A Scandalous Arrangement

by Ashe Barker

  There should be a note from him by now. Surely he had not changed his mind?

  “You should be leaving soon if you are going to the awards dinner at the Assembly Hall this evening.” Mr. Timmins appeared in the doorway, his outdoor coat over his arm. “I rather fancy our fine worsted might take the first prize this year.”

  Victoria looked up and shook her head. “I do not believe I will go after all. I am tired, and I have correspondence to deal with.”

  “Oh, I had thought you intended to be there this year. You even went so far as to purchase a gown, I gather.”

  Victoria frowned at him across her desk. Mr. Timmins seemed to be far too well informed in her view. She no doubt had her mother to thank for that. “I required a new gown so I ordered one, but it was not bought with any particular function in mind. There will be other occasions.”

  The gown in question was a particularly becoming shade of deep blue though and would have looked stunning in the grand surroundings of the Halifax Assembly Hall. With some difficulty she had convinced herself that she really should make the effort and attend the annual Weavers and Spinners Awards Dinner this year. She did not enjoy these functions much at the best of times, found them something of an ordeal in fact, but such gatherings were good for trade, for making connections, and for courting new customers.

  Her appetite for socialising with the wool barons of the county was meagre at best, but in the recent weeks she had lost it entirely, not least as every one of them would know of her brother’s idiotic wager and the consequences it had held for Wynne’s. That her mill was still trading at all would be the subject of much speculation, and she did not relish the prospect of answering questions about her current status. On the other hand, maybe she needed to quash any ridiculous rumours—the last thing she needed right now was any uncertainty about her ability to meet her orders. She hesitated for a moment, then shook her head.

  “No, not this time.” She just couldn’t face them.

  “I see. In that case—”

  “What occasions might those be, I wonder?”

  Mr. Timmins turned to see who spoke. Victoria had no such need. She would know that voice anywhere.

  “Mr. Luke, how nice to see you again.” Her clerk offered his hand in greeting. Adam took it and shook.

  Victoria sat in her leather chair, mouth open, and gaped. She had expected a letter, yearned for a note from him. She had not dreamed the man himself might materialise in her office doorway. Perhaps she should have—he was starting to make a habit of turning up unannounced at her mill.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Timmins. Were you just off then?” Adam nodded in the direction of the man’s coat, still draped across his arm.

  “Ah, yes. Yes, I was just leaving. Unless you need me for anything?”

  Adam smiled. “No, I just called to see Miss Wynne. I am sure we will manage admirably. Have a pleasant evening.”

  “Yes, sir. Will I see you in the morning, perhaps?”

  “Alas not. A flying visit only, I’m afraid.” He waited until the man excused himself and backed from the room before turning the full force of his smile on Victoria. “Miss Wynne, lovely as ever. And working late still I note, despite my instructions to the contrary.”

  Victoria quaked, not misunderstanding his meaning. Had he instructed her? More to the point, did he intend to spank her here? Now?

  It seemed not as he continued to bestow that pleasant demeanour upon her. “Am I to gather you have a social engagement this evening? Am I interrupting you? Perhaps I should have sent word that I would be arriving.”

  “No, si…” She stopped herself from addressing him improperly. Mr. Timmins might still be within earshot. “No, I have no plans for the evening.”

  “But you have a new gown. Mr. Timmins says so.”

  “I do, but…” Victoria let out her breath. There was no point in being evasive, he would have the truth from her one way or another. “It is the Weavers and Spinners Dinner and Awards ceremony this evening. We are optimistic of a prize this year, perhaps even the first prize.”

  “Then you should be there, surely?”

  “Perhaps, but… I hate such affairs. I really would prefer not to go.”

  “Why, if our fine cloth is to be honoured?” Adam grinned at her as he settled himself in the spare chair opposite. “It might be good for trade.”

  “Hard work and high-quality products are good for trade. I rely on those.”

  “And quite right too. Even so, the wheels of commerce do require the occasional oiling. And I would appreciate seeing this gown of yours, not to mention making the acquaintance of our competitors. We should go. I insist.”

  “We? You would wish to join me?”

  “Indeed I would. I want to talk to you, and this will afford me the opportunity. And it would no doubt assist in settling unhelpful speculation if we were to be seen together, as business partners of course.”

  “But—it is a most formal function. Black tie.”

  He lifted one eyebrow, his expression sardonic. “Are you afraid I will disgrace you, Miss Wynne? I assure you I know my manners. I will not eat with the wrong cutlery, nor will I step on your toes during the waltz.”

  “I do not waltz, Mr. Luke. And I did not mean that. I simply meant that all the men will be wearing dinner jackets…”

  “I believe I will be able to achieve the correct sartorial standards, Victoria. I have luggage at the station and will make arrangements to have it conveyed to Wynne House at once. We can change there. Should I order a carriage too to take us to the event, or do you already keep one? Where is this illustrious affair to be held, anyway?”

  “A carriage? No, we do not… I mean, it is in Halifax. But…”

  He stood and offered her his elbow. “And you will waltz with me, Miss Wynne. I will insist upon it. We really should be getting along then. Are you done here?”

