A Hellion In Her Bed Part 19

Sissy sighed. "I was thinking that the two of you could dance, and perhaps his lordship-"

"Would miraculously decide to marry me, swept away by the dulcet sounds of a quadrille?" Annabel gave a bitter laugh. "I told you, he's not the marrying sort. And if he goes tonight and Hugh goes, we're doomed!"

"Nonsense. I will simply impress upon Hugh that he mustn't drink at the dinner."

"He can't even attend! We've made too much of his supposed illness-not only with Lord Jarret, but also with the townspeople. Everyone will be suspicious if Hugh shows up there after all we said."

"But we can't talk Hugh out of going. It's the one thing he never misses. Some part of him still feels compelled to keep up appearances."

"I know," Annabel said wearily. "I don't suppose it matters anyway. Everything will go to h.e.l.l the minute Lord Jarret arrives to meet him this afternoon. We barely have enough time to explain to Hugh exactly why we went to London and why Lord Jarret is here. There's no telling how he'll react, and if Lord Jarret comes in the middle of that-"

This was a nightmare. Why did Jarret have to be so stubborn and suspicious? Why was he proving to be far more competent at this business than she'd realized? And far too astute at seeing through her.

"Even if we can get through this afternoon somehow," she went on, "tonight will be a disaster."

"No, it won't." Sissy patted her hand. "You let me handle Hugh tonight. I can keep him away from the drink for one night. You handle Lord Jarret. Perhaps if you dance and flirt with him, he won't pay so much attention to Hugh."

"You put far too much stock in my ability to charm a man," Annabel said. "And anyway, that doesn't solve the problem of this afternoon."

They'd arrived home. Thankfully, Hugh was nowhere in sight while Jarret's coachman helped them out and directed their footmen in unloading their bags. As they entered the house, a rush of longing for a place of her own hit her, as it always did. She would never stop feeling like an intruder here.

Not that she didn't adore Sissy and Hugh and the children, but this would always be theirs alone. The pale pinks and lavenders of the wallpaper were too insipid for her taste. She longed for bright reds and golds, explosions of color to match the simmering pa.s.sions that always seemed to war within her. If she ever had a home, it would hold burnished mahogany tables and richly brocaded upholsteries. With ta.s.sels. Lots of ta.s.sels. She adored ta.s.sels.

And it would never smell like old beeswax and sour wine. Not if she could help it.

As she and Sissy handed the footman their coats, the butler informed them that the master was sleeping. For one dark moment, Annabel wanted to scream. Sleeping was the servants' term for pa.s.sed out. And it was barely past noon, too! He must have spent the entire night drinking. Again.

And then she realized how they could make this work. "Sissy," she said, as soon as Geordie had run off upstairs to his room and the butler had retreated, "I've got an idea. All we have to do is keep Lord Jarret from having his business meeting with Hugh until the morning."

"How does that solve anything?"

"Don't you see? Lord Jarret wants to tour the brewery this afternoon-we'll let him do that part. He'll see that the brewery is a sound one, that the men are hardworking and the brews we make are solid. And Mr. Walters will impress him with his business ac.u.men and his knowledge of what needs to be done. Plus, Mr. Walters won't say a word against Hugh."

"I still don't-"

"While Lord Jarret tours the brewery, you and I will convince Hugh to accept our plan. We would have had to talk him into it anyway, and as long as we can keep Lord Jarret from meeting him this afternoon, we'll have time to break it to Hugh gently. Then tonight at the dinner, we can keep the conversation away from business ... and Hugh away from the drink."

She paced the foyer, her mind working through her plan. "Hugh is always better in the morning, as long as he isn't cropsick. If we can keep him sober until morning, he'll be ready to do his part. Then Lord Jarret will be off in his coach back to London, and we can start work on getting this project off the ground! What do you think?"

"You're leaving out one important detail-how shall you keep Lord Jarret from paying his visit to Hugh this afternoon? He seemed very determined."

"Is Dr. Paxton still sweet on our housekeeper?"

"As far as I know."

A smile curved Annabel's lips. "Then just leave this afternoon to me."

Chapter Fourteen.

An hour later, when Jarret arrived, Hugh was still pa.s.sed out in his bed, thank goodness. Annabel had made sure that Dr. Paxton, who'd reluctantly agreed to help her, was standing right outside Hugh's bedroom as Jarret was shown up.

She nodded faintly to the doctor, and he cleared his throat. "I gave your brother laudanum to help him sleep, Miss Lake. He should be feeling better by tonight."

