Tom: To Secure His Legacy (Other Pens, Mansfield Park Book 4) Page 7

“When I saw you.”

  “I was at home, reading.”

  She was avoiding. He was right. She was the maid who had cared for him. He shook his head. He was not going to accept such an easy deflection. “Not then, before. When I was out riding.”

  “I was visiting a friend.”

  “You were dressed as a maid.”

  Her eyes shifted from him to look at their companions. “It is easier to travel to certain areas of town when one looks as if she has little money, and at times, I will go to a store to purchase things for my friends, and…” She pressed her lips together as if she did not wish to continue. “It is easier to do that if the shopkeepers think you are a servant,” she finished.

  “And it is necessary for you to do that?” She had said it was necessary for her to be dressed as she was when they had spoken of it in Mr. Clarke’s office.

  She nodded, but she did not look at him.

  “Why is it necessary?” Tom pressed.

  “I would rather not say.” She lifted defiant eyes to him.

  “Your friend is not well, is she?”

  Pain filled her eyes as she shook her head. “Her body is mending.”

  He would love to know what had happened to this friend, but he would not press her further. Indeed, he had, from the looks he saw on Gabe’s and Mrs. Durward’s faces, likely pressed beyond where he should have as it was. “She sang beautifully.”

  Faith shook her head. “That was her student, and it is Olivia’s mother who is not well.” Once again, she pressed her lips together to keep from speaking.

  “She is fortunate to have you.” Tom kept his tone gentle and smiled softly at his angel. “When I was ill, there was a maid who sat by my side, keeping watch over me, seeing that I had all I needed in order to have the best chance at recovery. Therefore, I know just how fortunate your friend is to have you seeing to her care.”

  Her eyes searched his, questioning him. He flicked a brow while tilting his head and shrugging in response. Her throat rose and fell as she swallowed, her eyes growing just the tiniest bit wide and her breath quickening. She understood that he knew the maid had been her.

  “I was not fully aware of my surrounding for several days,” Tom said to Mrs. Durward. “But I remember there was an angel who sat by me and sang to me. I cannot tell you how comforting it was.” Just as it was comforting now to remember how someone had cared for him when he had done nothing to deserve such care. His behavior at the time had been justly rewarded with his injury and subsequent illness. But his angel – Miss Eldridge — had provided mercy for his wayward soul.

  “I am glad you had someone to tend to you,” said Mrs. Durward.

  “As am I,” Gabe added.

  “And you do not know who it was?” Mrs. Durward was excessively curious – much like her son, although a quick glance at that son let Tom know that Gabe seemed aware of the unspoken discussion that had occurred.

  Tom held Miss Eldridge’s gaze as he answered Mrs. Durward’s question.

  “No,” he lied. “My friend was not certain who it was either.”

  That was also a lie, though until this afternoon, Tom had not known it was not the truth. Of course, Robert would conceal such a thing. Young ladies did not spend days sitting in a gentleman’s bedroom without running the risk of having her reputation thoroughly and utterly ruined.

  And Miss Eldridge claimed to not like high risk investments or gambling!

  He shook his head and returned to his tea thankful that she had wagered her reputation to save his life.

  Chapter 10

  “Do you feel more at ease, having met Mr. Durward?” Tom asked as he handed Faith into the carriage an agonizing half hour later.

  How she had managed to not wither away from the mortification of his realizing she had been his nurse when ill must have been an act of Providence. Whether it was a miraculous act or an act of extreme cruelty designed to punish her for her actions, she was uncertain. She knew she pushed the bounds of propriety at times, but she had always done so with what she considered noble reasons.

  “He would not lead you astray,” she managed to say in a tone of voice that did not give any hint at the quivering she felt within.

  “Then you approve of the venture?”

  She nodded. “It is your money.”

  “That is not what I asked.” Tom stopped half in and half out of the vehicle. “I will not invest a farthing without your approval.” He continued entering the carriage.

  “Why?” Tears threatened, and she blinked rapidly against them. “Why does my approval mean so much?”

  Her emotions were little more than frayed bits of rope at present. She should smile, nod, and grant him her blessing whether she understood why he sought it or not. She should remain calm and rational, but all of those things which she should do were not within her power to do.

  She turned to her maid. “Would you please ask to ride with the driver? You can wear my coat if yours is not warm enough, but I must speak with Mr. Bertram about his investments.”

  “Of course, miss.”

  Faith held a hand up to forestall anything that Mr. Bertram might say while they waited for the maid to exit the carriage.

  “Do you need my pelisse?” Faith asked before the door closed.

  “There is a blanket, miss,” the footman at the door replied. “I will see that she has that.”

  “Thank you.” Faith did not shift her eyes from the door for half a minute after it closed. Then, straightening her spine, she prepared herself to have what would likely be a frank and very discomfiting discussion with Mr. Bertram.

  “May I speak now?” He was looking at her curiously. He no doubt was questioning her sanity.

  Faith nodded.

  “I do not know why your approval means so much, but it does.”

  “That is not an answer.” She could feel her emotions welling up in an unmanageable mound.

