"Am I? When was the last time you bedded a virgin?" Margaret knew she had his attention. "She loved you after, didnat she?"

"They all did."

"Of course, they did. That's how virgins are. They don't understand reality."

"So what are you saying? That I should marry, but never consummate the bloody thing because my wife might misunderstand my intentions?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm just trying to help you understand how ludicrous this idea is. If you need an infusion of funds, you have only to ask me for them. I'll give them without a thought and save you all this trouble and this girl all the coming heartache."

"You're too generous and too kind," Phillip said with more sarcasm than was necessary. The only time Margaret was generous or kind was when she wanted something in return. As for her offer of money, the inheritance from her late husband was pocket coin compared to what Phillip required to square his debts.

She wanted to try to talk him out of his decision, but she knew from his tone that further argument was futile. If she'd learned one thing about him after all this time, it was that he was a hardheaded, stubborn man who made up his mind and forged ahead without regard for the consequences. It was time to move on to more pressing matters. "So, Wessington, if you go through with this idiotic idea of yours, what of us?"

"What do you mean?"

"What's to become of us now that you're entering the state of holy matrimony?"

"Nothing's to become of us."

She gasped, unable to believe it. "We'll never see each other again?"

"Of course we will. We'll see each other all the time." He held out a hand, urging her back to the bed, all the while thinking of the coming changes and of how Jane Fitzsimmons's money had rescued his way of life. Things were working out perfectly. "I may be getting married, but that changes nothing."

Chapter Ten.

Jane had thought this day, the day after accepting a marriage proposal from a titled, handsome, powerful man, would be so much different. More romantic or more exotic.

Instead, she sat alone and stared out the window of her new bedroom, and her gaze followed the slope of the gardens as they dipped toward the River Thames. There were a few splotches of color down below, but for the most part, everything was gray and dreary. On a bright summer day, the view was probably spectacular, but for now, all she could see were fog and mist.

She had arrived at the Earl's home just outside London in the past hour, after receiving instructions from Thumberton advising her that the Earl wished her to retire to the new locale. His note said Wessington had a small, private estate just minutes outside the city, and Jane was expecting a nice-sized family home similar to the one she'd grown up in. As the new carriage swept her up the long, winding drive, she realized that nothing had prepared her for the incredible bit of architecture waiting at the end.

It seemed a palace to Jane, slightly rounded, with the outer wings curving as though it had two arms waiting to embrace new arrivals. There were three stories and twenty-five sets of windows across the front. Never having been inside such a place, she couldn't imagine how many rooms there must be.

The center court was full of wagons driven by teamsters who were unloading goods and furniture. The place was buzzing like a beehive from all the activity, and Wessington seemed to be already refurbishing the house.

The staff had received her politely, then shuffled her off to her rooms. Feeling left out and unneeded, she huddled quietly, trying to stay out of everyone's way. and wondering if anyone would remember she was there so they could offer her supper.

Upon waking early in the day, she'd advised Elizabeth about her acceptance of the Earl's proposal and told her that she could return home. Elizabeth had protested halfheartedly, but seemed relieved when Jane insisted she go. She left as soon as her bags were packed. Already, Jane was wishing she hadn't sent her away.

"You've made your bed ..." She sighed for the hundredth time and turned away from the window as a knock sounded at the door. She opened it to find Graves standing there.

"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite serving girl," he began with a friendly smile.

"Ah . . . You do remember! How terrible!"

"How could I forget the woman who possessed the courage to provoke Lady Margaret into a screaming fit?"

"Don't remind me," Jane said, pulling him into the room. "And if you ever tell anyone about it, I'll have you drawn and quartered."

"I believe you." They stared at each other for a moment, then burst into laughter. Graves gave her a mocking bow. "If I may be so bold, may I say: Well done on snagging the Earl."

"Don't pat me on the back too heartily. I think the color of my money had a great deal more to do with it than the way I batted my eyelashes."

