A Hellion In Her Bed Part 3

"Hodgson's has also stopped giving credit and raised its prices," she went on. "So the East India Company captains decided to cut out Hodgson's by finding a brewer to brew his sort of ale for them. They fixed on Allsopp's in Burton. His first shipment went out two years ago, and they've received nothing but glowing reports. It's a huge market that Lake Ale wants to get into. But we need help."

"My grandmother tried to compete in the India market years ago unsuccessfully."

"She was trying to sell Plumtree's October brew, right?"

He hesitated, then nodded.

"We've discovered that Burton water produces a better October brew than London water. Allsopp is putting half his export production into India pale ale. I could do the same if the East India Company captains would deal with Lake Ale, but they won't, because of my brother's"-she stopped just short of saying "unreliability"-"illness. And because I'm a woman. They don't trust us to come through, and I don't dare put it into production if they don't buy it. That's why I need you."

His eyes narrowed. "You want me to sell your ale to the Company captains."

She beamed at him. "Exactly. It could be advantageous for us both, compensating us for the losses we've both suffered ever since the Russians raised the tariffs on English ale."

"What makes you think we've suffered losses?" he drawled.

"Every brewery has suffered losses, and you know it."

Glancing away, he rubbed his hand over his chin. "It's an intriguing proposal."

"Then you'll consider it?"

His gaze met hers, full of regret. "No."

Her heart sank. Plumtree Brewery had been her only hope! "Why not?"

"For one thing, I've only been here a week, and I'm still a.s.sessing the situation. So I'm not going to launch into some foolhardy experiment, and certainly not just because a young brewster has a harebrained scheme-"

"It's not a harebrained scheme!" And at nearly thirty, she wasn't all that young. That was the trouble with being short-it misled people about one's age. "Ask anyone about Allsopp's success. I'm sure other London brewers have noticed. And I brew an excellent October beer-you admitted as much yourself !"

"There's more to it than that," he said in that patronizing tone she'd become so familiar with in dealing with the male brewery owners in Burton.

She thrust out her chin. "You mean, because I'm a woman."

"Because you're a brewer. Brewers look no further than their noses. They create a superior brew, and they think that's all it requires. But there are factors beyond the ale's quality. I'm sure your brother realizes that, which is why he didn't come himself."

"He didn't come because he's ill!" she cried.

"Then surely he sent a letter of introduction, putting you forward as his representative."

She swallowed. Of course he hadn't. Hugh thought that she and Sissy were in London to look at schools for Geordie. "He was too ill for that."

Lord Jarret merely arched an eyebrow.

Exasperated, she tried another tack. "For a man who gambles a great deal, you're certainly cautious about investing."

The corners of his lips twitched. "I see that my reputation precedes me."

"When you spend your time scandalizing society, you must expect people to talk about you. Though I can't imagine why. If you balk at a sure investment like this, you can't be too reckless or brave a gambler."

To her vast annoyance, a smile broke over his face, exposing not one, but two dimples in his cheeks. "My dear Miss Lake, such tactics may work on your hapless brother, but I have two sisters of my own. I can't be goaded quite so easily. Sticks and stones and all that."

Curse him for being such a ... a man. "Your grandmother would see the profit to be made from this plan. Your grandmother would understand."

The smile vanished. He stepped closer to loom over her, all six feet of him. "My grandmother isn't running this company at present. But even so, I doubt she'd approve."

She fought not to be intimidated by his sheer size. "How do you know, if you don't ask her?"

"I don't need to ask her."

"You just said you've only been here a week, and you're still sorting through things." She tried to stare him down, but his height made it more like staring him up. "You could be wrong about this, you know. I'd at least like to hear from her that Plumtree Brewery isn't interested."

"That's impossible. At the moment, she is-"

"Unavailable. I know. How convenient." She glared at him. "You ignore a perfectly good opportunity to make money because you can't be bothered. I wonder what your grandmother would think if she heard of it."

"Threats don't work on me either, Miss Lake. Now if you'll excuse me ..."

When he headed for the door, panic seized her. "Lake Ale is in a precarious position," she called out, "and all I ask is that you present my proposal to your grandmother. Why is that so difficult? If Lake Ale fails, forty men will lose their employment. My family will suffer, and-"

"Oh, for G.o.d's sake." He whirled to face her. "Will you be satisfied if I speak to my grandmother about your proposal?"

