Devil's Bargain (8 page)

It was a delicate juncture. This night’s discussion could very well make or break his little Lynette. He had tread too harshly with Audra, his first, and had lost her completely. Perversely, she was the one who had been most successful, marrying the greatest catch of all his girls, and would soon embark upon her glorious widowhood.

Whenever he faced one of these nights, he remembered that time with Audra. He had spoken too plainly, his words too harsh, and she had turned cold.

He did not want that for Lynette.

Taking a step into her bedroom, he decided on a strategy. He had to start with the obvious. “How do you feel?” he asked, striving to keep his voice casual.

She kept her gaze firmly fixed out the window, but he noticed that she hadn’t jumped when he spoke. She had known he was there.

He stepped farther into the room. “Lynette?” He infused a note of command into his voice. He had to keep her speaking to him. It would be disastrous for them both if she closed down, shutting herself away from everyone and everything. “How do you feel?” he repeated.

“Angry. Very, very, very angry. Angry as I have not been since my father first beat me. Angry as I have not been since my mother stood by and did nothing.” She turned, allowing her glittering eyes to focus on him. “Angry as I have not been since you first walked unannounced and unwanted into my room.”

He absorbed her emotion quietly, patiently, giving no clue as to the pain her words gave him. That she
should have suffered so twisted in his gut. But it was necessary. He took another step forward, finally settling down on her bed near her.

“That is understandable,” he said softly. “You were used abominably.”

She did not remove her gaze from his face. She stayed immobile, her soft brown eyes hard and accusing. “You can say that, even though you ordered it?”

“Yes.” He took a deep breath. He had married off three girls before he realized how important his next words were. It took his fourth before he’d understood that honesty was absolutely crucial at this time. “It was necessary.”

“To verify my virginity to my husband.” Her tone was steeped in bitterness.

“It was necessary so that you understand you are being sold. In marriage. To the highest bidder. He is interested in your body, first and foremost. And in your mind only in that you can conceive of clever ways to amuse and satisfy him.”

She was silent, as he knew she would be. No histrionics for his little Lynette. She was made of sterner stuff. She would absorb what he told her, understand it, and then use it as a weapon against all who dared harm her.

He quite admired that in her.

“I could have been a governess.”

“No longer.” Her association with him had firmly closed off that avenue.

She looked away, her gaze drifting back out the window. “No,” she echoed softly. “No longer.”

They sat together in silence. Neither moving. Neither speaking. Then she had another question. Without shifting her gaze, she spoke, and for a moment he
wondered if he had imagined her words. But he knew he had not, for who could have imagined that she would ask so perceptive, so important a question?

“Did all your other girls go through this?”

He swallowed. “Yes. Though Dr. Smythe has been available only for the last four.”

“And how did they react?”

“They all wanted to quit this house and never see it or me again.” Sadness welled up in him at the memories, but if he could not allow her to hide from the truth, neither would he.

“But they were trapped here,” she said, her voice dull.

He shook his head, vehement in his denial. “No. They could have all left, as you can. And I will lie about your experiences here if that will help protect your reputation.”

She turned to look at him more closely, and he could see he had startled her.

“Did you think I chained them here? Locked them in? Fed them bread and water until they succumbed?”

“You told me you would chase me. Force me to keep my commitments to you and my bridegroom.”

He nodded. “I have to keep the girls here through the beginning. That usually means threats, but it is a lie. My outlay so far has been minimal.” He took a deep breath. In truth, he had already committed a great deal of his funds to this enterprise; it would be a heavy setback if Lynette changed her mind. “Try to understand. Most of my girls come here unwillingly, brought by a parent or guardian. But I never keep them, never even begin unless I think it a good choice. A choice they can understand.”

“That they are selling themselves?”

He nodded. “Because in the end they will have their freedom. A wealthy widowhood is worth a great deal of present unhappiness.” He leaned forward. “What are your other options, Lynette? You said yourself you would not find joy in your old life.”

