‘Worried about themselves is more likely,’ Paine drawled with cynicism. ‘Don’t delude yourself. You cannot simply waltz back home and put paid to the contract.’
His scepticism fired her temper. She didn’t like to be laughed at. ‘How dare you speak of them like that! You don’t know them at all. You’ve never even met them.’ To her embarrassment, her lip quivered and she fought back the urge to cry in her despair.
Her aunt and uncle weren’t cruel, only desperate, and, in their desperation, they’d made some poor choices. But surely they would forgive her and see reason. When Gray’s ship docked, everything would be put to rights without Oswalt’s money.
The thought encouraged her. She shook her head and straightened her shoulders resolutely. ‘My aunt and uncle aren’t ogres, Paine. They’re merely misguided. Whatever they do to me, it’ll be better than marriage to Oswalt. I made my choices and I’ll abide by them.’
‘And the choices you made for them with your actions? Will they forgive you for driving them to the poor house?’ Paine queried.
‘What do you mean?’ She looked baffled.
‘I mean, will they get by without whatever Oswalt has promised them in exchange for you?’
‘How did you know about that? I didn’t tell you.’
Paine shrugged. ‘If Oswalt is involved, money is involved.’
Julia looked guilty. ‘Money is at the root of the contract. He’s promised fifteen thousand pounds to my uncle. But my cousin Gray has a ship he’s invested in. The cargo will cover our debts when it arrives and my uncle won’t need Oswalt’s money any more.’
‘Wait, Julia,’ Paine spoke slowly, putting his thoughts together as he talked. ‘Has Oswalt given your uncle any money yet? An advance, perhaps?’
Her answer was just as slow. ‘I don’t know.’ But then, there was so much she hadn’t known just twenty-four hours ago. ‘I suppose it could be possible.’ The implications hit her full force. She twisted in Paine’s arms to face him, hands clutching at his shoulders. ‘Oh, no, if he has there’s no way my uncle could pay him back. Any funds would already have been spent.’ She thought with alarm of the wardrobe for her Season, that no expense had been spared for her gowns.
How had she ever thought her uncle and aunt could have suddenly afforded such expenditures when they’d sent her begging to the butcher to delay the meat bill back home on the estate? ‘Now that I think about it, I am sure funds must have been given in advance.’
Paine nodded. ‘Oswalt is known for his shrewd business dealings. If he’s given someone money, there’s bound to be a contract behind it, something legal done in writing to secure his investment.’
‘There is a betrothal contract.’ Julia looked frantically into Paine’s face. What he said made sense, horrible sense. She couldn’t decide which was worse: the cold reality that her actions would create a potential financial crisis for her family or that she had been bought and sold long before yesterday morning. What she’d thought was a prelude to her demise was in reality the finale. She swayed, relying on Paine’s arms to keep her upright. ‘Then this was all for nothing. My virginity was not a deal-breaker. He meant to have me regardless, just at a better bargain.’
‘It is most likely the truth. Your uncle didn’t think you’d run. Mortimer Oswalt doesn’t care if you run—perhaps he even counted on the fact that you would.’
‘Except he’s lost his money. Granted, he’s not out the whole sum but he’s out a few thousand pounds,’ Julia said, feeling a bit more herself now that the initial shock had passed.
Paine shook his head. Julia felt his grip about her waist tighten. ‘Oswalt isn’t a man who loses money with grace. He loses face with even less grace. He won’t care if you run, Julia, because he’ll find you. He’ll count on your inexperience and lack of connections in the city, then will hunt you down and drag you back home in disgrace.’
Julia shook free of Paine’s embrace and sank on to the bed. ‘I have to go back and bargain with Oswalt. I have to fix this. I can’t let my family suffer because of me.’ She saw that Paine would protest that ‘nice’ people didn’t sell their nieces.
‘Really, they are good people. They’ve raised me since I was a little girl and I have repaid them with financial ruin.’ She’d had her night of passion and got much more than she’d bargained for, a reward of sorts to act as a bulwark against the years to come. Perhaps for her family’s sake she could stand it. In the morning light, it seemed to be the only solution in the wake of her transgressions the night before.
