[Reviews - 91]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2636 times

- Text Size +




Chapter 5

Buffy blinked and dropped the hand she’d been about to extend in greeting. This had to be Montgomery, he was dressed too nicely to be one of the staff, even if he was lacking his jacket, clad in just a vest and shirtsleeves. She blushed a little. It had been quite some time since she’d seen a man so casual. She felt a brief moment of indignation that he would be so uncouth as to appear this way before a lady, before she recalled that she was doing a rather unladylike thing sneaking around his home so early in the day.

But how did he know her? Know the little pet name her mother had given her as a child, that only family and friends used? Oh, Parker. Last night, at that infernal poker game, he must have been talking about her. She clenched her jaw in frustration. How dare her talk about her with total strangers? He was going to pay for this. Just wait until Lilah called this afternoon, she’d get an earful about her no-good son.

She took a deep breath and calmed herself. She could hear her mother’s voice echoing in her head, Be a lady, Buffy, be a lady. Perhaps she could turn this to her advantage, since he at least knew who she was, possibly appeal to Montgomery’s sense of decency that her scalawag of a former brother-in-law would gamble away a poor widow’s horse.

She cleared her throat, collected herself and raised her gaze to a pair of the most startling blue eyes she’d ever encountered. She blinked again. Then took another calming breath. Oh my, maybe there was more than money inspiring such interest in this Englishman. He was quite . . . attractive. She focused again, realizing he was staring at her now with a bemused grin on his face. Very charming, but strange. What had Parker told him about her? She finally found her voice.

"I do believe you have the advantage of me, sir."

William tried to wipe the smile off his face. Madam Anya must have caught up with her last night and told her about his interest. And here she was already. This was almost too good to be true. His eyes raked up and down her body, swathed in layers of black. The widow’s garb was a bit of a puzzle. Ahh, perhaps that was the reason Anya had said she didn’t work for her, she’d nabbed a husband and had made good, been off the market. But he must have passed and she was looking for a new patron. That would explain things, and probably Anya’s strictness about the callers not visiting with her girls.

If anything, his smile was getting bigger. A widow. This was perfect, she wasn’t some bright-eyed innocent. He briefly shoved aside the thought she might actually be trolling for a replacement husband. She wouldn’t be here offering herself so blatantly if that were the case, she’d have accosted him at one of those infernal dinners and evenings he had to attend to play nice with the local gentry. No, she must be here to make him an offer.

"I do apologize, madam, I am William Montgomery."

She nodded. "How do you do, Mr. Montgomery. I’m Mrs. Elizabeth Crawford, though as you’ve already discovered, my friends and family call me Buffy."

She extended a small gloved hand to him and he took it lightly, bringing it to his lips to drop a small kiss. He felt her stiffen at his touch and met her eyes, surprised by the frostiness there. Oh, oh. He dropped her hand hastily. Right. She’d want to make the arrangements first. Course when they were settled, he wondered if she’d be opposed to a quick tumble to seal the deal. Xander would understand if he was a bit late today. He gave her hand one last squeeze as he let his imagination drift to uncovering her breasts from beneath all those layers of fabric and losing himself in her. He almost groaned at the resulting mental image and the effect it was having on him. It had really been far too long.

"Madam, I do apologize, won’t you come inside? I suppose we have some business to discuss, first."

Buffy followed as he led her up the steps and inside the large home. She was fuming and more than a little angry that she’d let Montgomery get away with such familiarity when they’d barely met. This was supposed to be business. She was also a bit disturbed at herself for the strange little thrill she’d gotten when she’d met his blue eyes while his lips had caressed her gloved hand. She drew her small frame up and stiffened her spine as he held the door for her and guided her into an intimate and well-furnished dining room. She had to admire whoever had been in charge of decorating, it was very tasteful and suited the space.

He directed her to a seat at the dining room table. "Mrs. Crawford, I apologize for the informality, I was just finishing my breakfast. Would you care to join me? Some tea perhaps? Or may I have the maid bring something for you?"

As he finished his question, a small warning bell went off in his mind at something that hadn’t registered when she’d first introduced herself. Crawford. As in Holland Crawford? Parker Crawford? Surely she wasn’t a member of the Crawford family. From all he’d seen, they were leaders amongst the Charleston society, he couldn’t fathom them allowing one of their own to marry a lightskirt, no matter how pretty. Must just be a coincidence, they were probably more than one branch of Crawfords in the area. His cocked his head to the side and studied her as he waited for her response.

Buffy started to refuse, but as her stomach rumbled, she realized she hadn’t taken time for breakfast before storming out of the house. Besides, who knew how long this would take and she could really use something to occupy her hands.

"A cup of tea would be very nice, thank you Mr. Montgomery."

He rang the bell and waited for Anna to appear in the doorway, ordering two cups of tea and some toast and jam. He turned back to the small woman seated primly across from him and contemplated how to start. He had to admit to a slight feeling of awkwardness at the moment. She was clearly eager to make some sort of arrangement, but her body language seemed off somehow, as though she were supremely nervous and reluctant to be there.