  Her head reeling, it did not occur to Victoria to do other than rise and link arms with him. “Yes, I am quite finished. But, I do not understand. If this is a flying visit, why would you have a full set of evening wear in your luggage? And how long are you able to stay?”

  “Ah, well, that is why I needed to call on you unexpectedly. Ill-mannered of me, I do realise…” He led her down the stairs to her personal entrance at the rear of the mill. Victoria made no comment on his choice of route, though she did note that he seemed entirely familiar with her property. He had clearly not wasted those hours on his last visit while she remained in bed half the morning.

  “That is perfectly all right, sir. I am delighted to see you.” An understatement, but it would have to suffice. In particular she was ready to admit to herself that she found the prospect of attending the annual awards dinner on his arm infinitely more attractive than her previous solitary plans. And after… “Do you intend to stay at Wynne House tonight, sir? I believe the room you occupied last time has been aired.”

  “Yes, if that is quite acceptable to you.”

  “It is your house, sir.” Her remark lacked the acrimony such words would have held just days before.

  Adam gestured to her to precede him through the outer door then turned to close it behind him. “Do you have the key?”

  She produced it from the pocket of her second best working day gown and waited while he secured the lock. He returned the key to her and offered her his arm once more. “Well, that is one of the matters that brought me here with such urgency today. I have with me the papers transferring Wynne House to your sole ownership. You just need to sign them in order to complete the transaction. So you could, if you wish, refuse me your hospitality.”

  “I will not do that, Mr. Luke. You are most welcome.”

  Adam paused, turned to her. “Would it cause you embarrassment, Victoria, if I were to kiss you? Here, in the open, in full view of your home and any passers-by?”

  Victoria smiled up at him. “I believe that would cause no lasting harm, sir.”
<
br />   He grinned back, his expression warm, playful even. He tipped her chin further up with the tips of his fingers. “Ah, Miss Wynne, I will leave you with a sore bottom—disobedience must be punished, as I am sure you understand—but I would never wish to cause you lasting harm.”

  “Of course, sir.” Victoria managed to murmur her response an instant before his lips brushed hers.

  * * *

  “Mr. Luke, this is a most pleasant surprise.” Hester Wynne emerged from her drawing room, drawn no doubt by the sound of voices in her hallway. She rushed to her visitor, hands outstretched. “We had not expected to see you again so soon. Victoria, you should have told me to prepare for a guest.”

  “I did not—”

  Adam interrupted her. “It is entirely my fault, Mrs. Wynne. Victoria was not expecting me either. I trust I am not inconveniencing you unduly.”

  “Not at all, not at all. You will stay for dinner, I assume.”

  Victoria took up the arrangements. “Mr. Luke has kindly offered to accompany me to the Weavers and Spinners Awards Dinner this evening so we will just take a light meal before we leave, if that is convenient. I have invited Mr. Luke to stay with us tonight though. Is his previous room ready, do you know?”

  “I am sure it is. Or will be.”

  “I am most grateful, Mrs. Wynne. I wonder, might I prevail upon you even further for the use of one of your servants to drive down to Hebden Bridge station to collect my luggage from there?”

  Hester called for the downstairs maid and issued rapid instructions. Within moments a lad from the gardens had been dispatched to the station, and the upstairs maid was set to laying a fire in their best guest room. Hester insisted on serving tea in the drawing room until the arrangements were accomplished.

  “So, Mr. Luke, will you be remaining with us for several days then?” Hester’s question was no doubt prompted by the mention of the trunk at the station. Victoria was as eager as her mother to know his plans.

  Adam sipped his tea, then replaced the delicate china in the saucer with a soft clink. “Sadly no, Mrs. Wynne. I sail for New York tomorrow, from Liverpool. On the afternoon tide.”

  “What?” Victoria’s teacup reconnected with her saucer with somewhat less decorous clang. Her mother’s eyebrow lifted, her disapproval of such treatment for her finest porcelain quite apparent. Victoria ignored her. “America? You are going to America?”

  Adam offered her a smile, though his expression was serious now. “I am. I have urgent matters to attend to that only came to my attention yesterday. I have interests in New York that require my direct intervention. I knew that, and had intended to make the trip in a couple of weeks’ time, but another opportunity has arisen unexpectedly, which I would not wish to miss. Land has become available for sale close to New Orleans. I have been seeking such an opportunity for some time and have agents ready to inform me should a suitable opening occur. One has, and I prefer to view the property personally before making what will be a sizable investment. The site will not be on the market for long. I cannot delay, so will combine the two deals in one trip.”

  Hester nodded her approval. “Ah, of course. The demands of business. You should not miss the opportunity, clearly. Liverpool, you say…?”

  “Yes. I have several vessels docked there. The Viking is scheduled to depart for New York tomorrow so I telegraphed her captain to reserve a berth on board. I will need to be on my way by lunchtime.”

  “I see. But you have made something of a detour, have you not, Mr. Luke, especially since you seem to find yourself in such a hurry.” Victoria was thinking much the same thing but said nothing. Her mother was asking all the right questions.

