Love in the Bargain (Women of Worth, #1)

by Stockton, Kasey

  “Is he really?”

  “No, not really...oh, you are only teasing. Alright, my lord, no more interruptions. He is a small country squire, and she was the local vicar’s youngest daughter. After watching her grow older from a church pew and falling more and more in love with her from a distance, he chose to approach the vicar and request her hand in marriage.” I settled into the bench, finding myself settling further into the story. “The vicar shocked our country squire by turning him down. At first, the squire was outraged. Who would provide a better life for the vicar’s daughter than he? No one! But as time went on, he came to wonder more and more why he was rejected. Upon asking the vicar, he learned that the girl was high-spirited and her father simply thought they wouldn’t suit.

  “The country squire was outraged and demanded the lady’s hand in marriage, to which she gracefully, and her father reluctantly, accepted. They had been married six months when the squire’s bride asked to be brought to London for the Season. He accepted the request on the small hope that perhaps time in the metropolis would give his bride something to do and would, in turn, grant him some respite.”

  We both looked at the couple in question. The man sighed and the woman jabbered on eagerly, pointing at various things and asking her companion questions.

  Lord McGregor’s shoulders shook subtly and I glanced at him promptly to find him holding in a laugh. “You are something else, Miss Cox, if I can so boldly say. That is the most entertaining drive I have ever taken in Hyde Park.”

  “The pleasure is mine, my lord.”

  “Shall we go again?”

  I looked around for another subject while our carriage came to a full stop.

  “Miss Cox. Jack.” Lord Cameron called from his own curricle, seated beside Rosalynn and facing the opposite direction at a standstill beside our own. “What a lovely day we are having, are we not?”

  “Quite,” Lord McGregor said. “I’m afraid the weather was the least of my notice. I have been thoroughly entertained by Miss Cox. Lady Rosalynn, where have you been hiding such a gem all these years?”

  “At Miss Smythe’s school, naturally. I could not share her with the lot of you for fear she’d spoil.” She sent me a saucy wink. I returned a wry grin.

  Lord McGregor clapped a hand over his chest. “Do not malign me so. You must let her make out my character for herself.”

  “I believe I’ve got a general idea already,” I said.

  “And do you like what you see thus far?”

  “What cheek!” I backed away from him dramatically, but we were in a two-seated vehicle, and I hadn’t much room as it was.

  “She is not a timid flower to be scared away, Jack,” Rosalynn stated proudly, Lord Cameron watching me with interest beside his sister.

  “No.” Lord McGregor glanced down at me as though taking my measure for himself. “Of that I am most certain.”

  AS WE PULLED UP TO my house on Berkeley Street, I allowed Lord McGregor to help me down from the high seat.

  “Thank you, sir. I enjoyed that ride immensely.”

  “As did I,” he said gallantly. “Perhaps I may call on you at home soon?”

  I caught my mother’s eyes in the drawing room window before she let the curtain drop slowly over her face. It swung a moment, dangling in the window like the bait I stood beside—Lord McGregor was going to become my mother’s greatest accomplishment. Or at least, that is how she was likely imagining the situation.

  My options were limited. I could not turn him away, and I could not change myself to make him despise me. But there was one thing I could do.

  I stepped forward, allowing my hand to fall on his arm, tilting my head to deliver a coy smile. “I would enjoy it above all things,” I said, my voice low and sultry.

  Widened blue eyes raked over me. He cleared his throat and stepped back slightly. “Yes, well...I shall see you at the Waltons’ ball? Yes? Lovely. Until then.” He nodded a quick goodbye and hopped onto his curricle.

  I watched him drive away, shooting me an uncomfortable smile over his shoulder, and considered two things. The first, that I had most definitely come on too strong. The second, that it could be the very answer I had been searching for.

  Glancing up to the window where my mother had previously stationed herself, I watched the curtain continue to sway and smiled to myself. I had done it. I was going to come out of this Season intact.