Her bravado received no support from Paine. Paine’s eyes narrowed. ‘I will not hear of it. Your solution is no solution at all. Oswalt is a lecher, but a keen student of human nature. He probably knew you’d run just as assuredly as your dolt of an uncle didn’t think you would. This is just another perverse game he’s invented for the entertainment of his sick mind. There’s no disgrace in eluding him. Oswalt has probably engineered all this like a puppet show, knowing that eventually your sense of honour will bring you back, begging on your knees, and in the meanwhile, he can financially blackmail your uncle.’
Despair rocketed through her. There had never been a chance for her to win. She was playing a game that was far deeper than her abilities, a game that had been well under way, if Paine was to be believed, long before she’d joined it. She prided herself on her sharp mind, but she could not divine the layers laid out by Oswalt. She had no experience when it came to understanding the thought processes of the depraved.
What would she do now? She took quick stock of the inventory at her disposal. She still had a small opportunity and her earbobs. By now, Oswalt and her uncle knew she was gone, but they didn’t know where. It was unlikely even Oswalt would deduce she’d gone out seeking someone to ruin her. They would think she’d act like a girl fresh from the country—perhaps seek a way back home or take refuge with girlfriends. They would check the houses of her acquaintances and the posting inns. That would keep them busy. But for how long? Long enough to catch a ship? They would check the docks next when the posting inns turned up empty, but maybe she could beat them.
Julia raised her head and drew a deep breath. She could not save her uncle; perhaps she never could have, even with her marriage. But she could save herself and pray that Gray’s ship returned safely for the family’s sake.
Her decision made, she could not impose on Paine Ramsden any longer. That was a shame. He seemed to know quite a bit about her betrothed and he made her feel unaccountably safe. ‘If I could ask for one last favour, I would ask that you take me to the docks so that I may find passage on a ship. I have some money and I have my earbobs. I am certain it would be enough to get me a berth of some sort.’
God, the girl had courage. The news he’d imparted to her was dire, but here she was, already rebounding from it and planning her escape. The chivalrous fires she’d stoked in him last night roared to life at her suggestion. There was no way he would deliver her to the docks and leave her to set sail alone. There was no telling what kind of harm could befall a girl of such beauty, travelling without a chaperone on the high seas. No crew he’d ever sailed with would have let her go untouched. It was no credit to the scurrilous company he’d kept over the years, but the truth all the same.
Paine shook his head. ‘Where would you go?’
‘Anywhere. Whatever ship leaves first is the one I want. I haven’t much time. They’ll check the houses of my friends and the posting inns first. But they’ll check the docks next.’ Paine heard the frantic undertones in her voice. Courageous, but still frightened, then.
She took his reticence for refusal. ‘I will go on my own if you will not assist me. It is not your responsibility anyway. You’ve done what I asked of you and that is the end of our association.’ Julia rose from the bed, head held high and stuck out her hand. ‘I thank you.’
Paine fairly exploded. Courageous, frightened and stubborn. The list of adjectives that described Julia Prentiss was growing rapidly. ‘That’s
ridiculous, Julia. Sit down, you’re going nowhere. When you do, it will be with me. You cannot face Mortimer Oswalt alone and you can’t go wandering around out there on your own, resourceful as you are.’
He began pacing away his agitation, gratified to see that Julia obeyed. He’d fully expected she wouldn’t. It was good to know she could do as she was told. She would need that skill in the days to come if they were to effectively deal with Mortimer Oswalt.
‘They.’ ‘We.’ His conscience warned him he was running headlong into all kinds of foolishness on behalf of Julia Prentiss, whom he had known less than a day; the foolishness of entangling with Oswalt again, and another kind of foolishness he couldn’t name yet, but had everything to do with why the ancient Chinese warned against a man surrendering his yin.
Julia was peering at him through her thoughtful jade eyes; a cool calculation crept into them, assessing him. ‘Why?’ she said.
‘Why what?’ Paine stopped his pacing.
