot. Why? she wondered. Why did this man want her for his mistress? Was it because she came from the aristocracy. Was this his way of getting back at them? Or was it something else.
It didn’t make sense. The man was very handsome, very rich, and very confident. She doubted that he would ever have difficulty finding female companionship. So, why her?
As she took another sip of her brandy, letting the amber liquid warm her insides, she examined how she felt about the matter and was surprised to discover that the answer wasn’t important. Not really. What was important was that she could see herself with this man. See herself in his bed. A thought that made her insides turn soft, not with fear, but with anticipation.
“Lady Weston,” he began as he sat down behind the big desk.
“Mr. Caldwell?” she responded with a smile as she mimicked their earlier conversation. He caught her reference and returned her smile. Yes, she thought. She could see herself with this man, he would be gentle and caring. At least on the surface.
“Lady Weston,” he began again. “As you know, I brought you here to discuss a business arrangement.
Her insides continued to flutter with nervousness. As if a thousand starlings had taken flight. This was the moment she realized as a new fear flowed through her. He needed to know the truth she thought. There could be no secrets, not if this business was to go smoothly.
“Sir,” she interrupted. “I think you should know that I do not have a lot of experience in these matters. In fact, none at all.” Her cheeks grew warm and she knew she was blushing. A fact that made her even more embarrassed.
He studied her for a moment, his forehead wrinkling in confusion, then said, “Yes, well. I understand that, but I believe you will be successful.”
Now she frowned. That was not the answer she had anticipated. It seemed so cold. Couldn’t he see her distress? Her concerns? Or had he dismissed them as of no merit. Or worse, because they were hers, they did not affect him.
She took a deep breath and held it for a second then said, “Sir, because of my inexperience, I would like it if you called out exactly what would be expected of me. Where? How often? That type of thing.” Her cheeks were on fire, but she held his stare. She must, ambiguity in these matters could lead to disaster.
He tipped his head to one side and studied her for a long moment as if trying to understand her. Then, his eyes grew big for a brief second and a large smile lit up his face. He was like a little boy who had been pleasantly surprised by a new discovery.
Her heart froze in fear. This was not the reaction she had expected.
“Lady Weston,” he said, smiling kindly at her, “I asked you here tonight to come to an arrangement. My sister, Olivia, is seventeen and desires a season. I wish to hire you to help her through it.”
Alice’s world screeched to a sudden stop. Everything halted as her mind raced to understand. He didn’t want her as a mistress. He wanted her to help his sister.
“But …” she stammered as her throat refused to form words.
He nodded. “Yes, that is all I wanted. I was thinking five hundred pounds, plus expenses, you know dress, hats, those types of things. I don’t know how these things work, but I assume you will need additions to your wardrobe. Olivia told me once that women don’t like to be seen in the same dress at different balls. So yes, all expenses. Then, another five hundred pounds when Olivia becomes betrothed to a man that I find acceptable.”
Alice fought to retain the words she was hearing. Five hundred pounds. It was as if the man had offered her a lifeline to pull her from the depths of despair. Once more, he was coming to her rescue.
“But, I don’t understand?” she said as she shook her head, trying desperately to clear the fuddled mess her mind had become.
He smiled gently at her, obviously giving her time to grasp what he was saying. He must think I am a complete idiot, she thought. His words were simple and could not be misconstrued. I shouldn’t be having this difficult a time understanding.
“You want me to help your sister through her season?” she said.
“Yes,” he replied. “I am assured that you know your way around the ton. And in all honesty, the rules and expectations are foreign to me. I don’t come from that world. But my sister is special to me and if it is what she wants, then I will move heaven and earth to give it to her.”
“But why me?” she asked as she once again started to blush. “I mean, surely you have heard about what happened,” she said as she looked down at her hands in her lap.
He shrugged his shoulders. “I heard that you walked away from a bad situation. A sign of intelligence if you ask me. I also hear that the scandal was not so severe that you would be denied entry to most of the ballrooms in London. There might be one or two, but I assure you, my wealth will open those doors for my sister and yourself.”
Alice frowned as she tried to work out how she felt inside. A moment earlier, she was prepared to become this man’s mistress. In fact, she had almost been looking forward to it with anticipation vice fright. A thought that she would have thought impossible before meeting this man. But instead of becoming his mistress, she was to become his sister’s guide. She was to be gowned and given entry back into the ton. She was to be given an opportunity to save herself and her name.
