Sweet Bargain (13 page)

"I meant to release ... I can't," he said. "One more."

She shook her head. She could not think why she should protest. There was some reason. There were voices somewhere. They were not, after all, alone in the woods but in the midst of—

He kissed her again, offering her a taste of desire so rich and elusive that she must taste more. As fiery and sweet as the confiscated brandy she and Tom had once drunk. She was drowning in it like a summer bee drowning in a single drop of nectar.

Then a voice intruded.

"Bel Shaw, you can't, you can't," said the voice, shrill and plaintive.

Bel shivered and twisted desperately. She was kissing Haverly in the squire's garden and they'd been discovered. He released her mouth, but his arms stilled her struggles with an unexpected strength.

"Don't," he whispered on a ragged breath.

She steadied herself and turned to the voice. Ellen, Louisa, Fanny, and Darlington stood staring, their faces as cold and white as statuary in the darkness. It was not dark enough, Bel knew, to hide Haverly's hold on her.

"So much for your propriety, Bel," said Darlington. "You were too good for a mere squire, but willing enough for a belted earl, I see."

"She can't have him, too," Ellen complained. "She's always had everything."

"Hush, Ellen," said Fanny. "What do you have to say to this folly, Bel?"

She saw them as she had seen them earlier, spiteful and triumphant in her fall, and knew it would be pointless to defend herself.

"Nothing," she said.

"Well, you can't expect
us
to say nothing," said Louisa. "You can't embarrass everyone and expect us to say nothing."

"But there is nothing to say," came the earl's voice, low but reasonably steady. "We are betrothed."

Chapter 13

LOUISA GASPED, ELLEN wailed, Darlington muttered something under his breath, and Fanny looked down her nose. But Nick concentrated on the slight shiver of the girl in his arms, and tightened his hold.

It was madness to make a public claim to Bel Shaw, one she herself would soon deny or her parents disallow. But her kiss had stirred him to madness. His generous intention of releasing her from their bargain had dissolved in the sweetness of her response. Even now his heart beat wildly, and he ached to press his body to hers.

He stared at the shocked faces across from him. How much did they guess? Ellen and Louisa looked genuinely perplexed, but Darlington and Fanny Shaw seemed to be measuring him for any weakness.

"I suppose congratulations are in order, Haverly," said Darlington. "Will you be making a general announcement?"

"Do," said Fanny. "There is nothing like an announcement of this kind to liven a ball."

"We had not thought to speak tonight," said Bel, and Nick felt a thrill that she had not denied his story.

"Why not speak tonight?" said Darlington. "The evening is perfect for it. The month of Hymen and Midsummer's Eve to boot."

He looked directly at Nick, as if daring him to refuse. Nick thought it would give him particular satisfaction to smash his fist into the other man's face.

"You
have
set a date?" said Fanny. "The sooner the better, I suppose."

"Fanny!" cried Louisa.

"Well, I simply mean that if they are going to have clandestine meetings and behave in such a way, they will get themselves and all the Shaws talked about."

"I have no objection to a public announcement," said Nick. He ignored a faint "Oh" from Bel. "But I insist on an apology from Mr. Darlington first—for implying there was any impropriety in Miss Shaw's behavior."

"An apology from
me
when you ..." The big man took a step forward, then stopped abruptly, his fists raised and looking oddly spectral in white evening gloves. Nick steadied Bel and stepped away from her, facing the other man. He let his own hands hang loose and ready at his side as Farre had taught him.
"Let the other fellow make the first mistake,"
Farre had said.

Nick looked steadily at his opponent. The silence lengthened until the hum of insects droned in his ears.

Then Darlington lowered his hands. "Miss Shaw," he said, "I apologize for any offense I might have given."

"Apology accepted, Mr. Darlington," said Bel.

Nick nodded.

"Ladies," Darlington said, turning to the others, "may I escort you back to the hall?"

