The Smithfield Bargain: A Regency Romance (The Wolfe Family Book 1)

by Jo Ann Ferguson

  “Do plan to have an at-home with me again.”

  “I would like that, but we should have it at my grandfather’s house. I would not want to disturb your father while he is ill. How is he?”

  Her face became a mask of tragedy. “Father is failing. His doctor debates whether he has days to live or hours.”

  “I am so sorry. I know what it is like to live in fear of losing someone you love.”

  Instead of answering, the brunette choked and hurried away. Romayne considered following, for she feared Philomena had misunderstood her words. She had not been talking of her sorrow for Bradley. That had ended when she discovered that he was alive. She had been speaking of the appalling grief of watching James ride off to his probable death with the army.

  “You cannot help her.”

  Romayne frowned as she looked at Bradley. His cold words offered no compassion. “Don’t let me keep you from soothing her then.”

  “She does not want my help tonight, my sweet.”

  “You shouldn’t call me that when—” She glanced guiltily toward where Philomena was now talking to Lord Kimmel. Could it be that she was renewing her relationship with the man she had spurned for Bradley?

  “Philomena knows that my affection for you is very different from what I feel for her.”

  “Even so, you should have delayed breaking off your relationship with her until—”

  Sandwiching her gloved hand between his, he murmured, “Sweet Romayne, you need not hesitate. No one doubts that Lord Harcourt has few days left. Such a good man he is, so he has no concern about his next world.”

  “Yet Philomena must be frantic about the thought of being without her father and without you.” Withdrawing her hand, she said, “You should have thought of her feelings.”

  He refused to take offense. As he sat beside her and put his arm around her waist, bringing her back farther into the shadows near the wall, he smiled.

  “Release me!” she ordered, her eyes widening as she recalled telling James the same thing only hours before.

  “Release you?” He cupped her chin in his hand. “Sweet one, MacKinnon could not have changed you so completely. Don’t you recall how you once loved this?”

  His mouth pushed against hers as he pinned her to the wall. Her hands on his chest could not prevent him from sliding closer. She felt smothered, every touch a separate agony.

  Turning her face away, she choked, “Stop this, Bradley!”

  “Soon you shall be a divorced woman, shamed by your husband’s claims—”

  “There will be no divorce!”

  “No?” He smiled mysteriously as his fingers moved along her. “MacKinnon has made little secret of his yearning to be rid of you and your bargain.” He laughed. “A bargain with a Smithfield? A Smithfield bargain, my sweet?”

  “’Tis no Smithfield bargain!” she asserted, but knew her cheeks were flaming.

  “No? I have heard otherwise, but MacKinnon may have been lying. What else can you expect of an Itchlander?”

  “Don’t call him that!” She pushed away his hand as it reached for the ribbons edging her high bodice. Raising her chin, she snapped, “I don’t know what idiotic tales you may have listened to, but James and I—”

  “Soon will be divorced. Don’t try to deny it when I heard him say so myself this afternoon at Brooks’s.”

  “You are not a member of Brooks’s!”

  “I was there at the duke’s request to witness an agreement between your soon-to-be ex-husband and His Grace.”

  “Grandfather would invite you nowhere but to Hades.”

  His smile wavered. “Mayhap you are right, my sweet, but I was there to hear what they discussed. MacKinnon couldn’t be bought off cheaply, but the duke met his price to get him out of your life. Do not be surprised if he vanishes before the week is out.”

  Romayne shook her head as his warning resurrected her fear for James. “You are lying!”

  “Why would I lie to you? I am telling you the truth because I think you should know.”

  “Why?” she choked. “So, if this laughable story was true, I would feel obligated to you for telling me the truth? I owe you no duty, Bradley Montcrief, and I never shall.” Tears filled her eyes. “Even if what you are saying is true, I can tell you that I never, ever would consider marrying a man who delights in carrying such tales. James was right, and so was Grandfather. You are a cruel and twisted man. First you left me to be killed, thinking only of yourself. Then you hurt Philomena by leaving her when she needed you most. Now you try to break my heart anew, but you cannot, because you are no longer within it!”

