With His Ring (Brides of Bath Book 2)

by Cheryl Bolen

  On the cold stone stairway, Gregory passed a person who must be Mrs. A. because she carried a bucket of water and rags and brushes. Gregory was startled by her youth. She was no older than he, which meant she must have given birth to Archie when she was no more than fifteen. And if he had found her son thin, Gregory must consider the mother emaciated. In fact, she was not much bigger than the little boy who was her son. Gregory had to fight the urge to carry the woman's heavy bucket of wash water for her. Poor, wretched woman!

  Her blond hair was the same shade as her son's. She wore one patched muslin dress over another, both of which hung on her bones. Her tiny feet were shod in heavy leather boots that lacked laces and were much too big for her.

  "Good morning," Gregory said, tipping his hat to her as they passed on the stairs.

  She merely nodded her response as she whisked past him.

  And he smelled the gin.

  The knowledge that Archie's mother was a soaker sickened him. Was that why Archie knew his mother would not fit in at Blankenship House? Could a lad of eight who had known no other life be wise enough to be ashamed of his mother? Poor lad.

  Throughout the day, no matter what important documents he was being asked to peruse, Gregory could not remove his thoughts from Archie and his youthful mother. There must be something he could do for them.

  "Do you bring your lunch here, Hopkins?" Gregory asked the solicitor's young clerk.

  "Yes. Every day. Would you care to share it with me?"

  "It's very kind of you to offer, but no. However, I have a . . .a small business matter I would like to propose to you."

  Hopkins arched a brow.

  "Could I impose on your cook to prepare three lunches each day? I'm willing to pay five pounds a month for such a service."

  Hopkins started coughing. "Five pounds! 'Tis almost as much as I earn in a month! Can I be persuaded you are in earnest?"

  Gregory's gaze was unwavering as he nodded. "I'm in earnest. I wish to know the urchin and his wretched mother have one good meal each day."

  "For that kind of money, they can have a feast," Hopkins exclaimed.

  Gregory patted the man's shoulder. "That's my hope." Then Gregory produced five sovereigns from his pocket and counted them out for Hopkins.

  He went into Willowby's inner office and worked with the solicitor for several hours. He had known his father was rich, but he'd had no idea his father possessed such vast holdings of property. And money in several banks. Not to mention the stocks. No wonder his father desired that Gregory put his wild days and rakish ways behind him before he could be fit to manage such vast estates.

  Throughout the tedious business with Willowby, a nagging worry over the lad beset Gregory. But he did not know what else he could do. He would have to talk it over with Glee.

  * * *

  Glee had not dressed for dinner when she came rushing down the stairs the minute Hampton opened the door to Gregory. Taking both of Gregory's hands, she studied him under lowered brows. "My poor Blanks," she said soothingly, "you look so very tired."

  He unconsciously brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed it. "I am tired. Devilishly so."

  She slipped her arm into his. "Come, let's go to the library and sit before the fire. A glass of sherry is just the thing to relax you."

  He sat on the silk damask sofa near the fire while Glee poured him a glass of sherry.

  "Thank you, my dear," he said when she handed him the glass.

  She sat beside him and smiled. His gaze swept over her. She really was a taking little thing. And so cognizant of what it took to make him happy. He sipped the smooth sherry and settled back, happy to be warm at last. Willowby's office had been devilishly cold, but here warmth from the blazing fire permeated the entire library and spread contentment over him.

  "I do so like it when you call me my dear," she said. "By the way, you'll get the opportunity to call me any number of endearments tonight."

  "Tonight? he asked with disappointment. "I thought we weren't going out tonight."

  "Oh, we aren't. It's just that Felicity and Thomas have come to Bath, and I've invited them for dinner."

  Gregory scratched his head. "Did we know they were coming?"

  "Heavens, no! They just decided rather on the spur of the moment. It's my opinion Felicity means to keep a watchful eye on me—you know, assure herself you're treating me properly. She'll want to see you lavish affection upon me, of course."

  "Of course."

  "I daresay she wants to see for herself that Mrs. Ennis is out of the picture."

