“He said he would not do it.” She suspected he had finally agreed only to make her go away. “If a lady asked you to marry her, would you?”
“If she’d called in secret at my home and wagered herself against my sister’s future? No.”
“Why not? I am not an antidote and I do have a marriage portion.”
“T, if a man’s got any honor in him he wouldn’t treat a lady in a manner he wouldn’t want his own sisters to be treated, would he?”
He had a point. And Toby didn’t know the half of it.
She didn’t care what the gossips said about the earl’s unsavory past. He was trying to protect her from herself.
“Listen here, T, I won’t let you go near him again until I’ve spoken with him and learned something of his character and his intentions toward you,” Tobias said firmly.
“He doesn’t have any intentions toward me. I think he would rather I go away.”
“Be that as it may, he’s got fodder for gossip now that could ruin your reputation.”
“Toby, Papa and Mama have determined that Mr. Waldon is my destiny. If I ruin my reputation here perhaps he will refuse to take me.”
“And every other man!”
She shrugged. “Then it seems that my brothers’ future wives will be obliged to put up with old spinster Aunt Teresa as a permanent house guest.”
He chuckled. “Nonsense. Now come on. Collect your cloak and we’ll find some gowns and what-have-you’s so Mama will be happy you’ve done your duty to her.”
She pursed her lips and shifted her eyes away.
Her brother’s mouth flattened. “You invented that story, didn’t you?”
“I did. I came to London only to find Lord Eads and make him marry me.”
“An I for one think it a grand plan.” The voice that came from the doorway was clear and warm.
“Lady Una Eads and Lady Moira Eads,” the footman announced.
Aha! Moira was the beautiful one.
Teresa went forward. “How kind of you to call. I never imagined you would.”
Una’s vibrant blue eyes met hers honestly. “We almost didna. Ye left no card. We were at a loss until I demanded that ma brither reveal how ye kent o’ him. He refused to tell me more than the name o’ the gentleman whose house this is.”
Teresa’s heart did a little twist. He had not told her the truth. He did remember seeing her that night with Diantha at Lady Beaufetheringstone’s ball.
She recalled her manners. “Mr. and Mrs. Yale are not in now. But please allow me to make you acquainted with my brother.”
Tobias bowed. Una nodded. Moira performed a lovely curtsey, her satiny dark curls dangling about her brow and neck and her gentle blue eyes downcast.
“Miss Finch-Freeworth,” Lady Una said, “our brither wouldna explain yer extraordinary proposal, so we’ve come to make sense o’ it.”
“There is really nothing to make sense of.”
Una’s slender brows rose. Tobias folded his hands behind his back.
“I wish to marry him.”
“That we already understood,” Una said with a slight grin. “But he’s flustered enough aboot it that we wanted to hear the rest o’ it from ye.”
“You flustered an earl, T?” Tobias said. “Well done.”
“I’d the same thought maself, sir.” Una’s grin widened.
Tobias smiled back at her. He seemed completely unaffected by the Aphrodite beside her.
Teresa’s pulse was spinning. She had flustered him. “I made a wager with him that if I found husbands for you and your sisters he must marry me.”
“He told me as much, though I thought he was funning.” Una’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “In truth it seems a fine plan. But are ye a virtuous leddy, Miss Finch-Freeworth?”
“Now see here, miss,” Tobias said, his shoulders squaring. Lady Una set a curious gaze on him. “That is, my lady,” he amended. “My sister is the best sort imaginable. If she wishes your brother to court her then she must know he is an honorable man.”
“Aye, he is. A’ times too honorable for his own guid.”
Moira looked between them, a little smile playing about her rosebud lips.
Una nodded decisively. “Weel, I dinna suppose we’re helping ye match-
make by holding ye here nou, are we? Ye’d best get on wi’ it, Miss Finch-
Freeworth.” Her eyes sparkled.
Teresa’s breath shot out in relief. “Do call me Teresa.”
