Chapter 10

A Week or so Later

Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you to Northampton today, my lady?" Io's maid, Moira asked for at least the fifth time, her hands shaking slightly as she twisted Io's hair into a clever arrangement that made it appear as if it was longer than it was.

She met the younger woman's eyes in the mirror. "Moira, I told you to take today off and yet here you are working. Not only have you turned down a free day, but you have asked me over and over about accompanying me. Tell me what has happened."

Moira made a small squeaking sound. "Nothing, my lady. I promise you."

"Who told you that you needed to accompany me? Come. You can tell me. I will not be angry with you, I promise."

Moira chewed the inside of her cheek, her chest moving rapidly, just like a rabbit's.

"Was it Miss Barrymore?"

"No, my lady. Not her."

Io smiled and suspected it was not a pleasant expression when the younger woman winced. "Was it Mr. Masterson?"

Moira opened her mouth, but then closed it, and nodded.

"You do not need to do anything he says, Moira. I am your employer."

"Oh, my lady!" she wailed. "He is so stern and forbidding! When he looks at me with those cold eyes of his I feel as if he is seeing right into my soul an' taking note of all my sins."

Io was familiar with the expression; it had a similar effect on her.

Moira hurried on, "I don't want to make him angry—nor His Grace, either." She paused and then blinked. "And Mr. Masterson is quite right. You should not go about unattended," she said, her sudden flare of righteous indignation impressing Io.

"I won't be alone," she said, not entirely telling the truth. "I'm going to Northampton with my brother, Mrs. Dryden, Miss Barrymore, and Miss Barclay. That means four other people will accompany me. I assure you, Moira, both my person and my virtue will be well-protected."

The maid nodded, but reluctantly.

"But I would like to make one matter clear to you."

Moira's shoulders tensed again. "Yes, my lady?"

"In the future, if anyone tells you how to behave in my employ, I want you to tell me immediately."

"Even His Grace?"

"Yes, even the duke."

Moira swallowed hard, but then nodded. "Yes, my lady."

Io smiled. "Good. Now, you can finish my hair."

***

Corbin had just shrugged into his coat when there was a knock on the door and Harold, one of the footmen, entered his chambers. "Sorry to disturb you, sir, but I'm to tell you that Miss Barrymore will not be able to accompany your party to Northampton."

Corbin picked up his hat and gloves. "Why not?"

"She has sprained her ankle and Miss Barclay is staying to wait on her."

Lucky Miss Barclay,he thought. Aloud, he said, "I hope it is not bad?"

"She says not, sir." Harold held out a sheaf of papers. "I am to give you these."

Corbin was unsurprised to see they were lists written in Miss Barclay's neat handwriting.

He nodded and tucked the papers into his satchel, which already contained many other lists. "You can assure her that I will take care of these."

"Thank you, sir."

As Corbin made his way toward the stairs he hated to admit it, but he was glad Miss Barrymore wasn't accompanying them. While he got on with the woman just fine, there was no denying that she set the hackles up on every Hale except the duke. And, some days, Corbin wasn't so sure of that.

He was pulling his gloves on when he saw the group waiting in the foyer.

All eyes turned toward him as he descended the stairs. "Miss Barrymore has suffered a mishap and sprained her ankle. I have her list of warehouses and shall bring samples back for her."

Corbin almost laughed at the various expressions that greeted his pronouncement.

Lord Balthazar looked elated.

Mrs. Dryden looked concerned.

And Lady Io looked furious.

Corbin suspected that last expression was due to his presence rather than Miss Barrymore's absence.

"I hope the injury is not severe," Mrs. Dryden said.

"No, not severe," he said, amused that such a question never occurred to the other two.

Lady Io gave him a long, hard look, but then turned on her heel and marched out of the foyer.

A short time later the four of them were in the ducal coach and heading to the train station when Lady Io launched her first strike.

"So, you add interior décor to your formidable repertoire of skills, Mr. Masterson," she said before they'd even left the driveway.

"Do I have a formidable repertoire?" Corbin asked. "I wasn't aware that I did. I am flattered that you have such a high opinion of me, my lady."

Lady Io snorted.

They rode in silence for a few moments.

Once again it was Lady Io who broke it. "Were you born and raised in these parts, Mrs. Dryden?"

"No, I'm from Plymouth."

"You'll have to excuse my ignorance, but I'm afraid I'm not yet familiar with all the cities. Where is Plymouth?"

"It is in Devonshire. On the coast," Corbin said. And then turned to Mrs. Dryden. "One of the original counties listed in Doomsday Book, I believe."

Mrs. Dryden gave him an approving smile. "Yes, that is correct. You've been studying our country, I see."