Who was this man? she wondered once again. He seemed so kind, so nice. So not what she would have imagined for a man with his reputation. So different than the man who had stared down Brookstone as if he were a mere bug.
Why? Was this some subterfuge to get her into his bed? But again, he needn’t have gone through all of this to achieve such a goal. She had been within in seconds of selling herself to him. Kindness and chivalry had not been needed.
“Of course, I do have a few conditions of employment,” he said, pulling her back t
o the present.
Her heart froze, “Yes?” she asked.
“No scandal of course. I will not have anything reflect poorly on my sister. That means you will not be allowed to seek out a husband.
“Ha,” she laughed before she could stop herself. Then swallowed hard when she realized the man was being serious. “Of course,” she responded in a serious tone.
“In addition,” he continued, “I will expect you to keep Olivia from a making a bad choice. The girl can be headstrong and I will not have her making a poor decision. I expect you to guide her to the right kind of man.”
Alice frowned. “And what is the right kind of man? Rich? Powerful? A title?”
He shook his head, “No, none of that is important. I will not have her marrying a carefree rake or a fortune hunter. No, I hope my sister marries a man she respects and loves. The kind of man she will continue to love into her old age.”
Alice blanked for a moment. That had not been the answer she expected. Again, who was this man?
“A girl her age is often blinded,” he continued. “They see what they wish to see not the truth about a man. They are easily misled. A condition of your employment is that my sister not be fooled. Is that understood?”
Alice nodded, perfectly understandable. Maybe impossible to achieve, but understandable. Frowning to herself, she gently placed her glass on his desk, being careful not to set it on any of the papers. Looking up, she studied him for a moment. The man was serious. He simply wanted her to help his sister find a husband. Nothing more. No secret liaisons. No shame, no fear. He was offering her an opportunity that could not be ignored.
Her heart relaxed as a small disappointment flowed through her. No, she told herself. This is good. This is wonderful. Do not look at what has been lost, but take what has been gained.
Smiling at him, she nodded. “Yes, Mr. Caldwell, I would be pleased to accept your offer.”
He nodded back and held out his hand. Alice looked at it for a moment then realized this was a business arrangement. Taking his hand, she felt a brief tingle that she pushed aside as she focused on him.
“Good, Lady Weston. I am sure that this will work well.”
“I assure you that I will do my best.”
The two of them stood, staring at each other across his desk, each of them lost in thoughts of what might have been. She could see it in his eyes. She had seen the same look earlier. That hungry look of a predator. But after but a brief glimpse, he pushed the desire back, burying it under a mountain of responsibility.
No, there would be no scandal, she realized.
Sighing internally, she reluctantly looked down, unable to meet his stare.
A sharp knock at the study door made her jump. The door opened and an older man entered. He wore simple clothes, pantaloons, and a wool sweater under a short jacket. Gnarled hands and a nasty scar the length of his neck spoke loudly what type of man he was. The man’s slight smile did not hide the danger that lurked just beneath the surface. This was a man you did not want to anger, she realized. Much like his employer, he exuded competence and confidence.
“You asked for me, Capt’n?” he said as he stepped into the room without being called.
Caldwell smiled and shook his head. “Yes, Jocko, and I’ve told you a dozen times, you really are supposed to wait until I tell you it is permissible to enter.”
The man shrugged his shoulders. “I figure if I ignore your new rules enough, you’ll send me back to a ship where I belong.”
Caldwell continued to shake his head, but Alice could see he was fighting not to laugh.
“Have the coach brought around. I want you to escort Lady Weston to her home. You are to remain there and ensure she is not bothered.” He shot his man a look that let him know exactly what he meant. Alice’s heart skipped a beat as she thought of Brookstone. He was telling this man to protect her. Did she have reason to fear?
“Is that necessary?” she asked.
Caldwell smiled gently at her and said, “Hopefully not, but I know men like Brookstone. I would prefer if you allow me this.”
She nodded, surprised at how it felt to be protected. To have someone care about what happened to her. Someone strong enough and powerful enough to make sure she had nothing to fear. The feeling of security sent a warmth to her very soul and made her heart melt just a little.
“Tomorrow,” Caldwell continued addressing his man, “you will escort Lady Weston and her mother back here.”
“I will have Benson prepare you adjoining rooms near Olivia,” he said to her.
Her stomach clenched into a tight ball. “Here? You want me to live here?”