“If we’re to be sisters,” Moira said sweetly, “ye must call us by our given names too.” She extended a delicate hand for Teresa to shake. “I’m Moira, and I hope ye marry our brither, Teresa.”
Tobias cleared his throat. “Ladies, with all due respect to my sister’s uncanny sense of a man’s good character and to your filial loyalty, I insist on meeting Lord Eads before this outrageous program proceeds any further.”
“Naturally,” Lady Una said.
“And I should like your word,” he said, his face becoming very sober now, “that news of this project will remain among us.”
“Sir,” Lady Moira said softly, “since she’s to be our sister, it wouldna serve us otherwise, would it?”
He looked to Lady Una who smiled.
“All right.” He stepped forward and took Una’s hand on his arm. “Shall we be off?”
The sisters had walked over. Teresa was accustomed to walking miles in the countryside, but not in London.
“We’re no living in the flat nou,” Una said. “We anly walked ten blocks.”
Tobias met Teresa’s gaze and he nodded once. Her heart warmed. He would find a carriage for them. She suspected he had plenty of things on which to spend his allowance, especially now that he was currying favor with gentlemen who could help him find a position in the War Office, which was his fervent hope. But he would help the poor Eads sisters because it meant helping his own sister. He was a prince among brothers.
He sent a footman to the corner to hail a hackney cab and they set off.
When the carriage drew up on the outside edge of the fashionable quarter of town before a tall, many-windowed building flying the flag of Britain, Teresa’s brow wrinkled.
“This is a hotel. It cannot be—”
“Home,” Una said. “Aye, ’tis nou.”
Neither elegant nor shabby, fashionable or dowdy, the Hotel King Harry was a modest place with rugged, sturdy appointments and equally rugged and sturdy footmen. Una and Moira led them toward a door from which issued forth the uncertain notes of a pianoforte.
The scene within was considerably worse than that which Teresa had witnessed at the earl’s flat.
In the center of the parlor young Effie, giggling raucously, twirled about between two grinning soldiers in grimy uniforms. Her twin sat at the piano, poking out the tune, with Elspeth glowering at her shoulder. In a corner Abigail was curled up in a chair with her feet tucked under her, a book on her knees. A birdlike, grey-haired lady garbed entirely in black lace and wool sat at a window amidst the sisters, her gaze trained on the street.
“Good gracious,” Teresa uttered under her breath.
Una’s lips twitched. “Meet ma sisters, Teresa.”
Lady Effie twirled around. “Miss Finch-Freeworth! Ye needn’t find a husband for me. I already have two suitors.” She giggled again and threw her hand into a soldier’s.
Her twin’s playing faltered. “Oh! She is here!” She stood and knocked the sheet music off the stand with her elbow. “Welcome back, miss.”
Lady Elspeth frowned. Lady Abigail’s head came up as though she were waking from a deep sleep.
With a decisive breath, Teresa marched into the room. “Good day.” She went to the closest soldier. He smelled of ale and something else that was very nasty.
“Well there, miss. Come to join the dancing?” He leered at her bosom.
“We’d like that, wouldn’t we, Ned?”
Ned smirked.
“Sir,” she said bracingly, “
I regret to inform you that these ladies are already spoken for by respectable gentlemen who will be calling shortly,” she fabricated. “I recommend that you depart before they discover you here.”
The soldier gave Tobias an assessing look. “Is this one of them?”
“This is my brother. He is with the War Office and it is his job to detain and interrogate former soldiers who have no gainful employment.”
The soldier’s eyes narrowed. But he said, “Come on then, Ned. No fun to be had here.”
Teresa released a silent breath of relief, never more grateful that her brother was a well-built man. He’d drawn himself up to his full height, and as the soldiers passed him at the door they gave him wide berth.
Una’s eyes twinkled. “Are ye with the War Office, sir?” she said when the soldiers had gone.
“I have hopes.” His smiled and Teresa’s heart swelled with affection.
Effie’s twin came forward. “I’m Lily. Have ye truly found husbands for us all?” Her eyes were nearly as pretty as Moira’s, and considerably more candid.
