A Scandalous Bargain

by Burke, Darcy

  “I was replacing it,” she said through clenched teeth. She refocused on Tom. “Are they going to arrest you?”

  “It doesn’t look good. They found hemlock in my liquor cabinet.” His eye twitched.

  It was too much. Beatrix closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Opening her eyes, she looked at the constable with the black-and-gray hair. “You probably recognize me, so you should know that I’m a credible person. I saw what happened the night Lady Rockbourne fell.”

  “Beatrix.” Tom hissed as color leached from his face.

  She ignored him. “I was perched in a tree in Lord Rockbourne’s garden. I saw Lady Rockbourne come toward him with a knife. He avoided her, and she fell. It was horrible, but it wasn’t his fault.” Now she looked back at Tom. She smiled encouragingly before murmuring, “It’s going to be all right.”

  Another of the constables, a younger fellow with dark, wavy hair and blue eyes, came forward. “Are you Rockbourne’s mistress?”

  A gasp from somewhere to Beatrix’s right made her turn her head. Dread crept over her as she realized a crowd of people was gathered in the square, some in the street even, and were watching her and Tom as if they were performing a spectacle for their enjoyment. She began to shake.

  “No,” Tom snapped. “She is not my mistress.”

  Beatrix was grateful for at least that.

  “Why were you in his tree?” the older constable asked.

  “I was spying on the duke next door.” She inclined her head toward her father’s house, weighing whether she ought to reveal the truth. “Why does it matter? I was there, and Lord Rockbourne is innocent.”

  Tom stared at her, silent, his gaze unfathomable.

  “If you are his mistress, you could be lying to protect him,” the younger man said.

  Rounding on the constable, Tom curled his lip. “Say she’s my mistress again, and I’ll make you swallow your damn tongue.”

  Though the footman still held her arm, Beatrix reached out and just managed to touch Tom’s sleeve. “Don’t.” Threatening violence wouldn’t aid his cause.

  “What the devil is going on here?”

  Everyone’s head turned toward the Duke of Ramsgate, who walked up the pavement behind Tom and the constables. The latter of whom backed up as the duke approached. Tom, however, didn’t move.

  “We’ve caught a thief, Your Grace,” the odious butler said from beside Beatrix.

  “You’ve also obtained an audience.” The duke muttered something as he continued around Tom to stop in front of Beatrix. “Look at the trouble you’ve caused.”

  Beatrix refused to waver in front of him, in front of all these people. “I didn’t take anything,” she said quietly. “Well, I did, but I was returning it.”

  “The demi-parure,” he said with certainty.

  Her jaw dropped. “You knew?”

  “I checked it every night after your visit. Don’t forget that I know who you are. Who you’ve been.”

  “We can take her to Bow Street for prosecution, Your Grace,” the older constable offered.

  The duke turned toward him. “No, I won’t be prosecuting.”

  The footman instantly let go of Beatrix’s arm, and again she massaged her abused appendage. The butler squeaked.

  “Well?” The duke eyed the constables. “Go on your way.”

  “We weren’t here for her,” the younger man, whom Beatrix realized must be the Dearborn Harry had mentioned, explained. “We are investigating the death of Lady Rockbourne.”

  “But you’re finished,” Beatrix insisted. “Because I already told you what happened, what I saw.”

  “Can we bloody take this inside, out of view and hearing of the spectators?” the duke demanded.

  At that moment, a man rode up on horseback, causing several people to move back. He stopped in front of the houses and dismounted.

  “What’s going on here?” Harry asked, his gaze going from Beatrix to the constables to Tom and back to Beatrix.

  “It’s a terribly long story.” Beatrix suddenly had an urge to laugh.

  “Inside. Now.” The duke stalked toward his house. Apparently, they were all to follow him.

  And that was precisely what they did.

  They did not, however, return to the sword room. He led them up the stairs to the drawing room where Beatrix had met with him.

  Beatrix stood near Harry. The duke took a position near the hearth, while his butler and footman lingered just inside the doorway. Tom and the three constables moved to stand in front of the windows.