  Gregory gritted his teeth. He rued the day he had taken the lavender-eyed beauty to his bed. Just as maddening as Glee's far-too-frequent references to Carlotta was Glee's complete lack of jealousy. He would have liked it if Glee were just a little jealous. "The lady in question is history."

  Glee affected a pout. "Poor Blanks."

  "Why do you call me Poor Blanks?"

  "Because you've had to give up so much. I know Mrs. Ennis must have meant a great deal to you."

  "I've told you any number of times I don't wish to discuss the woman. She's nothing to me."

  Glee slid her hand along the side of his face. "You've had a most fatiguing day. I declare there's nothing more tiresome than sitting and looking at figures all day. I vow, 'tis more exhausting than digging in the garden." She glanced up at him and smiled. "Though I daresay you've likely never dug in a garden in your life."

  "My lack of skills is only exceeded by my propensity to get in scrapes."

  Glee scowled. "You've been listening to that wretched Aurora for too long."

  He could not help but to smile at the fiery little woman who was his greatest champion. Some good things came along with this marriage. Unfortunately, he would not be allowed to partake of most of them. Before he knew what he was doing, he lifted Glee's tiny hand and pressed a kiss into it.

  She smiled. "What was that for?"

  "For your loyalty," he said throatily.

  "I told you I'll always be your best friend. In that respect I shall be a true wife to you, even if we aren't married in the real sense."

  He couldn't get a read on her. She did care for him. She always had. She had even told him she enjoyed kissing him. He laughed to himself when he remembered her vow to improve her kissing. He could not see any need for improvement. Just thinking about pressing his lips to hers aroused him. Which wouldn't do at all. Nor would it do any good for Glee to fall in love with him, as Carlotta had done. The only thing constant about his affections was their inconstancy. And it wouldn't do at all to hurt Glee. Precious little Glee.

  Her eyes shone as she watched him. "You must allow me to tell you what I've had Cook prepare for our dinner. There's to be a magnificent roast beef, stewed eels, plum pudding, buttered lobster and many vegetables, though I know you're not overly fond of vegetables."

  "With all of my favorite foods, I shan't have to eat any of the vegetables. It sounds like a very good meal, indeed. I must commend you on your household management. You're doing a fine job." If only he knew what she had done with the blasted earrings.

  "I daresay there's room for improvement. By the way, dearest, did you see Archie today?" she asked.

  A grim line settled on his lips. "I did. I saw his mother, too. She's barely older than you, and she's skinny like him. I have reason to believe she prefers gin to eating."

  Glee winced. "Her poor son."

  "The thing of it is, I don't know how I can help them."

  "The crowns you pay him are of some help," she consoled.

  "Yes, the lad told me he makes more in a single day than his mother earns in a month."

  "That's terrible, but you must console yourself that people of that class do know how to economize, to get their money to last."

  "But," he said, "people who live for their gin are a different breed altogether. It's my understanding they're given to focusing their entire lives on their drink."

  "Oh dear."

 
; He tussled her hair. "I'm sure you've no experience with soakers."

  "Only George," she said with resignation. "Before he married."

  Gregory laughed. "Your brother was not a soaker. He drank to excess when he was young and with friends. A real soaker is one who drinks with or without friends. One who has to drink every day. One who becomes quite ill when not allowed to drink."

  "Oh dear. How does one go about changing a soaker?"

  "There are many who say it cannot be done. Once a drunk, always a drunk. I understand some of them have the best of intentions but somehow cannot seem to help themselves."

  "We must think of something, Blanks."

  He nodded and rose. "We'd best get ready for dinner."

  She stood and tucked her arm into his.

  As they climbed the stairs, he asked, "Will you need help fastening your jewels?"

  She stiffened. "Patty can help."

  So his wife did not need his assistance, he reflected bitterly. Was it his presence that repulsed her or her guilt over the earrings?

  * * *

  "A very good dinner, my love," Gregory said to Glee, who sat at the opposite end of the table from him, candlelight casting shadows on her lovely face. He had scarcely been able to remove his eyes from her all night. As the light flickered off her creamy chest and her elegant neck, he found himself longing to kiss a trail along her milky flesh.