"My brother tests Masterson weekly," Lady Io retorted before Corbin could respond, her eyes taunting as they settled on him. "For every question he gets wrong, Zeus bends him over the desk and gives him a swat with a ruler."

Mrs. Dryden looked stunned and even Lord Balthazar's jaw sagged at his twin's outrageous comment.

Corbin was the only one who was not rendered speechless by her audacity. After all, compared to having his cock grabbed—twice—this was a mild assault, and only a verbal one at that.

He smiled faintly and said, "Only three swats this past week—much better than the four I received the week before."

Lady Io merely snorted and turned away from him, looking out the window.

"Er, may I see the list of what we are shopping for today, Mrs. Dryden?" Lord Balthazar asked in a forced tone.

The rest of the carriage ride—indeed, the train ride as well—was uneventful. Corbin brought a book with him but could not have said what he'd read as his eyes insisted on drifting toward Lady Io, who was also reading. Or pretending to, at least, while her brother and the housekeeper chattered about the scenery or other innocuous matters.

It was not until they disembarked in Northampton that Lady Io once again primed her cannons.

"What time shall we meet back here?" she asked her brother.

"Before six-thirty, which is when the last train leaves."

Lady Io nodded and turned to leave.

"I will accompany you, my lady," Corbin said.

She whirled on him so speedily that he thought she must have anticipated his offer. "I do not require a minder, Mr. Masterson." Corbin opened his mouth, but she wasn't finished. "Bal, please inform Mr. Masterson that I do not need a nursemaid."

Lord Balthazar regarded Corbin with amusement. "It's true, Masterson; my sister no longer requires a nursemaid."

Lady Io made a face at her brother's jocular tone.

"Duly noted, my lord," Corbin said. "I shall not attempt to feed her or change her nappy." He added blandly, "His Grace would be most displeased with me if I were to allow your sister to gallivant around Northampton unaccompanied."

"Gallivant?" Lady Io shrieked.

Corbin had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. Lady Io could always be counted on to snap at any hook he dangled before her, regardless of the bait.

"What sort of shops did you have planned for today, my lady? I would be happy to escort you to any you desire," he could not resist goading.

"Believe it or not, Masterson, women do have interests other than shopping," she retorted.

"Oh, such as what?" Corbin asked, diverted when Lord Balthazar and the housekeeper exchanged a quick, speaking look, and then scurried away, leaving the two of them to their bickering.

"What I have planned is none of your business," she snapped and then stormed down the street.

Corbin easily fell into step beside her.

"Why are you following me? I thought you were Edith's errand boy," she said after they'd walked in silence for a few moments.

"It is true that I have many errands planned."

"You won't get them done following me around."

"No, probably not," he agreed mildly.

"Edith will be very displeased with you if you fail to measure up to the mark, Mr. Masterson. I daresay you will feel the brunt of that displeasure."

"Fortunately, Miss Barrymore does not spank me nearly as hard as the duke does."

Lady Io stopped, turned to him, and gawked up at him.

It was damned difficult to remain expressionless, but Corbin achieved it. "Yes, my lady?"

She resumed walking, muttering something under her breath.

Corbin took advantage of her distraction to enjoy a quick grin. You are not the only one who can say shocking things, Io Hale.

They walked for perhaps a minute before she stopped and whirled on him. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because gently bred young ladies don't go about town unaccompanied," Corbin explained—not for the first time—allowing his annoyance to show. "Why didn't you bring your maid if you did not want my company?"

She raised a hand and, for a moment, Corbin thought she might hit him. Instead, she poked him in the chest with her forefinger. "That reminds me. Don't ever talk to my servant behind my back again," she hissed, her eyes more green than brown today.

Corbin shook off the bizarre observation and said, "Very well."

Lady Io blinked at his easy acquiescence, her chest rising and falling in a way that tempted Corbin to lower his gaze—she had a magnificent bosom—but he exerted his will and resisted the urge.

"I am going to meet with some people called Mr. and Mrs. Taylor," she said, surprising him with her confidence. "They are part of an organization that maintains connections with the Ladies Aid Association. They invited me to talk with them about our New York City office and how we manage various campaigns and issues. I will probably be there for several hours. There will be no place for you to wait for me as it is their house. So, you might as well go off on your errands now and not waste precious time."

"I will escort you to their establishment. And—if you give me your word that you will wait for me to return for you—I will let you have your meeting without lingering around their door."

Corbin could almost hear her teeth grinding.

"Fine," she snapped. "I estimate our work will take three hours. But if it takes longer, you will just have to wait."