“No.”
Effie’s mouth set in a pout. “Then why did ye send those lovely gentlemen away?”
“Because they were not in fact lovely or gentlemen.” Teresa looked about at the seven people staring at her. The old woman in black had not removed her attention from the street. “If we are to do this successfully, we must do it right, which means socializing only with men suitable to court an earl’s sister.”
“But—”
“Listen to the lass, Effie,” the earl said in his deep, delicious rumble behind her. “She’s got yer best interests in mind.”
Teresa turned to him and was glad there were eight other people in the room or she might have done something astoundingly forward. He looked as rough and barbaric and thrillingly virile as the day before, and she was convinced that the devil himself had created the Earl of Eads to make her think wanton thoughts.
“Havena ye, lass?” he said.
“Yes. As well as my interests. But I would prefer it if you did not call me lass.”
“Would ye?”
“I would as well,” Tobias said firmly and moved beside her.
Lord Eads frowned. “Suitor?”
“No, Duncan.” Una grinned. “This is Mr. Finch-Freeworth. Teresa’s brither.”
The earl’s shoulders seemed to relax. He nodded at Tobias. “Come to chaperone?”
“I have.”
“Which won’t be necessary at present,” Teresa said, “as our business today is entirely of the feminine sort. But you are certainly welcome to come along if you wish, Toby.” She forced her attention away from the earl and studied his sisters gathered around. Their gowns were threadbare and their slippers scuffed. That could be easily remedied; between her and Diantha’s wardrobes they would find gowns and whatnot to suit. “We must return to my lodgings and . . .” She could not say what she intended. She could not shame him like that. “Make some plans,” she finished. “On this occasion I should like to take Ladies Moira, Lily, Abigail, and Una.” They were the prettiest, excepting defiant Effie. “May I, my lord?”
He nodded. “Ye heard the leddy,” he said to his sisters. “Be aff wi’ ye.”
Elspeth’s nostrils looked pinched. “I will remain here and read to my sister from my latest treatise on the proper comportment of modest females.”
Effie’s brow was dark. “I dinna think I like ye, Miss Finch-Freeworth. Ye remind me o’ our old nurse.”
“That’ll do, Effie.” The earl’s voice was a warning growl.
Teresa went forward and looked Effie directly in the eye. “Do not fret. I have great plans for you, Lady Effie.” Making certain she didn’t lose her innocence to a two-penny ex-soldier, for instance. She lowered her voice. “But now I need you to arrange Lady Elspeth’s hair in a fashion that will not frighten off crows. Will you do that for me?”
Effie wiggled her brows. “I may like ye after all.” She pulled Elspeth out the door.
“The carriage awaits, ladies,” Tobias said.
Lily went out with a light step, Moira following. Abigail trailed reluctantly behind. Teresa bit her lip. Perhaps the bookish sister shouldn’t be thrown into socializing immediately.
“She willna be alone, Teresa,” Una said. “We’ll be wi’ her.”
“How did you know what I was thinking?”
“Because I’ve the same worry.”
Teresa took Una’s hand. “I think I will be fortunate to have you as a friend.”
Una’s eyes crinkled at the sides. “Yer the first English leddy who’s spoken kindly to us since we’ve been in London. I’m already the fortunate one.”
“My lord,” Tobias said, “I will return momentarily.”
Lord Eads nodded. Tobias offered his arm to Una and went out.
“Your sisters gave you away, you know,” Teresa said, turning to the earl. “If you were trying to escape me by moving across town, you clearly do not know how much gossip is being bandied about concerning you and your sisters. I heard about this”—she gestured to the hotel—“before breakfast.” Invention.
But it was best to show a powerful offense.
“Blast it, woman. Ye said to move outta the flat, so I moved them.”
He had followed her advice. “I meant into a house, of course.”
“Managing female.”
“We made a deal, my lord.”
“I’m weel aware o’ that.”
“Why didn’t you send me a note telling me of your new direction?”
“Do ye be wanting a man to be sending ye private messages at yer friend’s house nou?”
