She looked away quickly, but not before he saw her cheeks infuse with riotous color. "I-I was rather hoping that you might bring it around yourself," she murmured, her gaze firmly glued to Kesin as she resumed petting him.
Gideon narrowed his eyes, his suspicions aroused by her unexpected invitation. Wondering at her new game, he replied, "I cannot help saying that I am surprised that you would harbor such a hope. I daresay that I need not explain why."
She stroked the animal several more times, then sighed and dropped her hand to her side. "Mr. Harwood, has it not occurred to you to wonder what I am doing here at this hour of the day, unattended?"
"The thought has crossed my mind, yes," he said, though in truth he had not noticed that she was alone. Then again, he was hardly accustomed to dealing with aristocratic chits who were not allowed to set so much as a toe outside their front door without an escort, so it was hardly something he would think to note.
She nodded. "Perhaps you would allow me to explain? Once I have done so, you will no doubt better understand why I harbor the hope I do."
He nodded back, brusquely. "I am listening."
"In private, please."
The fact that she sought privacy further hoisted the already raised red flag in Gideon's mind. As he had learned from past experience, a request for privacy from a member of the Barham family generally signaled the introduction of a proposal, one usually based on lies and deception. Intrigued, in spite of his determination not to be, Gideon glanced at the Sikh and said, "You may return to the house now, Jagtar. Please have my gig harnessed and brought around front in a quarter of an hour so that I can escort her ladyship home."
Jagtar brought his palms together beneath his chin and inclined his head. "Bahut acha, Sahib" -very good. He repeated the action to her ladyship. "My lady." That formality complete, he did as directed.
"Well," Gideon prompted when the servant was out of sight.
She gestured to the bench she had used as a shield. "Shall we sit, Mr. Harwood?" Her voice had resumed its former brittleness.
He cringed at the sound of it, instantly regretting granting her request. Nonetheless, he nodded. "As you wish, my lady."
When they were seated side by side, he again prodded, "Well?"
She refrained from responding for several moments, her hands nervously twisting the ribbon drawstrings of her reticule. Then she sighed and said, "I suppose that I should simply blurt out what I wish to say and be done with it." The brittleness had vanished, replaced by very real-sounding anxiety.
"That would be preferable, yes," he concurred, not about to be disarmed by her maidenly show of nerves.
She nodded and dropped her gaze to her hands, which continued to fret her purse strings. Taking a deep breath, as if to brace herself, she began in a frayed voice, "All right, then. The truth of the matter is that I visited your town house earlier this morning with the express purpose of begging you to reconsider our bargain. When you were not at home, I retreated here to nurse my disappointment. I need not tell you why I could not bring my maid."
Of all the things he had expected to hear, a confession to a desire to honor her end of the bargain was the last on the list. Hell, it was not even on the list, so unforeseen was it. Beyond astonished and now somewhere in the realm of flabbergasted, but not about to show it, Gideon coolly retorted, "No, you do not, though I would be interested to hear why you wish to reinstate our bargain. By your own acknowledgment, you are no more eager to marry me than I am you."
She made a helpless little hand gesture. "For the sake of my siblings, of course. As I said, there is nothing that I would not do or sacrifice for them. And if the price of saving them from being thrown into the streets to live as beggars is a loveless marriage, then so be it."
Again, Gideon was taken aback, though this time he did not bother to disguise the fact. "I cannot even begin to imagine what you are going on about," he said, frowning his consternation. "What does our bargain have to do with your siblings being thrown into the streets?"
"If you call in my mother's debt, we will be ruined, and my siblings and I will lose everything, including our home." She shook her head over and over again, clutching at her reticule in a manner that betrayed the terrible depth of her despair. "The very thought of my siblings starving in the streets-I-I-" Her fragile voice broke then, her tear-glazed eyes haunted with fear and begging for mercy as she met his gaze in a mute plea.
