The Rake Takes a Wife Read online

  Suddenly remembering Sir Waldo―the reason for her visit―she realized how crass she was behaving by thinking of herself. The old man was dying, and she focused on marriage and love. Even though his grandson couldn’t be bothered to show his sorrow, Barbara would. The old man deserved as much, someone to make him feel he’d be missed when he was gone.

  By the time Barbara had supervised the maid unpacking her clothing and suffered through the fuss of having assistance changing her gown, Barbara decided to read until supper. The pink-sprigged muslin that the maid, Susan, suggested she wear was light and airy. After the faded gowns she’d owned, she’d swear a princess looked back at her from her mirror.

  She knocked on her mother’s door before descending the stairs when a footman summoned them to eat. “Isn’t this exciting?”

  Mama’s deep maroon gown warmed her cheeks charmingly. Either the new clothes or the beauty of the furnishings in her room had taken years off her face, softening the lines of worry. Only the strands of white in her brown hair gave away her age. “I’m almost able to forgive you for agreeing to this nonsense.” Her grin gave her away―she wasn’t the least bit angry.

  “We must enjoy every minute of it, and when we’re in Town, too.”

  When her lips turned down and her brow furrowed, Mama aged again. “You deserve to live like this every day. I hate that you don’t have fine things like this.”

  Hugging her, Barbara kissed her cheek. “I have your grandmother’s fine dishes and the jewelry you gave me. It’s enough.”

  “It’s not, but it will do. Unless, of course, you find a rich man to marry.”

  “Mama, any man who would marry me would have to be rich. If he’s looking for an income to support his impoverished estate, he will walk right past me in a ballroom.”

  “Any man who would walk past you is a fool.”

  Barbara hugged her again and they went down to supper. Mr. Tatum met them at the bottom of the stairs and took Mama’s arm to escort them to the dining room. With the three of them seated at one end, the long table stretched out looking as if no one had shown up for a party. Three polished silver candelabras were spaced out along the length, but otherwise the table was empty.

  They ate in silence as the footmen served course after course. Barbara threw a pleading look at her mother to do something to ease the thick blanket of uneasiness that weighted the air around them.

  “Your grandfather’s house is quite lovely,” Mama said. “Your grandmother has wonderful taste in furniture.”

  “Thank you.” Mr. Tatum moved an arm to give the footman access to his empty plate. “I tend to be so absorbed in my thoughts, I rarely notice.”

  How a man could be oblivious to all the good in his life, Barbara couldn’t understand. All this comfort and beauty was wasted on him. This home deserved to overflow with happy people, laughing children, and maybe a puppy or two underfoot.

  One more thing to add to her list of items to look for in her future husband―the ability to appreciate what life offers.

  One more thing to add to her list of reasons why she was glad Mr. Tatum wasn’t attracted to her in any way.

  These next few weeks would be very insightful for what she didn’t want in a man, even more than what she did.

  ***

  The next morning, Jonas went to Sir Waldo’s room when he assumed the man would be awake. Grandfather was sitting up, propped by pillows, his silk wrapper covering his nightclothes. “Good morning,” Jonas said.

  “Is it good? It’s so dark in here I cannot tell.”

  Jonas pulled open the drapery on the side of the bed nearest the window. “Is that better?”

  “Helping me dress and go to my office would be better.” He made no move to rise.

  “Grandfather, you aren’t strong enough. You know what the doctor said.”

  Sir Waldo grumbled under his breath. “My valet tells me you brought a woman home.”

  “Yes, my fiancée. I told you she and her mother were coming. She’s excited to meet you.”

  “If she’s convinced you of that, she’s the ideal woman for you.”

  Certain it had to be a slur, Jonas tried to make sense of that, but he couldn’t. Grandfather was so pale his veins were blue paths through his skin. It was becoming more difficult by the day to keep a stiff upper lip when Jonas spoke to him. There was nothing left of the muscle in his arms and hands, making his fingers look skeletal. His slight frame sank deeper and deeper into the feather bed each day. He moved less each day as though the life was leaving him.