"What's going on?" Jarret asked.

"Oh, you've arrived!" She made the introductions, then donned a worried frown that wasn't entirely feigned. "I'm afraid Hugh is being difficult. When we told him you were going to the dinner tonight, he insisted upon going, too. But Dr. Paxton is concerned that he can't handle it. Indeed, he is against it entirely unless Hugh rests this afternoon."

"And what about our meeting?" Jarret's voice was deep with suspicion.

She opened the door to show him Hugh's snoring form. She and Sissy had borrowed some of Dr. Paxton's concoctions to sprinkle around the room and give it the smell of a sickroom. Now she just had to pray that Hugh didn't wake before she got Jarret out of here.

"As you can see, he's in no condition to discuss business. But he should be perfectly able to in the morning. Besides, you'll have a better sense of what you wish to do and say after you tour the brewery this afternoon, don't you think?"

He considered that. "I suppose."

"He must not be overtaxed, my lord," Dr. Paxton put in. "A business meeting followed by a business dinner would be too much for his const.i.tution."

"Thank you, Dr. Paxton," she said, casting the older man a grateful smile. "I appreciate your help."

"Of course, Miss Lake."

She took Jarret's arm and led him downstairs. "I'm sorry to upset your plans, but Hugh was adamant about wanting to attend tonight. He felt it would be rude to let you go without him, since he feels that he's your host."

They reached the foyer. "I'll bring you down to the brewery," she went on, "and you can spend the afternoon with Mr. Walters. Then tonight we'll meet you at the dinner-if you've managed to gain an invitation?"

Jarret took her coat from the footman and helped her into it. "Ba.s.s was kind enough to include me, yes."

Of course he was, she thought sourly. Mr. Ba.s.s was probably leaping for joy at the thought of having a marquess's son attend.

As they left the house, Jarret leveled a dark glance on her. "I'm warning you, Annabel. I'm not leaving town without speaking to your brother."

"Of course not. And he wants to talk to you, too," she said calmly. He would after she and Sissy got done with him, anyway.

They walked a short way in silence. "Tell me something," he said at last. "Did you ask me to stay at the inn because you were afraid to be in the same house with me? Afraid that I might ... try to kiss you again?"

She sucked in a breath. That certainly wasn't a question she'd expected. And how odd that he would put that interpretation on it. It worked well to her purpose, so she should let him keep thinking it.

Instead, she heard herself saying, "To be honest, that hadn't occurred to me. Though now that you mention it-"

"Don't worry. You made it quite clear where you stood. I don't believe in forcing women into anything."

"I never thought you did."

"Not even when I made that wager?"

"That wasn't force. I could have refused it."

"I expected you to."

She couldn't prevent a smile. "I know."

The air fairly crackled between them. She was painfully aware of the last time they'd been alone together, of how he'd brought her to heights of pa.s.sion she'd never known. Of the heat on his face when he'd said he'd thought of nothing but taking her....

Oh, Lord, every time he got near her, he made her wish things could be different. But they couldn't. And there was Geordie, too.

Her throat tightened. There was always Geordie to think of.

"Annabel, I-"

"We're here," she said brightly, not wishing to hear whatever lies he would tell to make himself feel better about only wanting her in his bed.

He cast her an enigmatic glance, then gazed at the brewery. "So we are."

She hurried inside, and the smell of hops and malt hit her, so sweetly familiar that it settled her nerves. It had always been that way for her. The crackle of the fires under the kilns, the rattling of the wort boiling in the coppers, and the scents of herbs soothed her. Here, she felt at home.

Here, she could be herself.

Mr. Walters was in the little office in the back of the building. When he spotted her through the gla.s.s window, he came out to greet her with a smile. She introduced Jarret, explaining why he'd come and what he wanted to see. Fortunately, Mr. Walters had approved their scheme from the beginning, so he adapted to the change in plans with nary a stumble.

"Well then," she said, "I'll leave you two to get acquainted."

"Wait," Jarret said. "Where are you going?"

"Someone has to sit with Hugh while Sissy goes to fetch the children from her mother's." She smiled. "But we'll see you tonight at the dinner."

Without giving him a chance to protest, she headed out of the brewery. Once outside, she quickened her pace. They had only a few hours to talk Hugh into doing this.

When she entered the house, she heard loud voices and groaned. Hugh was awake.

