“Dare I ask what better place?” he said more mildly.
She exhaled. “Do you know of Mr. Martin the MP? He’s trying to outlaw the mistreatment of animals.”
“Who?”
“Richard Martin. He’s offered Bibendum sanctuary on his estate. It’s a sprawling, remote place. Hundreds of thousands of acres with woods and meadows and salmon streams. Won’t Bibendum love that? He’ll retire to paradise.”
“You mean Hair-trigger Dick, the MP for Galway?”
“I believe the Prince Regent calls him Humanity Dick for his love of animals.”
“His estate is in Ireland, Jane.”
“Yes, in Connemara.”
“There is a sea between here and there,” he explained as if she were simpleminded. “Can your bear swim?”
“Naturally, but he won’t have to. I’ve hired a ship with Mr. Martin’s help,” she told him. “He allows one particular free trader to use the inlets on his coastline. Everything’s arranged but for the date of departure.”
“Won’t it be a lovely voyage,” Seelye mused in a bright sing-song. “Me and a smuggler on a rum-running sloop with a seasick bear. But first, I’ll have the pleasure of transporting this creature from London to some dodgy port of call for pirates.”
“Bristol,” she corrected repressively. “It’s going to be a jolly adventure.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it will be as frolicsome as the stations of the cross,” he replied. “When do I depart?”
Despite the quips and sarcasm, Jane knew her hero had returned from the war.
* * *
Seelye kept muttering under his breath and raking his hands through his hair until Jane rolled her eyes at him and he stopped ‘having at it.’
He couldn’t quite credit the substance of their conversation. The gist of which was that he’d agreed to haul a bear of unknown size and disposition across the fattest part of England to Bristol and thence to the wildest part of Ireland.
Not for the first time that evening, he addressed Him aloud, “Lord, save us from her good intentions. And if not both of us, then just me, for I never meant her to do any of this and am therefore innocent.”
“Lud, Seelye, so melodramatic! You missed your calling to the stage,” Jane said. “Would you like meet him tomorrow?”
“I’d be enchanted.” He bowed. “In the meantime, I’ll say goodnight and go somewhere I can tear my hair out properly.”
He took his leave of the hosts, his head in a fog. Back at his lodgings, he had no better luck clearing his mind.
Ladies did not think like men, this he knew, but no lady of his acquaintance thought like Lady Jane Babcock. He had no more hope of predicting her than the eruption of a volcano.
For men, rules governed everything from wagers to waging wars. There were things a gentleman must do and things he must not. For women in general, there were even more must’s and must not’s circumscribing their lives.
Not so Jane.
Only she would rescue a tamed bear and ask him to bring it to Bristol for export. It was ludicrous but, as he was learning, entirely in character.
Until recently, he’d mourned the loss of the fearless little hoyden he once found diverting. Turns out, she was alive and well—at least for the time being.
When Jane looked up at him the way she had years ago, hoping rather than pleading for help, he finally recognized her. (She always had too much dignity to beg, even as a child.) She waited for his answer, holding her breath without realizing it, just as she had when she turned to him long ago.
He should’ve refused. No favor owed could require a man to take leave of his senses or forfeit life or limb. But she never brought up the favor he owed her, which was good of her. No one likes to be strong-armed into doing what he knows he must.
He had to take responsibility for this fiasco and see it set right because he was to blame. If only he hadn’t mocked the meetings she attended as meaningless, ‘much said, nothing done’ affairs, she wouldn’t have done what she did.
But really, who could’ve predicted this outcome? Jane seemed impervious to all criticism. Who could’ve guessed that one offhand comment would affect her any more than all the rest she ignored? Even so, he had stirred her up and now, having sown the wind, he must reap the whirlwind.
Strangely enough, the prospect of a whirlwind was not altogether unwelcome. Yes, he might grouse about the sheer madness of her plan, but that was the charm of the challenge. Its audacity made his pulse quicken. It would be nothing short of extraordinary to carry off Jane’s ‘jolly adventure.’ The task called for ingenuity, nerve, and resourcefulness, all qualities he flattered himself to think he possessed. Any deficit of his, Percy would shore up, so long as he managed to recruit his friend to the cause.
