Just Wicked Enough Page 7

  She authorized a draft from the bank and handed it to Mr. Giddens. She also authorized an additional payment for him as an acknowledgment for his excellent record-keeping and because she didn’t want him absconding with the funds himself. If he continued to be honest, he would continue to be paid honestly.

  “Thank you, my lady. It has been a pleasure to meet with you and see to my lord’s business.”

  “I should like for us to meet monthly in the future.”

  “I hardly see a need. It is the British way to extend credit to the aristocracy until the end of the year.”

  “Yes, well, I’m American and I prefer to settle all debts monthly. Less chance of them getting out of hand that way.”

  “As you wish.” He bowed to her and to Falconridge. “Good day, my lady, my lord.”

  When the man had quit the room, she sighed, sat back, and looked at her husband. He didn’t look happy, but then she was beginning to think he never did.

  “Did you enjoy that?” he asked.

  “Not particularly. You’ve been in debt for some time.”

  “Unfortunately, that wasn’t all of it. The servants need to be paid.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  He nodded brusquely. “Tomorrow I would like to leave for my country estate so we—you—can set matters to rights there.”

  “All right.”

  He tilted his head slightly. “You acquiesce that easily?”

  “I’ve never been overly fond of London. I look forward to visiting your ancestral home. I would like to visit with my family this afternoon to let them know of our plans.”

  “If you’ve no objections, I won’t accompany you. I have some personal matters to attend to before we leave.”

  “Of course.”

  He lowered his gaze to the Aubusson rug beneath his feet, and she observed a muscle in his cheek tightening, imagined his jaw clenching to the point of discomfort. And she knew, knew, what it was he was struggling with.

  “How much do you require in funds to take care of these personal matters?” she asked.

  He lifted his gaze to her, and she thought she might weep at the despair she saw there, and she knew that it was this debt more than any other that had prompted him to ask for her hand.

  “A thousand pounds.”

  It was much less than she’d already approved for his other debts. Why was he so bothered by this? She considered asking, but instead, simply said, “I’ll write you a draft.”

  “With no questions asked?”

  “You said it was personal.”

  He turned away, but not before she caught relief washing over his face.

  “Thank you.” His voice sounded hoarse, strained. He cleared his throat, and she thought he might say something else, perhaps explain the need for his funds. Instead, he simply remained silent.

  As she set to writing out the draft, she wondered if a day would come when he would share with her the burdens he carried, and if his doing so would mean sharing with him the secrets she held.

  Chapter 6

  “I wanted to let you know that I’ve married.”

  The silver-haired woman sitting on the bed stared at Michael as though she was unable to comprehend the meaning of his announcement or didn’t quite trust him.

  He cleared his throat. “She’s an American. A very wealthy American. I think you’d approve of her. Her eyes are not a distinct color. They seem to change shade with her mood. I haven’t quite determined the pattern yet. Mostly because she’s been put out with me more than anything else. And under those circumstances they tend to appear green. Her hair, however, is quite the opposite when it comes to color. No question there. It is as bright a red as I have ever seen. I can’t say I particularly fancy the shade but—”

  “Who are you that I should care?”

  She studied him, bafflement clearly visible in her expression. She’d once been a beauty. Now, she was merely lost. He was incredibly weary of telling her who he was, only to be told his claim was impossible.

  She had no son.

  The truly sad thing was that she made the claim not because she had disinherited him, but because she truly had no memory of him. What sort of lunacy was it that caused a person to forget those she loved? The cruelest kind. Or perhaps, as he often feared, he was easily forgettable, because she’d never truly loved him.

  “No one of any importance,” he finally murmured.

  “Then why are you here?”

  He shook his head sadly. “I’m not certain. It seemed the sort of news one would share with family, and as I have no…family…I thought to share it with you. Are they treating you well here?”

  She shrugged, her gaze beginning to lose its focus. “Why hasn’t Falconridge come for me?”

  Because he’s been dead for more than twenty years.

  “He doesn’t usually hunt with Albert this long,” she continued.

  Prince Albert, too, has been long gone.

  “Who are you again?” she asked.

  “Michael.”

  “Lovely name.”

  She began to study her wrinkled hands, and Michael wondered if they frightened her. He hated that sometimes she became so frightened and nothing he did made her feel safe.

  He unfolded his body from the wooden hard-backed chair. “I must go now.”

  “You mustn’t let my husband catch you here. He gets terribly jealous.”

  “Good-bye, my lady.”

  He never knew what was more difficult, the arriving or the departing. He walked from the room, no longer hesitating while the attendant locked the door. The doctor was waiting for him.

  “Must you lock her in?” Michael asked.

  “As you know, my lord, she tends to wander, with no rhyme or reason, no obvious destination in mind. Locking her in is for her own good,” Dr. Kent said. “She’s not bothered by it, I assure you.”

  “How can you know what she is bothered by?”

