The Bargain. Mary Jo Putney
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to your house.”
“What the devil are you talking about?” Jocelyn asked, startled.
If Miss Lancaster stuck her jaw out any farther, she was in danger of dislocating it. “A wife’s property becomes her husband’s on marriage. If you don’t let David stay here, I’ll … I’ll make him leave all of your property to the Army Widows’ and Orphans’ Fund. He will if I ask him to.”
Jocelyn could feel her hands curling into fists. She hadn’t felt such a desire to visit physical violence on someone since her nursery days. “What a touching example of sibling devotion. However, your brother himself suggested that my lawyer draw up a document waiving any claims against my estate.”
“He waived his rights?” Sally said in dismay.
“He did indeed. Obviously your brother inherited all of the Lancaster family honor, as well as any claim to looks.” Jocelyn reached for the bell cord. “If you do not leave in the next thirty seconds, I will have my servants remove you.”
Sally’s face crumpled. “Lady Jocelyn, I know that you don’t like me any better than I like you. But haven’t you ever had anyone in your life that you loved?”
Jocelyn paused, wary. “How is that to the point?”
“If you had a choice, would you leave someone you loved to die in that vile place?”
Jocelyn winced as she remembered the hospital’s grimness.
Seeing her reaction, Sally said, “You wanted to know if David could be made more comfortable. Well, he will be more comfortable here, and surely you have enough space and servants that he won’t be a burden. If you want to bar me from visiting, so be it. If you ask me to return the entire settlement, I will.” Her voice broke. “But please, I beg of you, don’t send David back to the hospital. Even if he has no legal right, surely you have a moral obligation to your husband.”
“Send him back—you mean he’s here now? Dear God, are you trying to kill him?” Jocelyn asked with horror, remembering how frail he’d been the day before.
“He’s in your carriage and has survived the trip. So far.” Sally said no more, but the implication that a longer journey might drive the last nail into his coffin hung in the air.
Jocelyn gazed down at the ring he’d placed on her finger, exerting himself to the limit of his strength to ensure that he didn’t fumble. Till death us do part.
Given David’s condition and Sally’s vehement rejection of any further aid, it had never occurred to her to bring him to Cromarty House. But her unpleasant sister-in-law was right. No matter how disruptive and painful it would be to have him here, he was her husband. She owed him this. Moreover, she found that she wanted to do anything that would ease his final days.
She yanked the bell cord. Dudley appeared so quickly that he must have had his ear pressed to the keyhole. “My husband is in the carriage outside. He is very ill and will need to be carried in. Take him to the blue room.”
After the butler left, Sally said brokenly, “Thank you, Lady Jocelyn.”
“I’m not doing this for your sake, but for his.” Turning to her writing desk, she lifted a jingling leather bag and tossed it to Sally. “I was going to have this delivered, but since you’re here, I’ll give it to you in person. Your first quarter’s income.”
Sally gasped at how heavy the bag was. As she tugged at the drawstring to look inside, Jocelyn said tartly, “You needn’t count the money. It’s all there—one hundred twenty-five pounds in gold.”
Sally’s head snapped up. “Not thirty pieces of silver?”
Jocelyn said softly, each word carved in ice, “Of course not. Silver is for selling people. Since I was buying, I paid in gold.”
As Sally teetered on the verge of explosion, Jocelyn continued, “You may come and go as you please. There is a small room adjoining your brother’s. I shall have it made up for your use for … for as long as you need it. Does he have a personal servant?” When Sally shook her head, Jocelyn said, “I shall assign him one, plus any other nursing care he requires.”
Sally turned to go, then turned back to say hesitantly, “There is one other thing. He thought it was your idea to bring him here, and that pleased him very much. I hope you will not disabuse him of the notion.”
At the limits of her patience, Jocelyn snapped, “You shall just have to hope that my manners aren’t so lacking that I will torment a dying man. Now will you remove yourself from my presence?”
Sally beat a hasty retreat, shaking in reaction. Any doubts she might have had that Lady Jocelyn was a brass-hearted virago had been laid to rest. But surely she would at least be courteous to David, who seemed to cherish the illusion that she was a good person. Discovering the witch’s real character would distress him.
Chapter 6
It took only a quarter-hour to get the major and his few belongings settled in a sumptuous room with a diagonal view of Hyde Park. It appeared to be the best guest chamber, and Sally again conceded, with enormous reluctance, that Lady Jocelyn did not do things by half-measures. David was white-faced with pain from the move, and Sally was grateful that she had carried the bottle of laudanum over in her knitting bag. When the footman had left, she gave her brother another dose of opium.
Burying her own feelings about Lady Jocelyn, Sally said, “Though your wife was good enough to offer me a room here, I think it’s best that I sleep at the Launcestons’. But I’ll come every afternoon, as I did at the hospital, and Richard said he’ll call tomorrow.” She straightened the covers over his thin frame. “Time for you to get some sleep. The trip must have been exhausting.”
David smiled faintly. “True, but I’m fine now, little hedgehog.”
“Now that you’re settled, I’m going to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. Dr. Ramsey said there’s a very fine surgeon there, someone who might be able to help you.”
“Perhaps,” her brother said, unimpressed.
She noticed that his eyes kept drifting to the door. Was he expecting his so-called wife to visit him? Hoping that Lady Jocelyn was well-bred enough to do that much, Sally said, “I’ll visit again later.” She bent to kiss his forehead, then left.
Hugh Morgan was approaching the blue room. “Her ladyship has assigned me to be the major’s servant,” he said ingenuously. “It’s a real honor.”
“I’m sure you will suit him very well.” As Sally left, she felt unwilling amusement at the perfect poetic justice Lady Jocelyn had visited on Morgan, the accidental instrument for bringing the major to these hallowed precincts. Caring for a gravely injured man would not be easy. Luckily, the footman seemed like a kind, conscientious young man. David would be in good hands.
Now to find the mad Scot at St. Bartholomew’s.
It took Jocelyn a good half-hour to calm down. When her appalling sister-in-law arrived, she’d been admiring the flowers Candover had sent that morning. The note read only Until September, and was signed with a boldly scrawled C.
Holding the note and remembering that wordless but potent interchange between them, she’d been lost in dreams. Perhaps in the enigmatic duke she would find what she had always sought, and never dared believe she would find.
Then that unspeakable female had blundered in with her threats and her emotional blackmail. Except for Sally Lancaster’s vivid green eyes, there was no resemblance to David, who was a gentleman to the core.
Jocelyn’s mouth curved involuntarily as she remembered her remark about buying the major with gold. Aunt Laura would have gone into a spasm if she had heard her niece say anything so unforgivably vulgar, but Sally Lancaster had a genius for bringing out the worst in Jocelyn’s nature.
Jocelyn sighed, her amusement gone, and absently scratched between