She found him and Sissy arguing in his study. Thank heaven that she and Sissy had agreed to leave the other children at Sissy's mother's house until their discussion was over, because he looked fit to be tied. He was in his dressing gown, pacing up and down the room and gesticulating wildly. With his thinning brown hair stuck out from his head like dandelion fuzz and his chin covered with a day's growth of beard, he looked like a scruffy day laborer and not the quiet, bookish man she knew and loved.

The minute she entered, he whirled on her. "This is all your doing, isn't it? I can't believe you went to London behind my back to talk to the Plumtrees! You said the trip was for Geordie, to get him a spot in a good school-"

"We can't afford a good school for Geordie," she shot back. "Can't you see that? Not the way things are now."

A stricken look crossed his pale face. Then he slumped into the chair behind his desk and buried his head in his hands. "I know, I know, Annie." Hugh and Papa were the only ones who'd ever called her that. "The brewery doesn't bring in enough, and I've failed the family."

"That's not what I'm saying!" This was how every conversation ended, with him bemoaning his inability to take care of his family and promising to change. Which he never did. "I'm saying that something had to be done about our difficulties."

He lifted his head to stare at her, looking like a little boy lost. "And so you stepped in as usual to do it."

"You gave me no choice," she said softly. "I saw a way to save us, and I took it." When he cast her a despairing glance, she stepped close to lay her hand on his. "Look, you've been talking about doing this for months. 'If we could only get some of the India trade,' you said. 'That India trade would get us flush,' you said. It was your plan."

"A stupid plan."

"No, it was a good plan. All I did was move it along a little."

"By making a pact with some devil of a lord-"

"He's not a devil," she said stoutly, "and we didn't make a pact." Did Hugh know about the wager? She cast a furtive glance at Sissy, who shook her head. Thank goodness. "Lord Jarret Plumtree is willing to help us with the East India captains. He's a competent brewer very familiar with the business."

Hugh snorted. "That's not what I heard."

"Well, you heard wrong. His grandmother had enough faith in him to put him in charge of her entire operation." She took his hands in hers. "And I have enough faith in you to believe you can make this work. If you could just-" She caught herself too late.

His eyes darkened to black. "Go ahead, say it. If I could just be more like Father."

"What? No! That is not what I meant to say." And she could curse Papa for everything he'd done to make Hugh this way.

"Of course it was." Jerking his hands from hers, he rose to pace. "You think I don't know what a disappointment I was to him? I know what you're thinking, you and Mr. Walters. That I can't save the brewery because I don't have the spine to deal with the likes of Ba.s.s and Allsopp, and yes, the East India captains."

She gaped at him, shocked that he even believed she felt that way. He had reasons for his feelings about Papa, but her? "I swear to you, I have no idea why you would-"

"Spare me, Annie." Grimly, Hugh headed for the decanter of whisky on the desk. "I see it in your eyes whenever you look at me. It bothers you that I can't be more like the great Aloysius Lake-"

"What bothers her," said a small voice from the door, "is the same thing that bothers all of us, Father."

She whirled to find Geordie standing there with a look of pure despair.

"It's the drinking." Geordie's gaze shot to Hugh's hand lifting the decanter. "It's always been the drinking."

Oh no, why on earth had Geordie decided to confront Hugh now?

Crossing his arms over his bony little chest, Geordie glared at Hugh. "I had to lie for you, Father. They had to tell Lord Jarret you were sick to get him to help us, so I had to lie because they lied."

Hugh stood frozen, his face carved in stone. Annabelle and Sissy had tried talking to him about his drinking before, but since it always sent him into an even worse retreat from the world, they'd given up.

Ignoring Geordie, Hugh shot Sissy a look of betrayal. "You told that blasted lord that I was ill?"

Geordie wouldn't be ignored. "Don't be angry at them. What else were they to say? That you were a drunk?" His face grew red with anger. "That you don't care about anything but that ... that d.a.m.ned whisky in your hand?"

This time Hugh looked at Geordie, really looked at him, and the blood drained from his face. "Is that what they told you, boy? That I'm a drunk?"

"They didn't tell me anything. But I'm not blind. I see how you spend your nights. We all do." He dragged in a pitiful breath. "You used to do things with us children. You used to p-play cards and take us on walks and ... You don't do anything but d-drink anymore."

Hugh set the decanter down. "Come here, boy."

Swallowing hard, Geordie approached him. "Yes, sir."

"So you went along with your aunt's and your mother's lies, did you?"