  Rising, she did not wait for his answer.

  While Romayne and Ellen were eating breakfast the next morning, James came into the breakfast parlor dressed in his riding clothes. The dark brown coat and cream breeches complemented his russet hair even as they followed the strong lines of his body. No sign of his sling damaged his image of a country squire about to enjoy a run across the meadows.

  “Ellen, up so early?” He sat beside Romayne after pouring himself a cup of coffee. “I thought you would be late abed after last night.”

  She smiled. “I have found that Lord Culver is delightful company. He tells me tales of the others in the room, which lead me to laughter. However, I fear he is far more serious than I am about this flirtation. Romayne, you were correct. It is too early in my first Season to think only of one man.”

  “I am glad you see the sense of that,” Romayne answered, struggling to hide her amazement. Ellen was usually as stubborn as her cousin.

  James laughed. “Even a Dunbar can own foolishness eventually. Right, Ellen?”

  She lifted her cup of hot chocolate and sipped it before she said, “I agree. It isn’t easy for a Dunbar to own when she is wrong.”

  Romayne wondered if she had missed something important. This had been smoothed over too suddenly. With a pang of dismay, she feared that James had convinced his cousin to agree to his demands because it might be the last request he would make of her.

  “This is a change of heart, Ellen,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. “What has brought this about?”

  “Mr. Boumphrey,” she answered with a delighted smile.

  Seeing James with his cup halfway to his lips, Romayne knew he was as astonished as she was. “Norman Boumphrey?” she asked.

  “I spoke with him last night, too. He was very attentive.” She rested her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands. “Do you think he will give me a look-in today when he calls on Lady Philomena?”

  Romayne was uncertain what to say, so she fell back on the trite. Ellen should not be receiving callers until she was officially out tonight. That evaded the truth. Although Mr. Boumphrey was a pleasant gentleman, he had no more money than Ellen. His sister-in-law’s charity kept him from penury. James must be told, but not now, not when Ellen was enthralled by Mr. Boumphrey’s company.

  Clayson came into the room. “Mr. MacKinnon, His Grace requests your presence in the stable.”

  Putting his hand over Romayne’s, James flashed her a smile before saying, “Please inform the duke that I shall be with him immediately.”

  The butler nodded before leaving.

  Romayne frowned. “In the stable? Why would Grandfather wish to see you there?”

  “Why don’t you come out while I meet with your grandfather, and you can see for yourself?” Setting himself on his feet, he drew out her chair. “Romayne, I wanted to talk to you before I leave for my ride today.”

  “Where are you going?” Ellen asked.

  “Do I need both of you looking after me like a mother cat with her litter?” He grinned. “Leave the nagging to Romayne, cousin.”

  Ellen stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed.

  Romayne wished she could join in with their frivolity. Unlike Ellen, who could be teased from her worry by a jest, Romayne suspected that James might be riding to a meeting with death.

  “Romayne?”
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  At James’s impatience, she sighed. Again, as he was far too often he was correct. She must help him now, when he was so close to success, as she had at the beginning. She put her hand on James’s hand and let him help her to her feet. She looked back as they walked out of the room, and Ellen waved with a cheery smile.

  Spring warmth slipped beneath Romayne’s fringed kashmir shawl as they emerged into the garden. Spears of greenery pierced the stones of the walk and were woven through the latticework of an arch beside the path. The song of a bird heralded that winter, at long last, was giving up its hold on England. Spring was here with its new beginnings.

  “You have not smiled since you wandered off last night at Mrs. Kingsley’s,” James said softly. “Did Montcrief say or do something to upset you?”

  She stopped and faced him. “What does it matter to you when you are ready to career off to your splendid success?”

  “You think I can go without a backward look?”

  “Isn’t that what you have planned?”

