The Bartered Virgin (7 page)

The neutral Guggenheims sat closest to Winn. Mrs. Guggenheim acknowledged her gaze with a dismissive nod and an attempt at a smile which Winn thought might have better dressed a corpse. Mr. G. sat oblivious, guzzling glasses of champagne and chomping on huge chunks of roast beef.

“Them,” she whispered and, to her satisfaction, David’s eyes glinted with the same kind of mischief she’d seen last night and this afternoon.

“Very well, my dear. One man who eats like a cart horse and one lady who looks like she romped in the laundry basket and doesn’t own a mirror.” Winn bit her tongue to keep from laughing out loud. She kept her gaze fixed on him as he rose from the table. At that moment, two waiters left their nearby tables in a race to remove his chair, much to the disdain of their abandoned patrons. They bowed while he adjusted the front button on his dinner jacket. He strolled past a row of tables where the creams of the clans had indeed gathered to dine. The gentlemen rose from their tables and bowed. The ladies hurried to their husbands’ sides to curtsey as David walked by. He ignored their efforts to appease his station and continued on to his destination, the Guggenheim table.

“Oh, Lord,” she whispered behind her menu. “He’s really going to do it.” She watched as he stopped to converse with Mr. Guggenheim who took the interruption of his dinner with amazing grace. He stood to greet David, offered his hand and snapped his fingers for the waiter.

“A chair for his lordship,” he ordered in a loud voice. When David declined the invitation, Benjamin nearly swatted the waiter as if he were a fly.

“Dammit, boy didn’t you hear him? Take that blasted chair away!”

Winn saw David roll his eyes and raise a brow in her direction. The two men engaged in polite conversation for a few moments before David bowed and turned back toward her. As he left, she saw Mr. Guggenheim reach into his dinner jacket and place David’s card into a small silver case, an act which signified David’s smooth transition into society.

As he returned to their table, Winn watched the same procession of royal attentiveness in reverse. The two waiters once again ignored their customers. They jostled each other in an awkward race to pull out David’s chair.

“They invited us to dine with them,” he said matter-of-factly.

Winn stared at him, utterly stunned. “My mother has been trying for a year to be invited to tea. Wait until she finds out we were invited to dinner! She’ll carry on for weeks.”

“You see, darling, social ruffians for not inviting your mother to tea. In fact, I despair the idea of people watching us masticate. How do you feel about a little more intimacy?”

“But what about supper?”

“I will have it brought up special.”

“But no one will see my gown,” she cried.

“No worse for you. You need to be seen in bright colors, Winn. Oriental reds, tropical yellows, passionate hues of purples and blues. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you so far, dear Winn, you are a bird-of-paradise, not a sparrow. These schoolroom frocks are beyond you. Now, let us be off. And don’t forget your, um,
shawl.
”

David rose to help Winnifred from her chair. The head waiter rushed to his side, a look of dismay evident across his wrinkled brow.

“M’lord?”

“Relax, man.
Coq au vin
for two, followed by cherries jubilee and several bottles of your finest champagne. But to my suite,” he added in a low voice.

The waiter bowed. “Right away, m’lord.”

“Don’t rush. Take your time.”

“’Scuse me, mister?”

David turned to see a balding man in a three-piece suit standing behind him. “Yes?”

“Sam Jones of the
Circular
. Mind if I have a short chin-wag?”

David regarded the man with a look of disgust. “I’m sure you may have whatever is on the menu as long as your pocketbook will accommodate it. Please excuse us.”

“Kin I ask, how long you’re gonna be in our fair city?”

“Is your head cold, man? You are in the presence of ladies.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jones paused to remove his straw boater. “Uh, is it true you’re here to marry the Percy heiress?”

“I’m sure my purpose here is none of your business. Move aside.”

The man blocked their path once again. “Aw, come on. Just a quotation or two.”

Winn nervously clutched her shawl and hugged the hidden book close to her. She tugged on his arm. “Better say something, David. He’ll not leave until you do.”

David turned to Winn. “He’ll leave at my insistence or I shall have him removed.”

Jones shoved him. “Hey, you threatenin’ me, mister?”