Corbin nodded. "Understood."

She continued her forthright striding, not speaking another word to him.

And when they reached the Taylors' house she strode up the walk without a backward glance.

Corbin watched as the Taylors' servant closed the door behind her before taking out his watch and sighing.

He had at least eight shops to visit, and barely three hours to get it all done.

***

Even though Io had spent the prior four hours working, she felt invigorated and revivified by the end of her meeting with the Taylors. Her brain, which had gathered cobwebs since leaving New York, was suddenly clear and functioning again.

And then she bid the Taylors goodbye, stepped out onto the stoop, and saw Corbin Masterson waiting for her across the street and all her goodwill fled.

"Where are all your parcels?" she asked in a catty voice as he trotted across the street and easily matched her stride.

"Everything I purchased will be delivered," he said, not looking at all perturbed that Io had—purposely, at least for the last half hour—kept him waiting on the street.

"Did you finish all your errands?"

"No."

"Edith will not be pleased, but I am beginning to believe you enjoy her spankings."

"You seem obsessed with the subject of me and spankings, my lady."

For some reason, his words reminded her of those two evenings—one in the library and one at the schoolhouse—when she had behaved extremely badly. She hated to admit it, but she had woken up more than once in the intervening nights recalling how his erection had felt in her hand.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, the question thankfully pulling her from yet more contemplation of his penis.

"The Taylors fed me." After a moment, basic manners made her ask, "Have you eaten?"

"No. But I am not hungry. Where are we going next?"

"You are going to insist on accompanying me," she said.

"Yes," he said, although it hadn't been a question.

"Fine. I am looking for a bookstore. I wish to purchase some books for the school."

"I passed one earlier today. It is not far."

Io grunted.

"How was your meeting?" he asked.

Io cut him a sideways glance. "Are you really interested, or just making conversation."

"Can't it be both?"

She considered saying something scathing, but decided she was still in too good a mood, and the day was far too pretty to argue.

***

Corbin was surprised when she answered him. "It was an excellent meeting. The Taylors were grateful for the information I brought from our physicians and we worked together to adapt our pamphlet to their needs. They also shared some interesting findings regarding early childhood nutrition." Her lips flexed into a dispirited moue. "It is only the two of them in the area, most of the larger organizations are in the urban centers. Their work has made them targets for rural ruffians, men who are opposed to women gaining some degree of bodily autonomy."

Corbin could imagine.

"It is unfortunate that the Taylors do not have a physician allied to their group just now as their last one died and none of the new doctors in the area—most of them young—are willing to risk their positions to help."

Corbin could imagine that, too.

She paused and then added, "If Zeus would agree to throw his name and influence behind our cause, I daresay doctors would be falling over themselves to help the Taylors."

"Probably," Corbin agreed.

"But he won't, will he?"

She sounded glum, rather than combative, and—for some reason—that gave him a pang. He realized with some surprise that he did not like to see her spirit dimmed.

"I think His Grace will not openly champion such a matter, but that does not mean he might not help in more subtle ways." As you should be thinking of doing, Corbin wanted to add, but—for once—did not.

She stopped and set a hand on his arm to bring him to a halt, as if this conversation was too important to carry out while walking. "Really? Such as?"

"He is not unsympathetic to the hardships that women—especially poorwomen—face, my lady. He might be persuaded to donate money, if not influence." Corbin tried to soften the blow. "At least not at this point. His Grace has not even taken his seat in Parliament. There are people—powerful ones—who would be displeased if he were to commence dabbling in politics before he is formally inducted. In any case, he must find his way before he can commit himself."

Rather than rail at him, Lady Io nodded thoughtfully, and they resumed walking. "I will have to wait until he is no longer angry with me."

"He is not angry with you."

"Oh, yes he is. He was furious about my plans to lease a house."

"He might have been unhappy at the time, but I've known your brother for most of my life. He is not the sort of man who remains angry for long. Nor does he hold a grudge."

She made a noncommittal noise.

"All His Grace truly wants is to get to know the five of you."

"Perhaps he should have gone about that without releasing Edith into our lives. Or using money to control us."

"Perhaps."

Her eyebrows shot up. "I cannot believe that youagree with that."

"I don't agree—or disagree." She rolled her eyes and Corbin explained, "There are no only right or only wrong approaches, my lady. Who am I to say what he should do? I think he is finding his way in a new and complex situation, just as the rest of you are. He has been forced to face a great many changes in a short period of time. There was the discovery that he is a peer who is responsible for hundreds of people an ocean away and then there was meeting five siblings for the first time at the age of thirty-seven. It is likely that not all his decisions will be the best ones, but his motivations are honorable.