  He sighed. “If I had more head than guts, I would say yes, but you know that is not true.”

  A bellow kept Romayne from answering. She gathered her skirt inappropriately high and raced after James, who was sprinting toward the stable. Pausing in the doorway to allow her eyes to adjust to the gloom, she gasped when she saw her grandfather glowering at an anvil. He must have stubbed his toe against it.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “What are you doing here?” he retorted in a testy voice.

  “He is fine,” James said too low for her grandfather to hear.

  “I said I wished to speak with you alone, James,” the duke stated.

  Romayne glanced at James, who smiled and whispered, “We’re friends now, don’t you know? Your grandfather appears to have reconciled himself to having a Scottish husband for his granddaughter.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “Do you think I’m no richt? He still considers me a hallion.” He laughed. “A rogue, my dear English wife.”

  Romayne was sure the whole world had gone insane when her grandfather said, “Child, leave, so your husband and I can complete our discussion.”

  “The one you began at Brooks’s yesterday?”

  “Who told you of that?”

  Before she could answer, James chuckled. “Who else? Montcrief could barely wait to get her alone last evening. What pap did he fill your head with, Romayne?”

  “Apparently the truth that you, Grandfather, offered to pay James to abandon me and that he accepted. Do not let me keep you from your negotiations. I hope, James, you got an excellent price for destroying what is left of my reputation.”

  And my heart!

  She whirled, running along the path and into the house. Climbing the back stairs, she tried to flee her pain. It would not relinquish its hold on her. She shoved her bedroom door closed behind her.

  When it did not crash, she turned and stared at the fury on James’s face. He shut the door quietly, then twisted the key.

  “’Tis time we talked. I have much to say to you and little time before I have to leave to meet Farmer.”

  “Good, for I want you to know one thing before you ride for Brighton.”

  “I know what you want to say.”

  “Do you?”

  He nodded and slipped off his coat. Going to the dressing room, he hung it on a peg. When he left the door open behind him, she knew, like her, he must have discovered that Grange had made it a habit to spy on them. “I know I have ruined your life, and for that I am sorry, Romayne. You should know that I have no plans to accept any offer your grandfather makes me to refute our marriage. That would hurt you, and I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

  “You can repay me,” she said as she put her fingers on his arms and drew them toward her. “Don’t go to Brighton. It is too dangerous.”

  He snorted his disbelief. “Do I dare believe you are worried for me? How much easier it would be for you to be the widow of a war hero! Then you can have Montcrief. Shed a few hypocritical tears over my grave before you dance at your wedding, won’t you?”

  Her hand struck his face. When he seized her by the shoulders, she stared at him in horror. She had never slapped any man. He took a half step toward her. She backed away, bumping into the wall. Her breath burst from her in astonishment, but she could not move before he put one hand on either side of her. Imprisoned between the iron strength of his arms, she stared up at him.

  “Is Montcrief the man you truly want?” he asked with a serenity she knew was a deception.

  “No, for I fear I am seeing Bradley with different eyes.”

  “Clear and honest ones.” His fingers were gentle as they teased the soft hair at her temple. Moving closer, he whispered, “I never wanted to use you, Romayne. I wanted to help you, too.”

  “And you have, but you ask too much of me, James. Too much from a heart that is as confused and frightened as a cat in a room of dogs.”

  He smiled as his thumb stroked her chin before tipping it toward him. “Is that how you see me? A beast set to devour you? So often you have called me beastly.”

  “You are beastly.”

  “Without a doubt, and you are the beauty who lures this beast from his lair. Romayne …” His breathy sigh was branded into her lips for the briefest second. “I shall try to be back in time for Ellen’s come-out tonight, but do not fret for me if I am late.”

  “You’re going to miss her firing off? She’ll be heartbroken.”

  “As I shall be.” His fingers twisted through her hair in the moment before his lips captured hers anew. Before she could do more than run her fingers up to his shoulders, he pulled away. “As I am each moment I am away from you, dearie.”

