was
still talking.
“But you do
need not worry on that account. Aldridge, whatever you might have
heard about him, is a good man. I have never known him to break a
promise, nor deliberately hurt a woman or child. He is a careless
son of a devil, though. Don’t give him your heart, Mrs
Darling.”
“I have no
heart left, Lord Chirbury. But thank you.”
The two in the
study were silent after that exchange. Aldridge didn’t want Mrs
Darling’s heart, or anyone else’s. Having his lovers profess such
feelings left him embarrassed and slightly guilty, as if he owed
them an apology for retaining his own. Certainly, if he were
capable of this kind of love (and he rather thought he wasn’t),
he’d not be offering it to a woman he had purchased. He’d
cheerfully share the rest of his anatomy, though. One part, in
particular, thought it had waited long enough.
In the next
room, Rede said, “One last thing. Your name. The contract should
bear your full legal name, though I well understand your wish to
bear a working name while you are active in the demi-monde .
I think it unlikely in the extreme you will need to sue Aldridge,
but if anything happened to him, you might end up fighting his
father, and in that, you will need all the advantages you can
get.”
“Let us pray
that never happens,” answered Mrs Darling.
Aldridge should
have thought of that. He had no intention of breaching the
agreement, but Rede was right again. Life was a chancy thing, and
His Grace would spurn her without blinking an eye. Or insist on
taking his son’s place, the old rouê .
“Very well, if
you have no questions? No? Then we just need a fair copy written,
and you and Aldridge can sign before witnesses.” Rede pitched his
voice to carry a little further. “Aldridge? If you have finished
eavesdropping, how about joining us and writing out the new copy of
this contract?”
Rebecca Mary
Winstanley. So said the contract, his copy of which currently
resided in the case of legal papers he carried with him always.
Rebecca. Becky, at least when they were private, though she would
continue to use the name ‘Rose Darling’ in public.
He’d asked the
loan of two carriages, one for him and Becky, and one for Sarah and
the maid they’d borrowed from Anne. They would be one night on the
road, and he did not intend Becky to spend it looking after
Sarah.
Indeed, why
wait for an inn, when one had a commodious carriage?
With many miles
of journey ahead of them, they had plenty of time to explore one
another, and he was enjoying a long appetiser to the main event
when the carriage drew to a halt not a half hour out of
Longford.
Becky tucked
her exposed breast back into her bodice, and wrapped a shawl around
her shoulders to cover the loosened stays, while he buttoned the
side of his fall that she’d half released.
Just in time,
as a knock on the door revealed a tearful Sarah.
“Mama, Pansy
has been sick all down my dress,” the child complained.
Becky
apologised as she helped the little girl to wash in a nearby stream
and change into fresh clothes. Aldridge made sure the travel-sick
maid was supplied with a bucket. Did Rede know the maid was subject
to travel-sickness? Aldridge dismissed the thought as unworthy.
Becky attempted
to persuade Sarah back into the carriage, but the little girl burst
into tears again.
“Bring her in
with us,” Aldridge suggested.
Becky looked
stricken, and he reassured her, “Do not worry, Becky. We have two
whole years. We can wait another afternoon.”
After two hours
in the carriage, he called for his horse and rode the rest of the
way to the inn where he’d booked a suite for the night. His
spirits, somewhat depressed by domesticity, lifted as he reflected
that the little girl would be tired and go early to bed.
He had dinner
served in their suite, but went down to the tap room afterwards to
let Becky put her daughter to bed, the exhausted maid asleep on a
pallet in the child’s room.
still talking.
“But you do
need not worry on that account. Aldridge, whatever you might have
heard about him, is a good man. I have never known him to break a
promise, nor deliberately hurt a woman or child. He is a careless
son of a devil, though. Don’t give him your heart, Mrs
Darling.”
“I have no
heart left, Lord Chirbury. But thank you.”
The two in the
study were silent after that exchange. Aldridge didn’t want Mrs
Darling’s heart, or anyone else’s. Having his lovers profess such
feelings left him embarrassed and slightly guilty, as if he owed
them an apology for retaining his own. Certainly, if he were
capable of this kind of love (and he rather thought he wasn’t),
he’d not be offering it to a woman he had purchased. He’d
cheerfully share the rest of his anatomy, though. One part, in
particular, thought it had waited long enough.
In the next
room, Rede said, “One last thing. Your name. The contract should
bear your full legal name, though I well understand your wish to
bear a working name while you are active in the demi-monde .
I think it unlikely in the extreme you will need to sue Aldridge,
but if anything happened to him, you might end up fighting his
father, and in that, you will need all the advantages you can
get.”
“Let us pray
that never happens,” answered Mrs Darling.
Aldridge should
have thought of that. He had no intention of breaching the
agreement, but Rede was right again. Life was a chancy thing, and
His Grace would spurn her without blinking an eye. Or insist on
taking his son’s place, the old rouê .
“Very well, if
you have no questions? No? Then we just need a fair copy written,
and you and Aldridge can sign before witnesses.” Rede pitched his
voice to carry a little further. “Aldridge? If you have finished
eavesdropping, how about joining us and writing out the new copy of
this contract?”
Rebecca Mary
Winstanley. So said the contract, his copy of which currently
resided in the case of legal papers he carried with him always.
Rebecca. Becky, at least when they were private, though she would
continue to use the name ‘Rose Darling’ in public.
He’d asked the
loan of two carriages, one for him and Becky, and one for Sarah and
the maid they’d borrowed from Anne. They would be one night on the
road, and he did not intend Becky to spend it looking after
Sarah.
Indeed, why
wait for an inn, when one had a commodious carriage?
With many miles
of journey ahead of them, they had plenty of time to explore one
another, and he was enjoying a long appetiser to the main event
when the carriage drew to a halt not a half hour out of
Longford.
Becky tucked
her exposed breast back into her bodice, and wrapped a shawl around
her shoulders to cover the loosened stays, while he buttoned the
side of his fall that she’d half released.
Just in time,
as a knock on the door revealed a tearful Sarah.
“Mama, Pansy
has been sick all down my dress,” the child complained.
Becky
apologised as she helped the little girl to wash in a nearby stream
and change into fresh clothes. Aldridge made sure the travel-sick
maid was supplied with a bucket. Did Rede know the maid was subject
to travel-sickness? Aldridge dismissed the thought as unworthy.
Becky attempted
to persuade Sarah back into the carriage, but the little girl burst
into tears again.
“Bring her in
with us,” Aldridge suggested.
Becky looked
stricken, and he reassured her, “Do not worry, Becky. We have two
whole years. We can wait another afternoon.”
After two hours
in the carriage, he called for his horse and rode the rest of the
way to the inn where he’d booked a suite for the night. His
spirits, somewhat depressed by domesticity, lifted as he reflected
that the little girl would be tired and go early to bed.
He had dinner
served in their suite, but went down to the tap room afterwards to
let Becky put her daughter to bed, the exhausted maid asleep on a
pallet in the child’s room.
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