  The duke glowered at the constables. “I can’t begin to imagine why you’re investigating Rockbourne about the death of his wife. Didn’t she fall off the balcony?”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Dearborn answered, looking a bit pale. “However, evidence and information has come to light that require investigation.”

  Beatrix took a step forward. “Such as the fact that I saw the entire thing, and she fell. He didn’t push her!”

  Harry briefly put his hand on her arm. “Let me.” He addressed his colleagues. “I just came from Bow Street, where I went to speak with you, Dearborn. My sister-in-law did see what happened. She did not come forward sooner because she didn’t realize there was a need. And, as you can imagine, to do so would have jeopardized her reputation.”

  The duke made a noise in his throat. “Her reputation… How did you manage to see this, girl?”

  Just when Beatrix thought she’d controlled her shaking, she started to quiver once more. “I was in Lord Rockbourne’s tree. I, ah, I was watching you until I was distracted by Lady Rockbourne yelling.”

  The duke glanced toward Tom. “The viscountess could be a bloody banshee.” He cocked his head at Beatrix. “Why were you watching me? That’s very odd.”

  “Because I wanted to see you. I wanted to feel…close to you. It was odd. And foolish.” She almost said she regretted it, but she couldn’t, for that would mean she would never have met Tom. And that she would never regret.

  Shockingly, the duke’s features softened. But just for a moment. He hardened back up, like ice forming, before he spoke. “It was extremely foolish. You should have come to see me when you arrived in town. We could have come to an…arrangement.” He looked at the constables again, using the same haughty stare he’d used with Beatrix at their prior meeting.

  “Miss Whitford is my… Well, she’s a close friend’s daughter. She can be rather silly, as evidenced, but if she says she saw the viscountess fall, then the viscountess fell. I wouldn’t doubt it, in any case. Lady Rockbourne was so often intoxicated, I daresay it’s a wonder she didn’t fall from the balcony, or somewhere else, long before now.”

  Beatrix stared at him. He hadn’t admitted he was her father, but he’d provided a reason for them to be friendly at least. And he’d instructed the constables to believe her.

  Harry cleared his throat. “Since that’s two of us vouching for Miss Whitford, I think you must accept her testimony and conclude your investigation.” He looked toward the older constable. “Don’t you agree, Woodward?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  “Excellent. That should take care of things,” Harry said firmly.

  “No.”

  Every head in the room swung toward Tom.

  “No?” the duke asked, sounding irritated.

  “That does not take care of things. Beatrix—Miss Whitford—went to great lengths to protect me.” Moving to stand before her, Tom sank to one knee and took her hand. For the dozenth time that hour, Beatrix’s breath caught, but for a far better reason this time.

  He looked up at her, and her chest swelled with joy. “She is not my mistress, but I desperately hope she will be my wife.”

  “Absolutely not,” the duke thundered. He looked to the constables and pointed to the door. “Out.” Then he glared at Harry. “You too.”

  Harry didn’t leave Beatrix’s side. “Miss Whitford is my sister-in-law. I am not leaving.”

  Tom turned his
head toward the duke as the constables—as well as the footman and butler—filed out of the room. “You can’t mean for me to leave too.”

  “No. I mean for you to gain some sense.”

  Chapter 18

  Thomas rose and moved to stand on the other side of Beatrix. He took her hand, which felt cold even through the thin glove she wore. The urge to pull her into his arms and never let her go was nearly overwhelming. Instead, he would endure whatever nonsense her father wanted to spout.

  “I have sense enough to recognize this woman’s strength and loyalty,” Thomas said. “Pity you don’t have the same.”

  Ramsgate’s nostrils flared as he looked to Beatrix. “He knows?”

  She nodded. “As does Harry.” She inclined her head toward Sheffield. “They are the only ones, however.” Lifting a shoulder, she added. “As well as my sister and brother, of which you are already aware.”

  “They are not your sister and brother.”

  “Careful, Ramsgate,” Harry said in a low voice.

