Read Online The Bellerose Bargain by Robyn Carr - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robyn Carr
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her face. "Business shall prevent me from spending a great deal of time with you. Indeed, Alicia, our private moments together should prove to be few. I doubt you’ll be worn out by my presence."
"And is that in keeping with what should appear to be a ‘loving marriage?’" she asked innocently.
His eyes darkened somewhat. "It is well known that this is not a marriage built on a foundation of love, but one of inheritance. Still, I think it behooves us both to show those who will look closely that there is a certain fondness between us, once we take up the roles of man and wife." He leaned closer again. "I am not a man bent on commitments or attachments, Alicia. Not at this time in my life. My purpose is to remain free of bonds and ties. Do not fall in love with me or you will be hurt."
"You worry without cause," she returned with bravado.
"You are very young, my dear," he said in a condescending tone. "I suppose you dream of love and castles and many children, and perhaps you’ll find all that at some future time, but—"
"I dream of a fair amount of work in return for freedom and my hundred pounds, Lord Seavers. That is all."
"Then you should be prepared to give me as much as a year of your time, madam, and I will give you aid in seeking some new location and identity."
"That will be fine, Geoffrey," she said. His eyes sparked slightly at the sound of his given name, the reaction she had hoped for. "The name, Geoffrey. You should become accustomed to hearing me use it. Even in our most private moments."
His brows raised slightly and a half smile was his answer. Yes, she was quick. Quick enough to carry off this masquerade without difficulty. He admired her for protecting herself, but a small part of him would not trust her. A better bargain might buy her betrayal. He made a mental note to watch her carefully.
The time that Geoffrey spent with her was minimal, but he was careful, at least, to see that she was not left unprotected at the inn. When he was not there to escort her in and out of the building, Rodney was with her. Only short and carefully guarded walks for exercise and fresh air were allowed and meals were delivered to her room. When the sun was lowering and the men in the tavern became loud and energetic, Rodney was with her through the night.
Little was needed in the way of educating Alicia in better speech patterns, for it was well known that Charlotte would be at a temporary disadvantage in the court. In fact, Charlotte may not have done as well, for Alicia was not only well-spoken, but had a special knack for adapting herself to a new situation. And though no one was quite certain how much personal wealth Charlotte had enjoyed, it could be assumed that her aunt would at least have made sure that she would have some decent clothes and shoes for her journey to London. Only four days were needed to accumulate those things and the other small accoutrements of a lady and make ready for another journey—this time out of the city.
Early in the morning, before the sun was risen, Rodney and Alicia mounted two horses and rode south of London to yet another inn. With a scant amount of baggage tied to the animals, they made a hurried trip. After a brief night in a country inn, they stabled the horses and waited for a London coach. A convenient tale to the driver got them quick service. Rodney explained that he was delivering Lady Charlotte to Whitehall, where she would be given over as ward to Charles himself, but their coach had broken down and would take days to repair. The sympathetic driver offered his services directly to the palace.
Alicia had thought herself well enough prepared, especially after days of discussion and anticipation. But that was before she had even seen Whitehall, the monstrous palace that seemed, from her small window in the coach, to stretch for miles. Her stomach lurched and she felt as though she would be swallowed alive by the building, the people, the plan.
Rodney jumped from
"And is that in keeping with what should appear to be a ‘loving marriage?’" she asked innocently.
His eyes darkened somewhat. "It is well known that this is not a marriage built on a foundation of love, but one of inheritance. Still, I think it behooves us both to show those who will look closely that there is a certain fondness between us, once we take up the roles of man and wife." He leaned closer again. "I am not a man bent on commitments or attachments, Alicia. Not at this time in my life. My purpose is to remain free of bonds and ties. Do not fall in love with me or you will be hurt."
"You worry without cause," she returned with bravado.
"You are very young, my dear," he said in a condescending tone. "I suppose you dream of love and castles and many children, and perhaps you’ll find all that at some future time, but—"
"I dream of a fair amount of work in return for freedom and my hundred pounds, Lord Seavers. That is all."
"Then you should be prepared to give me as much as a year of your time, madam, and I will give you aid in seeking some new location and identity."
"That will be fine, Geoffrey," she said. His eyes sparked slightly at the sound of his given name, the reaction she had hoped for. "The name, Geoffrey. You should become accustomed to hearing me use it. Even in our most private moments."
His brows raised slightly and a half smile was his answer. Yes, she was quick. Quick enough to carry off this masquerade without difficulty. He admired her for protecting herself, but a small part of him would not trust her. A better bargain might buy her betrayal. He made a mental note to watch her carefully.
The time that Geoffrey spent with her was minimal, but he was careful, at least, to see that she was not left unprotected at the inn. When he was not there to escort her in and out of the building, Rodney was with her. Only short and carefully guarded walks for exercise and fresh air were allowed and meals were delivered to her room. When the sun was lowering and the men in the tavern became loud and energetic, Rodney was with her through the night.
Little was needed in the way of educating Alicia in better speech patterns, for it was well known that Charlotte would be at a temporary disadvantage in the court. In fact, Charlotte may not have done as well, for Alicia was not only well-spoken, but had a special knack for adapting herself to a new situation. And though no one was quite certain how much personal wealth Charlotte had enjoyed, it could be assumed that her aunt would at least have made sure that she would have some decent clothes and shoes for her journey to London. Only four days were needed to accumulate those things and the other small accoutrements of a lady and make ready for another journey—this time out of the city.
Early in the morning, before the sun was risen, Rodney and Alicia mounted two horses and rode south of London to yet another inn. With a scant amount of baggage tied to the animals, they made a hurried trip. After a brief night in a country inn, they stabled the horses and waited for a London coach. A convenient tale to the driver got them quick service. Rodney explained that he was delivering Lady Charlotte to Whitehall, where she would be given over as ward to Charles himself, but their coach had broken down and would take days to repair. The sympathetic driver offered his services directly to the palace.
Alicia had thought herself well enough prepared, especially after days of discussion and anticipation. But that was before she had even seen Whitehall, the monstrous palace that seemed, from her small window in the coach, to stretch for miles. Her stomach lurched and she felt as though she would be swallowed alive by the building, the people, the plan.
Rodney jumped from
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