  All I had to do was scare away the men by being the very woman I had described to Lord McGregor in my story earlier. I had to push them away with my excess of enthusiasm, as though my mind held no other goal than matrimony. I would become my mother.

  Chapter Ten

  This was it. This was the moment I was going to show them all. The musicians were tuning their instruments for a waltz and I had my sights set on Lord Fischer, standing only a few feet away. I had not shared a dance with him since that first ball, and he would be the perfect man to test my new strategy on. Coming on too strong had worked wonders on Lord McGregor, but how would it affect a different man? Particularly one who did not show me any interest.

  I sidled up beside him and let out a long, drawn-out sigh. His eyes caught mine briefly down his nose, he smiled politely, and then looked away again.

  Dismissed.

  His clothing was no less fashionable today than it had been at that first ball, and he was no less foppish in his green and purple striped waistcoat and immaculate golden jacket.

  I swallowed my apprehension, stepped a little closer, and sighed again, drawing this one out even longer. “Oh, how I long to dance the waltz,” I said dreamily.

  Several moments went by before Lord Fischer faced me and held out his arm obligingly. I grinned triumphantly.

  “Will you do me the honor, Miss Cox?”

  “I would be delighted, my lord.” I clasped his arm as he walked me out to the floor and I felt myself breaking through a barrier and joining the rest of society in something that before now I had only witnessed from afar. Despite my desire to break into the waltzing world, and the need to test out my eagerness on an unwitting Lord Fischer, I was nervous. He lined me up in the outer circle of dancers, and we began the promenade. I swallowed my apprehension and offered him a coy smile.

  Before now, I had only ever done this dance with my dancing master. And he was a septuagenarian.

  The feel of a man’s strong arms leading me around the floor in the previously improper dance was making me giddy and light-headed. I found my smile growing as we glided across the floor. I caught many surprised faces, which tempered my glee. Apparently, it had been common knowledge that I was the woman talked about in that first article.

  I pasted my smile back on and enjoyed the heady experience that was waltzing.

  As the song came to a close, Lord Fischer led me back toward my mother, but I subtly shifted his direction toward the refreshments. I was still delighted from the dance. It was chivalrous of him to step out with me when he probably would have avoided it if he could have.

  No, not probably. Most definitely would have avoided it. Appearance mattered to the dandy, and I could not be someone he would choose to align himself with.

  With no little chagrin, I turned toward him, grasping his arm. “Thank you, Lord Fischer. It was most kind of you and I find I enjoyed the waltz every bit as much as I imagined I would.”

  “The pleasure was mine, Miss Cox,” he said obligingly.

  I was sure that was not true, and I let him escape just before my mother came upon us.

  “Tell me everything,” she commanded.

  “I waltzed.”

  She let out a huff that bathed my face in garlic.

  I noted my next partner nearby and stepped away from her. “And now I am due to dance with Lord Cameron. If you will excuse me, I am not letting a single opportunity slip away.”

  Mother’s face was a mixture of irritation and delight, but she didn’t stop me when Lord Cameron approached and led me away.

  “You are enjoying your
self this evening,” he said.

  “Yes, I am,” I agreed.

  We took our places for the quadrille and his gaze was unyielding while we waited for the music to begin. “You are changed.”

  I mocked offense. “Are you implying that I have not previously enjoyed myself?”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  I had no rebuttal. Gratefully, the music began and did not give us an opportunity to finish the conversation. I was more than a little unnerved by Lord Cameron’s accusation. Particularly because he had been somewhat correct. Oh, not entirely. I enjoyed dancing as a general rule. But until now I had found too much to be anxious about to consider taking any real pleasure in the dances. I had been too busy worrying about the bargain.

  The set came to a close with limited conversation and an excess of scrutiny. “I find myself parched, sir. Would you be so kind as to escort me to your sister?” I asked kindly. I was not about to try my little act on him. I knew without a doubt he would instantly see through it.

  Rosalynn stood against the wall holding a glass of lemonade. I joined her and Lord Cameron left to procure me a glass of my own.