‘It has suddenly occurred to me that I know very little about you. Why should I trust you? Who’s to say that you aren’t just as sly or as debauched as he is?’
‘You trusted me enough last night,’ Paine shot back, angry that she had the gall to categorise him with the likes of Oswalt, although he knew she didn’t know better—couldn’t know better.
Julia skewered with him a stare, refusing to back down from her inquiry. ‘Last night was about a temporary arrangement. It seems the stakes have changed a bit since then. Last night I didn’t need to know. Today I do.’
Good lord, the woman was exasperating. Now was the time for plans, not for some parlour game of twenty questions. Paine sighed. Conceding this small victory seemed the quickest way to overcome the obstacle of her obstinacy and move forwards. ‘All right, what do you want to know?’
‘Only two things. Really, you’d think I was the Spanish Inquisition.’ Julia gave a sigh of her own. ‘First, let me ask my question again. Why should I trust you? Second, how is it that you know so much about my betrothed when you’ve only been back in England for less than a year?’
The questions brought Paine’s hand to a halt, frozen in his hair where he’d been riffling through it. How had a simple bedding turned into something so complicated? He gave her the only answer he was prepared to give. ‘You have two questions and I’ll give you one answer that suffices for them both. Mortimer Oswalt is the reason for my exile.’
Julia looked ready to ask a thousand questions. He shot her a sharp glance that suggested she reconsider that angle of conversation. The answer he had given her was by no means a complete one, but it was the truth and it was all he was going to say on the matter.
He watched Julia draw a deep breath, her eyes never leaving his as her mind sifted through his latest revelation, weighing the facts he’d presented like a judge hearing a trial. And he did feel quite like a defendant, waiting to hear the sentence.
He tried to tell himself the verdict didn’t matter to him. If she chose to leave, he’d be better off, able to return to his daily routine. If she stayed, upheaval was guaranteed. There would be a past to revisit and old wounds to reopen. Still, he could hear his own breath exhale with relief when Julia said in her firm, resolute tone, ‘All right, all things considered, it seems best that I stay for now. But let’s get one thing clear, Paine Ramsden, I will not be the subordinate in this. It’s my fate and I will have a say in it.’
‘Absolutely.’ Paine knew that was a promise he couldn’t keep the moment the words were out of his mouth, but he would have agreed to anything just to keep her safe. One woman had already fallen to Oswalt’s evil wiles because of his failure. He’d make damn sure another one didn’t suffer the same consequences.
Late that afternoon, Paine concluded Fate couldn’t have sent a more obvious sign than Julia Prentiss than if that wily muse had sent him a letter. It was time to take back his life. The moment he’d decided to return to England, he’d known the day would come. Now it was here. It was time to finish his business with Oswalt and reclaim his place in society.
Not far from where he sat behind the wide, scarred cherrywood desk in the room he’d appointed as his makeshift office, Julia dozed on a clean but old sofa, a book haphazardly in her lap, still open to the page she’d been reading before nodding off. No doubt the activities of the last twenty-four hours were catching up with her. She slept like someone who knew she was safe. Her breathing was deep and even. She slept, knowing she would not be disturbed or rudely awakened by an unpleasant surprise. He envied her. It had been ages since he’d been able to sleep like that.
Paine pushed back from the desk, putting aside the pile of letters he’d been going through and propped his feet up on the desk’s surface. Most of it was business correspondence. The grande dames of London had ceased issuing him invitations to their social events months ago. The only invitations he received were through his aunt’s connections. London society had as much use for him as he did for it—very little. Until last night, it had been an amicable arrangement. That would have to change.
He couldn’t protect Julia and effectively deal with Oswalt without the ton’s support. That had been his mistake last time. He’d been rash and overbold. Even though there had been those who had applauded his efforts, he’d done it in such a way and over such a thing that no one could openly champion his interference. He had not understood then that there were boundaries to what people would acknowledge, no matter the motivations.
He would be more careful this time, laying his foundations, establishing his credibility, before going after Oswalt. Paine recognised this was about himself as much as it was about Julia. Oswalt had once attempted to ruin him altogether for his sense of misguided honour. It was time to pay him back.