  “It most certainly is,” Tom assured her.

  “But it does not help me at all. What if I am wrong? What if everything I have suggested to you causes you to lose your funds? I am not infallible.” She rubbed her hands back and forth on her knees until he stopped her from doing so by covering her hands with his.

  “No, you are not infallible, but you are compassionate. A compassionate person would not lead me astray. Durward would not, and neither would you.”

  “But what if I do?”

  “Do you mean to?”

  Faith shook her head.

  “Am I not capable of making my own choices?”

  “Of course, you are, but I do not understand how that follows.”

  “Just as I choose to accept Durward’s advice based on my belief that he would not knowingly cause me harm, so, too, I choose to accept your advice. If I lose money, it is because of my choice.” His eyes did not waver from hers. “Do you approve of the venture?”

  She nodded. “Mr. Durward is…” She shrugged. “Everything you have said he is.”

  The smile that slipped slowly from his lips to his eyes eased her worries somewhat.

  “I…” She lowered her eyes to their joined hands. This part of their discussion was going to be even more difficult to have while keeping her emotions contained. “I…” She paused to breathe. “I… I wanted to thank you for not telling the others that it was me who sat with you at my brother’s estate.”

  He removed one of his hands from hers and cupped her cheek, brushing the corner of her eye with the pad of his thumb. “Why did you sit with me?”

  She shrugged. “How could I not? I arrived to find my brother gone and a gravely ill stranger in his place. There were so few staff. I could not tax them any more than they already were.” She shrugged again. “And I could not allow you to die.”

  A tear escaped despite her desperate blinking, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to contain the others. She could not have done anything differently than she had done, except, perhaps, hire some additional hands for a few days, but then, she had n
ot had the funds with her nor the authority to spend such sums.

  Soft lips pressed against her forehead. She should be startled by the gesture, but she was not. She welcomed its sweetness.

  “I have long wished to meet you and tell you how very thankful I am for what you did for me,” Tom whispered. “You mustn’t tell anyone else this, but it was your care that made me long to better myself as I remembered you while convalescing at Mansfield. My father thinks I have just finally come to my senses of my own accord – assisted by the gravity of my illness.”

  Faith dared to peek up at him. She could not name the emotion she saw in his eyes, but it captivated her, and she could not look away.

  “But it was not the nearly dying part which caused my change – though I have claimed it is to many people and will likely continue to do so. It was the wishing to live and to once again find the comfort I felt when you sat beside me. That is what has wrought a change in my heart.” His thumb caressed her lips, his eyes following it. He leaned toward her. “If my finances were what they should be…” His thumb passed over her lips again. “I could find that comfort once again.” His head inched closer to hers, his eyes on her lips.

  He was going to kiss her. Her heart and breath quickened. She knew she would not stop him.

  Then, just before his lips should have touched hers, he pulled back, removed his hand from her cheek and apologized.

  Apologized!

  As if she were not welcoming of his actions.

  She thought to tell him she did not find his actions in the least bit offensive, but she did not. She simply muttered an acceptance of his regret and attempted not to feel the sting of it all while brushing at the tears which would not keep from falling.

  He pressed his handkerchief into the hand which rested on her lap. “Forgive me. I did not mean to overwhelm you.” He shrugged and looked excessively distressed.

  “I am merely overwrought by all that has happened,” she fibbed. It seemed a far better thing to say than How dare you make me think you might care for me and then dash my hopes? Do you not know that I, too, have thought of you almost daily since the day I discovered you at my brother’s estate?

  No, she could not say that. It smacked too much of desperation, and a lady must retain some trace of dignity.

  “Did my brother, Edmund, meet you?”

  Faith remembered the day Mr. Edmund Bertram had arrived. He was quite beside himself with concern, and Faith had been happy to know that Mr. Bertram had family who cared for him as much as Robert cared for her.

  “I did, but not as me. I was just a maid – Eliza. My name is Faith Elizabeth, so it was not a complete untruth.”

  Mr. Bertram shook his head and chuckled. “For a lady who claims not to like risk, you seem to take it on quite easily.”

  “Easily? I should think not! I feared discovery every day. What if one of the servants did not remember the role I was playing and said something to reveal the truth? What if they carried tales to other servants who shared them with their masters and mistresses?” She blew out a breath. “There is one less worry now, I suppose.”

  “What is that?”

  “Each time we meet, I no longer need to fret over whether you will discover it was me who took care of you. Of course, there is less need for us to meet,” she added quickly.

  He had just apologized for nearly kissing her. He might not wish to call on her when there were no account books which needed her attention. They would still need to meet occasionally to review how his investments were doing. One could not just place their money with a stockbroker and forget to watch it. That was a sure way to lose money.

  His brow furrowed. “If that is what you wish.”

  “No, no, I am not saying I do not wish for us to meet. I am only saying that the hardest part of sorting out a plan for your money is over. We need only monitor now and review on occasion and so on. I am certain you have many other things which will need your attention what with the store and warehouse and all.”

  “But you would welcome me if I called?”