Hope sprang within her. "Yes. Though it might be better if I-"

"Not a chance. I'll present the idea tonight. But when she refuses to pursue it-as I'm sure she will-you'll accept that answer as final. Is that understood?"

She hesitated, then nodded. Really, he gave her little choice.

He swung the door open. "Come back tomorrow morning, and I'll tell you what she said. Good day, Miss Lake."

She bit down on her lip to keep from protesting his cursory dismissal. This was the best she would get from him; now she simply had to hope that he did as he promised.

As she descended the stairs, however, she wasn't at all sure that he would. He seemed determined to dismiss her plan. Why, he hadn't even heard about the disastrous situation with Hodgson's! He probably thought she was exaggerating the whole thing.

But if he spoke to his grandmother, he would learn ...

She sighed. That was a very great if.

Outside the brewery, she found Sissy and Geordie waiting on the steps for her. Sissy leaped up the moment Annabel approached, the hood of her cloak falling down to expose her pretty blond curls.

"Well?" she asked hopefully. "What did Mrs. Plumtree say?"

Annabel sighed. "She wasn't there. I spoke to her grandson."

"You met one of the famous h.e.l.lions of Halstead Hall?" Sissy's blue eyes lit with excitement. "Which one?"

"Lord Jarret."

"The gambler? Is he as handsome as they say? Did he have a look of dissipation about him?"

"Come to think of it, no." That was odd, given the scandalous stories told about him-how he'd once gambled for two days straight without sleeping, how he'd lost a thousand pounds in a single hour ... how he changed women as often as he changed his drawers.

That wasn't surprising, when he had eyes the color of the ocean and a lazy smile meant to make a woman shiver. Not that it did that to her. No indeed.

"Lord Jarret had a look of roguery about him," Annabel said stoutly.

"Then why on earth is his grandmother letting him run her brewery?"

"Because he's a man, of course. He gave me little hope of her being interested in my proposal, though he did promise to speak to her about it."

"Do you think he will?"

"I don't know. He's an annoying, arrogant fellow. I doubt he can be trusted to do anything. He acted as if I were imposing on him simply by suggesting a perfect way for his company to make money."

"That's because you shouldn't have been telling him what to do, Aunt Annabel," Geordie put in. "It's like Father always says, women-"

"I know what your father always says." That women didn't belong in breweries. That if she'd stop going to the brewery, some man might actually marry her.

She heartily wished Hugh wouldn't say such things in front of Geordie. Now the lad was taking up that cry himself, and Hugh knew why she didn't wish to marry. Because she'd have to leave Geordie behind. And how could she ever do that?

He was her son.

Of course, Geordie didn't know that. He didn't know that Annabel's fiance, Rupert, had sired him or that Annabel had borne him shortly after Rupert had died in battle. Geordie had been raised believing she was his aunt. And there was nothing Annabel could do about that-not if he were to have a life free of the stigma of b.a.s.t.a.r.dy.

But she could certainly make sure he was loved and cared for, even if the woman he called Mother wasn't her.

A sob clogged her throat, and she choked it down as always. Her son was growing up so quickly. One day, she and Sissy and Hugh would have to tell him the truth. When he was young, the three of them had thought it best to keep the secret quiet, for fear he would let it slip to someone. But lately Sissy had been saying they should tell him. That it was time.

It was time-she just couldn't bear to do it. He would be so hurt when he realized that his whole life had been a lie, that his real father was dead and his real mother was a wanton. And then he would blame her, and she might lose him forever. She just couldn't risk it. Not yet. Not until things were settled with Hugh.

A scowl touched her brow. What were they to do about Hugh? He got more hopeless by the day. The more melancholy he became, the more he drank and the less he cared what happened to the brewery. They'd hidden it so far, but eventually people would figure out that he missed so many days in the office and appointments with important vendors because he was drinking himself into a stupor in his study at home.

"You ought to listen to Father," Geordie said in the pompous tone he'd adopted after turning twelve. "He's only trying to help you get a husband before you get too old, you know."

"Geordie!" Sissy chided. "Don't be rude."

"I don't want a husband anyway, Geordie," Annabel said wearily.

That was a bald-faced lie. She wanted a husband and children and a home of her own, like any other woman. But what man would have her once he knew she was no longer chaste? And even if some fellow were understanding about her youthful love for Rupert, he wouldn't wish to take on her b.a.s.t.a.r.d. She'd have to leave Geordie behind, if only to spare him the cruelties of being branded illegitimate.