He sighed, briefly longing for Dru. She’d been quite obvious in her intentions, catching him after they’d returned to harbor after a long voyage and drawing him into a convenient nearby alley where she’d proceeded to make him an offer he hadn’t been able to refuse. Barmy as they came, had been Dru, but with little pretense about sex and what she wanted.

He stared at the lady across the table who was now fidgeting nervously with her gloves. Why wasn’t she making an opening offer? Or something? Was she waiting on him? Hadn’t she done this before? Or had it been so long she’d forgotten how?

"Well, Mrs. . . ."

"Mr. Montgom . . ."

They both stopped short and laughed nervously as Anna reentered the room bearing the tray of food and drink and politely deposited the teapot in front of Buffy to serve. Buffy lifted the china, grateful to have something to do and prepared to start again.

"Mr. Montgomery, if I may speak first, I do apologize for intruding so early upon you. And I want to clarify that this is a business call."

She peeked up at him through her lashes as she carefully poured the tea and passed it to him, surprised at how upbeat he looked about the prospect of discussing business with her. She really hoped he wasn’t going to be difficult about this.

William breathed a silent sigh of relief. He’d been right, she was just in the market for a new patron, not a husband. Finally, they were getting somewhere. He leaned forward eagerly.

"Of course, Mrs. Crawford. Or may I call you Buffy? You did say that’s what your friends called you, didn’t you? And I hope we’ll be good friends."

She didn’t think she would even have admitted to Willow the little shiver that ran up her spine at the silky sound of his voice saying her name. No, that of course would not be why she consented to his request at all. Better to be friendly, catch more flies than honey, that sort of thing, than bristle at the suggestion.

She smiled graciously at him as she completed pouring her own cup and sat down the teapot. "I certainly hope so as well, Mr. Montgomery. And of course, among friends you may call me Buffy."

"And you, of course, must call me William. So we are to be friends, Buffy? I do look forward to that."

Damn that little shiver in the pit of her stomach. There was something just a little too intimate in the tone of his voice when he’d said they’d be friends, but nothing she could call him on exactly. She struggled to regain her focus and return to the point of her business.

"Wonderful. But there is some unfinished business that we really must discuss. I know this is a bit unorthodox, and I want to assure you that I don’t really do this sort of thing. "

William smiled. Her nervousness was very adorable. Somehow that fact that she was less brazen and seemed more innocent was growing on him. One of his parameters was certainly going to be her exclusive commitment to him, no philandering like Dru, and Buffy didn’t seem the type anyway. But he was growing tired of the shillyshallying, time to end these negotiations. He was already picturing her upstairs, spread out on his bed as he delved beneath the frothy layers of her skirt. He couldn’t wait to see that lovely blonde hair laying across his pillows as he pounded months of frustration into her willing body.

"Or course not, Buffy. Now, how about we just make this easy for both of us? Why don’t you just tell me what you want? I think you’ll find I’m prepared to be most accommodating."

Buffy stared at him wide-eyed. Was it going to be that easy? She couldn’t help the genuine smile that broke across her face.

"Why, Gordian Knot of course."

William’s jaw dropped as he stared at her. She wanted a horse? All she wanted was a horse?

"That’s all you want, a horse? No money, or clothes, or a house?"

Buffy furrowed her brow as she stared at him in confusion.

"A . . . house? And clothes and money? Why would I . . ."

And then the light dawned. She almost passed out as she realized what he’d thought her business was. He thought she was there to proposition him. If the floor could have opened and swallowed her then and there, she would have been grateful. Her face grew bright red as she watched the puzzlement grow on his face and then his realization begin to break as well. For the briefest of moments she wondered what he would do if she were to accept his offer, to start a secret liaison and be his mistress, to feel something, anything again.

But she shoved that thought quickly aside as improper and tried to think of what to say next. Coming up with nothing relevant, she decided perhaps a hasty exit would be the better course of action as another wave of hot shame washed over her. He’d thought she was a prostitute. She jumped from her chair, heedless of the jolt which sent tea sloshing onto the table, and raced for the door.

And he moved almost as quickly, catching her just as she reached the exit and holding her arm while he shut the barrier to keep the remainder of the conversation from the prying ears of the servants. She ducked her head, refusing to meet his gaze as she twisted, trying to remove his grasp of her arm, but he held tight.

"Buffy, stop it, stop. Bloody hell, women, stop thrashing and look at me for a minute."

He almost relented and let go of her at that moment as she stilled, tears in her eyes as she finally looked at him.

"Now, why don’t we start from the top and see if we can’t see what’s going on here. Buffy Crawford, I’m William Montgomery. I’m recently from England, a new resident in your city and thought I was meeting a young lady this morning who had a, well, shall we say personal interest in getting to know me better. I believe that I was mistaken and I offer my sincere apologies So why don’t you tell me who you are and why you’re really here."

A tear rolled down her cheek as she met his gaze, more threatening to follow. This had to be one of the most humiliating things that had ever happened to her. If word of this ever got out, she was ruined. Lilah would have a field day with this one.

"Luv, stay with me here. Who are you? And what do you want?"