“It’s Lord Wolshingham and I warn you now that I am an excellent pugilist. Do not force me to take this altercation out of doors.”

The head waiter, alerted by his staff, swiftly appeared to intervene. “Mr. Jones, how many times have I told you not to bother the guests in the dining room. Now wait out in the hallway!” Two large Pinkerton detectives stood at the dining room entrance, ready for their signal.

Jones parked his boater on his head and threw David a warning. “This ain’t finished, toff!” He stalked out of the dining room.

“What an unpleasant sort of fellow! I do apologize, my dear.” He offered Winn his arm. “Let us be off.”

David escorted her out of the dining room and to the elevator. “Interesting invention, this elevating device. Sure to spread the gut of many a trim businessman. I hope you like a moderate amount of exercise. Knightsbriar has many floors and staircases. Ah, here we are. In you get.”

“David, that reporter. He’ll write down everything you said and print it in the newspaper,” she cautioned.

“I hope he doesn’t forget to report that he is an insufferable ignoramus who insults people with his very presence.”

“Winn!”

Winn turned to see Kitty Terwilligar and her family enter the hallway toward the dining room.

“Wait a moment, will you, David?”

“Dearest, I’ve had enough of New York society for one evening.”

“But Kitty is my best friend.”

“Very well, come up when you please.”

The attendant pulled the elevator door closed and David disappeared from her sight. Winn turned her attention to her friend. “Kitty! Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t have a chance to call you.”

“Humph! I should say you are, Winn Percy.” She lowered her voice. “You left me standing in the Grand Central Depot waiting for you. I had to give up after a while and go home. I was afraid I’d missed you.” Kitty craned her head over Winn’s shoulder. “Was that
him
?”

“Yes, that’s David.”

“Why, he’s a nifty-looking fellow! Can’t see why you’d want to pitch gravy like that. Of course you are the one with oodles of dough. And your dress!” Kitty clasped Winn’s hands and held her at arm’s length for inspection. “Positively darby! Not much of a floozy, though. How’s it going, anyway? Is he ready to give you the heave-ho?”

Winn stood wordless. David had put up with her nonsense and risked his life to save her from that tree. He was brave, honorable and devoted to his ancestral home. Suddenly the world around her seemed so narrow, her position in society so pointless. It was all a boring litany of cotillions and soirees, drives in Central Park on Sunday afternoons and Mother’s Thursday “in” days. If she stayed here and married a Morgan or an Astor, her life would continue to waste away. At least David saw potential in his investment and offered her equity in her own future. The power to restore Knightsbriar to its former glory lay in her hands. At that moment, Winn decided her own fate, or at least the fate of Knightsbriar.

“Winn, did you hear me?” Kitty interrupted her thoughts. “I said, aren’t you going in to dine? We were at Delmonico’s when the word came round that Lord Wolshingham was dining here. Mother niggled us right over. We wanted to get the best table, you know. There are at least five more carriages behind us,” she breathed excitedly.

Kitty’s attitude began to irritate Winn. Suddenly, she realized what David tried to illustrate to her in the dining room. These people weren’t the least bit interested in her gown, her hair or the Percys’ social position. They were curious gawkers, nosing into David’s life as if he were some P.T. Barnum attraction. How awful for him! No wonder he retreated to the privacy of his suite.

“I must go, Kit. I’ll call you later.”

She turned abruptly, leaving Kit to stare openmouthed after her. She stepped into the elevating device and instructed the attendant to take her to Lord Wolshingham’s suite. The door closed in the faces of several curious onlookers, including Sam Jones.

When they reached David’s floor, the attendant said, “End of the hall, ma’am. Number seven.”

Winn thanked the boy and tipped his open palm. “Have a nice evening, ma’am.” He had the cheek to wink at her as the door closed.

Winn looked down the expanse of the hall. Electric sconces glared at her. David stood silhouetted in the doorway, a silk dressing gown hung carelessly across the broad expanse of his shoulders. It was loosely belted at the waist and she could see he was shirtless.

She walked toward him, taking in his nakedness. Winn suddenly felt very warm and pressed her gloved hand against her cheek. A mass of dark, unruly hair covered his chest. The same hairs sprinkled his knees and muscled lower legs, which were uncovered as the gown only fell to midthigh.