  “You waltzed,” she said, her eyes shining bright, her cheeks gently flushed from her own exertions. “Freya is out there now with Lord McGregor.”

  “You introduced them?” I asked.

  “Of course.” She looked at me sideways. “I only hope she does not drill him on his past transgressions like my other friend might have done.”

  “It was a mere reference. I hardly said anything at all,” I said, laughing. “He told you?”

  “We do not have many secrets.” She shrugged. “He is like a brother.”

  “Ah yes, one of The Tyrants.”

  “I believe,” said Lord Cameron from behind me, “that I have outgrown that childish nickname.”

  Rosalynn grinned at me. “No, he certainly has not.”

  I accepted my glass of lemonade, drank it with unladylike swiftness, and placed the glass back in his hands. “I am late for a dance with Mr. Fenway. I can see him searching for me now.” I looked at Rosalynn, who gave me a questioning gaze. “I will fill you in later.” I grinned. And then I was off.

  I’d found a way to endure the Season, for making a game of the men was unquestionably satisfying.

  MISS C___ HAS WALTZED!

  Indeed, Miss C___ has turned the tables on the Fashionable World, spurning antiquated ideals for the increasingly popular waltz. She was seen at Almack’s last evening thoroughly enjoying the modern dance in the arms of the distinguished Lord F___. Might there be a new romance budding? Gentlemen, now is the time to stake your claims, or the lovely Miss C___ could soon be off the marriage market for good.

  “THIS IS THE OUTSIDE of enough!” Mother said, tossing the newspaper onto the floor beside the kitchen table.

  Father wiped his mouth, speaking calmly as though he were appeasing a child. “Calm down, it cannot be as bad as that.”

  “Calm down?” Mother seared him with a glare. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her eyes bulging. “Mr. Cox, you must not understand. We were mocked for having values. Now we are mocked for attempting to modernize. Will these people never be pleased?”

  “Perhaps,” he said calmly, “we should cease trying to please the insignificant wretches behind the articles and pour our efforts into securing a decent future for Elspeth.”

  Mother paused, her jaw working back and forth while her brain concocted a new scheme. I swallowed.

  “Perhaps I should lie low for a while,” I cautiously ventured. “Surely they would find someone else to discuss if they had nothing to say about me.”

  “Not an option,” Mother replied instantly. “And with both Lord Fischer and Lord McGregor showing interest, it is the worst time to retreat. We need you seen now more than ever.”

  “But—”

  “No,” Father said forcefully. I slammed my mouth shut. “You will listen to your elders, Elspeth. We know better.”

  Resentment and annoyance swirled within me, begging my body to move and my tongue to fight. I wanted to shout, to defend my argument. Had they known better when they forbade me from dancing the waltz at the Gibsons’ ball? Father returned to his meal, the matter closed. Reluctantly, I bit my tongue. Arguing was hardly worth the effort.

  “Get dressed, Elsie,” Mother said sharply. “We are going to correct this disaster.”

  I rose from the table, leaving behind my half-eaten breakfast.

  The article wasn’t the best and it certainly did not paint me in a very flattering light, but anyone who believed in a possible romance between Lord Fischer and me was positively blind.

  I dressed slowly, not particularly eager to find out how Mother meant to correct this disaster.

  “Molly,” I asked while she fastened my dress, “would you happen to know who is informing on me to the newspaper?”

  Her hands paused, and I found my breathing halt with them. Was that indecision flickering in her eyes or mere nerves?

  “What do you mean, miss?”

  “I just don’t see who could be writing these things about me. While they are not altogether mean, they certainly aren’t kind. And the more articles there are, the more concerned I find myself.” I sighed, pouring my frustrations on an unwitting maid. “I only wanted to enjoy the Season. I don’t even want a husband.”

  “Do you not, miss?” Molly finished fastening my gown and I turned to face her. She hastily tried to mask her surprise.

  “No, I do not. Is it really so odd that I would prefer to find a comfortable home somewhere where I can govern myself, and never have to worry again about obeying someone else? Where I would be free.”

