Love in the Bargain: A Sweet Regency Romance (Women of Worth Book 1)

by Kasey Stockton

  Lady Clifton dipped her head in acknowledgment, a smile briefly tipping the corners of her mouth. She turned to me. “You shall be out of the spotlight soon, Miss Cox. Give this book another day or two to finish circulation and I am sure no one will even remember your name ever graced the news.”

  Mother’s entire face was tight when she ushered me back to the carriage. I merely held on to hope that the duchess’s words would come to fruition.

  “To Hatchards,” Mother said crisply to the footman helping us into the cab. “We must buy that book.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “A parcel arrived for you, Miss Elsie,” Billington said when we arrived home empty-handed. Mother humphed, dropping her shawl onto the butler’s arms and stomping up to her dressing room.

  I thanked Billington and took the bundle upstairs to my bedchamber. The note was in Rosalynn’s hand, but I set it aside. I was fairly sure I knew what she had sent over. Untying the string, I peeled back the thick brown paper to reveal a leather-bound book with golden letters on the cover.

  The Green Door.

  Thank the heavens Rosalynn could see through Mother’s paltry defenses and knew we did not have the book in our possession. She must have been aware The Green Door was sold out all over London for the time being, which was certainly going to aide in its exclusivity.

  I opened up the first page and dove in.

  The passage of time was evident in the darkening of my bedroom window, and Molly coming in to light the lamps. I set the book down and stretched my arms high above my head, unaware that I had wasted an entire day enthralled in the story of lords spurned and ladies deceived. It was captivating and entirely inappropriate, and Mother never would have allowed me to read it if she had gotten her hands on it first.

  Thank you, Rosalynn.

  Molly pulled a gown from the wardrobe and subtly helped me from my bed. I rubbed my tired eyes and yawned, allowing her to help me out of my day dress and into a...ball gown?

  “Molly, you’ve chosen the wrong dress.”

  She gave me a small smile. “Heard it from the missus. Change of plans. You’re going to a ball tonight.”

  I frowned. “Do you know where it is to be held? I’ve not heard of anything for this evening.”

  She shrugged. “Sorry, miss. I don’t know.”

  Tucking the book under my pillow, I gave it one last longing glance before picking up my silver silk shawl and wrapping it around my shoulders. Mother was awaiting me in the foyer and made to leave when I joined her.

  “Should we not wait for Father?”

  “He is off at his club for the evening, so it is only us tonight.”

  “Where are we headed?” I asked as we descended the steps to the waiting carriage. The wind swallowed my question and I asked her again once we were seated inside.

  “Aunt Georgina has sent us an invitation for a soiree she is hosting this evening.”

  I glanced down at the simple rosettes embroidered on my gown. It was the same one I had worn to the Gibsons’ ball. “But I am in a ball gown.”

  “Don’t be daft. It is a ball.”

  We approached a well-lit townhouse, complete with liveried footmen lining the steps and music and laughter floating through the open windows. It was no Berkeley Street, but it was still a prominent neighborhood; a testament of Aunt Georgina’s immense wealth.

  “Be on your best behavior tonight,” Mother said.

  As though I ever wasn’t. “Yes, Mother.”

  There were a few people I recognized from other events, but for the most part, I did not see many of my aunt’s guests that I knew.

  There was no receiving line. Our names were announced, the majority of the people nearby turning to look. My cheeks grew warm from the attention and I followed my mother with a meekness I did not know myself capable of. She had spotted an acquaintance and beelined for the group of women we knew.

  “Mrs. Cox, I did not think to see you here this evening,” an older woman said.

  “Beatrice, did you not know Georgina Stuart is David Cox’s aunt?” Mrs. Hapworth cut in, her long ostrich plume bobbing along with her head.

  “I knew,” the woman responded.

  Mother smiled in a way that made me nervous. “Mrs. Johns, I recently learned of your son’s return from Spain. How is he doing?”

  The older woman’s face went crimson. “He is home now, recovering from his wounds.”