"Don't sell yourself short, Lady Jane. I don't think all the money in the world would have moved him if it wasn't something he truly wanted to do."

"Really? Hmmm . . . I'll have to consider that. And, please, call me Jane. Drop the 'Lady' part. It sounds so silly. Everytime someone uses it, I find myself looking round, trying to see if there's another person standing behind me."

"Jane, it is, then. And call me John."

"Hello, John. It's so nice to see a friendly face. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to facilitate, "he said the word in an exaggerated way that made her laugh, "the coming festivities."

"I'm so glad. I wasn't sure what was to happen next."

"I'll be here to guide you through it. And Master Thumberton will arrive shortly with papers and instructions. I thought you might like to freshen up a bit and perhaps have a bite to eat before he arrives."

"I was wondering if I'd ever be fed. I had visions of everyone forgetting I was here, and I'd be found years from now, nothing but a starved skeleton."

"This place is intimidating, isn't it?"

"For the likes of me, it certainly is."

"Wait until you get to Rosewood and the other country estates."

"I was afraid you'd say something like that."

"Well, first thing first. I've taken the liberty of finding you an abigail. The Earl said you hadn't brought one from home."

"I've never had one. I'd be too embarrassed to start now."

"The Earl will insist, I'm afraid."

"But, I wouldn't know how to act."

"Well, your maid will. Her name is Meg, and she's a great friend of mine. She's worked and lived around the Quality for a good many years, so she'll be a terrific help at answering all your questions and getting you moving in the right direction. She's had a good bit of education, too, so I think the two of you will get on famously."

"When do I meet her?"

"Now, if that's all right."

"Certainly."

Graves opened the door and motioned into the hall. Meg entered, a plump, pretty thing who looked Irish with her reddish hair and blue eyes. She smiled through her curtsy, and dimples graced her cheeks. From the way Graves was looking at her, Jane wondered if there was more between the two of them than he'd led her to believe.

Meg rose. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Lady Jane."

"Not so formal, Meg. Just 'Jane' will do nicely."

"All right." She smiled good-naturedly. "Now then, let's get you prettied up for your meeting with the solicitor, and you can show all those old bats downstairs just who it is they're dealing with."

Without waiting for comment or protest from Jane, she shoved John out the door, and an hour later Jane descended the long, sweeping staircase for her meeting with Dudley Thumberton. Meg had efficiently redone her hair and reworked her dress by adding a scarf and tugging at the bodice to expose some cleavage. Since Jane's father had always felt that money was wasted on excessive clothing, and that what a person wore should be extremely discreet, Jane felt pretty but scandalously clad.

Thumberton waited in the library. As she entered, he was seated behind the desk, looking through papers in a file. "Hello, Master Thumberton."

"Ah . . . Miss Fitzsimmons." He smiled broadly.

"Please call me Jane," she requested as she crossed the room.

"Then you must simply call me Thumberton. Everyone does." He came around the desk and bowed over her hand. "I say, you're looking lovely. Becoming engaged has had a marvelous effect on you."

"I doubt if that's the cause, sir. Everything's happened so fast I can hardly fathom that I've a marriage in the near future."

"Hardly time to catch your breath, eh?"

"Not a second."

"That's Wessington for you. When he makes up his mind about something, there's no stopping him." He held out a chair. "Sit, my dear. Sit while we talk."

"He does move quickly, doesn't he? I can't believe all the activity 'round here. Is he further extending himself financially in preparation for the wedding?"

"Well . . . ah . . . you see .. . ah . . ."

Jane was amused to see how her question flustered the solicitor. He was probably not used to women asking questions about finances or women asking questions about their husbands' actions. She reached across the desk and patted his hand. "It's quite all right, Thumberton. I expect I know a great deal more about finances than the Earl ever will, so you might as well get used to my asking,"

"Yes, I suppose you're right." He took out a handkerchief and mopped at his brow. "That's probably for the best actually. He's never taken much interest in the financial side of things."

"I'd say that's the root of all his problems."