  Her eyes flashed. I had not considered until that moment how a servant might view my opinions. Ashamed, I swallowed a lump and straightened my shoulders. She may live a life of servitude, but she chose to work as a maid, and my higher status did not mean my feelings were less important.

  “You have freedom,” she said.

  “Not entirely, no. I am not of age and must live by my father’s word. He is my master. If I marry, my husband would become my master. As a woman, the only option I have, if I want to retain a semblance of independence, is to remain unwed. That is my only choice.”

  Molly seemed to consider this. I didn’t know why her opinion mattered to me. Perhaps I simply appreciated explaining myself to someone who was truly listening. Her ability to hear my story or validate my feelings did not diminish simply because I paid her to do my bidding.

  “Your mother wants you to look your best at all times,” Molly said. I let her guide me to my vanity and seat me on the tufted chair.

  “Because I normally look like a disheveled pig?”

  That pulled a small smile from Molly’s lips. “I just follow orders,” she said.

  Yes, I thought, I know how that feels.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mother’s face had never before looked as determined as it did riding in the carriage toward the Duke of Clifton’s house that morning.

  “You will leave the talking to me,” she said.

  “Yes, Mother.”

  I pushed away my apprehension as we pulled in front of the stately building. Whatever mother’s intention, Rosalynn was one of my closest friends. Surely she would understand.

  Mother presented her card and minutes later the butler led us into the drawing room. Rosalynn raised her eyebrows slightly and I grimaced. I wanted her to know this wasn’t my idea. Of course, she should know me well enough to know that all on her own. I hoped.

  “Lady Clifton, it has been ages since I saw you last. And you look so lovely,” Mother gushed.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Cox,” the duchess said, gesturing for us to be seated. Her raven hair was pulled into an elegant knot and her gown flowed like one long strand of ribbon from her neck to the floor. “How is London treating you this Season?”

  “Fabulously, your grace, like always,” Mother simpered. I wanted to hide beneath the pillow I was
leaning against. I purposefully ignored Rosalynn’s amused glance. “I could not be more pleased with Elsie’s progress. She’s caught the eye of many dignified young men. She’ll have her pick between men of both title and fortune, if things continue this way.”

  “How lovely,” Lady Clifton said.

  “I was just telling Lady Harriet the other day—you are familiar with her, yes? Her brother is the Earl of Ford—about Lord McGregor taking my Elsie on a drive to the park.”

  “Tea?” Lady Clifton lifted a teapot and began to pour.

  “Two sugars, please. And the article this morning, I am just overjoyed Elsie is getting the attention she deserves. Nothing will be talked about this Season more than her, I vow.”

  “You’ve not heard then?”

  I heard a drip of tea fall from the suspended teapot and splash in the cup below it. Mother was not about to admit she did not know something, and Lady Clifton was merrily guarding the gossip as if she held a freshly wrapped gift. Thus, I sacrificed for the cause.

  “Please fill me in, Lady Clifton,” I said. My mother sent me a glare and I quickly added, “I spend so much time dancing that I’ve hardly any time to hear the latest news.”

  Rosalynn’s face was a picture of concealed mirth. I yearned to laugh but miraculously kept my face straight.

  Lady Clifton took a long, slow sip of her tea and set the cup gingerly on the table. “The Green Door.”

  “Pardon?”

  “It is a novel,” Lady Clifton explained. “Rumor is circulating that the characters are real people. It has become something of a game to determine whose secrets the author has displayed for our entertainment.”

  “Oh, that.” Mother laughed shrilly. “I know of The Green Door. I have the book in my dressing room right now, I merely have not finished it yet.”

  She set her tea on the table and stood. “Come, Elsie, we have more friends to visit today. Lovely to see you, your grace.”

  Lady Clifton dipped her head in acknowledgment, a smile briefly tipping the corners of her mouth. She turned to me. “You shall be out of the spotlight soon, Miss Cox. Give this book another day or two to finish circulation and I am sure no one will even remember your name ever graced the news.”