by Bree Verity
“Maybe take your sordid tales elsewhere?”
Freddie affected hurt. “Sordid tales? My dear fellow, my tales are always in the most exquisite of taste. Never let it be said that I have spoken badly of a woman in my companionship.”
“Most o’th’ time there ain’t much talking at all,” muttered Guthrie.
“Exactly,” Freddie replied, learning forward in his seat and clicking his fingers, startling Guthrie, and bringing a wry smile to Theo’s face. “Appreciation of beauty comes in many forms, gentlemen. And I, for one, appreciate in a very specific way.” He threw himself back in the chair and sighed blissfully. “And I admit, I appreciated Miss Frobisher many times over last evening.”
Theo shook his head, resigned to Freddie’s behavior. It was, after all, only to be expected of a wealthy London playboy. Freddie was easily three times as wealthy as Theo, having inherited his father’s massive estate at a very young age. With a series of highly competent managers taking care of his many and varied interests, Freddie had no purpose but pleasure.
However, Theo knew he came to the office because he knew he would find Theo there. They were old friends, having been through college together. Theo was a wonderful foil for Freddie’s theatrical nature, and Freddie had known how to take the usually quiet and solemn Theo and bring some enjoyment to his days.
The shudderings and itchiness started up along his spine again and his forehead puckered from the vague headache. “Guthrie,” he said, “I wonder if you could procure me some water?”
“Water, sir? Not brandy?”
“No, Guthrie. Water. I’ve already had brandy, and it has done nothing to reduce my aching head.”
“You have a headache?” Freddie sat forward in his chair, concerned this time. “But you are never ill.”
“I know,” replied Theo miserably. “Last evening, while you were carousing with the delectable Miss Frobisher, and I should have been carousing with my new wife, I was abed with a megrim, which seems to be dogging my footsteps.”
“Here you go, Sir. Water.”
Guthrie plunked the glass down in front of him and Theo gulped it down in seconds flat. Then, putting the glass back down on the table, he said to Guthrie, “Now, about that trade.”
“Wait a moment,” said Freddie, waving Guthrie aside. “What was that about you not spending your wedding night with your new wife?”
Theo looked up at both Freddie and Guthrie miserably. “I felt as if my brain was being sawn in two. There was no way I could have performed adequately.”
“And Miss… I mean, Mrs. Longshore?”
Theo smiled tightly. “She was very solicitous.”
“Hmmm,” replied Freddie, and a knowing look passed between him and Guthrie.
“What?” demanded Theo. “What is it?”
“Did she slip a little something into your food or drink, do you think?”
“No! Why, that’s preposterous! Why would she do such a thing?”
Guthrie wiped his nose. “When I got married, I basically had to hold my missus down before she would let me do the deed.” With a sniff, he continued gloomily, “And now, I wish we’d never started. Insatiable, she is. And twice the weight she was when we got hitched.”
“Yes, thank you Guthrie, for that mental picture,” shuddered Freddie. Turning to Theo, he said, “Some young ladies are so afraid of the marriage bed, they will take any measure they can think of to delay the event.”
Theo shook his head, wincing as his headache increased with the movement. “No, there was no evidence of fear in her.”
“Maybe it was well hidden.”
“I don’t think so. She’s a well-bred lady who knows what is required of her. I can’t imagine she would resort to such trickery. Especially since it could only provide a temporary respite from the act.” He shook his head and blinked, aware once again of the buzzing in his spine. “Now, Guthrie, can we get back to that trade?”
“What trade?” It was apparent in Freddie’s tone that he could not have cared less about the investment. He sat back in his chair and started to delicately pick at his fingernails.
“Are you sure you should do it today, sir, with you feelin’ ill an’ all?” asked Guthrie.
“Definitely, Guthrie. I have to do it today.” Theo winced again, hearing the feverish insistence in his tone. Guthrie’s uneven brows drew together again.
“What trade?” Freddie asked again, his interest piqued.