"I agree wholeheartedly." He looked around the room, as though the Earl might be lurking behind the drapes listening to his admissions.

Jane laughed gently as she recognized the panicked look on his face. "Don't be so worried, sir. Perhaps we could forge our own working relationship and use it as a way to keep the Earl on the right track."

"How so?"

"We could have frank discussions about finances, and we can both work from different angles to make sure that we stay in the black."

Thumberton breathed a sigh of relief. Jane was turning out to be everything he'd hoped for. He reminded himself to say another small prayer of thanks when he retired for the evening. "I would have to say that your idea is an exceptionally good one. Since you will be charged with managing the household accounts anyway, you might as well see the entire picture. You'll be better able to judge when and what to spend."

"My thoughts exactly." She leaned forward again, and they shook hands to seal their bargain. "So tell me, is the Earl going into further debt to prepare for the wedding? Because if I'm the cause of all this spending, he certainly doesn't need to be doing it."

"He has a heavy responsibility to the properties. They've been seriously neglected for decades. I imagine he'll be spending quite a bit getting things squared away. Once you've been married for a while, you'll begin to understand his duty to the land and all the people who depend on him."

"I have some idea of it now, and I know I'll learn more, so, yes, I understand that he has a duty to the estates. But that's not my question. How is he paying for all of this?"

Thumberton almost seemed embarrassed when he answered. "Actually, the money has already changed hands."

"But I haven't signed the papers yet."

"Your signature was not required. Your father sent me a signed contract months ago."

"Months ago?"

"Yes. All I needed was the Earl's signature."

"Let me see the contract."

He hesitated, then said, "I guess that would be all right."

Jane took her time looking through the pages, scanning the words and terms. She'd understood that her father had done this because of Gregory, but now, to learn that he'd had this plan in the works for months! It was hard to grasp the depth of this latest betrayal.

Thumberton studied her intently. "I'm sorry. I thought you realized about the money."

"I just thought I'd be signing. Along with the Earl. That he'd be here today. Will I be seeing him?"

"No. You'll probably not see him until the day of the wedding. Now that the money is in his accounts, he's dreadfully busy."

"Really? Too busy to see his fiancee before the ceremony? After all, I've only spoken to the man twice in my life."

Thumberton, more than anyone, wanted Jane to have as limited a view of Phillip as possible before the joining. Although the contracts were signed, and she couldn't back out, there was always a chance she might try to refuse to go through with the ceremony. No sense letting her get too close a look. "Don't take this personally, Jane."

"Why shouldn't I? This is my life we're talking about. When is the wedding to be? Or don't I need to know?" Her tone was angry and accusatory, but she felt she had every right to be upset. It was her wedding, too, not just his. Perhaps he could have consulted her about a few of the insignificant details, like which day it would be held.

"Please don't be perturbed," Thumberton said to quiet her. "Because the ceremony needed to be held so quickly, Phillip felt it was best if he took the matter in hand. It's been scheduled for two weeks from today."

"Has he selected my dress?"

"No. He's left that to your discretion."

"How kind."

"However, he has arranged for the woman who will create it for you. She's to visit you tomorrow and will begin working on your bridal gown and your trousseau. Currently, she's the most sought-after seamstress in London. Phillip wishes you to be most fashionably accommodated."

"Nothing but the best will do for his new bride, I suppose."

"Exactly."

"I believe I understand the situation." Jane shook her head. "Is there anything else I should know before I blindly follow all of you down this path?"

"There is one other matter. I regret that I must be the one to discuss it with you, but I'm afraid the matter can't be avoided." He cleared his throat, turned bright red, cleared his throat again, shuffled through some papers. "Ah . . . the Earl insists that you be tested ..."

He was too embarrassed to finish the sentence. During their meeting the previous night, when Phillip had dragged him out of bed and begun giving him pages of tasks that needed immediate attention, he'd insisted that Jane agree to it. Thumberton had tried to get him to see reason, but Phillip's past still hung too heavily around his neck.