Alone in his rooms, he felt the warrior within jolt awake from his doldrums.
To the phantom female much on his mind, Seelye said, “Though I may be mauled by your bear or keelhauled by pirates, you trust me to do it, Jane, and by God, I’ll get it done.”
Chapter 17
In which are made the customary introductions.
Seelye let himself in through the unlatched garden gate and crept forward.
“Jane, where are you?”
Tall, slope-shouldered box topiaries stood in a row like druids gathered to solemnize a daylight sacrifice. They blocked his view of the rest of the garden. A pebbled path offered a way forward, which he followed until he heard a cry that made his blood curdle.
“Bibendum, no!”
He launched himself through the ornamentals toward her voice and caught a glimpse of Jane’s pale gown.
A shaggy brown hulk menaced her, with great paws outstretched, mumbling as if deciding wing or thigh. He launched himself and bore her to the ground, blunting the impact of their tumble with his body.
“Be still! Play dead,” he hissed into her sweet-smelling hair. “If it attacks, I’ll take the brunt of it.”
“Seelye, no!” she cried in the same tone he’d heard before. Her sharp elbow jabbed him square in his sore ribs.
“Ow!”
“Let me go. He might think you’re hurting me.”
Along with her protests, the bear coughed, ‘Pogh! Pogh!’ before it began a throat-clearing ‘Rrrr.”
The sound rattled Seelye’s innards and raised hairs on the back of his neck and arms—arms, he noted nonsensically, that embraced Jane.
“Now you’ve done it.”
Was she scolding him or the bear?
He covered her more completely. One might as well enjoy one’s last moments on earth.
She squirmed to get away.
“Stop that, I’m trying to save you,” he said with more forcefulness than suited Bibendum.
“Gggrrrr.”
“Let me go. Now,” she said, surprisingly calm under the circumstances.
“GGRRrrrrrrrrrr.” the bear objected above them.
The rest of Seelye’s body hair stood on end. It was a terrifying sound, a sound his primitive ancestors must’ve feared above all things. He prepared for the mauling and hoped to acquit himself manfully.
“When it bites me, run for the potting shed,” Seelye told her. He imagined she’d weep over his dismembered body and name her firstborn after him to honor his sacrifice.
“He can’t, he’s muzzled, Seelye. Listen to me,” she said, interrupting his visions of heroism. “Are you listening?”
How could he listen over the bear’s deep, vibrating threat?
She gave his chest a sudden shove to roll him off her and sat up on the lawn.
“Seelye, bad boy!” she said firmly and delivered a resounding slap that snapped his head halfway around.
“Ow!” he grunted, shocked at her strength.
The growling overhead stopped abruptly.
“Why did you do that?” he demanded.
“That’s how I’m supposed tocorrect Bibendum. I thought if I scolded you the same way, he’d defer to me. And it worked.”
“More of a light cuff, like a mama bear, I was told. Odious Livens showed me how. First time I tried it, Bibendum sat right down. I hit you harder because you don’t listen.”
The creature towered over Seelye.
Jane cried, “Eh! Eh! Eh!” and got to her feet. “Down,” she said in a firm, low-pitched voice and swept her hand downward.
Bibendum hesitated before he dropped to all fours. Seelye saw the bear’s red leather muzzle and calmed a little.
“Sit,” she said, snapped her fingers and pointed to the ground.
The bear flopped onto its haunches but stared hard at Seelye.
“None of that.” Jane clapped her hands to reclaim his attention. The bear turned his head to focus on her.
“Good, Bibendum. Come,” she said in a bright, confident tone and patted her thigh.
The bear ambled past Seelye, who sprawled with cheek smarting, and went to Jane, who made him sit again.
“Go-oood bear! Good! You mustn’t mistake Lord Seelye’s intentions. He’s my friend, too,” she said and scratched the bear’s wedge-shaped head. To Seelye, she explained, “Like you, he wanted to protect me.”
