The Earl's Bargain (Historical Regency Romance) by Cheryl Bolen

door behind him.
    The clerk had announced him as Lord Wycliff.
Mr. Twining met the peer with a broad smile on his round face.
"What can I do for you today, my lord?"
    "I'll not beat around the bush, Twining. I
want Wycliff House back, and I'm ready to negotiate with the proper
owner."
    The smile of Mr. Twining's face faded. "I
will, of course, convey your wishes to the owner."
    "And who would that be?" Harry asked.
    Mr. Twining coughed. A more false cough
Harry had never heard.
    "I must exercise a solicitor-client
privilege in not communicating that information to you, my
lord."
    "Come, Twining, every man has his price.
What's yours? How much do I have to pay you to get the address of
the owner of my former home?"
    He withdrew a bag of gold coins and set it
on the solicitor's desk.
    Mr. Twining looked from the coins to Harry,
his eyes glassy. Sweat beaded on his brow. Then he shook his head.
"I'm an honorable man. I shall not disclose such privileged
information."
    Harry wasn't used to being turned down.
Everyone had a price, but he knew this man would not bend. Not
because he was honorable.
    Because he was scared. The last time Harry
had seen such fear on a man's face was when he'd been prepared to
run a sword through the man.
     

Chapter 5

    The return journey to Grosvenor Square was
solemn. Mrs. Phillips had obviously been as disappointed as he.
Oddly, her sorrow disturbed Harry more than his own. Even if he
never regained Wycliff House, his comfortable life would continue
much the same. When Louisa Phillips left Wycliff House, a bleak
future was all she could expect. Where would she live? What would
she do for money?
    For Harry knew the contemptible scoundrel
who had been Louisa Phillips's husband had left her nothing. How
could a man be so dishonorable?
    Louisa's estrangement from her family, he
had learned, was irrevocable. Her parent was as loathsome as her
husband had been. How could they have played her so cruelly? What
was a woman of gentle birth to do when thrust into London with
neither money nor the protection of a husband? Other women in the
same deplorable circumstance -- especially a woman as beautiful at
the widow Phillips -- would seek to marry, but not Louisa Phillips.
She was not like other women.
    She hated men.
    Harry spent the better part of the coach
ride trying to determine how he could help the unfortunate widow.
The problem was that she was too bloody proud. She would never
accept his charity. He must think of a way to help her
anonymously.
    He flicked a glance to her. And his heart
could have bled for the somber desperation he saw on her troubled
face. It was all he could do not to gather her into his arms and
comfort her.
    God, but he wanted to!
    When he left her at the door to Wycliff
House, he merely said, "We must think of some way to extricate you
from this situation." His knuckle nudged under her chin as he
lifted her face to meet his gaze. "Don't despair."
    * * *
    As foolish as it seemed, Lord Wycliff's
words gave her hope. She felt less forlorn as she mounted the
stairs to Godwin's chamber.
    Though it was late afternoon, his bedchamber
was as dark as a cave. Louisa shivered as she entered it. The cold
was only partly responsible for her shivers. She told herself the
room was cold because there had been no fires in the room since
he'd died. A chill slid along her spine as she crossed the room and
opened the heavy red draperies. She disliked this room ever so
much. As she had disliked the man who had inhabited it.
    Instead of experiencing exultation from her
liberation, she cowered in fear, half expecting Godwin's corpulent
presence to show itself.
    She had never remembered the room smelling
so foul. It was a stale odor that reminded her of death. He had
died here.
    Now that the room was flooded with daylight,
she could expunge Godwin from her memory. The eight years with him
had been but a bad dream. She would never again have to lie beneath
him. He was dead. And she was free.
    She began to