Julia stirred on the sofa, shifting her position in her sleep. She would have to be careful, too. She’d have to agree to stay in the house and go out only with him until they were ready to draw out Oswalt. It wouldn’t do for Oswalt to learn of her location until Paine was ready. Oswalt and her uncle had an agreement for her marriage that could not be overlooked or minimised, no matter what the status of her maidenhead.
It made Paine’s blood boil to think of Oswalt laying any kind of claim, even a paper one, to the beauty sleeping on his sofa. Oswalt was more than a debauched old man. He also experimented deeply in darker sexual practices that went far beyond the sacred joys Paine had initiated Julia into.
Twelve years ago, Oswalt had been an anxious man looking for a cure, any cure, for what ailed him. Paine could only make conjectures about how ravaged the man was now and how much more desperate he’d become for that cure. What the man had been willing to engage in twelve years ago had thoroughly shocked Paine at a time when he thought he was an unshakable, jaded youth. Paine could not bear to envision what the man would be willing to do as his desperation grew exponentially over the years.
Julia had to be protected at all costs.
The force of that realisation was jarring. He had not felt the need to safeguard anyone to that extent for years, maybe not ever, certainly not a woman. But for whatever unexamined reasons, Julia brought out the need in abundance.
In his years abroad, he’d become a businessman, keen at assessing risk and profit. He seldom started a venture without an eye for how it would end. With Julia, it was different. The wealth of risk was there, as it was in any venture, but the profit was veiled at present. Still, with an intuition born of experience, Paine knew he had to see this through to whatever conclusion lay ahead. It wasn’t enough that the passionate, curious, Miss Prentiss had to be protected. If it was, he could fob her off on people more sociably suitable than himself. He could probably talk his Aunt Lily into taking her. No, Julia had to be protected by him. For that to happen, he had to make himself respectable again. There were two ways to respectability: money and connections. Paine had both if he chose to use them.
Paine lowered his feet and got back to work. The first was easy. He had a shipping fortune at his dis
posal. From the stack of letters on his desk, there were many people in need of funds who cared far less where the money originated.
Many of the letters were from highly placed men appealing for a private loan to tide over ageing estates and emptying coffers. That would help with the second requirement for respectability—connections.
Those connections might take more time than he had and Paine had a better card to play, if he dared. His brother was the Earl of Dursley. They had been close once. His scandal with Oswalt had put a rift in that relationship, but perhaps it could be redeemed. He’d been disappointed that his brother, Peyton, had not written to him since his return. He’d loved his two brothers dearly. It looked like he would have to make the first move in that regard. Paine picked up his pen and began to write. The first letter was a long-overdue missive to his brother. The second was a terse note to one of his most trusted employees, Brian Flaherty, who was charged with the mission of seeking out news of Mortimer Oswalt and whether or not the man was hunting down his errant betrothed.
‘Damn it, that’s the fourth one.’ Paine gave his cravat a hard tug and gave up. He’d tried for twenty minutes to fashion a trône d’amour knot. He was supposed to be at the hell by eight. At this rate, he wouldn’t make it until midnight and all he had to show for his delay was an ignominious heap of crumpled lengths of once-pristine linen on the bed.
‘Here, let me try.’ Julia rose from the low bed where she sat watching him go through his toilette. She was dressed in his robe, fresh from a lazy bath, her hair still up in pins. She drew another length of fabric from the drawer and draped it around his neck. Standing in such proximity, he could inhale the delicate scent of her. Tonight, she smelled divinely of English lavender. If serenity and softness had a scent, this would be it. Somehow, the smell suited her to perfection.
She reached up to straighten the linen length and the overlarge robe gaped, affording him an unadulterated glimpse of her breasts. Blood heated in his groin instantly. After all their love play this morning and the night prior, he thought he’d be at least momentarily sated, that his body wouldn’t be capable of rousing again so thoroughly or so soon. Evidence to the contrary made an auspicious tent in his dark trousers. Apparently he was wrong.
Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle Page 38