"Debt?" he echoed, his frown deepening as he tried to make sense of her words. "I do not-"
"Oh, Mr. Harwood, please!" she sobbed, the tears that welled in her eyes now brimming over to spill down her cheeks. "I am begging you, please-please!-do not ruin us! I will do anything, be anything you wish, whatever it takes to please you." She had released her reticule and now clutched at his arm. "All you have to do is tell me the sort of woman you desire and I shall be her. I promise. Please! Just give me the chance." Her breath was being ripped from her chest in rough, ragged sobs, and she could not have looked more sincere or desperate as she stared up at him, awaiting his answer.
Gideon returned her gaze, too stunned by her impassioned outburst to speak. When his wits finally returned, he narrowed his eyes and inquired, "Who told you that I was threatening your family with ruin?" Not that he really needed to ask. There was only one person who could be responsible for concocting such a heinous lie.
Her sniffles had returned along with her tears. "My father, of course." Sniffle!
"Of course," Gideon echoed in a grim voice.
"He said that if I do not wed you, our family will always"- sniffle! sniffle!-"be in danger of you calling in my mother's gambling debt. And since it is so very large-" She sniffled twice more and shook her head. "Well, I need not tell you the power that such an obligation gives you over us."
Gideon's eyes narrowed further as understanding began to dawn. It appeared that Lord Stanwell was up to his vile, cowardly tricks again, and again at the expense of his poor daughter. His already fathomless loathing for the detestable man deepening, he said, "Perhaps if you tell me what your father said in regard to the affair, I shall be better able to address your fears."
She sniffled several times in quick succession. "Since we both know the circumstances of the debt, I see no need to explain."
"Nonetheless, I very much wish to hear your father's side of the tale," he interjected, though he knew that he was not going to like what he heard. When she looked about to protest, he reminded her, "You promised to do anything I wish in order to persuade me to reconsider our bargain, correct?"
"Yes." Her voice was hoarse, almost a rasp.
"Then prove it."
She sighed and averted her face, closing her eyes, as if in doing so she could somehow shut out the ugliness of what she was about to report. "He said that you lured my mother into gaming with you the night we met at Vauxhall Gardens, and that you deliberately drove her into debt, probably through cheating, in order to blackmail your way into the ton. He said"- sniffle!-"that you then threatened to ruin our family by calling in the debt, unless he agreed to sponsor you in society and I promised to marry you. He told me that if I did not wed you, you would have he and my mother thrown into debtors' prison, and my siblings and me turned out into the streets to starve. So"- sniffle! sniffle!-"of course I bowed to your
wishes. How could I not?"
How indeed? Gideon thought darkly, wishing that the villain were there so he could thrash him within an inch of his life. That his lordship would use his daughter's love for her siblings to manipulate her in such a manner was evil beyond his comprehension.
"I truly did try to do as you asked and be the sort of woman I"- sniffle!-"thought you wished for a wife. I did!" Those last words were rent by a heartbroken sob. "But I failed." Another wrenching sob. "Oh! I have made such a stew of things! Since you have decided that you do not"- sniffle!-"like me and no longer wish to be a part of the ton, my father says that you will most certainly call in the debt." Now grasping his arm with a stren
gth that was almost bruising in her desperation, she sniffled twice and pleaded, "Oh, Mr. Harwood! I would rather die than see my poor siblings suffer so. They do not deserve such misery. If you will but give me a chance, I promise to make matters right."
Damn Lord Stanwell. Damn him to hell! Gideon's hands clenched into fists in his fury. Not only had the bastard besmirched his character with his lies, he had utterly crushed his daughter by using him as a threat against the siblings she adored. No wonder she hated him so. Now armed with a new understanding of the predicament in which he found himself inextricably tangled, he pondered his next move.
He could, of course, repudiate her father's lies and tell her the truth. Yet doing so would be cruel, even devastating in that it would mark her mother a whore, and she and her siblings as bastards. And she deserved better than that. Besides, what good would it serve in the end? Delivering such a blow most certainly would not improve her ladyship's opinion of him. That is, if she believed him at all. And why should she? Why would she believe a virtual stranger over her own father?