Guthrie replied, “Sir Theo wants to take ten thousand shares against Mrs. Longshore’s capital on a venture of Cabot and Co. I said to him it’s a risky business, but he’s not listenin’ to me today.”
“Ten thousand shares? Are you insane, man? That’s a third of your wife’s capital.” Freddie, for all his posturing, knew plenty about the market when he chose to. Obviously, he knew of the Cabot and Co. opportunity.
“Yes, with a four hundred percent increase when the matter is settled.” Theo knew the risks. He knew them. But he felt as if he could do nothing but defend the decision to his friends.
“Which is highly speculative, and just as likely to end in spectacular failure.” Freddie stood, walking over to stand beside Theo’s desk and put a hand on his shoulder. “This is not like you, Theo. I wonder if perhaps you should take Guthrie’s advice and think it over a little more. Especially if you have a megrim…”
“No!” Theo’s hand slammed down on the tabletop. “I need to make this investment now! Now, Guthrie. I beg of you.”
Silently, Guthrie slipped a form on to Theo’s desk. He wrote up the paperwork for Guthrie, surrounded by an uneasy silence from his two companions. Thrusting the paper at his man of business, he said, “Do it now.”
Guthrie ducked his head in a bow and left the room.
Immediately, the buzzing in Theo’s spine eased. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was surprised to find that he was perspiring. And the headache, rather than reducing, seemed to be making its way toward the same kind of megrim that brought him low last night.
“Are you sure you are quite the thing, old fellow?” asked Freddie, and Theo could hear the concern in his tone.
He smiled grimly. “You know, I am not sure at all. Yet I am certain I have made the right decision with that trade. I just know it.” He looked pleadingly at Freddie. “You of all people should know that I am not one to risk it all.”
Freddie grinned. “Getting you to risk anything at all is the trick,” he said. Then his face clouded. “Perhaps you should go home, Theo. You’ve turned a rather uncomfortable shade of grey.”
“I feel grey,” replied Theo. “I know that sounds strange, but I do.”
“I can believe it,” said Freddie. “Maybe go home and spend a few hours with that lovely new wife of yours. Not,” he held his hand up at Theo’s weak protestation, “in seduction, just in her company. I am certain you’ll be bang up to the mark tomorrow.”
Theo nodded. “I just might do that,” he said. A wry smile crossed his face. “Thank you, Freddie.”
“Look after yourself, man.”
And with the ghost of a smile, Theo slipped out of the office.
Chapter Six.
“Mrs. Longshore?”
Caroline heard her husband’s voice as she stood near the linen cupboard, discussing its contents with Mrs. Benton. That lady was only too happy to be able to upgrade some of the old sheets and coverlets that resided there. They were fine for a bachelor’s establishment, but for a young, wealthy family, Caroline wanted fresh, modern covers for the bedrooms.
With a last word to Mrs. Benton, she turned to find Sir Theodore waiting for her in the entranceway.
“I had thought you were away until at least late this afternoon,” she said, removing her apron from over her spring patterned morning gown and coming toward him from the room behind the stairs.
She burned to know whether he had made the investment with Cabot and Co, but knew that to ask him directly would place suspicion on her.
“
I have the beginning of a megrim again,” explained Sir Theodore, “and my business partner, Freddie - Sir Frederick, I think you met him at the wedding? - told me I should come home and just spend some time with you.”
Her first response was an odd shiver in her spine and a half-smile of pleasure. Her husband wanted to spend time with her.
Of course he does, her mind spat back. He wants to turn you into breeding stock.
Her smile fled.
“Of course,” she said evenly. “Shall we ring for some tea?”
“Perhaps some more of that tea Mrs. Benton brought up yesterday,” Sir Theodore suggested. “It tasted dreadful, but it seemed to clear up my headache in quick time.”
Caroline called for Benton and gave him the orders before taking her husband by the arm and leading him into the front room.
“Sit down,” she said, gently pushing him into one of the large winged chairs by the fire, which had been allowed to die down. “And perhaps loosen your collar a little. You look as though you need some air.” She sat beside him in the other winged chair, watching him with concern. He did look pale - but grey rather than pale, and pinched as if he was in great pain. “Do you know what brought this on?”