  “There were matters I needed to discuss with Miss Wynne. Affairs pertaining to the partnership between us, and of course to the transfer of this house back to your family. I did not wish to delay those so I left London a day earlier than I might have done in order to come here. I prefer to deal with these things in person, I am sure you will understand.”

  Victoria rather thought that her mother’s expression suggested she did not entirely grasp the need he described to present himself here in person, but Hester Wynne was far too polite to comment. Instead her mother bowed her head, replaced her own teacup on the tray, and excused herself.

  “You will need to talk then, and I will not disturb you further. Please feel free to remain here, though of course the library is also at your disposal. I expect Georgina and I will be in bed by the time you return from Halifax, but we will look forward to seeing you at breakfast, Mr. Luke.”

  He stood, offered her a formal bow. “I am grateful for your understanding, madam. And for your unfailing hospitality. We will attempt not to disturb the household on our return.”

  Hester waved her hand at him in airy dismissal. “Ah, but we are heavy sleepers here, Mr. Luke. Pleased do not be concerned about that. Enjoy your evening.”

  As the door clicked shut behind her mother, Victoria got to her feet. “New York to New Orleans? That is a considerable distance. This will be a lengthy trip.”

  “Several weeks, certainly. I would anticipate being back in England within about two months however.” He lowered his tone as he crossed the room to where she stood. “And I expect you to be waiting for me.”

  She lowered her gaze. “Of course, sir. I, I will miss you.”

  “And I will miss you, Victoria. This trip is a nuisance, I would have avoided it if I could. Especially as we were becoming so well acquainted. I have interesting plans for you, which I had hoped to progress quite rapidly.”

  “I see.”

  “I am sure you do not, or you would not appear quite so calm. My plans include whipping you, caning you, spanking you in ways you cannot start to imagine, and paying particular homage to your delightful little arsehole. There is more, naturally, but we will come to all of it in time.”

  Victoria had believed herself acclimatised to his particular preferences but his explicit descriptions brought a heat to her face that she could not conceal. Especially as Adam insisted on cupping her chin and forcing her to meet his gaze.

  “Ah, I have shocked you. Good. You will have ample time whilst I am away to anticipate my wishes and to come to terms with my intentions. Do you still believe you will miss me?”

  “Yes, sir. I will.” She had no doubt about that, despite his scandalous objectives for her person. “I will look forward to your return. Will you be able to let me know when to expect you?” Was she being too needy? Too demanding?

  “Of course. I will write to you when my plans are clear. You will be able to contact me through Horace Catchpole if there is anything of a more commercial nature that requires my attention. As to the rest…” He cocked his head, seemed to be amused at the flush that deepened across her cheeks. “…as to the rest, I suspect Horace would struggle to advise you. Save any such queries for my return.”

  “I will, sir.” Victoria hesitated, wondering if she might ask her next question. He appeared relaxed and in a good humour though, so she decided to press him. “Why did you come here in person? I am delighted to see you, of course, but I was expecting a note from you. That is what you told me you would do. You could have simply written to me, explained your change of plans. I would have understood.”

  He tightened his grip on her chin, angled her face to better meet her eyes. “Would you? I doubt it. After the weekend we spent, if I had sent you a formal note to tell you I had been unexpectedly called away on business, for several weeks at least, and that you were to await my further instructions—what would you have made of that? Truthfully, Victoria?”

  “I, I would have believed you, sir. Why would I not?”

  “You would have tried to believe me, I don’t doubt. You would have spent the weeks I was away hoping our arrangement had not faltered at the first hurdle. I do not flatter myself that your regard is personal. I fully appreciate that you have clear business objectives here and you would not harbour any
desire to see them thwarted. So rather than risk unsettling you, I prefer to explain in person, and to be assured that you do indeed understand, and that you know I will be back.”

  Victoria closed her eyes, her last defence against the unfamiliar feelings churning in her stomach. Her bottom was clenching, the effects of his earlier explicit statements, but her inner turmoil was based on more than that. She may not like to admit it, even to herself, but this arrangement was about a lot more than just business, more even than the baby she longed for.

  She would miss him. It was that simple.

  Two months. That was not an eternity. It would pass. Slowly, but eventually it would pass and he would return.

  “Thank you, sir. For being so considerate.”

  “You are welcome, Miss Wynne. And now, before we retire to our rooms to prepare to dazzle the assembled elite of the Yorkshire wool trade, there is one further matter requiring our attention.”

  “Sir?”

  “Did I not expressly forbid you to work long hours? I instructed you to recruit an assistant, or better still I suggested that you might consider promoting Mr. Timmins and getting an assistant for him. I do not wish you to be spending evenings in your office, or worse still, bringing correspondence home to work on.”

  “I…”

  He laid a finger across her lips. “I heard what you said to Mr. Timmins, just before I made my presence known. You were going to miss the soirée in Halifax, and instead spend the evening in your library with your ledgers. Not good, Miss Wynne. Absolutely not what I require of you. I have made that clear already, but I see I must reinforce my message. Another spanking is in order.”

  “Shall we…? I mean, the library…?”

  He shook his head. “No, I believe we will manage perfectly well here. I doubt your mother will come back, and the servants are unlikely to disturb us.”