“I cannot go back now. I have been too compromised.”

He nodded. That was likely true. “But there are other options. A convent. General labor. Do you want that kind of life?”

She shook her head. No, she was not suited to be a laborer, even if the lower classes accepted her. As for a convent, she had discarded that thought long ago. Probably because she had too much fire in her to make a cloistered life appealing.

“So they all stayed?” she pressed. “Even after the surgeon?”

“They all chose to stay. I would not have kept them otherwise.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I know you will not believe me, Lynette, but I have never, ever kept a girl against her will. Not beyond the first few days. All of them chose this path. And I do everything I can to make it a smart one.”

She was watching him, silently evaluating his words, and he squirmed beneath her regard.

“The surgeon is deliberately cold,” he said. “Impersonal. Because nothing in this marriage business is personal. It is important that you understand that from the beginning. Otherwise, you will never be content in your marriage.”

She released a most inelegant snort. “Can you imagine anything more personal than having a man’s hands—having anyone’s hands—in the places where he put them today?”

He looked away. No, he could not. But she would have to come to accept that much and more from her husband. And for many years to come.

“Lynette…” he began.

“Tell me about the other girls.” Her voice was flat. Implacable. And he chose to allow it because, more than anything else, she needed to re-establish her sense of control over her life. “Tell me about their reactions.”

“Audra cursed and threw things, but when her temper cooled we talked. Eventually she agreed to stay. She was illegitimate, you understand. She had spent her childhood being shunted aside, hidden away. She wanted a life of wealth no matter the cost.”

He took a deep breath, searching Lynette’s face for a reaction, an emotion. Anything that would give him a clue as to how to proceed. But she gave nothing away, and in the end he continued, “Suzanne cried. For two days and three nights. She was from a poor family—very, very poor. But she had an ethereal beauty that stole one’s breath away, and her parents wanted to make the most of that.” He glanced away, remembering the hurt reflected in Suzanne’s crystal-blue eyes. “Her inspection was performed by a woman, a midwife who has since left London. But even with a woman, Suzanne felt hideously betrayed.” He sighed. “She understood, I think, better than any of us what was happening. She was mourning the loss of her dreams. Then, two days later, she said she was ready. Just like that. And she was.” He glanced back at Lynette. “Her husband is bedridden now. He probably will not last another winter.”

He leaned forward, trying to impress upon Lynette his point. “This is the game we are playing. You are
selling your body to an old man. In return, you will receive a wealthy old age. You’ll be rich enough to sponsor your sister. To buy your brother’s commission. You’ll be rich enough to travel, to take lovers, to do whatever you wish.”

Only by the merest fraction of an inch did she nod. Finally she whispered, “The other girls…they understood this? Agreed with it?”

“Each had her own particular combination of tears and anger, but eventually she began to see that it was her choice. Not her only choice, you understand, merely the best of a bad lot.” He paused, seeing her study him even as he watched her. “You are the only one who has asked me such questions, though. Only you have admitted to your feelings and then gone about dispassionately assessing your situation.” Again he paused, trying by his sight alone to comprehend her thoughts. “I knew you were smart from the beginning. But this…” He gestured weakly in her direction. “This is unusual.”

“I learned early that emotions did not work with my father. Neither tears nor histrionics nor any type of pleading would ever change his mind. Only logic had the barest chance.”

He nodded in understanding. But then he pressed further. Her father was such a significant figure in her life; he needed to know more. “Your father did not change his mind often, did he?”

“Do you? Does any man?”

He paused, then eventually sighed. “No,” he admitted. “Or rather, none that you are likely to encounter. And certainly none who will marry you.”

She looked away, and for a moment he was glad
she did. He could not bear the flash of pain that flared in her eyes.

“The man who will be…selected for me…” She paused, as if searching for words.