  Jonas supposed he was lucky not to have watched his father waste away like this, but losing him suddenly in a shipwreck wasn’t lucky. When Grandpa died, Jonas would be the only man in the family. The entire welfare of Tatum & Company rested on his shoulders.

  Someday he would have a son to pass the business on to, or sons. Glancing out the window, he imagined his children running through the grass with a dog nipping at their heels. He couldn’t picture them clearly enough to know how many boys and how many girls there were, but he could hear their laughter and the dog’s barks.

  Never one to think about what could be―outside of business, at least―thinking about his future family showed exactly how distracted he was watching his grandfather’s life slipping away. He had no time for fantasies, or for a wife and children. Once he’d implemented the changes he was working on at Tatum & Company, and proved he was everything Grandpa insisted he wasn’t, he could think about finding a wife.

  Miss Hallewell would make as good a wife as any young woman, but he couldn’t ask her to wait for him, since he had no idea when he’d finally want to marry. Her brown ringlets surrounding her face framed the pale features perfectly. Her tiny button nose, large gray eyes and rosy, full lips were a pleasure to look upon. She smiled often―although, that would likely change upon marriage when she no longer needed to attract a husband, and she allowed her true self to appear.

  Her brother Gilbert claimed this was the real woman. He insisted she was an angel, the sweetest being in all of England, if not beyond.

  Grunting, Jonas turned away from the window. He didn’t have time for this nonsense. “I’ll bring Mrs. and Miss Hallewell to meet you this afternoon.”

  “It’s about time I have some visitors. What have I done to be shuttered away like this?”

  Unable to tell Sir Waldo the truth, Jonas gritted his teeth. The lack of visitors showed exactly how unpleasant the old man was. He’d never garnered friends, only a litter of puppies who followed him around eager to do the man’s bidding. Any little scrap of approval he tossed their way kept them hanging on.

  It was sad to watch, and even more distressing to know that was the extent of Grandfather’s relationships. His business partners were just that―all business. Their only concern was how well Sir Waldo managed the fishing business. Now they hovered like hawks above Jonas while they watched what choices he made in his grandfather’s stead. No, there were no friends there.

  An hour later, Jonas sat in his study shuffling the papers on his desk. Frustrated at his lack of progress, he gave up the pretense of understanding the numbers on the pages. His timing was excellent, as his good friend Leo, Viscount Ringley entered without knocking and threw himself into a chair.

  “You look hard at work. Shouldn’t you be flirting with your intended, and putting on a show for the servants?” Ringley brushed off a bit of dust from his breeches, a wasted effort as his boots were covered in it from his long ride from London. His red hair had an indented band where his hat had rested, and dirt from the road lightened the waving ends.

  “There’s plenty of time for that. I don’t want to go overboard and have the servants question the validity of our engagement.”

  “The fact you’ve brought a woman under Sir Waldo’s roof has raised enough questions. There’s nothing you could do now that would raise any more suspicions. Where is the lucky lass?”

  The wave of jealousy that swept over Jonas knocked him for a loop.
He must be mistaken at the reason he clenched his teeth. Undoubtedly it was protectiveness he felt, wanting to keep Miss Hallewell safe from Ringley. “I don’t have a spy following her around the house. She’s free to move about as she wishes.”

  “What did Sir Waldo say when he met her?”

  Jonas ducked his head. He was putting off the introductions as long as possible. Once she met Sir Waldo, the game was real. Their betrothal wasn’t, but the lie was. He’d never lied outright to Grandfather and doing so now made him quite uncomfortable. “They’ll meet this afternoon.”

  “I arrived in time, then. Delightful!”

  “You won’t be in the room when I introduce her. Put your opera glasses away.”

  Ringley chuckled. “I’ll wait in the hallway and view her face firsthand when she leaves his bedchamber. I hope I shall meet her soon. If she looks anything like Captain Hallewell, you’re doing her a great favor by paying for her Season. Very generous of you.”

  Unable to sit still with the emotions roiling throughout his body, Jonas paced. “You won’t embarrass her, Ringley. She’s a sweet girl. I wish she weren’t, but it’s too late to find a different woman. I should have hired an actress, someone who’ll be happy to take her earnings and go. I fear Miss Hallewell will become attached to me, and I don’t want her hurt.”