  Romayne stood with her hands outstretched as he closed the door behind him, so he could ride to capture his man. Then he would shut her out of his arms and out of his heart, she feared, forever.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Where is Jamie?”

  Romayne turned so Grange could hook her up and tried to smile as she saw Ellen’s distress. “He said he might be a bit late.”

  “To my firing off?” She stamped her foot on the floor. “Blast him! How could he go off today?”

  Motioning for Grange to leave them alone, Romayne took Ellen’s trembling hands in hers. “Sit down.”

  Ellen shook her head. “I do not want to wrinkle my gown.”

  With a sigh, Romayne nodded. She could understand Ellen’s anxiety to appear her best tonight. And the young woman did, for her gown was of unblemished white silk. The neckline, though square, was modest for Ellen’s entrance into the Polite World. Mother-of-pearl buttons decorated the narrow shoulders, and fringe dropped from the short sleeves.

  The French gauze gown Romayne had chosen for herself befit her place as a married woman. A rich rose color, it was laced across the low bodice below the tippets that were fringed with gold braid. The short train of gold drifted from the back of the skirt. With matching silk slippers and gloves that reached beyond her elbows, she needed only to latch her gold necklace in place beneath her upswept curls to be ready to greet her guests.

  If only James was here … Not only to be by her side for Ellen’s sake, but because she longed for him to be safe.

  “James asked me,” she said, trying to sound as if nothing was amiss as she closed her jewelry case, “to offer his regrets to you. He promised to endeavor to return as soon as he can.”

  “From where?”

  “He met a gentleman last night at Mrs. Kingsley’s. They went for a ride.”

  Romayne knew her excuse was as thin as an anatomy when Ellen snapped, “That is absurd! He went off for a ride with a stranger tonight? He should be here with me!”

  “Ellen, your cousin has other concerns at the moment,” Romayne replied.

  Something in her voice must have reached Ellen. Her outrage vanished. “Do you think he is in danger?”

  “No,” she lied.
Being false had become so easy in the past weeks. When she heard a voice beyond the door, she said, “Your mother is looking for you, Ellen.”

  “I must go.” Ellen hesitated, then said as she went out the door, “I’m sorry I raised my voice to you. It’s not like Jamie to be late. That is why I am worried about him.”

  “I am, too,” she whispered.

  Romayne closed the door and went to look out the window over the street. The lamplighters were doing their work along the square, and as she watched, the lamps began to glow like stars popping out of a cloud-strewn sky.

  James’s warnings that she was in danger whispered through her head, and she wondered if those around her might be in equal jeopardy. So easily she might have accepted his theory if she could have found one reason for someone to kill her. The scant inheritance she possessed would soon be depleted with the bills to the modiste, and she had no idea about the money her grandfather had invested. For all she knew, the investment might have gone sour.

  She rubbed her bare arms. If James had found success today, this might be the last time she waited for him. He would disappear from her life as completely as a fog before the morning sun. Yet she did not want him to fail, because that could mean disaster beyond anything she dared to imagine.

  “James, hurry home,” she whispered. “Don’t do something out of hand.” She let the curtains fall back into place.

  Drawing on her gloves, she listened for the sound of a single horse’s shoes on the cobbles. That could signal James’s return. She heard nothing as she went to her dressing table. Gazing at her colorless face in the mirror, she tried to smile. She must look her best tonight for Ellen.

  The lower floor was in a jumble when she came down the stairs. From the foyer below, she could hear Clayson giving orders to the footmen and the rest of the staff. Nothing must be overlooked for the first party this house had hosted since Romayne’s launch into society the previous year.

  Going into the ballroom, she smiled. No spot of dust marred the crystal drops on the chandeliers, and the mirrored panels that reflected the dim light from the windows were free of any streaks. The floor gleamed with the hours of attention it had received. In the back corner, a quartet was tuning their instruments so music would greet the guests as the footmen took their wraps.