No Marriage Of Convenience - No Marriage Of Convenience Part 45
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No Marriage Of Convenience Part 45

She got up and leaned across his desk. "Please, let me help you.""You needn't worry about Mrs. Pindar and her threats. I've taken care of her.""But how?"He waived off her question. "It is none of your concern.""Don't you see, Mason? You don't have to marry Miss Pindar. You can marry-" Riley's mouth opened to finish the last of that thought, but she closed it. For a moment she studied him, then her gaze dropped to his desk and she sighed.

Mason was thankful she had stopped short of saying what she had been about to-

-You can marry me instead.

Mason was only too aware of that fact.

But how could he ask her to marry him now?

If he went down on bended knee before her, seeking this marriage of convenience, he would be the

worst type of hypocrite-especially since he'd held his tongue this long."If things were different..." he started to say. "They aren't-I didn't-"Riley held up her hand. "Don't say anything more." She looked about ready to burst into tears. She brought her hand to her trembling lips, before turning and fleeing the room.

Mason bounded after her. "What do you think you are doing?"

"I'm leaving. I'll be out of your house as soon as I can collect my papers," she sobbed. "Nanette can

finish the rest and come along later." She gathered up her skirt and marched up the steps.He caught her by the arm. "I don't want you to leave.""I'm sure you don't," she said. "But I hardly think Miss Pindar or Mrs. Pindar would approve of you keeping your mistress in the house while you are finalizing your arrangements for a respectable union."

She turned on one heel, sweeping past Belton.

"I will not allow you to be harmed. Honor requires-"

"Your honor be damned," she shot back. "Where was your honor the other night in the library? Or last night?" She took two steps back down toward him. "I am leaving. I am no longer your responsibility.

Since you do not want my money, there is no reason for me to remain under your protection."

"Riley, this isn't one of your plays."

She laughed, a bitter, angry sound. "A wonderful tragedy, don't you think? You should write it. It might make you rich."

With that she went upstairs. He knew he should try to stop her, but it would only make her that much

more determined to leave, and more difficult to follow. As it was, he'd have the Runner McElliott had posted outside the house trail after her and see to her safety. Between Hashim and the other man, it was the best he could do for her.

For the moment.As he retreated into his study, Riley's final words continued to bedevil him.Digging through Freddie's papers, he found one of his brother's investments that he'd passed over several times. And as he studied it, he began to smile.

You should write it, she'd said.

Maybe he would do just that.

The Blackened Swan was no place for a peer of the land to be drinking, but this was what Stephen had

come to in the two weeks since Lady Marlowe had found her granddaughter. What with Ashlin nosingabout and Lady Marlowe renewing her search for evidence of her daughter's marriage to Stoppard,someone was going to lead them back to his father-and then to him.

Plans whirled about in his mind. He had to pay off his creditors before they denounced him publicly. To do that he needed the income from the Marlowe estates.

At least to continue the illusion that the Caristons were still rich and powerful.

Dammit, the money was his right, his due-not hers.

Stephen stared moodily into the barely palatable tankard of ale sitting before him, while all around him the dredges of London drank and plotted in this dark corner of Seven Dials.

"I 'ear you need a new man," a rough voice asked, interrupting Stephen's visions of Cariston glory-allgone because of his father's years of risky investments and costly vendettas. "To fill in for Nutley, nowthat 'e's been put to bed with a shovel." The man laughed, drawing a few coarse remarks from a fewother listeners.

"Quiet, you fool," Stephen told him. "I won't have my business nosed about."

The man reached over and caught Stephen by the throat. The brute's callused fingers wound around his windpipe, starting to crush it. "No one calls me a fool. Not you, not no one."

Stephen nodded, his apology gargling in his throat.

The man smiled and released him.

Gasping for air, Stephen scowled down at the table, but this time kept his distaste for the man and the

rest of his loathsome ilk well hidden. "I might be in need of your services."

"I might be in need of your services," the man mimicked. He leaned closer until his breath, a combination

of rotten mutton and sour ale, washed over Stephen like a cesspool. "Ye sound like a regular Jemmy.Either ye need me services or ye don't." The man started to rise from his chair."No, wait," Stephen told him. "I do-if you can provide the same work I had hired Mr. Nutley to complete.""Mr. Nutley, is it?" The man coughed up a wad of phlegm and spat it at the floor. "Nutley was nuthin'but a filchman, a sorry excuse of a cove who pranced around fancy-like, thinkin' 'e was better thaneveryone else. If you ask me, 'e got exactly what was comin' to 'im. But me, now I'm a swaddler who ain't afraid to crack what needs to be done." The man pulled a long knife from inside his coat and beganpicking his teeth with it, his lips spread in an evil grin.Stephen eyed him. "How do you feel about killing a woman?"The man leered. "I kills 'em all the time."A few others around them laughed at this vulgarity, and Stephen chuckled a bit, if only to keep his newfound companion in good spirits.

"There is a woman who I would prefer go aloft."

"Tossed you over, eh? Made you wear the horns, perhaps?"

"Yes, something like that," Stephen said, not caring a whit if this man thought him nothing more than a vengeful cuckold.

"You want to see this bitch gone, but not obvious-like?"

"Yes, exactly," Stephen said. "And quickly. An accident, whatever fits your mood."

The man nodded. "I like the way ye do business, Jemmy. If it's justice ye want done to this bitch, Bean McElliott is your man."