Sir Theo inhaled and exhaled expansively, and winced at the movement. “Not at all. I got to the office, managed one transaction, and then Freddie told me to come home.” He sent a wry grin in Caroline’s direction. “I am not giving you a very good impression of myself, am I?”
She didn’t smile back. She felt a little sick inside herself. Was it the magic making him ill again?
He misinterpreted her silence and sat up straighter to take her hand. “Oh, my dear, you must not be concerned for me. I am usually robust, and I never get ill. Well, hardly ever, anyway. That is why Freddie sent me home. Because it was such an unusual occurrence.”
“Yes,” she replied, forcing a small smile to her face that she knew didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I am pleased that you came home, under the circumstances. Perhaps we should call the doctor to come and check you over.”
“I am not that unwell,” chided Sir Theodore, but Caroline replied, “If you are never unwell, Sir, then it is probably even more necessary.”
Her husband gave her what she interpreted as an indulgent look and replied, “Well, if you think it necessary, I shall submit.”
When Benton appeared with the tea, Caroline asked him to organize for the doctor to visit. “It is not urgent, Benton, but if the doctor could attend at his convenience sometime today to see to Sir Theodore, that would be acceptable.”
Benton bowed and said, “Very good, Madam,” closing the door behind him and James as they left.
“Shall I stir up the fire?” asked Caroline.
“No, it is quite warm enough in here for me,” said Sir Theodore, “unless you are feeling the chill?”
Caroline gave a short, amused laugh. “Indeed, I have done nothing but run from one side of the house to the other this morning while Mrs. Benton showed me this and that. I am very far from cold.”
“I like to see you laugh, Caroline.”
Sir Theodore took her hand, and she looked into his face, which was slowly returning to its usual color. The greyness was gone now, it was only pale, and his hazel eyes shone out of the darkened pools around them.
Caroline’s mouth dried and her pulse quickened as she stared into the fire to try to cover the blush on her cheeks.
“Sir Theodore, I…”
“I know you are not yet comfortable with the intimacy, my dear, but I hope that you are coming to realize that my feelings for you are more than just cordial?”
Caroline shook her head, a riot of emotions passing through her. Sir Theodore didn’t care for her. She was just a possession. That he wanted to possess, body and soul. And yet, for a moment, she thought perhaps there was something more in his gaze, something tender and caring that sent a shiver of desire flowing through her.
“Doesn’t your heart flutter, Caroline?” Sir Theo was serious suddenly. “For mine flutters whenever I am around you.”
Caroline, caught in the depth of his stare, found that her mouth was suddenly dry. Her breathing increased as Sir Theo stood from his chair and leaned over hers, his lips but a moment away from hers.
“Does your heart flutter?” he murmured again, sliding a hand along her shoulder, up her neck and into the back of her hair. “For mine does. With desire. Each time I look at you.”
Caroline found herself lost in brandy and smoke and spice. She closed her eyes, breathlessly anticipating his lips meeting hers. Her pulse raced, her hands gripped the arm rests of the chair.
With the touch of his lips, Caroline forgot to breathe. She could only bathe in the sensations, the softness of his lips, his shortened breathing, his hand massaging the back of her head, and the heady swirl of his scent all around her. His other hand, snaking from her shoulder, down her arm, to rest by her elbow. His heat, radiating from him and warming her to the core.
There was a knock on the door.
With a wry smile, Sir Theo pulled away and returned to his own chair. “My timing seems to be perfect,” he muttered with a grin before strengthening his voice and calling, “Enter.”
Caroline could not understand how he could appear so calm - she was so riled up she could hardly have said what day it was.
Benton came through the door and bowed. “Mrs. Cheswick has arrived,” he announced.
“Already?”
But Caroline was already rushing toward the door where a tiny, fragile woman stood looking a little bewildered, a rag doll clasped in one hand.
