The Bellerose Bargain Read Online Free PDF Page B

recall my chore of finding and delivering Lord Seavers’s bride?" Alicia nodded. "Upon my return to her aunt’s humble manor I found that the old woman had died. ‘Twas no surprise to me, for I found her quite near her final breath the last time I saw her. But she is in fact gone, and Charlotte, blast the wench, is certainly gone too. No one could say whom she fled with or how she left. I’ve done my work, lass. I searched every small village near her home in the last month and not a soul saw her pass."
    Alicia sighed and kicked a bare foot in the dirt. "How does this have anything to do with me?"
    "A moment, maid Alicia. Charlotte Bellamy came from noble stock, that is true. And her inheritance is not rich by some standards, but to those of us who are not accustomed to wealth, it is enough to untangle the heaviest debts. Her upbringing, however, was far different from that of most courtly dames. Her aunt, a pinched and angry spinster living on a modest pension from her father, raised the girl without a thought to what would be acceptable behavior for a noblewoman. I doubt she could read or cipher as well as you."
    "And how are you sure I can?" she asked him. "No one else believes I’m able."
    Rodney chuckled tolerantly, for it was obvious that Alicia did not assume any connection between herself and this ghostly Charlotte. But the connection came clear to Rodney when he declared, in total frustration at the thought of delivering yet another disappointment to Geoffrey, that he wished he could take a lass as lovely and eager as Alicia to him instead.
    And why not?
    "What I propose, Alicia, is that you return to London with me under the name of Charlotte Bellamy."
    Alicia’s eyes grew round and disbelieving. "Are you mad? I don’t even know the wench."
    "Nor does anyone else," Rodney explained. "No one in London has ever seen her. There are those villagers who could describe her, but they would not venture to London—and for that matter would not be taken seriously if they did. There is no way to prove you are not Charlotte Bellamy."
    "I should ride from here with you, using a name not even my own, to marry some jackanape young nobleman, who’s spoiled and hungering for more money? On my death, sir, and no sooner. Let the brat find his own bride. I’ll not be tossed about another time."
    "The brat is a man of over thirty years and has fought in His Majesty’s service for twelve years. He has good reputation and a name that opens many doors. And Alicia, he is most handsome."
    "Then it’ll trouble him little to find a willing wench."
    Rodney released the purse at his belt and shook some coins into his hand. He counted them and returned most of them to the pouch. He stretched the purse out to her. "For a hundred pounds?"
    "A hundred pounds?" she returned. It was more money than she’d earn in her lifetime. Indeed, it was a lifetime’s worth of working hanging before her eyes. "A hundred pounds to marry the man? He must be a terrible wretch."
    "A hundred pounds to come with me to London. I won’t deceive his lordship. We’ll tell him forthrightly that Charlotte is gone and can’t be found, but you can stand in her stead without a soul noticing the exchange." He shrugged. "As I see it, the two of you can come up with a plan for Charlotte to die eventually, thus freeing Geoffrey to play with his fortune and ladies. That leaves you to do as you please, as long as you’re willing to do it out of England—or at least out of London. Once dead, you can’t be seen strolling about the ‘Change."
    "And if your young lord will have none of this?" she asked.
    "Then take your gold and start afresh anywhere you please."
    "I thought you were poor? If the man has a hundred pounds to throw away he can’t be suffering much."
    "Poverty is relative to the spender, lass. Geoffrey is too poor to buy a fleet of ships, but not too poor to dress finely and gamble large sums. He’s too poor to buy a country estate that encompasses