He considered arguing but could tell she’d made up her mind. It was her terms or nothing. “You strike a hard bargain,” he said wryly. “But I accept your terms. I’ll have my solicitor draw up an agreement.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“To protect you from my taking advantage of the situation, yes.”
“All right, then. I have an appointment tonight. I could begin working for you tomorrow.”
“You’re not working for me, Vivi. We’re working together. We’re partners.” He emphasized the last word because he needed her to understand she owed him nothing. They were coming into this arrangement as equals. Not an earl’s daughter and an earl’s bastard, but two people working to make a success of this place.
“Partners,” she repeated, and held out her hand.
He wanted to press a kiss to those knuckles, turn her hand over and place a kiss in the center of her palm. Instead he folded his fingers around her offering and gave a light squeeze. “Partners.”
Chapter 16
Later that night when she stepped through the gate at the foundling home, she wasn’t at all surprised to find Finn waiting for her. On the way back that morning, he’d casually asked what time her appointment was, and without thought she’d told him. It seemed they were going to become partners in all their enterprises.
But tonight, it wasn’t only him waiting, it was his brother’s carriage.
“I thought it would save us having to deal with any footpads,” he told her.
She gave the address to the driver, who was standing beside the two horses, then allowed Finn to hand her up into the carriage. She settled onto the squabs facing forward while the conveyance rocked as Finn climbed in and took his place opposite her.
“I attended your brother’s wedding. I saw you there.” She glanced out the window. While she’d been furious and hurt when she’d seen him, she saw no point in mentioning it now that she knew the truth of things. “Perhaps if I hadn’t, I could have married Thornley. But seeing you caused memories to crash in on me, and suddenly I felt as though I’d somehow stumbled onto the wrong path.” She’d feared she’d have been miserable married to Thornley, regardless of how good a man he was.
“Gillie’s rather glad you didn’t.”
She looked at his silhouette within the dark confines, glad no lamp burned inside to cast light over them. It was always easier to speak when encased in shadows. “Is she happy?”
“Extremely so. We’ll have to grab a pint sometime at her tavern.”
“I doubt she’d welcome me as gladly as she did before.”
“She will if you’re with me.”
She wasn’t certain she deserved a welcome.
“How did the sisters take your leaving?” he asked.
“They were rather surprised, I think, at the haste with which I’ll be making my departure. Although Sister Theresa remarked that God provides. They’ll continue to take in the children until they have no more beds. Sister Bernadette will assume my teaching duties.” Hopefully, before long, she could purchase a residence with an abundance of rooms, so she could provide the shelter herself. She’d hire people to look after the children, see to their needs. She’d ensure they were all educated, that they had better lives than they might have had otherwise. The possibilities were suddenly endless, all the various ways she could make a difference filling her with a hope she’d not felt since that night when she and Finn had agreed to run off together.
“It’ll be hard to say goodbye to the children,” she confessed. “But I’ll visit them often. It’s not as though you’re locking me away.”
“I never would, Vivi. You’re free to come and go as you please. The horses are kept in a small stable near the club. You can have Sophie saddled for you anytime you want to have a jaunt.”
“You’re being awfully good to me, Finn. I’m not deserving of it.”
“I’ve told you. I don’t blame you for what your father did.”
“The kiss this morning . . . before I sign any agreement with you, we must come to an understanding that what will be between us is business only. We can’t recapture what we had.”
“I know that, Vivi.”
She experienced a measure of relief and disappointment. He wasn’t the boy she’d loved. He was a man to be reckoned with, and if the stirrings for him she felt in her heart were any indication, what she might eventually feel for him had the possibility of being downright terrifying.
“But that doesn’t mean,” he stated slowly, “that we can’t find something even better than what we had.”
In the darkness he heard her small gasp. Ah, yes, she was once again Finn’s Folly because he did believe there was a chance more could exist between them than discussing who should receive an invitation to their club and what to do with the varied rooms that currently remained empty. He thought working in close proximity might spur the need for additional kisses, touches, whispers.
He had an advantage because now they would be living in close quarters, and she would be in his life every day and every night. In their youth, the time they’d had together had been rare, a treat, something special to be anticipated. Perhaps the rarity of their time together had influenced them into believing what they felt would never dwindle. But he was of a mind to test the waters, not to reclaim, but to build anew. She intrigued him in ways she never had. He liked knowing what she cared about, what she thought. Watching her as she’d considered the characteristics of the ladies who would frequent their club had created a titillating sensation. But then everything about her titillated and aroused him. It always had. Even when she’d been young, and he’d first met her and every fantasy of kissing her had been inappropriate. Christ, he’d never thought she’d be old enough so he could lower the walls he’d erected to protect her from him and what he wanted to do with her.
Then she had been old enough—no, he’d considered her old enough, but looking back he acknowledged that they’d both been too young and inexperienced. Yet the yearning had been so strong as to block out any common sense. He longed for the nights when he’d been unable to sleep because of his want of her.