"Riley, do you think this gown would make a good wedding dress?" Bea asked. The girls had been at the theatre for a fitting with Jane Gunn and had come upstairs to have tea with her. "You don't think it's too daring?" She glanced at Maggie, who blushed and busied herself with pouring another round of tea.

"What do you care?" Louisa snapped. "As if either of you two are going to get married. Especially if you keep wasting every afternoon over at Lady Delander's taking housekeeping lessons."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Maggie said, rising to Bea's defense. "I'll have you know that-"

"Maggie!" Bea interrupted.

Riley glanced at both of them and wondered what mischief they'd been up to-not that it could be much if they were spending all their time at the Delanders'. And she knew Louisa's ill humor sprang from the fact that Riley had sent Roderick on a list of errands that would keep him gone all afternoon.

"Riley, what do you think?" Bea repeated, standing up and slowly twirling around. "I think this would be a perfect wedding dress."

"'Tis lovely," she said, truly meaning the compliment. The pale blue silk might not have been a color Riley would have chosen for Bea, but leave it to Jane Gunn to find the perfect hue for the girl. The intricate embroidery, which Riley knew the lady had done herself, dotted along the edge of the hem and the neckline in a dainty row of flowers and curlicues. "I think it is an excellent choice for Lady Marlowe's ball."

Much to Riley's delight, her grandmother had offered to sponsor the girls' coming-out ball. Mason had grudgingly agreed to this bit of charity only after the girls had hounded him nonstop for three days straight, or at least, that was what Bea had reported with a satisfied smile.

The thought made Riley grin as well. She only wished she'd been there to see the girls' antics-and perhaps even lend a hand.

His lenience may also have resulted from the fact that the girls had finally blossomed into a trio of ladies. The three of them had flourished all on their own since the Everton masquerade.

"What do you think of my gown?" Maggie asked. For the brunette girl, Jane Gunn had chosen a primrose muslin, dainty and sprightly, the fabric complimenting Maggie's delicate features. A georgette silk overskirt completed the ensemble, lending it an ethereal quality that made Maggie look like an Eastern princess.

"It's enchanting," Riley told her. "I only hope your uncle approves."

"As if we ever see him anymore," Louisa said. "Since he agreed to our coming out, he has barely been home. Gone all hours and not even taking tea with us. Especially now that the-""Louisa, shut up," Bea hissed.Her sister sat up. "Well, he hasn't been home in days."Riley drew a deep breath. She knew why Mason wasn't home.Miss Pindar.On the day she'd left, when she'd offered to have her grandmother pay off his debts and practically begged him to marry her, she'd seen the evidence that declared he'd already made his decision. For there on his desk had been a special license, granting him the privilege of marrying Miss Dahlia Pindar without a moment's delay.

"I suppose he is making his marriage plans.""Of course," Louisa told her. "He's-oooof!"Bea's elbow had landed in her sister's ribs, ending Louisa's disclosure of Mason's wedding plans.For once Riley was glad for Bea's unreserved manners, because she didn't want to hear about the impending nuptials.

"Cousin Felicity sent her apologies for not coming down," Maggie said. "She's reading that new novel-

the one that's all the rage, and she refuses to leave the house until she's finished it so she can be included in the chatter."

Riley smiled. Leave it to Cousin Felicity to put her ability to gossip effectively above all other matters.

"Yes, well, we had best get home," Bea said, rising abruptly, and shooting Maggie a censorious look.

"Besides, we'll see you tonight."

"You are coming to the play?" Riley asked. She'd never been so nervous about an opening night in all her life.

"Of course," Louisa said. "It will be a night to remember."

If only Riley had known then that truer words were never spoken.

The Marlowe town house churned with activity. Servants hurried back and forth, while merchants continued to cart in the bottles of champagne, bushels of food, and other necessities for the coming-out ball of the St. Clair sisters.

Mason wove his way through the hubbub to find Lady Marlowe happily ordering about everyone who ventured within earshot. Riley was nowhere in sight-which for now seemed the best.

"Lord Ashlin, if you are not here to help, then you are only in the way," Riley's grandmother complained.

Mason wasn't insulted. He knew his timing was terrible, but it couldn't be helped. What he had discovered this morning confirmed everything he'd suspected. "I came on a matter of some importance, my lady. If you could spare me but a moment of your time."

"A moment is all I can give you," she said, leading him to an alcove in the ballroom and setting herself on a chair tucked inside it. "This will keep us out of the way in case those accursed musicians decide to arrive." She folded her hands in her lap and took a deep breath. "Now tell me what has brought you all the way over here in the middle of the day? Have you finally come to ask for Riley's hand? If you have, I give you my consent. Always liked you Ashlins-your grandfather turned my head with his silvery tongue more than a few times when I was a young thing in my first Season."

"I thank you, my lady. Now that I've turned my finances around, I feel worthy enough to make such an offer."

"Worthy, you say? Bah, shaky finances or not-you've always been the man for her. You love her and she loves you, and that is all that matters."

"And I have every intention of making her my bride before the month is out," Mason said. "But first, I actually came on another matter. How much do you know about Lord Cariston's business?"

She shook her head. "Very little."

"And of his father?"

Her nose wrinkled. "Stephen's father was hardly a favorite around here. A distant cousin of my husband'

s, and as Lord Marlowe used to say, they were distant for good reasons."

Mason nodded. "Your husband was a wise man." He paused for a second and considered how to ask