  “Most happily, yes. However. I thought you might not wish to call, and I did not want you to feel obligated.” She pressed her lips together. She was babbling nervously. “I am most curious to hear how your venture progresses with Mr. Durward,” she added after a moment’s pause to calm her thoughts enough to produce rational speech rather than rambling and rapid sentences that strung themselves together like some child’s haphazardly created crown of daisies.

  The carriage slowed to a stop.

  She was home and nearly in one piece.

  No that was not true. She was not close to being in one piece; it was just that all her broken, confused bits were still inside one body.

  She allowed Mr. Bertram to help her from the carriage and see her to her door. Then, with a sigh, she unpinned her hat and removed her gloves and pelisse, leaving them with her maid as she made her way to Robert’s study.

  “Did Mr. Durward meet with your approval?” Robert said, looking up from the book he was reading near the hearth.

  Faith nodded as she sat down in the chair across from him.

  Her brother snapped his book closed and sat up straighter. “What happened?”

  “What do you mean?” She knew what he meant.

  “You are quiet, and if I am not mistaken, it looks as if you have been crying.” He pointed to his eye. “Your eyes are not as clear as they should be.”

  Faith blew out a breath and flopped backward in her chair. “He knows it was me.”

  “Bertram knows you were the one who cared for him?”

  Faith nodded. “He was grateful, of course.” Grateful enough to almost kiss her until he thought better of it.

  “Does he know that you saw him undressed?”

  Faith shook her head. “Although I would venture, he will eventually figure that out as well. I mentioned his gash.” She shook her head again, this time in reproach of her careless mistake.

  Robert groaned.

  “I know,” Faith commiserated with her brother.

  The gash was located above Mr. Bertram’s knee. There was no way for her to have seen it unless he was not wearing breeches. And sooner or later he would deduce that the poultices which had warmed his chest were likely placed there by her as well.

  “He will not tell anyone.” She was certain of that since he did not divulge her secret to Mr. Durward and his mother.

  “Well,” said Robert, “I should hope not, but if he does, then I shall have to insist he saves your reputation just as you saved his life.”

  “I will not be forced on any man, Robert.”

  “You may have no choice, and there are far less agreeable men upon whom you could be foisted, you know.”

  Despite the heaviness which lay on her heart, Faith chuckled softly at the way her brother folded his hands across his middle and looked every inch like her father when he was preparing to lecture one of his offspring. Most often it had been Robert.

  “I know,” she said.

  The room fell silent until, finally, Faith admitted what was pressing so heavily on her. “I am not opposed to being tied to Mr. Bertram.” She cared for him and not just as a friend. She had not known it until he had almost kissed her, and from the way her heart hurt, there was no denying it now.

  Her brother’s eyebrows sprang toward his hairline.

  “I am opposed to him being tied to me.” She bit her quivering lower lip and shrugged. “I think I shall take a rest before dinner.” She rose and crossed to the door. “Actually, I think I shall have a bath and then eat my dinner in my room before going to bed early.”

  “Faith,” her brother called to her.

  She turned and smiled quickly at him. “I know. You think any gentleman would be fortunate to have me, but you are my brother. Your judgment is skewed.”

  “It is not skewed. You are annoying, but you are also quite wonderful,” he called after her, causing her to smile once again.

  If only Mr.
Bertram thought she was as wonderful as her brother did. She would know soon, she supposed. If he did indeed call on her as he claimed he wished to do, then and only then, would she allow herself to hope.

  Chapter 11

  “Gentlemen, might I present you with a lease for your approval.” Mr. Gardiner placed a document on the desk in his office.

  It had been two days since Tom had last seen Gabe. The man should be at home, but he was not. He was here, leading Waller and Tom through a business deal.

  “The building is only a street away from here. It is not as large as this one, but it can store a great quantity of goods. I know because I was the sole occupant of that very building before acquiring this one. I have only just purchased it from the former owner and can assure you that your landlord will be a good one.” Mr. Gardiner chuckled. “He might be a trifle demanding, however.”

  Gabe had taken up the document and was reading through it. His and Waller’s investments in this venture were the most critical. They were playing with money that, should it be lost, the impact would be felt more greatly than it would for Tom. Tom’s estate was secure. It was not as strong as it would be once this investment started producing returns, but it was not in danger of failing if the investment were to sustain a loss. Miss Eldridge had seen to that.

  However, if one were to examine this trio of men seated before Gardiner’s desk more carefully, Tom and Waller were actually, at present, the gentlemen with the most to lose. Waller had to prove himself financially before the father of the lady he loved would allow him to court her. Tom’s predicament was similar, although there was no father to please in his case. Tom needed to prove to himself that he was worthy of his angel, now that he had found her. Therefore, it was with great interest that Tom waited to hear what Gabe thought of the building on offer.

  “I will not allow you to sign it now,” Gardiner said when Gabe was about halfway through the agreement. “I would not want you to sign it without consulting a solicitor. I had mine draw that up, but it would be less than wise for you to accept my word that it is a good agreement. There could have been an error – some item which might have been neglected, though I cannot think of any. I assure you that I take my reputation as a fair and honest businessman very seriously.”