  “And your daughter, Mrs. Hapworth?”

  “She is dancing now,” the woman replied smugly. “With Lord McGregor.”

  My head spun to the dance floor and I took in the attractive couple in the midst of a waltz. Lord McGregor was smiling down at Cecily, leading her through the steps. A strange part of me did not like seeing them together. But on further deduction, it was not jealousy I was feeling, but something of a more defensive nature.

  “They make a handsome couple, do they not, Miss Cox?”

  “Hmm? Oh, yes,” I said. “Quite lovely.”

  Before Mother could bring up the lone carriage ride Lord McGregor took me on to Hyde park recently, I hooked my arm around hers and said, “We really must greet my aunt, Mother, should we not?”

  Her smile was tight. “Of course, Elsie.”

  I led her toward the back of the room where Aunt Georgina was holding court among a circle of older women. Her gown was a large arrangement of purple and gold, her ample girth covered in silk flowers and artfully placed bows. The violet feathers protruding from her elaborate coiffure were made all the brighter set against her stark white hair. Quirky style aside, it was clear Aunt Georgina was surprised by our appearance and I strained to hide my embarrassment. It crossed my mind to wonder if Mother had brought me along to the party uninvited, but I refused to believe even she could sink that low.

  “Elspeth, darling, I did not expect to see you tonight.” Aunt Georgina stood and offered me her cheek. I obligingly kissed it.

  Mother said, “It was kind of you to invite us this evening. Unfortunately, David had prior engagements but we could not pass up the opportunity to attend.”

  “I’m sure.” Turning to me, my aunt gave me a very knowing smile. “Gratified as I am that you chose to attend one of my events, you don’t need to sit by this old biddy all evening when you’d rather be dancing.” She settled herself back into her chair and leaned forward, admonishing. “But tell me you will come by sometime this week? I’ve yet to get my visit out of you, darling.”

  My neck warmed. I had told her I would visit when we met her at the park and was long overdue on that promise. “Of course. I would love to.”

  “Splendid.”

  We turned to leave and she called, “Must you go, Mrs. Cox? I was looking forward to a quiet coze.”

  Mother stilled, pasting on a stiff smile. “Run along, Elspeth.”

  I looked at her with no little confusion. Run along? I was no child. Who was I meant to run along to? None of my friends were even here.

  At that moment, Cecily came off the dance floor on Lord McGregor’s arm and I pivoted away. I would prefer not to be wrapped into a conversation with her if I could help it. Unfortunately, by not watching where I was going, I ran straight into another gentleman, only to lose my balance and nearly topple over. His arms shot out and steadied me and I laughed to stem my awkwardness.

  When I glanced up, I was stricken with the distinct impression that I had seen this man before, though I knew not where.

  “Miss Cox,” he said smoothly. “I am glad to run into you. Tell me, how have you been?”

  I gingerly stepped away. “I am sorry, sir, do I know you?”

  “You wound me,” he said dramatically, slapping his hand against his well adorned chest. His clothing was well made, his hair neatly styled. “Do you not recall the moment we met? I shall never forget it, I vow.”

  There was something so familiar about his face that I trusted the truth of his words. I simply could not place them. The answer was on the edge of my consciousness, close enou
gh to know it was there, but still just out of reach.

  “Shall we dance?” he asked, his smile wide and inviting. He had light brown hair and crinkles around his eyes that were evidence of his affinity for smiling.

  Caution reminded me that I’d yet to learn his name. But I found it didn’t bother me, and I placed my hand in his and allowed him to lead me into a cotillion.

  The dance was a measure in patience. Each time I was within reach of my partner, I found myself wishing to know his name. I passed through another man’s hands and my gaze continually traveled back to him. When the dance finally came to a close, he escorted me from the floor toward the back corner of the room. We were still in plain sight, but he helped me to sit on a bench out of the way.

  “Major Gregory Heybourne at your service,” he said with a flourish before sitting beside me.