He frowned for a second. “Of course, I am sorry, but I can’t have Olivia visiting you at your current residence.”
“But people …”
He smiled and shook his head. “Your mother will be here. I assure you, it is perfectly acceptable. You are family friends, why shouldn’t you and your mother be our guests?”
She hesitated for a long moment as she searched for some reason to deny him. But once again, it appeared as if he had solved all the issues. At last, she nodded and conceded to his wishes.
Smiling at her surrender, he turned back to Jocko. “And on your way out, send Thomas to me.”
“Aye, aye, Capt’n,” the man said and Alice could have sworn she heard the wind in the sails and smelled the salt air with the man’s words. Hadn’t Nathanial referred to himself as a former ship’s captain. Had this man served with Nathanial? There seemed to be a special bond between them. Much more than an employer and his servant.
She swallowed a dozen questions and turned back to Mr. Caldwell. The interview was complete, she realized, he was already preparing to move on to other matters. Sighing internally, she held out her hand again.
“Thank you, Mr. Caldwell. I assure you I will do everything in my power to help Olivia through her season.”
“I am sure you will,” he said as he took her hand. Once again, the thrill of his touch surprised her. What was it about this man that could turn her world upside down with a simple caress of her palm?
“Until tomorrow,” he added.
Biting back a great deal of regret, she smiled and turned to follow Jocko from the room.
Sitting back in the coach, alone, her world swirled as she tried to fathom all that had happened to her this evening. She knew herself. It would take quite a while until she could fully grasp all the changes in her life. But one thing she was sure of, Mr. Caldwell was like no other man she had ever met. A mystery wrapped up in hidden secrets.
He showed the world a rough, tough exterior. A man to be feared who would crush any who thwarted him. Yet his servants adored him. He went out of his way to help damsels in distress and when he had an opportunity to use her, he had chosen to help her instead.
Yes, she thought, deep down, despite his reputation, Mr. Caldwell was a good man. While he would surely deny it to any and all. She saw the truth. Mr. Caldwell might be a rake, but really, he was a hero at heart.
Chapter Six
Nathanial Caldwell let his valet retie the cravat. The man fretted if his employer was not perfectly dressed. He’d worked through the night. A quick change of clothes and he could join Olivia for the morning meal. Thankfully, like her brother, the girl could not abide lying about in bed. There was a day to be conquered.
Glancing into the mirror, he nodded his appreciation and started downstairs. If he was quick, he might catch her before she was off on one of her explorations. Visiting some museum, Jocko in the background making sure she was safe.
As he descended the stairs his mind drifted back to the encounter with Lady Weston. He found himself smiling as he remembered her embarrassment when she discovered he had not asked her here to become his mistress.
He also remembered the surge of need that had washed over him at the thought of this woman in his bed.
He had been on the verge of changing his mind and shifting the agreement, but had pulled
back. For some reason, the thought of Lady Weston coming to him out of obligation had not seemed right. No, if he was to ever have her, it would be because she couldn’t imagine not being in his bed.
Sighing again, he tried to push thoughts of the beautiful Lady Weston from his mind. Not now, he thought, he needed to evaluate the impact on Olivia if a scandal erupted. Weigh that against his need for this woman.
Stepping into the dining room, he was struck again at how grown up Olivia had become. Her long chestnut hair was up. Her face lit with a welcoming smile. She wore a simple, but lovely day dress. A woman’s dress. At seventeen, she would never again wear schoolgirl clothes.
But it was her eyes that told him so much. They held an intelligence rare for someone so young.
He smiled to himself. Olivia would be a true adversary if society were to ever allow a woman to enter the world of business. She saw connections and details that other’s missed. She had devoured his library but had added to that knowledge with her exploration of London’s museums and galleries. Having long ago passed the need for a governess, he had allowed her freedom to grow and form herself and he had to admit, he was pleased with the result.
It wasn’t as if he could have stopped her if he tried.
“You worked through the night again,” she said with a subtle frown.
He laughed. A change of clothes had not fooled her.
“Yes,” he replied, “but it was your fault.”
She frowned back at him and waited for an explanation.
Taking a breath, he prepared to broach a subject that might not go as well as he hoped. “I have decided to accede to your wishes and allow you a season.”
She smiled and nodded. No scream of joy. No excessive thankyous. He could tell by her look that she knew there was more.
“But …” he continued.
“Why I am not surprised there are conditions,” she interrupted.
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