  “Having second thoughts? You’ve formed an attachment already, I see. I hold out little hope for her heart if you act upon your wants.”

  “Nonsense. I have a brotherly concern for her happiness, nothing more.”

  A pair of light heels approached the doorway, the sound echoing in the hallway. “Hush,” Jonas warned.

  Miss Hallewell hesitated before entering. “Am I interrupting?”

  “Not at all, my dear.” Jonas hurried to her side and led her in. “Allow me to introduce Viscount Ringley. He was also in the company your brother leads.”

  Ringley jumped to his feet and bowed his head. “I’m honored.”

  The look Miss Hallewell gave Jonas said she wondered if Ringley knew of their arrangement. Jonas nodded and motioned to the chair beside his friend. “Please, join us.”

  “Thank you. I came to tell you Mother has gone back upstairs to rest. The journey wore her out. May we wait to meet Sir Waldo until she feels better?”

  “Of course.”

  “You look nothing like your brother,” Ringley commented bluntly.

  Miss Hallewell stiffened, and Jonas wondered if she was insecure about her looks. “I resemble my mother, and he my father.”

  Jonas lowered his brow and put as much threat into the glare he threw at his friend as was possible. Ringley grinned and lifted his right eyebrow.

  Poor Miss Hallewell shifted in her seat. “Will you be staying long, Lord Ringley?”

  “As long as Tatum will allow. I looked forward to getting to know his fiancée.”

  Her gaze darted to Jonas, then back to Ringley. “You know of our agreement, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Ringley responded. “And as it happens, I plan to return to London in April. May I reserve a dance now?”

  Her blush only added to her sweet beauty. “You are a horrible flirt. Don’t let the servants hear you. Our plan will be revealed if they think your interest is in earnest. And heaven forbid they hear I’m going to Town during the Season without Mr. Tatum.”

  “Don’t worry. The servants have known me long enough to know I’m a horrid rake who has no intention of marrying.” Ringley swept his hair back and lifted his chin looking like an arrogant boor. How appropriate.

  “I’ll keep him away from you, Miss Hallewell,” Jonas reassure her.

  Withers, the butler, interrupted them. “Sir, your grandfather insists upon meeting Miss Hallewell now.”

  “Very well. Thank you.”

  Miss Hallewell’s hand rose to toy with her ribbon choker. “So soon? I thought we’d wait for Mama.”

  “When Sir Waldo commands, we’re best to answer.” Jonas rounded his desk. “We can introduce your mother later. You look pale. Don’t worry―he might be gruff but he doesn’t bite.”

  Her cheeks turned pink, but she didn’t speak.

  When they entered Sir Waldo’s bedchamber, he was still propped up on his pillows and he remained frozen like a statue. Keeping Miss Hallewell’s hand trapped on his arm, Jonas made the introductions.

  The old man grunted. “You’re not as pretty as I expected. I’m sure you’re after his income, but what does he see in you?”

  Miss Hallewell gasped, her eyes going round.

  “Grandfather! She is my fiancée and you will treat her with respect. I think she’s lovely and has many admirable qualities.”

  “Name one.” Sir Waldo’s sharp stare pinned Jonas in place.

  This had to be a quiz to prove their affection for each other. Jonas could say anything and his grandfather would never know if it was true. Wracking his brain, he tried to come up with an answer. “She―she’s very intelligent and can speak on many topics. She’ll make a perfect hostess. She plays the pianoforte and sings like a lark.”

  Miss Hallewell choked on his last comment, hiding her mouth behind her fingers. “My dear, you exaggerate. I play poorly and have never been noted for my voice.”

  Jonas shook his head barely perceptibly. “If no one has mentioned your voice, your friends are negligent in their praise.”

  “Humph.” Sir Waldo’s lips pinched. “And you, girl? Can you convince me you see something more than a comfortable income when you look at my grandson?”