Bibendum bumped Jane with his head and mumbled to her softly in Bear.
She gave a few more commands to which the bear responded as if nothing had happened.
Meanwhile, Seelye stood up slowly. At her urging, he sidled away from her.
“Now, you try,” she told him.
“Dare I trust you?” he asked the bear and patted his thigh. “Come.”
His heart pounded as the creature padded close.
“Sit.” He snapped his fingers and pointed down as Jane had.
The bear sat before Seelye, blinking up at him.
“Good bear,” Seelye said imitating Jane’s confidence.
“You see? It was a misunderstanding but it has passed.”
“Something’s passed certainly.” Seelye wrinkled his nose at the bear’s odor. “The good news is Myrick would have to be anosmic not to sense this much gaminess coming from the potting shed.”
“That may be, but as you suggested, I did mention that he mustn’t start seedlings for the time being.”
“You’ve taken my advice?” he said. “Astonishing.”
“Isn’t Bibendum well behaved?” she asked, ignoring his comment. “I’ve worked with more difficult strays. Fearful dogs are liable to bite, but he has excellent manners and more confidence.”
She smoothed her rumpled gown and flicked away debris before calling Bibendum back to her for a treat.
“Now, where was I? Ah, yes, introductions.”
She assumed a demure pose with eyes twinkling and grass-stained gloves clasped before her.
“Lord Seelye, may I introduce Bibendum, Bear of Bankside?” She spoke the bear’s title with whimsical formality that he found delightful.
“How do you do, your bearship?” Seelye responded with a proper bow. “Funning aside, Jane, you’ll forgive me if I am unconvinced of its civility. Weren’t you terrified just now?”
“A little alarmed, yes, though he was annoyed with you. He hasn’t growled at me once and I’ve been working with him for almost two weeks. Like me, Bibendum is quite amenable when you’re not around.”
As if to prove her point, the bear now sat with little ears perked, a pattern card of ursine good behavior, if such an illustration existed.
“Shall we practice some more?”
“Where’s George?” Seelye asked.
“Parliament.”
“Gert? Little Caro?”
“Morning calls and the nursery,” she answered crisply.
“Seems you’ve thought of everything,” he said with a sinking feeling.
“I’ve made certain we’d have at least two hours of privacy.” Having delivered her clincher, Jane finished the introductions, “Bibendum, I would like to present you to Lord Seelye Burton. You mustn’t take exception to his tone. He frequently grumbles and growls but he means no harm.”
To the surprise of both bipeds, the bear rose to his paws and ambled over to greet Seelye with mumbles and a thorough snuffle at his falls.
* * *
Jane watched Seelye wipe bear spit from his pantaloons with a handkerchief.
“You should be flattered,” she choked. “He’s greeting you in the way of bears.”
From his lordship’s grimace, her chortles only compounded the bear’s offense.
“I’d prefer he didn’t. In any way, Jane.”
“But isn’t it sweet how quickly he’s forgiven you?”
“Off with you,” Seelye tried to shoo the bear away. “Nothing will induce me to ask my landlady to launder these,” he told her. “And if they don’t come clean with soap and water, how can I hope to impress some chit enough to marry her?”
“Have you anyone in mind?” she asked and instantly regretted it. He might chastise her for impertinence or answer without hesitation. Either way, she was bound to be sorry.
“I can’t put it off much longer.” He scrubbed at the mess. “My clothing won’t last the Season thanks to the depredations of Mrs. Carmody and your new houseguest. More annoying, I have paid for these, so your bear injures me, not Stultz.”
“You’ve settled your tailor’s account?” she asked, “but why?”
He shrugged.
It had to be true.
“Heavens, Seelye, that makes you a dreadful example to all the other wastrel lordlings.”
“S’pose it does,” he agreed with a quirk of his lips. “But I’ll regret it when everything I own is tatty, toasted, or bear-stained. Even the spottiest females will turn up their noses and I’ll be off to Calais anyway.”