"I agree he has a great deal to contend with, but so do the five of us. We might have accepted the various strictures he has imposed with more grace if not for the addition of Edith, and her strictures, as well. Why involve another person in such a situation?"

"Because Miss Barrymore will be his wife and an integral part of his life. It is only natural that he wants her to meet his siblings," Corbin said, unwilling to engage in tearing down his best friend's chosen mate.

"Come, Masterson. You cannot honestly tell me that you want him to marry her? I know you find her admirably ladylike, but does that make up for her brutal treatment of her subordinates? Like her cousin, for example. Do you have no sympathy for poor Miss Barclay?"

Miss Barrymore's treatment of her cousin was a raw spot that just became more inflamed the longer he was forced to watch. But it felt too disloyal to Hastings to admit as much, and so he said, "Miss Barclay is an adult woman, is she not?"

"I know what you are getting at, and I agree that part of the blame is hers for staying with Edith and enduring such abuse. However, I do not know Miss Barclay's circumstances. Perhaps she cannot leave easily? Perhaps there is nowhere else for her to go? In any case, Miss Barclay's refusal to simply leave her position does not excuse Edith's behavior."

Corbin glanced at a sign just ahead of them and grasped at it as if it were a lifeline. "I know we are headed to the bookstore. But might we stop here—briefly? It is a silversmith's shop that your brother wished me to visit for him. Perhaps you might assist me in matching this pattern, my lady?"

She stared at him for a moment before snorting. "Fine—but next is the bookstore." Io paused and then added. "Since you waited so patiently for me at the Taylors' house, I will accompany you on a few of your errands. But only until five o'clock, Mr. Masterson. And then I would like to see a bit of the town."

Corbin nodded. "We have a bargain."

***

Io hated to admit it, but she had rarely enjoyed an afternoon shopping as much as she had today. Watching Mr. Masterson in action was rather like watching a virtuoso musician or athlete. His lists were organized and sensible. He was efficient and quick without ever being rude to any of the shopkeepers he dealt with. And, best of all, he never dithered about his purchases.

They'd just left the stationer's shop when Masterson pointed to a tiny coffee shop next door. "Would you like to stop for a cup?"

"Yes, please," Io said.

The shop was mostly empty so late in the day, so their waitress quickly brought their pastries and coffee.

Io watched with amusement as Masterson spooned a copious amount of sugar into his coffee, added a generous dollop of milk, and then took a sip and sighed in contentment—almost smiling.

When he saw Io watching him, faint slashes of color streaked his cheeks and he said, "Coffee is one of my vices."

"Sugar, too, apparently."

The stern Mr. Masterson looked almost sheepish at her accusation.

"As vices go, neither are especially bad," Io teased, taking a sip of her own coffee, which she drank black. "Did you notice that the plaque on the door said this business has been in continuous operation since 1668?"

Masterson nodded. "The seventeenth century was something of a heyday for coffee shops." He glanced around at the timbered ceiling and ancient wood floor, which was deeply worn from the tread of untold feet. "It is easy to see why Europeans view Americans as barely leaving our infancy as a nation."

"There are people in our country who have far deeper roots than any English aristocrat," Io pointed out.

He blinked at that, and then said, "You are right, of course. While the indigenous population of the Americas left far subtler footprints than we Europeans, their ancient history is indisputable."

"I am impressed that you recognize their contribution," Io said, not lying. "It is unusual."

"You mean it is unusual in a man of business," he said, his lips twisting faintly. Before Io could respond, he said, "I spent nine months traveling from the coast to the interior of the Canadian Territory, and then returning to New York by river."

"Just to explore?" she asked, pleasantly surprised.

"My father sent me to formalize a timber agreement, but I extended my trip to do some exploring." He paused, his gray eyes going vague and his stern features softening slightly. "It is a magnificent, awe-inspiring landscape that is still home to people who have been living the same way for a thousand years."

Io thought he looked like a different man. Almost tranquil.

But then he noticed her staring and shook himself, taking a sip of his coffee before saying, in his usual proper manner, "It was most educational."

But Io wasn't ready yet to let that other, less formal, man escape quite so easily.

She propped her chin on her hand and looked him in the eyes. "Tell me what you saw, Masterson. Tell me about the things that amazed you."

To her astonishment, he did. And for the next quarter of an hour, Mr. Masterson lost his rigid mask of reserve and came alive. His love for the wilderness and the people he'd encountered was obvious. It was a side of him Io would never have imagined existed.

By the time they left the coffee shop and headed back into the shopping fray, Io was more in charity with him than she had ever imagined possible.

She should have known it would never last.