  She looked up at him and smiled.

  Only a blind man could have failed to notice how fetching his wife looked tonight. She wore an emerald gown made of the sheerest silk that hugged the graceful curves of her body. Her eyes matched the green gown perfectly, as did the family jewels she wore.

  Because of his contentment with Glee, it had not been difficult to praise her, to toss her lovelorn looks or to murmur endearments—all for the benefit of her sister, of course.

  In fact, that sister's husband served ably as a role model for Gregory, for he clearly worshiped his wife.

  When the first course was removed, along with Felicity's untouched eel, Thomas Moreland had lowered his brows. "Is anything the matter, love? I see you did not eat the eel."

  "Everything's perfect, my sweet," she answered. "It's so perfect, in fact, that I cannot begin to eat all of it. I must save room for the buttered lobster. You know what a particular favorite it is of mine."

  Her husband smiled, but his worries apparently mounted again during the next course. "I declare, my love," he began, "your color is off. You're so very pale. Are you feeling quite the thing?"

  Felicity tossed back her head and laughed. "Honestly, Thomas, if you won't stop your wretched worrying over me, I swear I'll never bear you another child—and I know you want several."

  Gregory's glance swept to Thomas. He wished to gauge Moreland's reaction. Would the man honestly desire that his cherished wife go through birthing again? And again? Until he lost her?

  "I know you keep assuring me of your hardiness, my love, but I do so worry," Thomas said.

  There had been a time when Gregory would have thought it unmanly for a man—especially a big, strapping man like Moreland—to be so completely besotted over a woman, but now Gregory was beginning to learn that such deep affection was as a much part of life as cutting teeth. He'd just seen bloody little of it in his life.

  While a bit too much in love with his wife, Moreland did make a rather good pattern card for Gregory to copy. After all, he must convince the Morelands—and Jonathan—of his love for Glee.

  "Did you find anything amusing to do today, my love?" Gregory asked Glee.

  She nodded. "Thanks to your considerate friends—Timothy and the twins—I was able to go to the Pump Room this morning."

  "Was there a terrible crush there?" he asked.

  "Enough. Felicity signed the book, so I daresay Winston Hall will be converged upon tomorrow."

  "I hope my friends had the good manners to take you for a turn about the Pump Room?"

  "Timothy had the good manners to fetch my water, but I had to settle for Mr. Jefferson to walk me about the chamber."

  Anger boiled within him. Why would that scoundrel not leave his wife alone? Was the fiend bent on getting even with him because of that nasty business with Miss Douglas?

  Glee set down her fork and directed a glance at her husband. "You will be pleased to know all three of your friends warned me not to become too friendly with Mr. Jefferson. They said you wouldn't like it above half."

  Only with the greatest restraint was Gregory able to keep his voice from trembling with anger. "They were correct."

  She pushed her turnips about her plate with a fork and did not meet his gaze. "I daresay Mr. Jefferson's a bounder, but I fail to see what harm it would do for me to speak to the man. I declare, it would cause more suspicion were I to cut him or avoid him entirely."

  "You must trust me on this, my dear. I only want what's best for you." Now he was beginning to sound like the besotted Thomas Moreland!

  "You must listen to your husband on this matter," Felicity said firmly.

  * * *

  After dinner Glee and Felicity retired to the saloon and sat next to one another on a silken sofa.

  "You look so lovely, my pet," Felicity said, covering her sister's hand with her own. "Marriage must agree with you."

  Glee swallowed. "I've never been happier." In spite of the fact her husband neither loved her nor wanted her, Glee truly was happy. Being with Blanks every day, greedily accepting any affection he might choose to cast her way, filled her with love. Also, she liked being mistress of a house, being married to a man of means. Most of all, she just liked being with Blanks day in and day out. Had she the choice, she would not hesitate to marry him again.

  "I confess," Felicity said, "I never thought anyone could love a man as dearly as I love Thomas, but I believe you care for dear Blanks in the same way. And I think he loves you as Thomas loves me."

