thing.”
“And what is that?”
“I won’t be—do nothin’ bad wit’ ya!” She blurted it out, her voice belligerent, her eyes gleaming with golden challenge.
His eyes widened slightly, and he stared at her for a moment. A muscle at the corner of his mouth twitched. He looked to be on the verge of laughing, which she sensed was a rare thing for him. Contrarily, the knowledge that he found her assertion amusing nettled her. It was humbling to discover that he thought her so lacking in attraction.
“My dear girl, you may put aside any fears that you may be harboring. I assure you, I have absolutely no designs on your person. You are as safe with me as you would be with your own father or brother. If you have either.”
“I ain’t got no family a-tall.” Her answer was muttered. The sudden shame that rose in her at the admission surprised her. Being the daughter of a woman who had had to whore for a living had never bothered Jewel particularly before. But now, in the face of this man, it did.
“You are more fortunate than I then,” he responded dryly, lifting an eyebrow at her. “Well, do we have a bargain or don’t we?”
Jewel nodded. “We got a deal.”
He smiled then, a faint curving of his lips. “Very wise of you. You’ve given up little to gain much. I will have Mrs. Masters prepare a room for you. After she shows you to it, a bath will be sent up to you. Oblige me by making full use of it. Tomorrow I travel to the country. I think the best thing will be for you to accompany me. Your education will prosper better away from town where there are fewer eyes to see and tongues to wag. I leave at first light, so be ready. One of the maids will wake you in time.”
He crossed to the side of the room and tugged on a tasseled rope while Jewel watched him with some trepidation. She would not have been at all surprised to see little horned gremlins descend out of the ceiling at his signal. It was somehow in keeping with her notion that she had just sold her soul to the devil.
“Your name, what was it again?” He was looking at her with the merest suggestion of a frown.
“Jewel. Jewel Combs.”
“My lord,” he prompted.
“My lord,” she echoed, feeling foolish, and he nodded.
“Jewel Stratham, don’t you mean, since you have married my cousin Stratham?”
Jewel was startled to realize that she hadn’t even thought about that. But, yes, she realized now, her name—and so much else—had been changed forever. “Jewel Stratham, then. My lord.”
He nodded again, showing approval that she had remembered the correct way to address him.
“Jewel is not, I think, fitting for the role of my cousin’s relic. It reminds one—quite irresistibly!—of the stratum which you will no longer occupy. I think you shall be called Julia. Similar enough so that you should have no problems answering to it, but still the name of a lady.”
“But—” Jewel started to protest this disposal of her name as if it were no more than a dirty rag, but caught his eye in time to remember her promise to obey him in all things. She looked around her again at the warmth and luxury of the room, thought of the sumptuous dinner that was certain to be provided for her shortly, and bit her tongue. He could call her Henry the Eighth if he wanted, if she could eat good.
“Are we agreed? Jewel Combs is now Mrs. Julia Stratham?” His eyes were on her, measuring her compliance. Jewel nodded.
“Ayeh. My lord,” she added as those eyebrows went up. He smiled at her.
“I can see that you’re a clever girl, Julia. We should get on very well. Ah, yes, Mrs. Masters.” He turned his attention to the plump middle aged lady who presented herself after a brief knock in the doorway. “This is Mr. Timothy’s widow. She requires a room—the gold one, I think—a bath, and a meal. Also, some nightclothes, and, uh, some suitable garments for travel on the morrow. Oh, and you may address her as Miss Julia. She is to be quite one
“And what is that?”
“I won’t be—do nothin’ bad wit’ ya!” She blurted it out, her voice belligerent, her eyes gleaming with golden challenge.
His eyes widened slightly, and he stared at her for a moment. A muscle at the corner of his mouth twitched. He looked to be on the verge of laughing, which she sensed was a rare thing for him. Contrarily, the knowledge that he found her assertion amusing nettled her. It was humbling to discover that he thought her so lacking in attraction.
“My dear girl, you may put aside any fears that you may be harboring. I assure you, I have absolutely no designs on your person. You are as safe with me as you would be with your own father or brother. If you have either.”
“I ain’t got no family a-tall.” Her answer was muttered. The sudden shame that rose in her at the admission surprised her. Being the daughter of a woman who had had to whore for a living had never bothered Jewel particularly before. But now, in the face of this man, it did.
“You are more fortunate than I then,” he responded dryly, lifting an eyebrow at her. “Well, do we have a bargain or don’t we?”
Jewel nodded. “We got a deal.”
He smiled then, a faint curving of his lips. “Very wise of you. You’ve given up little to gain much. I will have Mrs. Masters prepare a room for you. After she shows you to it, a bath will be sent up to you. Oblige me by making full use of it. Tomorrow I travel to the country. I think the best thing will be for you to accompany me. Your education will prosper better away from town where there are fewer eyes to see and tongues to wag. I leave at first light, so be ready. One of the maids will wake you in time.”
He crossed to the side of the room and tugged on a tasseled rope while Jewel watched him with some trepidation. She would not have been at all surprised to see little horned gremlins descend out of the ceiling at his signal. It was somehow in keeping with her notion that she had just sold her soul to the devil.
“Your name, what was it again?” He was looking at her with the merest suggestion of a frown.
“Jewel. Jewel Combs.”
“My lord,” he prompted.
“My lord,” she echoed, feeling foolish, and he nodded.
“Jewel Stratham, don’t you mean, since you have married my cousin Stratham?”
Jewel was startled to realize that she hadn’t even thought about that. But, yes, she realized now, her name—and so much else—had been changed forever. “Jewel Stratham, then. My lord.”
He nodded again, showing approval that she had remembered the correct way to address him.
“Jewel is not, I think, fitting for the role of my cousin’s relic. It reminds one—quite irresistibly!—of the stratum which you will no longer occupy. I think you shall be called Julia. Similar enough so that you should have no problems answering to it, but still the name of a lady.”
“But—” Jewel started to protest this disposal of her name as if it were no more than a dirty rag, but caught his eye in time to remember her promise to obey him in all things. She looked around her again at the warmth and luxury of the room, thought of the sumptuous dinner that was certain to be provided for her shortly, and bit her tongue. He could call her Henry the Eighth if he wanted, if she could eat good.
“Are we agreed? Jewel Combs is now Mrs. Julia Stratham?” His eyes were on her, measuring her compliance. Jewel nodded.
“Ayeh. My lord,” she added as those eyebrows went up. He smiled at her.
“I can see that you’re a clever girl, Julia. We should get on very well. Ah, yes, Mrs. Masters.” He turned his attention to the plump middle aged lady who presented herself after a brief knock in the doorway. “This is Mr. Timothy’s widow. She requires a room—the gold one, I think—a bath, and a meal. Also, some nightclothes, and, uh, some suitable garments for travel on the morrow. Oh, and you may address her as Miss Julia. She is to be quite one
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