  “There are no signs she’s bothered. She doesn’t get agitated. She seems quite content.”

  “How can she be content when she cannot remember?”

  “The mind is a strange thing, my lord. We’ve admitted a new Duke of Wellington. Why does this man honestly believe he is Wellington? And he is content to be so.”

  “Until you cure him.”

  Kent nodded. “We cured a Napoleon last week.”

  “Why would any respectable Englishman have delusions of being Napoleon?”

  “As I said, my lord, the mind is baffling. If I may have a word—”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “In my office.”

  “I have paid all I owe.” He’d been both astounded and grateful when Kate had approved the funds without requiring an explanation for their need.

  “Yes, my lord, but as you know asylums exist for those who can be cured. Generally our residents stay no more than a year. If they can’t be cured, other arrangements must be made.”

  “Yes, I’m well aware of that. I’m working on other arrangements. I need a bit more time.”

  “I’m sorry, my lord, but so many need help, and most of those can be cured, if we can only have them with us for a short while. Your mother’s dementia shows no signs of improving. To continue to house someone who is incurable…it’s simply not fair to those who could be cured.”

  Michael gritted his teeth. “I beg of you. I will pay three times what you are asking.”

  Dr. Kent smiled. “I suppose we could see our way clear to keep her for another year.”

  Michael nodded. He could probably purchase the whole damned place, but he didn’t want her here. He had other plans. He only needed a bit of time to bring them to fruition. Although considering how his plans to acquire funds had gone, he could only hope these would go much more smoothly.

  “So explain to me how the mistress business works.”

  Kate had found her brother in the library. It was the first room she’d gone to. Someone in her family, usually her father,
could always be found in the library.

  Jeremy, lounging in a chair near the window, closed The Guidebook of London, and stared at her. Like her, he was fascinated by details and never undertook any venture without careful planning—even touring a city he was visiting.

  “Pardon?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

  Kate sat in the chair opposite him, wishing she had the option of lounging, but the bustle on her dress prohibited such casual posture. “Falconridge had a mistress, so I’m trying to understand how this mistress business works. He purchased an inordinate number of trinkets for her. Would the amount indicate the depth of his affection for her?”

  “Could mean any number of things.”

  “Such as?”

  He sighed, reached for his cigarette case on the nearby table, and proceeded to light a cigarette.

  “Mother doesn’t like for you to smoke in the house.”

  “Good thing she’s not here, then, isn’t it?”

  “Where is she?”

  He shrugged. “She wanted to go out for a ride in the carriage so Father took her. Did you really want her here to ask how your marriage was going?”

  “I suppose not and don’t think for a moment that you’ve distracted me from seeking an answer to my question.”

  He inhaled on his cigarette and blew the smoke out in a way that created little rings. “I suppose he could have held affection for her.”

  “He says he didn’t. He said it was just a business arrangement.”

  “He discussed his mistress with you?”

  “I spent more than three hours going over his expenditures this morning and seeing to his debts. I questioned the purchasing of all the trinkets.”

  “If it was just business, then they were probably no more than payment.”

  “He leased a house for three years and had additional servants”—the expenses for which had ceased “weeks ago”—“would they have been for her do you think?” The timing fit.

  “I have no way of knowing. Ask him.”

  Only she wasn’t as comfortable with Falconridge, couldn’t bring herself to ask him about the intimate details of the life he’d shared with his mistress. “Do men, as a habit, provide the lodgings for their mistresses?”

  “Kate—”

  “Jeremy, please. It’s a simple enough question.”

  He looked none too pleased, but he did answer. “Generally, yes. You don’t want to have to go searching for her when you have a need.”

  “I see.” She worried her lower lip. “So a mistress is a paid companion?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

  “So he might not have had affection for her?”

  “You’re not jealous of a mistress, are you?”

  “Should I be?”

  “No.”

  “Do you have a mistress?”

  “I can’t believe you’re asking me this.” He took a long drag on his cigarette.

  “I thought I smelled something delicious in here,” Jenny said, strolling in through the open door, interrupting what Kate thought could have turned into a very interesting conversation. Jenny snatched the cigarette from Jeremy—who knew better than to object—and sat in a nearby chair, taking a puff. “Kate, my dear sister, why aren’t you spending the day with that incredibly handsome husband of yours?”

  “He had some personal matters to attend to, so I wanted to come by to let everyone know we’re leaving for the country tomorrow.”

  “Oh, the ancestral estate. I wonder what it’s like.”

  “If it’s like other ancestral estates, it won’t be very modern. I’ve heard of some that are still lit with candles.”

  “You’ll have enough money to change all that,” Jenny said.

  “I suppose. The London residence needs some upkeep as well.”

  “That’s what you must expect when you marry an impoverished lord.”