  "That would be my fondest wish, but Blanks has a great distance to go before he'll love me that much. Don't forget Thomas loved you, and only you, for the six long years he was off in India, dreaming of coming home and winning your love. Then the poor man had to patiently wait another half year before you finally realized you had fallen in love with him. And now. . .to tell you the truth, Thomas is quite obnoxious in his devotion!"

  "How dare you say my precious husband is obnoxious!" Felicity playfully chided. Then she leaned toward Glee and whispered, "To tell you the truth, I'm just as obnoxious over him. He's not always the mushy, moon-eyed lover. He's wise and strong and good-hearted while maintaining the admiration of other, less powerful men."

  "You don't have to convince me. I've seen him when he's in one of his kingly modes."

  "And I've seen a tremendous change come over Blanks," Felicity said. "I know it's only been two weeks, but he seems so much more mature."

  Being with Blanks every day, Glee had been unable to detect a change in him, but now that she thought on it, she realized Felicity was right. He was more mature. Hadn't she called him an old stick any number of times? Marriage truly had changed him. He backed away from the pranks he would have heartily endorsed only weeks before. He was taking his responsibilities with his father's estate quite seriously, even though it was tedious. And he grew troubled over those who were less fortunate. She smiled to herself. Blanks was changing. For the better.

  His father, bless his everlasting soul, had known her beloved Blanks better than Blanks knew himself.

  "Marriage does seem to have matured Blanks," Glee agreed. "He even assures me he no longer keeps his mistress."

  Color hiked up Felicity's face. "I wish you wouldn't talk about such matters, but I daresay a pleasured man has no need to seek another bed." She looked up at Glee and smiled. "So it must be that you are properly warming your husband's bed, pet."

  "Properly?" Glee said with a sly smile. "I was hoping it was improperly!"

  Felicity smiled into the fan she held over her blushing face. "I daresay you've changed even more tha
n your husband."

  "Well, I have become a woman."

  She heard the sound of the door closing and turned her head to see Blanks enter the saloon and walk toward her, a smoldering look in his eyes.

  "Yes, you have become a woman, my love," he said as he walked to her and bent to plant a light kiss on the back of her neck.

  A tingle raced down her spine. It was such a simple little gesture on his part, yet it unraveled her tight control. She smiled up at him. If this was how he was going to act in front of her sister, Glee prayed Felicity would come to Blankenship House several times a day.

  The two men sat across from them.

  "My sister was just saying how much more mature you seem," Glee said to Blanks. "You know, Blanks, I believe your father would be proud of the man you've become."

  He stiffened for a second, then his slow smile came. "Do you think so?"

  "Undoubtedly. I, too, am very proud of you, my dearest." Whether her husband liked it or not, Glee loved to voice endearments.

  Tired from their journey, Felicity and Thomas did not stay late. After seeing them to the door, Gregory and Glee mounted the stairs together, hand in hand, as was their custom.

  When they came to Glee's door, she looked up at him. "Shall we practice my kissing?"

  He began to laugh. "It's more fun when it's unplanned. Spontaneous. You'll have to wait until I'm again struck by the impulse to kiss you." By Jove, but it was bloody difficult not to take her in his arms this very minute and crush her to him. But he had to be careful. Glee's heart was too fragile to toy with.

  He pressed a kiss on top her lovely head. "Good night, sweet Glee."

  "Good night, dearest."

  He smiled all the way to his chamber. Stanley had waited up for him and helped him undress.

  Then Gregory collapsed onto his bed. It had been a tiring day. He was glad Glee had not made plans to leave the house this evening. That was one thing about the girl who was his wife. She seemed to have an instinctive knowledge of what he wanted and what he didn't want. She really was the perfect wife.

  He thought of laying a trail of kisses down her slender neck and to the sweet valley between her breasts. And, sweet heavens, but he wanted her. He tried to tell himself it was just that he had been without a woman for too long. Which he undoubtedly had. It had been three months. He could not remember ever going that long without a woman. The trouble was, he didn't want another woman.