“Yes?” he prompted. Then, when she looked uncertain, he sought to reassure her. “Remember, I promised to answer any of your questions honestly.”

She nodded. “The man whom I am to marry. He will likely have very specific desires of his wife. Perhaps even peculiar tastes?”

Adrian hesitated. She had gathered a great deal from her one experience. But he worried about telling her too much too soon. It was not an easy thing for anyone to stomach, much less a parson’s daughter having just experienced the most humiliating event of her young life.

“You promised,” she whispered. “I want to know the truth.”

Taking a deep breath, he finally gave in. “Yes. Your bridegroom will likely know exactly what he wants, and occasionally those tastes are rather particular. But rest assured, I will make the best choice for you. I will weigh the assets of your suitors most specifically—”

“No.”

He frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“You will not decide this for me. I will decide.”

He pulled back. Of all things, this he could not give her. But she was relentless.

She surged to her feet, towering over him as he sat on her soft bed. “I will do this,” she repeated, her voice ringing with certainty. “I will sell myself for a title and for the money it will bring. So my mother can have her own home, away from men. So my sister will
not have to suffer this same fate.” She blinked back her tears. “And so my brother can buy his commission.” To her credit, her voice did not even waver, but still she had to stop, taking a breath before she continued in a softer voice. “I chose this. I contacted you. So I will be the one to choose between my suitors.”

He sighed. He should have known this was coming. He should have seen that she would insist upon it now. In truth, all his other girls had asked for it. But he had easily swayed them. Their resolve had crumpled under his steady regard, and eventually he had been the one to decide.

He did not think it would be so easy with Lynette.

“There is a great deal to consider,” he began slowly. “The marriage offer alone will likely contain a hundred or more difficult discussion points.”

“I believe I have shown my arithmetic to be adequate to the task.”

He shifted uneasily on the bed, but he did not stand. He did not want to take away her feeling of command. “Accounting and negotiating are two entirely different things,” he responded.

“True.” She paced away from him. “And you will perform all negotiations. But in the end I will choose my husband.” She spun back toward him. “If we cannot agree on this, then I shall leave today. Now. No matter what the cost.”

He looked at her. She meant what she said. He could see it in the firm jut of her chin, her stiffly erect spine, and most especially in the directness of her gaze. Still, he tried to make her understand. The situation was too complicated.

“You must allow me to eliminate unsuitable gentlemen,” he stressed.

If he thought to distract her with that, he was sadly mistaken. She shook her head. “I will choose.”

This time he straightened, coming off the bed to eye her from his superior height. “The choices are too great, the histories of each man too detailed.” He paused, making sure she understood his next statement. “And many have secrets…preferences…which I will not tell you.” She had to understand that he was unshakable on this point. She had to trust him if he told her someone was unsuitable.

“You must rely on me,” he urged. “I swear I will discuss it with you. But there are things I cannot reveal to you, things I have sworn to them—the prospective grooms—not to tell.” He paused. “All my girls have been happy with my choices.” It was a cheap card to play, and he regretted using it. He did not like bringing his other charges into discussions with Lynette. Among all of them, she was unique. What they enjoyed, how they reacted, meant less than nothing to her situation. But apparently it worked, because she hesitated and he was able to press the point.

“That is why you came to me,” he coaxed softly. “Because I know things you do not.” Unable to resist, he reached out, stroking her arm. “Trust me.”

When she did not react, he let his hand slip away. He would have paced then, moving to ease some of the anxiety that knotted in his gut. But he did not. She looked at him, staring into his eyes with an unnaturally calm, almost cold regard. He had the oddest feeling he was being weighed, his honesty and abilities measured as surely as Lynette had been measured, inspected, and categorized this afternoon.

It took a long while for her to decide. But then, finally, she inclined her head as regally as a queen.

“You may narrow the list to five.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, shocked to realize how anxious he had been for her answer. “Then we are agreed,” he said, smiling as he took a step toward the door.