He stepped aside to welcome her into his suite and closed the door behind her. The room was dimly lit with candles, despite being equipped with the most modern electric lighting. David took her shawl from her and unwrapped the book. He smiled and set it on the end of the massive four-poster bed.

“I’m saving this for dessert,” he said softly.

Winn didn’t quite understand what he meant as she specifically remembered he ordered cherries jubilee. Supper had arrived, she noted. A wheeled cart had been rolled to the center of the room. Two dining room chairs were situated at each end. The table was crammed with silver-topped tureens. A vase of fresh flowers decorated the white linen.

David went to the table and uncovered a dish. A steaming mix of aromas filled the air. “Our
coq au vin.
Please, dearest. Get comfortable while I pour the champagne.”

Winn removed her gloves and laid them on the bed.

“A good start,” he said, handing her a glass. “Now, for the second time tonight, a toast.”

Winn took the champagne from him. She wondered if he noticed how her fingers trembled. “I think I’ll let you make this one,” she said, a distinct dryness settling in her throat.

“What, my Winn speechless? Or is it my attire that discomforts you? You do want me to answer your questions, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“Good then.” He raised his glass to hers and regarded her over the rim. “To answers,” he said, his voice low and husky.

Winn wasn’t sure where the slight tremor in her hand had come from. She only knew David’s nearness, his lack of clothing and the wine—and now champagne—on her empty stomach were creating a heady mix of sensations. Still, she managed to answer his toast.

“To answers,” she replied in a shaky voice. She took a sip and set her glass down on the table. “Please, I must eat something.”

He leaned over her and whispered in her ear. “And you shall, darling, you shall.” He nuzzled her neck then. The shock of his lips against her bare skin sent shivers down to her toes.

“Cold? Here’s some hot supper for you. Eat your fill. You’ll need your energy.”

“What for?” she asked as he served her a generous portion of chicken and rice.

David grinned enigmatically. “For the night ahead.”

She looked at him sitting across from her, his eyes dancing with mischief and his smile teasing her with secrets. Suddenly there was something she had to know before they went any further. “David, if you suddenly had the money for Knightsbriar, would you still want to marry me?”

“What an odd question! And I must say, rather ill timed.” He picked up a fork and stabbed a piece of chicken, chewed, then dabbed his mouth with a linen napkin. Standing, he went over to a rolltop desk and opened one of the drawers. He drew out a small silver flask, poured a generous portion of amber liquid into a glass and brought it back to the table.

For a moment Winn thought he wasn’t going to answer her question. He stood beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Winnifred, look at me.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide with curiosity.

“If for no other reason than to have you by my side, deviling me, reducing me to tears of laughter, watching you hang out of trees and choke on scraggy cigarettes then, yes, I’d still want to marry you.”

“But you don’t love me,” she began.

He bent down and silenced her with a kiss. She felt him start to pull away from her so she reached up and put her arms around his shoulders. She wanted to keep him there, to keep kissing her, to make the tingles and shivers last forever, to keep the delicious fire burning in the nether regions of her body. At last, he broke apart from her.

“Listen to me, Winn.” She noted David was breathless and almost impatient as he retreated to the other side of the table. “I’m a normal, red-blooded, experienced Englishman and you’re a very beautiful, untouched young woman. Regardless of what happens here tonight, I won’t break your heart. You have my word on it.”

“Oh.” She sighed almost silently.

“I’ve followed all the rules, until now. I solicited your father for your hand, we agreed on a dowry. The rest is mere formality. Except you’re the most informal girl I’ve ever met. Under the circumstances, I honestly believe we’ll get along. I’ll not treat you harshly. You may have as much freedom as you desire. I hope that you will enjoy living in England. At least, I’d like you to give it a try.”

Winn regarded him across the table. There was sincerity in his voice, honesty in his words. She knew girls of her own circle who had done worse with sons of the most prominent families in New York. Perhaps she would try it, after all.

“David,” she gazed at him, his masculine figure outlined by the shadows of dancing candlelight. “I don’t want to be an ignorant girl any longer. I want—” She stopped and licked her lips, unsure of how to say what her body was sure it wanted. “I want you to make me a woman.”