“I could introduce you to ladies who won’t turn up their noses.” It was a half-hearted offer she hoped he’d dismiss.
“How could you spare the time? It’ll be all you can do to redeem yourself this Season, Jane. Focus your energies on that, if you please.”
“I am in no hurry, Lord Seelye.”
“Oh no? What are you waiting for, the return of King Arthur?”
She nearly told him who she had waited for but stopped herself. “I wait for no one.”
“And you’ll have no one unless you stop this nonsense. I won’t let the bear distract you from what matters. I’ll deal with Bibendum. You gentle your ways and find someone you can tolerate.”
“I am not distracted. In fact, I am starting to understand what matters to me. Being gentle does not. Recall, I am not as desperate as you to marry,” she said. “As for your advice, I’ll do without it.”
“Until you’re married, you’ll have it, like it or not.”
“In which case, there is an argument for a marriage of convenience,” she muttered. “But I fear we’ve lost sight of our true purpose, which is to save my bear.”
Bibendum watched the two argue back and forth. When their speech became more emphatic, he ambled over to Seelye to make peace in the way of bears.
* * *
Seelye ignored Jane’s snorts of amusement and said, “May I suggest you slap your bear for this?”
With saintly forbearance, he stood with feet braced to withstand Bibendum’s nasal assault. He’d meant to stay angry but Jane’s gulps and sputters disarmed him. The lady was adorable when trying not to laugh at her bear’s transgressions. He was about to say as much when he felt something warm sluice down a top boot.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“Devil take it!” he exclaimed and flicked his wet boot in disgust.
Bibendum moved off to sniff at the green shoots in the tulip bed.
“I believe he’s marked you as a chum of his,” Jane said unevenly.
“If it happens again, I’ll make a rug of my new chum.”
His vehemence startled the bear. Bibendum stilled, small eyes fixed on him.
“Don’t take that tone,” Jane said, “or you’ll make him cross again.”
“Make him cross?” Seelye shot back. “He dares relieve himself on my boot and take exception to me?”
Bibendum padded closer to Jane and began to disapprove with a faint “pogh, pogh.”
Seelye and Jane both pointed at the ground and barked, “Sit.”
The bear plopped down on his haunches without another sound.
“Perhaps we ought to postpone the walk tonight.”
Just as Seelye said this, he felt a cool, wet something touch his hand.
Bibendum had leaned as far as he could from where he sat and stretched his neck to touch Seelye’s hand with the tip of his nose. There was no denying the conciliatory gesture.
“One does not douse a friend’s footwear,” he informed the bear. “It’s very bad ton. Surely, Jane has taught you that.”
“I’m afraid I’ve neglected that aspect of his education,” she admitted and clipped the leash to the bear’s collar. “Blame me, not Bibendum. The poor thing needs a good leg stretch. In the wee hours, the park’s bridle paths will be empty. You’ll take horehound drops to reward him. He loves those.”
“Will you walk nicely, you wretch?” he addressed the bear.
Hearing the word ‘walk,’ Bibendum’s rose to four paws and gave himself an eager little shake.
“No, not yet, bear. Before I walk you out there, I best walk you in here to get the knack of it with Mama Bear watching.”
Jane handed him the loop-end of the leash. The bear ambled to his side with a slight tug of the lead.
Seelye walked the bear around the perimeter of the garden, turning this way and that, crushing some early bulbs underfoot. Bibendum picked his way more delicately, sniffing here and there, like a floral connoisseur.
Chapter 18
In which part of our hero’s penance is a walk in the park.
Despite their somewhat rocky introduction, Seelye found Jane’s bear obedient, so long as he kept a cool head and calm tone of voice. He paid close attention to her instructions and practiced handling her charge as Jane directed.
Seelye repeated the commands and gestures with success and had the animal seated in the potting shed at the end of the exercise. She removed the bear’s muzzle and snatched up a cloth bag from the grass. She held it open and Seelye took a fish between thumb and forefinger and tossed it to Bibendum. Then he noticed his smirched glove and scowled at her.
His Lordship's Last Wager Page 14