“Mama!”
Caroline threw her arms around the woman, who hugged her back, and then held her at arms length.
“Caroline,” she said. “Your hair is too short.”
Behind her mother, Caroline noticed another gentleman, removing his hat and gloves and handing them to Benton.
“Uncle Harold,” she said, in a significantly less welcoming tone. “We did not expect you today.”
“No,” agreed Sir Theodore, coming to stand beside Caroline. “We did not.” Caroline threw him a glance over her shoulder. He sounded unimpressed.
“My deepest apologies,” said Uncle Harold, coming into the parlor and rubbing his hands together. “But Celina was fretting so badly, it was impossible to keep her calm.”
“No,” said Mrs. Cheswick.
Uncle Harold laughed affectionately. “You see? The poor thing has forgotten all about it already. This house is as a balm to her affliction.”
Caroline raised one politely incredulous eyebrow, and Uncle Harold colored and turned away, saying to Sir Theodore, “May I have a word?” and pulling him by the elbow into a little corner enclave of the room.
Caroline was a little torn. Of course, she loved to see her mother and couldn’t wait to install her into the house. She had insisted on her mother being brought to live with them upon their marriage, and Sir Theodore, to his credit, had instantly agreed.
On the other hand, she and Sir Theodore had still not consummated their marriage, nor brought matters between them to anything even approaching normal. That was why Sir Theodore had asked for five days - so that they could work out how their household would function, and that they could get used to each other.
Caroline sniffed. Not that she had any say in those matters. It appears Sir Theodore had already worked out exactly how he expected his household to run, well before she even set foot in the house.
She stiffened her spine. Actually, it was a good thing her mother was here. She wouldn’t have to listen to Sir Theodore spouting forth about the separation of household duties, what a man should do, and what a woman should do.
“Come along Mama,” she said with decision. “I’ll show you your bedroom.”
* * *
Theo watched as Caroline walked away, arm in arm with her mother. They were an incongruous pair, Caroline was tall for a woman, and her mother by comparison was tiny and birdlike, still
, he could see similarities in their walk and in their posture that proclaimed them family. Something in the way they held their heads, and in the swish of their hips.
With a sigh, he turned back to Caroline’s uncle. Harold Ponsonby was an ass. Still, he was family now, so Theo felt forced to give him half an ear.
“My dear fellow, it has been positively nightmarish.” Ponsonby took it upon himself to pour himself a sizeable brandy from the decanter on the sideboard. “Celina would not stop wailing, from the moment we arrived home from the wedding. I was almost compelled to call in some fellows I know from Bedlam.”
At Theo’s startled expression, he laughed without humor. “It was a joke, old fellow. Just a joke.” He elbowed Theo in the ribs, then seeing that did not change the expression on Theo’s face, became grave. “No, I should never send her there. Terrible place. Heard terrible things.” Ponsonby nodded, his face etched with a seriousness that Theo did not believe.
“Why are you really here, Ponsonby? You were supposed to care for Mrs. Cheswick for five days. Five days. I paid you handsomely for her room and board for that period. And yet here you are, not twenty-four hours after my marriage, dumping her on my doorstep.”
“Yes, well,” replied Caroline’s uncle silkily, “shall we say, I would be pleased to take her away again, if you could spot me some ready cash - maybe a couple of hundred?”
“Are you really trying to wheedle more money out of me?”
“My boy.” Ponsonby moved in close, and Theo’s nostrils flared at the twin odors of cheap cigar smoke and unwash. “Not all of us have the capital you do. Some of us are forced to live by our wits.” He shrugged. “And my wits have been a little off of late.”
Theo sniffed. “In that case, I shall keep Mrs. Cheswick here. It would seem to be in her best interests.”
Ponsonby looked at him blankly for a moment, then smiled. “Of course,” he replied smoothly. “That would indeed solve the immediate problem. Still, did you not wish to spend the next few days in the intimate embrace of your wife? That would be, shall we say, a little uncomfortable with her mother watching on, shall it not?”