She couldn't bear that.

And she had no desire to bring scandal down upon Sissy and Hugh; they'd been good to her. Some families would have abandoned her entirely for her ... mistake.

"So what do we do now?" Sissy asked.

"We have no choice but to wait until tomorrow and see if Lord Jarret does as promised. Though I'd feel much better if I could speak to Mrs. Plumtree myself."

"Why can't you? Surely we could find out where she lives."

"If only we could." She thought through what Lord Jarret had said. "I'm not sure she's at home, anyway. He said something about her dealing with family concerns. She might be anywhere."

"Well, if he's going to consult with her, he has to go to where she is, doesn't he? We could just follow him."

Annabel gaped at Sissy, then caught her up in a hug. "You're brilliant! Yes, that's what we must do. Or rather, what I must do. He'd surely notice three of us following him. He won't notice one woman."

"You should let me do it," Geordie said, puffing out his chest.

"Absolutely not!" Sissy and Annabel said in unison. Then they laughed.

They'd always been in perfect accord when it came to Geordie. Annabel couldn't have asked for a better mother for her son. Sissy and Hugh had their own children, too-who were currently with Sissy's mother in Burton-but Sissy never treated Geordie any differently than she did the others.

Another woman might have resented having her sister-in-law's by-blow foisted upon her a year after her wedding, but not Sissy. She'd dreamed up the ruse of telling everyone that she and Annabel were going north to help a cousin cope with a long-term illness. Sissy had even gone so far as to write letters back to town about the child she bore. Then she had embraced the babe with utter joy, welcoming the grieving Annabel into their family, too.

In return, Annabel had adopted the role of doting aunt, helping to look after the children when she wasn't at the brewery trying to fill Hugh's soggy shoes.

"Geordie," Sissy said, ruffling the boy's straight brown hair, "let's leave this endeavor to Annabel, shall we?"

"Aww, Mother, stop that!" He shrugged off Sissy's hand with a scowl. "I'm not a boy anymore, you know."

"Oh, a big man now, is he?" Annabel teased.

"I am a man." He scowled at them both. He had Rupert's scowl. "Father says so."

"Well then," Annabel said, "you can take good care of your mother on the way back to the inn." They were staying close by, thank heavens. "I'm remaining here."

"Alone? Until after dark?" Sissy said, a hint of alarm in her voice.

"I'll be fine. Lord Jarret will surely leave in a couple of hours-he isn't exactly the diligent sort. There's plenty of shops across the street that give me a good view of the brewery. I'll dally in them until I see him come out." When Sissy still looked worried, she added, "I'll be careful, I promise."

"At least wear my cloak." Sissy stripped it off and handed it to her. "Perhaps if you keep it b.u.t.toned, with the hood up over your head, no one will realize you're a woman. You're so short, it even covers the bottom of your skirts."

At the very least, it would afford her some protection from the nippy air once the sun went down. "This may take me a while, you know," she said as she removed her bonnet and gave it to Sissy, then donned the cloak. "Once I find out where Mrs. Plumtree is, I'll have to get in to speak to her."

"After you're done, take a hackney back." Sissy pressed some money into her hand, along with the extra key to the inn room. "Don't even think about returning to the inn on foot."

Annabel stared at the coins, a lump forming in her throat. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this, Sissy. I'm sorry that my brother-"

"Shh," Sissy said softly. "It's not your fault. Anyway, Hugh is a good man when he isn't ... in the doldrums." She cast a furtive glance at Geordie, who was listening avidly as usual. "I'm sure you'll be able to convince Mrs. Plumtree to help us. And if you can give a new purpose to Lake Ale, it may even jog Hugh out of his melancholy state."

"We can only hope," Annabel said as she slid the money and key into the cloak pocket.

That was their plan, meager as it was. Hugh had seemed interested in entering the India market every time she'd mentioned it, but he was too sunk in drink to pursue it. So she and Sissy hoped to present him with a fait accompli wherein Plumtree Brewery agreed to do the marketing. Perhaps then he'd rouse himself to carry the scheme to fruition. It ought to be enough to turn Lake Ale around, which could do nothing but raise Hugh's spirits further.

They had the brewery manager's blessing, and she still hoped to gain Mrs. Plumtree's help, no matter what the woman's arrogant grandson said.

She set her shoulders. She would gain the woman's help, with or without Lord Jarret's approval. Because it might be the only way to ensure her family's survival.