  Beatrix wished Selina was here to see how wonderful her husband was. But of course she already knew that.

  “Beatrix has done an excellent job keeping the reality of her parentage a secret,” Thomas said, squeezing her hand. “You should be grateful. You should also be regretful. What kind of father abandons his daughter after her mother dies?”

  “I didn’t abandon her,” the duke said defensively. “I sent her to school. I could have turned her out into the street.”

  “That school was awful,” Thomas continued, eager to slay the dragon who would hurt his beloved. “Did you ever once write to her? Visit?”

  Ramsgate waved his hand. “Bah. Fathers don’t do that.”

  “I would have.” No, Thomas would never have sent Regan in the first place.

  “She ran away before her education was finished. That was hardly my fault.”

  Thomas’s anger boiled. “She was miserable. The other girls knew she was unwanted and took every opportunity to remind her.”

  Ramsgate’s eyes narrowed. “She was also a thief.”

  “I couldn’t help it,” Beatrix snapped, drawing both Thomas and Harry to look at her. “I can’t always…control myself. I never stole anything until I went to that bloody school.”

  “Are you saying you couldn’t help stealing your mother’s demi-parure?” the duke asked snidely.

  “Oh no, that I took on purpose.” There was a pride in her voice that nearly made Thomas smile, but he thought better of it. “Those emeralds are mine. She said they would be. How did you know the ones I left were fake?”

  “The bracelet had a very small inscription—the date Lottie and I met.”

  Thomas felt a tremor pass through Beatrix and pulled her closer to him.

  “You left fake jewels in place of the real ones?” Harry looked at Beatrix with a mix of incredulity and admiration.

  “It seemed wise since I assumed he would know I stole them if they just went missing. He’d already accused me of being a thief.”

  “Very wise,” Thomas murmured, and this time, he did smile.

  Beatrix took a small step toward Ramsgate. “If you knew they were fake, why didn’t you report the theft?”

  The duke looked away and coughed. Clasping his hands behind his back, he returned his cool attention to Beatrix. “If you were going to go to that much trouble to have them, I decided you deserved them.”

  Her jaw dropped. Then she snapped it closed.

  “Very kind of you, Ramsgate,” Harry said. “What is unkind, however, is your interference in Beatrix’s life. If Rockbourne wishes to marry her, why would you try to stop it?”

  “He ought to know what he’s getting into—who she really is.”

  Thomas let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulders. He drew her tight against his side. “I know precisely who she is and what I’m getting into. And I go willingly, joyfully, my eyes—and my arms—wide open.” He glanced over at Beatrix and saw a tear sliding down her cheek as she looked up at him.

  He smiled at her and wiped the tear away. “Don’t cry, my love.”

  She smiled back, her face lighting with happiness.

  “Even knowing she is a thief and illegitimate, you don’t care?” Ramsgate looked utterly befuddled.

  “Not in the slightest. Actually, that’s not true. I care about every part of her. As should you.”

  Ramsgate sniffed.

  Beatrix took a deep breath. “I should tell you, Your Grace, that our secret may not remain secret much longer. One of the girls I attended school with recognized me earlier today. I acted as if I didn’t know her, but she knew a Beatrix Linley and that I was your daughter.”

  Ramsgate’s face flushed. “You told them?”

  She flinched against Thomas. “I didn’t have to. They all knew.”

  “Those idiots.” The duke sneered. “Only one of the teachers at that school could have told them. Unless you did.”

  “I would just as soon no one know the truth.” Beatrix looked her father in the eye. “I prefer to remain with my real family—Selina, Rafe, and now Harry and his family.”

  Thomas had never been prouder of anyone. He leaned down and said, “I’ve never loved you more than this moment.”

  Her eyes glowed as she looked up at him. “I love you too.” She turned her head back toward the duke. “So, if you wouldn’t mind, let’s just pretend what you said outside is the truth—I’m the daughter of an old friend. But it can’t be my mother since I share her with my siblings.”

  The duke frowned in distaste. “Rest assured, I will say as little as possible.”