"Please, Mr. Harwood. Say that you will reconsider the bargain." Her face was again blotchy and her eyes red as she gazed up at him in tearful appeal. "You shall not regret doing so, I promise."
Though Gideon frankly doubted that last, sympathy for her plight made him weigh the former. Hmmm. Maybe he should reconsider the bargain. After all, the real Lady Julia was not so very bad. In fact, Bliss could do worse than to emulate the charm she had displayed earlier that morning. And while he was on the subject of siblings, surely her love for her own siblings boded well for a harmonious relationship between her and his sisters? Deciding that it indeed did, he glanced down at her, debating what to do.
She promptly smiled through her tears, clearly trying to appear as agreeable as possible. That she should be so eager to please, so desperate to barter herself for the sake of her siblings wrenched his heart.
Hmmm. Rather than wondering what she could do for him, perhaps he should consider the good he might do her in restoring their bargain. And now that he knew the extent to which her father was willing to go to achieve his despicable means, he saw that it was indeed in her best interest to reinstate it, that marrying her would be akin to a rescue. To be sure, if he did not wed her, her father would most likely sell her to another man, one who might use her cruelly and make her life more miserable than it obviously already was. At least with him, she would be assured of safety and kindness.
Now cast in the role of reluctant hero, Gideon met her damp-eyed gaze and quizzed, "Is that truly what you wish, my lady? To wed me?"
She graced him with another of her smiles, this one less forced for her expression of forlorn hope. "More that anything in the world." Sniffle!
That she should desire above all else to wed a man she did not even like spoke volumes about the depth of her desperation, as well as the pathetic state of her life. It also made up his mind. Nodding, he said, "Then you may consider your wish granted." She opened her mouth, no doubt to thank him, but he halted her speech with a curt hand motion. "I do, however, place three conditions on doing so."
"Anything," she exclaimed, her splotchy face transforming into a study of joyous relief. "I do not care what the conditions entail. I agree to them, and gladly. I-"
Again he halted her. "Please. Indulge me by hearing me out."
If a person could actually beam, Lady Julia Barham did so as she gazed up at him. "But of course. As I promised, I shall do and be"- sniffle! sniffle!-"anything you wish."
"What I wish is for you to be yourself. That is my first condition. I have glimpsed the real Lady Julia this morning and have decided that I like her very much. Therefore, you must promise that instead of wearing a polite mask and pretending that all is well when it is not, you will instead express your feelings and allow yourself to behave in a natural manner."
There was no doubt whatsoever that the smile she gave him in response complied with that first condition. "I must confess that it will be a relief"- sniffle!-"not to have to hide my feelings from you. However, I feel it only fair to warn you that I am cursed with a rather"- sniffle! sniffle! sniffle!-"quick temper."
He waved aside her confession. "Yes? Well, and I am told that I sometimes snore, loudly. The point is we all have our flaws, and as a married couple we should not feel burdened with the obligation to hide them."
"Agreed." Sniffle! "And your second condition?"
"That you blow your nose. This instant. Your sniffling is driving me mad."
She smiled at his request and retrieved her own handkerchief, a dainty, lace-trimmed affair, from her reticule. Modestly turning away, she complied. That bit of business thus completed, she turned back to him, saying, "Done, sir. What is your third condition?"
"I want you to promise to be a companion to my sister Bethany, with whom you are of an age, and to make an attempt to tame my youngest sister, Bliss. While the former task should prove easy enough, pleasurable even, given Bethany's sweet nature, the latter will no doubt be a trial. Bliss is, er, a bit difficult." Difficult, unfortunately, was a vast understatement for the brat's wild behavior. Then again, what could one expect from a child who had survived life in Westminster's meanest rookery?
"Difficult or no, they shall be my sisters, so I will naturally love them and give them every consideration I would grant my own sisters," she declared, and there was no doubt whatsoever as to the sincerity of her pronouncement for the stoutness with which it was uttered.
"I take it that you agree to my terms, then?"
"To all three, yes."