“If you seek to take advantage of this partnership—”
“I was willing to give you fifty percent,” he cut in. “I’d hardly call that taking advantage.”
“I’m not referring to the financial aspects. I’m referring to the physical.”
He was surprised she’d put it so bluntly but then he was discovering she was bolder with the confrontations. Before where she might have thrown an upset, now she kept her tone even yet somehow deadlier, more effective at getting her point across.
“I noticed several doors,” she said. “Perhaps behind one of those is a room I could use as my own office.”
“So I have to get up from my desk and go searching for you whenever I have a question? It’ll be more convenient if we share an office, so we can discuss matters that arise.”
“Finn, I don’t have it within me to love again.”
“That’s not true, Vivi. You love those children.”
“That’s different. They’re different. I’m speaking of passion—”
“You didn’t stop me from kissing you earlier. What are you afraid of? Of discovering something even better than what we had? Or perhaps you fear discovering we paid an ungodly price for something that wasn’t worth paying anything at all for.”
She released a great gust of air. “Maybe. I don’t know. I just want to make sure we’re being realistic going into this arrangement. I’m not certain we were before, and I think it’s imperative we are now to avoid any further hurt.”
“If you never experience pain, Vivi, how can you ever truly appreciate the joy that arrives when you don’t?”
His words seemed simple when in truth she found his sentiment profound. She’d once never gone without, and during the past three months she’d struggled with her dwindling finances and what she felt now, knowing the struggle was behind her, was sweet i
ndeed. She’d always taken for granted what she’d had. No longer.
But it was more than that. Before, everything had been given to her, and now, with Finn’s help, she would be earning her coins, she would be gaining independence in a way she hadn’t before. Since leaving her family, all her decisions had been her own, but many of her actions had been tempered by her lack of funds. His offer was opening up an entirely different world for her. She would be able to see to her own needs, care for herself. There was power to be found in not relying on anyone—even though she had to acknowledge she was reliant on his generosity. But once the papers were signed, once they became partners, she would earn her way, make herself invaluable. He’d given her an opportunity to make something of herself that she had no intention of squandering.
She’d always followed the path set before her, but now she had the means to forge her own route, could determine her own destination. She wanted to glory in it.
He had no idea how broken she’d been, and if she had her way, he’d never learn the entire truth of it. Finally, she was on the mend, stronger than she’d been. A shattered teacup, pieced back together, might not be as lovely to look at as one that had never been dropped, but if both were dropped again, the shattered one was less likely to break because it was reinforced with glue. She drew comfort from that.
She didn’t respond to him. The point of his question had been to make her think, not to obtain an answer. And he didn’t press. He sat there with no tension whatsoever radiating off him. She marveled at the calm of him. She’d noted it that first night in the alleyway when the women had threatened her. He didn’t fear the dark or any of the miscreants who crept through it. He was capable of caring for himself, had learned to put all his faith in his abilities.
It was something about herself she was only just coming to comprehend: she had the power to stand on her own. Any victory or defeat came about because of her own actions, her own decisions, her own resolve.
The carriage came to a halt. Immediately he opened the door and leaped out before reaching back for her.
“Keep driving along these streets,” he called up to the driver. “Periodically make your way back here. This is where we’ll meet you when we’ve completed our task.”
As the carriage carried on, he turned to her. “Lead the way.”
It wasn’t very far, and they were a bit early. She was grateful he’d had the foresight to bring the carriage. A brisk wind whipped through the air, bringing a chill with it that caused her to shiver. She brought her pelisse in more snugly against her as she stepped over garbage and recalled the path she was to follow from this point. They seemed to walk through a maze of warrens before she reached the darkened building with a long sash tied around the handle. She wasn’t to go in. The meeting wouldn’t happen there. The sash merely marked the spot.
“How many?” he asked.
Widening her eyes, looking in the direction from which his voice had come, she realized he was lost in the shadows. “Pardon?”
“How many children tonight?”
“Three.”
Only when a woman finally approached, barely limned by the light of a distant streetlamp, three children were clinging to her skirt, fairly tripping over their feet in their effort to keep up with her pace, and one babe was nestled in her arms. “Ye be the one wot wants to pay me for this brood?”
Lavinia stepped forward, already reaching for the smallest. “Yes, I am.”
“That’ll be ten quid.”
She stopped as though the carriage had returned and now separated her from them. “You said five.”
The woman bounced the infant. “That was afore I got this one handed over to me last night. Fresh from the womb, I’d say. Ye want ’er, it’ll be ten quid for the lot of them.”
The other three blinked up at her through large, round eyes, eyes too large for their thin faces. She looked back to the shadows. “Have you any money on you?”
“I have.” He stepped forward into the light. “But you won’t be needing it.”
The baby farmer squeaked like a rat pounced on by a cat. “Who ye be?”
“Trewlove. Perhaps you’ve heard of my family.”
The woman took another step back. “I’ve ’erd of ye.”