His face was a little too close for comfort and propriety and their position was hardly appropriate, her body trapped as it was between him and the smooth wood of the door. Despite her voluminous skirts, she could feel the hardness of his body as he kept her locked by his gaze and the loose prison of his arms. Well, there wasn’t any way out of this, she just had to hope he’d be kind enough not to tell about their little encounter. Just what she needed, something else to have to ask him for.

She took a shuddering breath and managed to get out, "I’m not a . . . a . . . fallen woman, if that’s what you think."

He quirked his head to the side and smiled at her. "Already told you I’d sussed that one out. If you had been, you were doing a bit of a bad job with it, little too stiff. So what don’t you tell me who you are."

She managed a small smile in return and thought about how to answer that. "I’m Elizabeth Crawford. I’m a widow and I live the next street over." She paused. Why had she volunteered that bit of information? That was irrelevant. "My husband’s brother, Parker, played cards with you last night and lost something of mine and I came to see if you might let me have it back."

"So you are part of the Crawfords, wondered when you introduced yourself."

She bristled at that. "I am not a Crawford, just because I happened to have married one. I’m a Summers."

He laughed, she certainly could change moods quickly. Feisty little thing. He was starting to regret that she wasn’t here for her original purpose, the more he saw of her, the more he liked, not just her outward beauty, but the spark she had, the way she was looking out for herself. He dropped his arms and led her back to the table.

"I think I can see why you don’t care for the in-laws there, didn’t fancy them too much myself, least the ones I’ve met. Now, let’s talk about this horse."

She mopped absently at the spilled tea with her napkin as she explained how Parker had taken the horse and he agreed with her summation that Parker was a right bastard, even if she used less colorful language. She’d launched into some long story about her father giving her Gordian for her sixteenth birthday and how much she loved the beast and so on. He idly though that it was hardly fair of him to keep the horse, she seemed very attached to it. But something in him was reluctant to acquiesce too quickly and have her waltz out the door again. He hadn’t been this entertained in he couldn’t remember how long by a woman. As she earnestly continued the tales of the perfection of Gordian, the paragon of horseflesh, he idly considered how to delay her.

A knock on the door interrupted them and William rose to open it to Anna, who wore a troubled look on her face.

"Yes? I’m a bit busy now."

"But sir, Cook’s insisting that she can’t find any good lamb at the market and that she’s going back to London on the next boat if she’s not given adequate supplies to work with."

He almost growled. He was tempted to just fire the lot then and there. Who needed a gaggle of servants to nag and pick and undercook his food and ruin his laundry and run off with bloody farmers to the wilderness? He could probably muddle through just as well on his own.

He was just about to inform Anna that they could all take the next boat back when Buffy appeared by his side, tears gone, perfectly composed, with the demeanor that seemed to frighten servants which he never could pull off.

"Anna, I believe your name was?"

Anna nodded.

"Anne, I’m Mrs. Crawford, a friend of Mr. Montgomery’s. I couldn’t help but overhear your cook was having some problems locating fresh lamb, and I was wondering if she’d tried Johnson’s butcher stall at the city market? He always has the freshest cuts. I’ll be going to market myself later today, I’d be happy to show your cook where he’s located, if she’d like."

Anna beamed. "Could you miss? I think she’d be quite happy with that. I’ll go tell her."

William shut the door and turned to the composed Buffy as he paced across the room. "How did you do that? And so calmly? Every time I turn around they’re all having a crisis and want me to solve it. Like I know the slightest thing about running a house."

She shrugged and resumed her seat more in control now. "It’s one thing I do know how to do and well. I’m surprised you don’t have a housekeeper to handle those matters."

"She didn’t want to come with the rest from London and I haven’t had time to find anyone else. Another one of the maids just quit this morning. Don’t know what we’ll do about replacing her."

She bit her lip, a quick thought flashing through her head. "Are you only interested in English servants?"

He flashed her a sharp look. "I don’t want slaves, if that’s what you’re asking."

She shook her head. "Actually, I wasn’t."

He stopped his pacing and sat back down, returning his focus to her. "Well, enough about my domestic troubles, seems like what you’re asking is I just hand back over the horse and call it even."

Buffy perked up and smiled at him. "Yes, exactly, that’s the fair thing."

He grinned, waiting for the explosion he suspected he was about to set off. "But what about me? I won that horse fair and square in a hand of cards. Way I see it, I’m an innocent who just got rooked by your less than honorable relation. Now is it fair for me to be deprived of my winnings?"

He watched her eyes narrow as her obvious fury grew, as he’d expected. "You deprived? You probably cheated to win. You know now that it wasn’t his. How can you not give it back?"

"Well, I suppose that I could. But I feel I should have something in return for my trouble. After all, there’s not just the matter of the horse, now is there, Mrs. Crawford? I seem to recall seeing you last night at an establishment not generally frequented by ladies of your caliber."

Buffy blanched as she watched his eyes drop to her breasts. Surely he didn’t mean . . . But he knew now that she wasn’t . . .he’d seen her at Anya’s! It took everything in her not to bolt again as she met his gaze and listened to the next few words.

"I sure we could work out an arrangement that would be mutually beneficial to us both, Buffy."





You must login (register) to review.