  “I must confess, I’m rather confused by you, Ramsgate,” Harry said. “You were willing to let Beatrix keep her mother’s jewels, and yet you want nothing to do with her.”

  “Actually, it makes perfect sense,” Beatrix said. “It’s much easier for him to make a transaction. He gives me the jewels in exchange for my leaving him alone.”

  Harry gave his head a shake. “How…sad.”

  Beatrix straightened, and Thomas dropped his hand to her back. She pulled a fistful of emeralds out of her pocket and held them out in her palm. “If you’d like to fetch my mother’s jewels, I can give you these in exchange.”

  “Keep them.” He went to the door and called for his butler. They spoke quietly in the doorway for a moment.

  Ramsgate returned. “They’ll be down in a moment. I will hope our business is now concluded.”

  “Completely,” Beatrix said. “Thank you. Without you, I never would have met Tom.” She slid her arm around his waist.

  “And I never would have met Beatrix. Yes, thank you. From the bottom of my heart.” Thomas bowed.

  “To be clear, I do not want to attend your wedding.”

  “Nor will you be invited,” Thomas said with glee.

  Ramsgate took a long look at Beatrix, appraising her quite intently. “You do look like your mother. She’d be happy to know you are to be a viscountess.” He straightened, running his hand down his coat, over his paunch. “I wish you both well.”

  Then he left.

  A moment later, the butler entered. He handed Beatrix the purple velvet box. She clasped it reverently, her gaze soft as she regarded the treasure.

  “May I see you out?” the butler asked with more than a touch of hostility.

  Beatrix gave him a sickly sweet smile. “Please.”

  Thomas escorted her downstairs, and Harry followed. Outside, Thomas was glad to see the crowd had dissipated. A few people stood in the square watching. He quickly ushered Beatrix toward his house.

  “Ah, my horse,” Harry said, drawing Thomas to stop and turn. “I see one of your grooms has him.” He nodded toward where one of Thomas’s stable lads was tending him.

  “I should probably go,” Beatrix said, taking her arm from Thomas.

  Thomas didn’t want that, but for those still watching, they would see her going into his house unchaperoned. “I’ve never hated rules m
ore than right now.”

  She laughed. “Before I go, my answer is yes.”

  He hadn’t realized that she didn’t give him an answer. So much had happened in the last half hour. He was free. No, not free. He was tangled hopelessly and helplessly with this woman before him, and he didn’t want to be any other way.

  “I could kiss you.”

  “But you won’t because you’re far too proper.” She grinned. “Why don’t you come for dinner?”

  “Ah, Beatrix?” Harry interrupted. “It’s Thursday.”

  They typically had dinner at Aylesbury House with Harry’s family on Thursdays. She turned her head toward him. “Are we going tonight? I thought you were on a honeymoon.”

  Harry shrugged. “Selina and I decided this morning that we would go. She likes my family, what can I say?” He inclined his head toward Thomas. “Why don’t you come too? Since you’re going to be part of the family soon.”

  “Thank you, I will.”

  “See you later,” Beatrix started to go, but Thomas stopped her.

  He snagged her hand and brought it to his lips. “Regan will be delighted to know you will be her mother. She’s been asking when you will return.”

  “Oh, Tom.” Her eyes flashed first with apprehension, and then with hope. “Can I really be her mother?”

  “I have no doubt you will be wonderful.” Thomas knew in that moment that he’d made the right decision—the best decision of his life. “I meant what I said to the duke,” he said softly. “I know precisely who you are, and I want every part of you.”

  “Good, because you’re stuck with me.” She blew him a kiss and then joined Harry as he walked his horse toward Cavendish Square.

  Thomas watched them until they were gone from sight. Then he turned and strode inside, wondering how difficult it would be to obtain a special license.

  * * *

  Following dinner at Aylesbury house, the extended family gathered in the library. Everyone was present, including Rafe and Harry’s brother, the Viscount Northwood. But Beatrix scarcely noticed anyone but Tom. They’d been seated side by side at dinner, of course, and had spent the course of the meal furtively touching each other under the table.