  “Do you believe everyone has only one true love?” Kate asked, fearing she might never feel for Falconridge what she’d felt for Wesley. He wasn’t nearly as charming or fun. But then, in all fairness, along with his title, he’d no doubt inherited an inordinate amount of responsibilities, the likes of which would never be passed on to Wesley. Younger sons had more freedom to play than their older brother. It certainly made them a good deal more entertaining.

  “Of course not. Love is infinite. You love Mother, Father, Jeremy, and me, and I daresay if you had other siblings, you’d love them as well.”

  “Don’t you think you’re being a bit presumptuous to assume Kate loves you?” Jeremy asked.

  Jenny handed the cigarette back to him and smiled mischievously. “Don’t you have something important to do? Like take a tour of an old museum or something?”

  “Quite right.” He stood. “I’m intrigued by the Chamber of Horrors at Madam Tussaud’s. From what I understand the exhibits display such gruesome images that it’s quite horrifying. Naturally, women are too delicate to be admitted into that particular room.”

  “Oh, rubbish,” Kate said, annoyed that he seemed quite gleeful over his perceived superiority—which was no doubt his intent. To annoy her. She suspected he’d be a challenge to his future wife, teasing her unmercifully. “I despise that women are viewed as having such weak constitutions.”

  “Care to accompany me and put yours to the test?”

  “I have a household to see after. I can’t go gallivanting around London.”

  “Pity. Tell Mother not to expect me until dawn.”

  “The museum closes long before that,” Jenny said.

  Jeremy winked and grinned. “I’ll find other entertainments.”

  He strode from the room with the confidence of a man who could do anything he damned well pleased.

  “Sometimes I wish I’d been born a man,” Kate said, trying not to let the familiar resentment build within her. She’d never envied Jenny her beauty, but she’d always envied Jeremy his freedoms. “I could have taken over managing Father’s bank. I think I would have enjoyed that.”

  “I don’t understand you, Kate,” Jenny said. “I can think of nothing more boring than sitting in an office all day, studying numbers.”

  “I find it boring sitting in a room all day being measured for gowns. My God, Jenny, we spent more than twenty thousand dollars on our wardrobe for the year when we were in Paris. That’s an embarrassment of excess.”

  “You’ve been married less than twenty-four hours and already you’re talking like a miser. What is the point in having money if one doesn’t spend it? Besides, I believe we have an obligation to spend it, to spread it around.”

  Perhaps it was looking over the list of all the baubles and trinkets Falconridge had purchased that had Kate questioning her own spending habits.

  Jenny got up, grabbed Kate’s arm, and tugged on her. “Come along. You’re far too melancholy, and it’s beginning to rub off on me. Let’s join Jeremy on his outing.”

  “I’m no longer carefree, to do as I please. I need to hire some additional staff before we leave.” She planned to go to the Metropolitan Association for Befriending Young Servants. It had several branch offices and had established quite a reputation for successfully placing young ladies.

  Jenny got a wicked gleam in her eye. “Are you in need of any footmen?”

  Rolling her eyes, Kate smiled at Jenny’s mischievousness. “I plan to hire several in fact. Presently we have only one.”

  “Lovely. Then I think I’ll spend the afternoon with you instead. I like nothing better than having an excuse to study the turn of a young man’s calf.”

  Footmen were generally chosen based on how good they looked in livery. A well-turned calf gave them a definite advantage.

  “You’d rather ogle young men than gory figurines?” Kate teased.

  “Without question. I think you should go with tall, dark, and handsome for your servants. And I’ll enjoy helping you select them.”

  “Tall footmen can demand a higher salary.”

  “Wh
ich you can well afford. Indulge yourself. I certainly plan to when I have my own household.”

  “Perhaps I will, although I was thinking gentlemen of a fairer persuasion. My husband satisfies the tall, dark, and handsome needs of our household.”

  “The dangerous part as well, I suspect.” Jenny leaned forward. “I’d promised myself I wouldn’t ask, but the curiosity is killing me. Did Falconridge make you happy last night?”

  Kate felt the heat burning her cheeks and feared they might actually scorch.

  “That good, hey?” Jenny asked, smiling.

  Kate swallowed hard. She didn’t want to discuss last night with Jenny, didn’t want to explain her decision to delay being bedded. “This is hardly a topic for discussion, but I will say I was very pleased with last night’s outcome. However, don’t ask for particulars as I won’t share them.”

  “You’re absolutely no fun at all. Still, I knew he’d be scrumptious in bed.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “He just has that look about him, the look of a man who knows his way very well around a bedchamber.”

  Kate wasn’t at all pleased with the image that statement provoked or the spark of jealousy it created. She shot to her feet. “I really need to see about getting the servants hired.”

  “Give me a moment to change?”

  “A moment? It takes you at least an hour.”

  “Then join me upstairs and I’ll tell you all about the costume ball I’m planning.”

  “When is this?” Kate asked, following her out of the library.

  “In two weeks. You will come back for it, won’t you?”