Nick followed at a distance with Bel. Except for one or two sniffles from Ellen the party was silent, and there was no chance for him to offer an apology of his own to the girl he had embroiled in scandal. He could feel the tightness of her body next to his. When they reached the entrance to the hall, Nick turned to her, hoping for a private word under cover of the music and talk, but she spoke first.

"Please," she said, "we must find my parents."

Then the music stopped, the dancers halted in confusion, and Nick heard Darlington speaking, coupling Nick's name with Bel's. He halted on the threshold, brought up short by the sea of strange faces, the wave of noise. At their worst his parents' parties had never drawn so many guests. For a blind moment he let the din wash over him. Then he thought of his uncle entering a room, and a trick came back to him. He imagined himself looking at the crowd through the wrong end of a spyglass, reducing the dancers to toy size. At the same moment he felt Bel's pull on his arm and moved with her toward Augustus and Serena Shaw.

The noise faded as he and Bel approached her parents, and Nick could sense the heads turning their way, the curious stares following them. His legs moved woodenly. He felt his body stiffen. He did not think he could turn his head, yet the Shaws were just steps away.

They looked uneasy, and their faces suggested an effort to mask surprise. Nick feared their scrutiny more than the gaze of the crowd. These were good people. They would see through the elegant disguise of evening clothes. They would see the man whose base desires were his inheritance as surely as his title. Face-to-face with them, he could think of nothing more than the words he had uttered in the garden.

"Mrs. Shaw; sir; we are betrothed," he said. Gasps and "Ohs" greeted his words, the girl at his side flinched, and silence followed.

The Shaws turned as one to regard their daughter with identical expressions of doubt and hurt.

"Mama, Papa, hug me," pleaded Bel, stepping forward.

At her words, her parents seemed to master themselves enough to give a semblance of smiling approval. Nick was hardly fooled by it. Serena Shaw moved forward to embrace her daughter, and Nick heard Bel whisper, "Forgive me." Mr. Shaw, too, folded his daughter in his arms, then turned to Nick as the ladies in the crowd, led by Mrs. Darlington, surrounded Bel and her mother.

"Young man," said Mr. Shaw, offering his hand, "we have much to discuss." The voice was friendly, but the eyes told Nick that he would be questioned as thoroughly as Augustus Shaw, magistrate, had ever examined the accused. Someone stuck a glass of champagne in his hand, and a few men gathered around him to offer their formulas of congratulation. There was a kind of constraint in these that he found awkward, but at least no one was suggesting he dance with his betrothed. He was grateful to the boy, Phillip, for a warm handshake, and a shy "Congratulations, sir."

It was impossible to reach Bel, to find out what she was saying or how she was answering inevitable questions. And for a while he found himself with no particular occupation other than listening to the talk eddying about him. The men made jokes about the advantages of title and about his stealing a march on everyone in the neighborhood. But as his ears became attuned to the jumble of talk, it was the feminine voices he listened for.

Though most of the ladies still crowded around Bel Shaw, he did not see her cousins in the group. Somewhere behind him he heard Mrs. Darlington say, "It is just as well. There was never enough income there for my Alan. There can be no want of money on the earl's side. He won't mind a dozen or more Shaws dipping into his pockets."

Then there was Ellen saying, "She can't have him. She can't have a title."

And Fanny replying, "Well, she won't. She'll be quite in disgrace. You, Ellen, will take her place at all the balls. He has compromised her thoroughly. You may be sure there have been other clandestine meetings, but you can't imagine he'll allow a marriage to take place."

Nick clenched his teeth. He discovered that his hand had tightened dangerously around the fragile stem of his glass. Bel Shaw had enemies she did not even recognize, and his words in the garden, spoken out of an ungovernable impulse to possess her, had unleashed their envious tongues. He stared over the heads of those nearest him at the women gathered around Bel, wondering who in that smiling group would be listening to Fanny and Ellen before the evening was over.

