Free Chasing the Heiress by Rachael Miles

“His lordship has made us a fine proposition.”
    Lucy stiffened. “A proposition?” She willed her face to remain impassive. Had she misjudged the kind of man he was? From living with her cousin, she’d come to believe that the men of the ton were venal and selfish. But Colin, she’d told herself, wasn’t a lord as much as he was an officer. And she knew officers—their faults, their prejudices, their shortcomings, but also their virtues. Nell was still talking, and Lucy forced herself to listen.
    â€œI can’t see any reason to refuse, but I’ll tell him nay if that’s what ye be wishing.”
    Lucy’s heart pounded hard in her chest, and her breath felt stiff. She knew how coercive the aristocracy could be. “What does he want?”
    â€œAn active man who finds himself bedridden grows bored easily, and bored guests are difficult guests. They complain about the beds, the noise, the food, even the smell of the air.”
    â€œGo on.” Lucy felt her distrust grow like yeast in a glass of sugar water. She’d been taught from infancy to minimize her risks, to take precautions, to remain safe. She’d been a fool to disregard that training.
    Nell held out two pound coins, and Lucy felt her stomach upheave. She’d allowed herself to believe that Colin was an honorable man, but this . . . how could this be honorable?
    â€œHe wishes for you to entertain him during the day. And he’s provided more than enough to pay both you and Peggy for the next two months. Peggy’s da died last month, and she’s the eldest of four—I’ve been hoping to have enough trade to hire her. And this . . .” Nell smiled at the coins.
    Lucy looked at Peggy, her thin arms and legs, already doing exactly as Alice told her. “What does he expect me to do?” Peggy’s presence made refusal difficult, and she wondered ungenerously if that was what Nell had intended.
    â€œOh, he’s provided a list.” Nell held it out. “These things and nothing else. And you may refuse three requests per day. Even better, if he asks for something not on the list, we may keep his coin without any additional obligation.”
    Lucy read the list. Nothing salacious. Reading aloud. Writing letters. Games involving cards, dice, marbles, or boards, but no wagers. She turned the sheet over to see if there were additional items on the back; then, still suspicious, she held it up to the light to see if other words appeared. Nothing. Her relief felt like cool water on a hot day. He was exactly who she had believed him to be.
    â€œMr. Fletcher says his lordship’s relations should be here in two, three days at the most.” Nell grinned. “And he’s already paid us.” She pressed one of the pound coins in Lucy’s hand.
    Lucy turned the coin over. No scullery maid would refuse so much money for a few days’ attention to a convalescent. But she still felt vaguely uncomfortable, as if there were a larger game at play, and she didn’t know its rules.
    Even so, she pocketed the coin. “What harm can come of it?”
    â€œThat’s what I thought.” Nell patted her on the back. “Go on up now. And take that basket: I’ve collected some games and books from the public rooms.”
    Lucy picked up the basket and headed toward the guest lodgings. She hoped Colin grew less appealing with familiarity. Otherwise the harm might be to her heart.
    * * *
    Fletcher was standing at the door when Lucy arrived, basket in tow. Fletcher spoke loudly enough that Colin could hear each word perfectly.
    â€œThank heavens that you agreed, Miss Lucy, or I might have killed him by nightfall. Morose and moody, he is, and no cheering him.”
    â€œThen perhaps we can distract him.” She tilted the basket so only Fletcher could see its contents. “See anything he likes?”
    â€œAh, yes, miss. This.” The coachman smiled