"In that instance, I shall inform your father of my decision to resume our bargain, and direct him to announce our engagement as planned," he replied, fully intending to appraise Lord Stanwell of a hell of a lot more than that. Indeed, by the time he finished, the bastard would not dare to utter anything but the most innocuous pleasantries to any of his daughters.
"How can I ever thank you, Mr. Harwood?" She now looked at him much as the princess gazed at St. George upon slaying the dragon in a Christmas pageant of St. George and the Dragon.
"You may start by calling me Gideon. If we are to announce our engagement next week, an easing of the formality between us seems in order," he replied, rather enjoying being her hero, though, of course, he was nothing of the sort. A true champion would have found a way to right matters in a fashion that would not require her to sell herself into marriage.
"Gideon." She smiled and inclined her head in agreement. "And you must call me Julia."
He nodded back. "Very well. Julia it is. Now Julia, since we are to be wed, what do you say to a friendship? I daresay that being friends will make our marriage a great deal more comfortable for the both of us."
"I would like that very much, Gideon."
"Friends, then?" He offered her his hand.
She took it, her palm molding to his as their fingers entwined. "Friends."
Chapter 12
"You will look like a queen, Julia," Mina declared, reverently touching the overskirt on Julia's wedding gown.
"A vision of elegance," added Amy, laying the Brussels lace bridal veil over her hand to test its transparency.
Caroline, who fingered the swan's-down trim on the stylish white satin pelisse Julia would wear over her bridal gown on the drive to and from the church, nodded in agreement. "I do believe that you shall be the most beautiful bride of the Season. Your gown . . ." She shook her head, as if she still could not quite believe her eyes. "I have never seen anything so magnificent."
The gown in question was presently displayed on a wicker dressmaker's form that stood before the gilt-framed Cheval mirror in Julia's spacious green, gold, and coral bedchamber, thus exhibiting it from all angles. And as Caroline had pointed out, it truly was magnificent. Indeed, it was everything that Julia had ever dreamed of in a wedding gown.
Designed in the current fashion with a high waist and classical silhouette, the gown itself was a rather plain white satin affair, trimmed at i
ts long, straight sleeves, flaring hem, and low V-neckline with bands of simple gold lace. What made it so very spectacular was the over gown.
Though most aristocratic brides chose the traditional bridal colors of silver and white, silver, unfortunately, did the most dreadful things to Julia's complexion. Thus the over gown, with its elbow length, triple puffed sleeves and high standing collar, had been made of intricately embroidered gold and white lace. As the dressmaker had so astutely and rhapsodically pointed out, gold not only warmed and flattered Julia's delicate coloring to perfection, it reflected the light with every movement, glistening like a cascade of sunlight that would follow her down the aisle in a shimmering six-foot train. Adding to the glittering splendor of the exquisite creation was an edging of gold point-lace flowers, which also lined the face-framing inner brim of the bridal bonnet she would wear on the ride to the church in the morning. Once at the church she would don a crown like diamond and gold aigrette, over which she would drape the whisper-thin Brussels lace veil.
Famous Helene, who had been uncharacteristically agreeable ever since Julia had invited her to be one of her six bridesmaids, smiled with a sweetness that would have prompted a dozen sonnets, had there been a dozen iambically inclined bachelors present to witness it. "It truly is a lovely gown, Julia. I daresay that it shall even outshine the one your mother wore at her wedding last week, and at the time I thought that nothing could be grander."
"Or more romantic," interjected Mina on an enraptured sigh, now lifting the bonnet to examine the silk flowers wreathing the crown. "I do believe that your mother is the most fortunate woman in the world, Julia, to have a husband who insisted on wedding her all over again, after more than two decades of marriage, simply to show the ton how much he still loves her."
"Considering the success of the affair, I shan't be a whit surprised if such weddings become all the rage. Indeed, I venture to guess that there is not a married woman in the ton who has not flung Lord Stanwell's romantic gesture at her own husband and demanded that he follow suit." This was from Caroline, who had moved from the gown to examine the aigrette and its matching necklace and earrings, which lay on a velvet cushion atop a small table that had been placed by the gown for the express purpose of displaying Julia's bridal accessories.
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