“You could have disguised it as a posy.”
“I’m no courting ye, Miss Finch-Freeworth.”
True. It was rather the opposite. She could not deny that she liked the feeling of power it gave her to command a great big titled nobleman to do as she wished. At home her parents never paid her wishes any heed. But her dreams of being swept off her feet by a man had involved him doing the sweeping, not her.
That was childish, she supposed. This was real. Her future depended upon it.
“I will accomplish what I have promised.” She said it as much to convince herself as him.
“We’ll see.”
“Why did you say you did not remember seeing me at that ball last year when in fact you did?”
He said nothing for a moment, then: “Guidday, miss.” He bowed.
“Good day, my lord.”
She left. She had a month. Twenty-nine days now, to be precise. It wouldn’t do to badger him unnecessarily. Even Tobias, a gem of a man, didn’t like badgering. She had plenty of time to come to understand the man she was courting, and perhaps even to secure husbands for one or two of his sisters before someone in society discovered her program and she was cut from every drawing room in London.
Now, however, she had no time for pessimistic musings. She must outfit a bevy of bonnie lasses.
Duncan watched her brother hand her into the cab. As she stepped up, her cloak tugged tight against her full, round behind and Duncan’s cravat felt two sizes too tight.
He should not be allowing this. Two days earlier he should have told her to leave him be in no uncertain terms, then he should have said nothing to Una.
But he’d been a bit outta his mind at the time.
She had come to him.
It wasn’t to be believed. He’d thought about her often in the past eighteen months while he’d been trying to make something of the disaster his father left of the estate. He’d not been able to forget her. Only twice in his life had the mere sight of a woman across a room spun his world upside down.
The first time that happened, his fragile Marie paid for it with her life and the life of their wee bairn. The doctor said it’d been the babe’s size—big like his father—too big for his dainty mother to bring forth. Even seven years later, the dark hollowness that had grown inside him from the day he’d held her breathless body in
his arms and knew he’d killed her still clung to him. He’d not curse another woman like that. Miss Teresa Finch-Freeworth with her outrageous propositions and warm, vibrant smile deserved better.
He scowled. He’d enough of managing females now, anyway. Seven of them.
Seven husbands for seven brides . . .
She meant to go through with it. If she did, he’d be honor bound to kiss her, touch her, and make love to her. Then to wed her.
He couldn’t allow it. He’d not use a woman like that for any reason, not when he didn’t intend to marry her. But she was as determined as she was bonnie. He’d have to deter her from pursuing her program.
Finch-Freeworth closed the carriage door and with a firm stride returned to him.
“My lord, your sisters seem like gentlewomen and I don’t mind my sister going about town with them. But I’ll know what intentions you have toward her or I’ll make an end to their acquaintance this instant.”
Duncan liked his directness. “I’ve no intentions toward yer sister.”
“She said that. But she’s prepared to go to a great deal of trouble on your behalf. If she succeeds—”
“She willna.” He’d make certain of it. He knew a few places in town where bachelors were in short supply. He’d fill the month with visits to every one of them.
“Probably, but she’s a good-hearted girl and I won’t stand for her being hurt. Or worse.” He stood in a fighting stance now. Clearly he had soldiering in his past. “Are you a man of good character where women are concerned?”
“If ye care to learn o’ ma character, sir, ye’d best be inquiring o’ Yale. He’ll tell ye all ye need.”
There. He’d done it. Wyn Yale—damn his hide—would tell Finch-
Freeworth the truth, and they’d cut the connection. Then the temptation to proceed with her as he’d done the last time a woman’s smile made his heart stop would be gone.
“I’ll do that.” With a bow, Finch-Freeworth departed.
Sorcha appeared beside Duncan. “Who was that?”
“Her brither.”
“Hm. She’s resolved, then.”
“Aye.”
“No as resolved as I am to make something o’ that blast south burn.
Duncan, ye’ve got to allou me to draw funds from the bank to—”
How to Marry a Highlander (falcon club ) Page 4