  I knew instantly who he was and where I had previously met him, and my face undoubtedly showed my shock. He chuckled softly.

  “Have you been to Bath recently?” he asked with a mischievous glint to his eye.

  “As a matter of fact, I have not been to Bath since I met you last. And you are so changed, sir. I never would have guessed...” Blood rushed to my cheeks and I cast my eyes down. It was utterly mortifying to be in this position. No wonder he had chosen to conceal his identity until after we had danced. He knew I would have had a hard time accepting a dance from him if I’d known.

  By my word, I never would have guessed that the tall, handsome man before me was the same one I had danced with at the assembly hall in Bath when my parents had taken me on a short holiday two years before. I had been sixteen and caught up in my first public ball, when the kind Major Heybourne in his handsome regimentals had asked me to partner him. He had been at least twice as wide then as he was now, and his considerable girth made dancing a slightly difficult feat. It had turned dangerous when he tripped over my gown, propelling me into a group of ladies idly chatting nearby holding glasses of bright red punch.

  I had doused all of them with their drinks, as well as myself, and twisted my ankle in the process, to the extent that I had to be taken home for the evening.

  I was so mortified at the time that I stayed in my room at our inn until my parents were ready to travel home, refusing Major Heybourne when he came to the hotel to inquire after me.

  “Have you been in Bath all this time?” I asked.

  “No,” he said, smiling. Our acquaintance had only been of a few days in Bath, but I remembered distinctly Major Heybourne’s consistent smiling, and his kind soul. “I was called back to fight Napoleon shortly after that incident. I had been on leave at the time, you’ll recall.”

  “Yes,” I nodded. “You look so changed,” I couldn’t help but say. Embarrassment immediately clutched my stomach. Why had I so brazenly commented on his change in weight? It hadn’t caused me to appreciate his friendship any less at the time, and it didn’t make me enjoy his company any more now. Though I had to admit his dancing was much improved. I suppose that was something to appreciate.

  He laughed out loud. “Lack of food on the Peninsula will do that to a man.”

  His jovial tone did not match his words. “That cannot have been easy.”

  “No, it wasn’t easy,” he agreed, his smile turning endearing.

  “Elspeth!”

  I jerked away from the shrill voice behind me.

  Mother stood there, her strained expression doing nothing to hide her discomfort.

  “Mother, you remember Major Heybourne?”

  Her face stilled. I could see her mind working to make the connection between the name she recognized and the changed man sitting before her.

  “Yes,” she said finally. “From Bath, was it?”

  I had yet to decide if it was positive that Mother recognized the Major when he stood and bowed becomingly, his bright smile winning him a smile in return. The episode in Bath had not been my best moment. I was glad we seemed to have put it behind us. At the time, I had wholeheartedly blamed the man before me. But in truth, it was a stumble; a simple mistake. It could happen to anyone, and I had long since let go of any resentment I had childishly clung to regarding Major Heybourne. I was gratified Mother seemed to have done the same.

  “Are you staying in town?” Major Heybourne eyed me before turning back to Mother.

  “We are in Berkeley Street.”

  “May I presume to call upon you at some point in the future?”

  I glanced at Mother once and then back to the Major. It mattered not that she approved. I had only one answer I was permitted to give.

  “I would like it above all things, sir.” Not a complete exaggeration, if one was to consider the men that had asked me that same question so far. Major Heybourne certainly was among the highest of the list.

  “How blessed I was to run into you, Miss Cox.” Major Heybourne had a smile playing on his lips and I read the implication of his words.

  Mother gave him a searching look. “Fortuitous, indeed.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The ball was nearing its close when I spotted a familiar face sitting alone on the other side of the room. I caught her gaze and found I had no other recourse but to cross to where she sat. I approached with some trepidation, but it was unnecessary to worry about how I would be received. Or, so I told myself. “How are you, Cecily?”

  Her hazel eyes searched my own and I considered the possibility that I should have ignored her instead, as I had done earlier. But one does not share a room with another person for the entirety of our years at school and then give them the cut direct in the ballroom.