  She didn’t smile, rather she met his gaze directly, her shoulders back and her head held high. Her posture did little to make her look imposing since the top of her bun only reached Jonas’ shoulder. “I would be foolish to ignore any gentleman’s ability to provide for me, and for our children, but that’s never been my primary concern. Mr. Tatum and my brother spent several years living side-by-side fighting to keep themselves―and the rest of their comrades―alive. My brother only has praise for your grandson. The few times he visited my home, we enjoyed each other’s company. We might not have a grand love between us―yet―but that requires time to grow.”

  Speechless, Jonas stared at her, his jaw hanging loosely. No actress could have given a better response. Perhaps his choice was wiser than he realized. Yet he still was concerned about her falling in love with him. He’d remind her from time to time the basis of their relationship.

  “Pretty words―most likely scripted. If not, you’re too intelligent to be with my grandson.” Grandfather narrowed his gaze on Jonas. “I’m not a fool, you know. Admittedly, I didn’t specify you marry for love, so you have the advantage there. When is the wedding? We’ll have the banns read here. No need to waste money on a license.”

  “We were thinking of a summer wedding,” Jonas said.

  Miss Hallewell nodded.

  “Next year? Why wait so long? Ah, I have it. You’re hoping the old man will die before then and you’ll be free of the stipulation that you marry before inheriting.”

  “I requested we wait, sir.” Miss Hallewell’s voice was strong, as though she wasn’t cowed by Grandfather’s gruffness. “I’m hoping my brother will be home from battle by then and he can attend our wedding. You do understand why that’s so important to me, don’t you?”

  Jonas bit back a grin. She had the same leadership qualities that had earned Gilbert his captain’s rank.

  “Have him come sooner. I plan to be around long enough to see the next generation of Tatum, and there’s no reason to put things off.”

  “Grandfather, please. You’re embarrassing Miss Hallewell.” Jonas was squirming himself. It was ridiculous to have reached twenty-nine years of age and feel uncomfortable discussing childbirth. His concern was more for Miss Hallewell than himself.

  Waving an arm as if swatting flies, Grandfather barked, “Go away now. I’m tired of you.”

  Restraining himself from running out of the room, Jonas kept Miss Hallewell’s hand clamped to his arm. Once th
e door shut behind them, he said, “I beg your forgiveness. I’d hoped he would be gracious toward you, but that was obviously too much to ask. I’ll do my best to keep you from spending much time with him.”

  That would be difficult, given the old man’s propensity for demanding one appear before him, but Jonas would find a way to keep her safe. She deserved as much for coming to his aid.

  3

  THE RAKE TAKES A WIFE

  Two weeks passed quietly, and Barbara spent much more of her time with Sir Waldo than she would have preferred. She enjoyed reading to him but wasn’t sure if the enjoyment was mutual. On the occasion he opened his eyes to squint fiercely at her, she wished she’d never agreed to this farce. Aside from the burning in her stomach his forbidding nature instilled, she began to pity him. He must have lost weight while bedridden unless he’d always been that boney. His ears kept his nightcap from swallowing his head, and the scarf surrounding his neck hid everything below his nose.

  “Find a book with more substance. The Iliad would be much more pleasant.” Sir Waldo couldn’t speak without it sounded like an order.

  “If you prefer it, I’ll be happy to read it.”

  “You’ll find it in the library. In Greek, of course.”

  Barbara lifted the novel in her hands to hide her smile. Undoubtedly the old man assumed she couldn’t read Greek. Her father had taught her Latin, French, and Greek before he died. Admittedly she was a bit out of practice reading Greek, but her pronunciation was excellent. Sir Waldo would never know how much she understood what she read.

  Grateful for the excuse to leave his bedchamber, she nearly ran down the stairs. When she reached the hallway, she slowed and smoothed her hair, gliding gracefully as she moved. Let no one say she was out of place in such a beautiful home.

  Mr. Tatum stepped out of the library just as she reached the door. “Hello. Looking for a book to read?”

  She ignored the fact she had little other reason to be there. “Sir Waldo requested the Iliad.”

  Mr. Tatum tipped his head to one side, studying her. “Do you enjoy the classics? These are old volumes…”