A little shift in the crowd allowed him to catch a brief glimpse of Bel's face, controlled, withdrawn, proud. He would marry her. He would offer his wealth and rank and name to protect her and make amends for the harm his desire had done to her reputation. The thought crossed his mind that she would rather have love than any of the other things he promised, but he dismissed it. He knew how little love there was in marriage, and tonight he had heard women frankly envy Bel her access to his wealth. It would be better to offer Bel Shaw an allowance she could spend on her brothers and sister than feelings she could not return. It would not be easy to insist on a marriage between them, but he meant to do it.

Lord Haverly had accompanied them to Shaw House, where they sat in the library waiting for Jenner to bring the tea tray. It was an end to the evening that Bel could never have foreseen.

Not a word had been spoken in the carriage, and only the merest civilities had been exchanged since. Her mother's calm temperament and her father's habit of suspending judgment until all the facts were known, qualities which she had long admired, were now an excruciating trial to endure. Her father apologized to the earl for the disorder of papers and volumes associated with his preparations for the Hilcombe trial. Her mother consulted Haverly about his preference for tea or coffee as an evening refreshment. There was more talk of the upcoming trial and her father's view of the chances for a needed postponement.

There had been no opportunity for her to speak with the earl about the surest way out of their engagement. He sat not six inches from her on a generous settee, and still there was no chance for talk. Though how she would have the courage to speak to him she did not know. Tonight she had kissed him back, kissed him not out of curiosity as she had once kissed Lyde, not out of mild excitement as she had first kissed Tom's friend James, but out of something she did not care to put a name to.

She did not blame him for claiming they were betrothed when the others had caught them in the garden, and she did not blame him for announcing their betrothal later to the whole party, though he had done it coldly and without any thought for the distress of her parents. But now it was time to free themselves, and he had not once looked at her. She could not imagine how they were going to do it without mentioning their bargain, and to mention their bargain meant her brothers were in danger after all. And if her brothers were publicly accused, her father's reputation would be hurt, and his power to defend the villagers diminished. She felt her stomach tighten in a sickening knot.

The tea tray arrived and they were soon balancing saucers and cups, her father stirring deliberately, as if in the motion he would find some explanation of the evening's events.

"Now then," he said at last, "perhaps you will tell us about this engagement." Her father lifted his gaze and looked first at the earl and then at her. She wished she had some cue from Haverly, some hint of what was in his mind. Her hand shook slightly, rattling her cup against the saucer.

"Perhaps, Lord Haverly, you and Bel have had more opportunities to meet and form an attachment than we had realized?" her mother suggested.

Beside her the earl shifted slightly and placed his teacup on a table.

"No ..." she began.

"No, ma'am," he said. "We have met just a few times. Miss Shaw has no trysts or rendezvous to blush for or explain."

"Then are you so very sure of your attachment?" her father asked. Bel saw the trap that had been set and held her breath. Haverly would see it and use it to free them.

"Sir, I wish to marry your daughter. I plan to remain in the neighborhood and to improve the house and property I purchased. I will make appropriate provisions for Miss Shaw and any ... heirs we may have, and her brothers and sister if necessary."

"No!" It was said before she had time to consider. What was he saying? She turned to stare at him, but he would not meet her gaze.

"Bel," said her father, "you don't wish your groom to be generous? Certainly, a careful papa would hold him to the bargain he offers."

At that Haverly did turn to her. Their eyes met, and his told her what he had told her in the beginning—their bargain was just between them. Her brothers would be safe as long as she chose to say nothing. She lowered her gaze from his.

"Is there something we should know?" her mother asked gently.

"Ma'am, sir," said the earl, facing her parents again, "I have compromised your daughter and have every intention of marrying her."

Her father stood so abruptly that tea sloshed from his cup. He set it down with a force that made the china ring. The earl rose more slowly, but he did not flinch, any more than he had when he faced Darlington in the garden.

"Was this intention to marry formed before or after you compromised my daughter, my lord?" demanded her father.

"Who is to say when such an intention is formed?" the earl replied.

"And if we should refuse the permission you had not the courtesy to seek?" said her father.

"I hope you will not refuse me, sir. I do not like the things that were said about Miss Shaw this evening."

"And I do not like the things you have said to me, young man. You do not even claim to love my daughter."