  “I am well enough,” she answered.

  There was ample room on the bench, but I did not presume to sit beside her.

  “Are you enjoying the Season?” I asked, beginning to regret my approach.

  She nodded. “In part. I don’t believe we’ll be staying long, however. There are things that must be attended to at home, you see. I cannot be away for long.”

  I nodded. Though truthfully, I had no idea what she was referring to.

  “Have you any more luck in remembering names?”

  She eyed me. “I am improving, of course. With parties every evening it would be hard not to.”

  I waited a beat longer, then said, “I shall see you around, then.”

  “Perhaps,” she said with a shrug, her attention floating back to the dancers.

  I was dismissed, but it was no matter. I had never particularly liked Cecily, I only felt sorry for her undeserved reputation at school. If anyone should know that she spent each night in her own bed, it was I. But it mattered little what I said in defense, her reputation never recovered fully after the rumors involving her and the dancing master had made their destructive rounds.

  Mother’s beckoning gaze called me and I met her at the door. Her face seemed to have aged in the span of the last few hours. Her eyes looked dull, her mouth drawn.

  “Let’s go home,” she said weakly.

  I picked up her hand and strung it through my arm, a rare surge of affection coursing through me. “Yes, Mama. Let’s go home.”

  “THIS IS PERHAPS THE most entertaining thing I have ever read.” I looked up from the leather-bound book in my hand and caught Molly’s eye through my vanity mirror. “I must find a way to present it to my mother.”

  “Shall I place it in her dressing room?”

  “No.” I sighed. “If I want her to know I’ve read it, then I must present it to her.”

  Molly continued placing pins in my hair, fixing me with a stare. “Why does she have to know you’ve read it?”

  A smile played on my lips. It was not as though I’d never hidden novels from my parents. Of course I had. But Lady Clifton’s words rang in my ears. This was likely to be the most talked about thing in all of London’s drawing rooms. “It is bound to be brought up in conversations, and if Mother knows I read it then I needn’t guard my tongue.”

  I carried the book down to the breakfast room, he
sitantly peeking inside to ensure Father was not present.

  To my astonishment, not only was he in the room, but he was sitting beside my mother. Their low voices and bent heads indicated the severity of the conversation. Hiding the book within the folds of my gown, I walked through the door.

  The room went still. Mother’s eye caught mine and she glanced at Father before straightening in her chair. I chose a seat across from her and sat down, shoving the book underneath my leg.

  “Elspeth, you are awake.”

  I reached for the teapot and poured myself a cup, adding cream and stirring in one sugar. “Good Morning, Mother. Father.”

  He grunted.

  I could not stand to walk to the sideboard and fill a plate without revealing the book, and it was imperative I keep the book between my mother and me. It was not likely Father would disapprove entirely, but given his reaction the last time I presented a book to my mother in his presence, I was cautious. I had tried to convince her to read Mary Wollstonecraft’s Vindication of the Rights of Woman.

  It had not gone over well.

  “Do we have any engagements today?”

  “A dinner and musicale at the Hurst’s home,” Mother said.

  My spirits soared. “Is that so? How lovely!”

  Father stood. “I shall be back by this evening.”

  Mother gave him a firm look, their eyes locked in silent communication. He nodded once, imperceptibly, and then was gone.

  What on earth was that about?

  “We shall go to the modiste today,” Mother said, buttering her muffin. “You need more gowns.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  I was so glad to be going to Freya’s home that evening. Since Father had demanded I ask permission before leaving the house during the day, I had hardly seen Freya or Rosalynn, except for the balls and dinners we were all invited to. Which, luckily, was a good number of them.

  I sipped my tea, determining the best way to explain how I got my hands on The Green Door when Mother stood to leave.

  “Wait,” I said. She turned toward me and I gulped, my hand fishing within my skirts for the book. “I thought you might want to read this. I borrowed it from a friend.”