“Then you’ll know we tend not to tolerate those who seek to take advantage of others,” Finn said. “You’ve only just acquired the infant. I doubt you’ve paid a single penny for its care, so what was handed to you last night is pure profit. Be content with that. Otherwise you might find me stealing into your residence some night.” He gave the beastly woman a smile that sent a chill racing down Lavinia’s back.
“’Ere.” She thrust the babe into Lavinia’s arms, then worked to free her skirts of the fisted hands that clung to them, transferring the children to Lavinia’s pelisse.
She was in the process of cradling the babe in one arm when she noticed Finn holding a banknote out to the woman, who snatched it and raced off. The children, who’d been eerily silent until that moment, began bawling.
“Here now,” Finn said. “Who wants to ride on my back?”
“Me,” the tallest, a boy, proclaimed. The others went quiet as Finn grabbed him and swung him around as though he were a little monkey. Perhaps he was, because he scrambled up the man’s back and wound his arms about his neck and his legs around his stomach.
Finn knelt and patted his thighs. “All right, you two. Up here. Into my arms. I’d wager you’ve never seen the world from up here.”
She’d wager that as well as they rushed into his arms and he uncoiled that long lengthy body of his. Her insides did funny little twirls at the sight of him waiting patiently as the children clambered into position. She didn’t want to contemplate what a wonderful father he might have been had they married, how he might have played with his own children.
Her father had certainly never played with her. He’d always been someone to obey without question. She had no memory of ever laughing with him. She couldn’t help but believe Finn would tickle his children until he heard their laughter, his joining in with theirs.
“Let’s go,” Finn said. “Everyone, hang on tight.”
And she had this ridiculous urge to hang on to him as well. They began trekking back along the path they’d traversed earlier. The streets were quiet, dark, abandoned. She supposed the baby farmer wanted no witnesses to what she was doing. Eventually they reached the spot where the carriage was to meet them. It arrived less than a minute after they did. They settled into the carriage with the girls sitting on either side of her, the boy beside Finn. Based on their size, none of them could have been any older than four, although it was also possible their growth had been stunted with insufficient food and care.
“You were planning to handle this lot on your own?” Finn asked.
“It would have been a challenge, but I’d have managed.”
“And when she asked for more blunt?”
“I’d have arranged to meet her tomorrow or perhaps I’d have tried to bluff my way through.”
The girls were curled against her sides. She was aware of their bodies relaxing and assumed the swaying of the coach was putting them to sleep.
“From now on, Vivi, I go with you on these excursions.”
It was pointless to argue, because she knew he’d tag along even if she objected. Besides, she liked knowing he was near if something unexpected turned up. Although she was a little cautious in asking, “It seems the work you do for your brother has given you quite the reputation.”
“It’s more than me, it’s all of us. My brothers, Gillie. We’ve often helped people out of one scrape or another.”
“Well, you’ve certainly helped me, not only with the children, but with your generous offer. Here, I thought I was special,” she teased.
“You are.” His tone carried no teasing whatsoever, embarrassed her a bit with the earnestness of it. She felt as though she’d been fishing for some sort of reassurance, even though all he’d done for her
already proved his statement true.
The carriage came to a halt in front of the foundling home. The path was short, so the children walked through the gate, Finn following along behind them as she led them to the back of the residence. After ushering the children inside, she turned back to Finn. “I’ll awaken one of the sisters to help me. They’re not comfortable with a man in the residence.”
“Will you need help moving tomorrow?”
She shook her head. “I have very little to bundle up.”
“Take a hansom. If you haven’t the means, I’ll pay him once you get there.”
“I do wish you wouldn’t be so generous, Finn.”
He grinned. “You complain about the oddest things.” Then he leaped off the step and disappeared into the darkness.
Turning, she came up short at the sight of Sister Theresa standing there, wondered if Finn had seen her and that was the reason he hadn’t lingered.
“Your gentleman seems most persistent,” the sister said as she retreated inside where the children were patiently waiting.
Clutching the infant close, Lavinia followed. “He’s not really my man.” She wasn’t pleased that her words seemed to lack utter conviction.
Sister Theresa merely gave her an indulgent smile before asking, “What do we do first? Bathe them or feed them?”
“Feed them, I should think.”
Chapter 17
The following morning, with all her meager belongings stuffed into a burlap potato sack, she clambered into a hansom cab and headed to the club. Saying farewell to the children had been remarkably hard, but she’d promised to return on the morrow for a short visit. The ones she’d acquired the night before had settled in well. She knew the sisters would take good care of them.
When next she visited, she’d bring all the children sweets. After that, shoes. As her finances allowed, she’d provide them with clothing, something new and special to wear to church on Sundays. Eventually she’d purchase a multiroom residence so she could care for more children. She would live there with them and travel to the club each day. Her partnership with Finn would provide her with the means to do the things she wanted, but it wouldn’t be her main focus. No, that would always remain the children who were in need of love and care.
The Scoundrel in Her Bed (Sins for All Seasons #3) Page 19
