Pendragon (Sherbrooke Brides 7)

He wanted to kick himself for just spitting that out. He arched a brow and tried to look supercilious. “Do you think you’re worth ten thousand pounds?”

She sighed. “I’ve lived all my life never knowing hunger or want. If I saw a bolt of material that pleased me, I would order it. My father spent so much money on my Season in London and I never even thought about it.” She sighed. “I didn’t even find a husband. After Jeremy—” Her voice dropped like a stone off a cliff.

21

HE SAID, VERY carefully, unable to help himself, “What do you mean, ‘after Jeremy’?”

“Forget Jeremy. He’s just an almost dratted cousin, nothing more. The fact is that I’m pitiful, Thomas, and I never realized it until now. No, truth be told, I’m not worth anywhere near that many groats. I think you got a pig in a poke.”

“No,” he said, “I got a Sherbrooke with beautiful blue eyes that she’ll pass along to our children.”

“Yes, I will try. I’m sorry, Thomas.”

Thomas stopped, looked at her, an eyebrow arched up. “Whyever are you sorry?”

“I’m very sorry if you were poor after your father divorced your mother.”

“Never hunger or real want, Meggie. My uncle was at low ebb the last twenty years of his life, but he took my mother and me in, and he did it gladly, generously. He was a fine man. I will tell you something though. It’s a sorry thing when there are people depending on you and you have to think and scheme and dicker with all sorts of very distasteful men to get together enough money to see to their needs. That was true for me until two years ago. That was when my first ship arrived back in Genoa from China.” He took her arm and they continued up the stairs. The stairs creaked beneath their feet. There was a thread-worn Turkish carpet tacked down to the steps. Ancient, by the looks of it. “I wonder how many feet have walked on this rug?”

That got his attention. “I’ve wondered that myself. I think when I was about thirteen years old I decided that several armies had stayed here, bringing the feet up to at least five thousand.”

“That sounds about right. Two armies?”

“Cromwell came twice. The first time he failed, but not the second time.”

“Oh. I didn’t tell you that my aunt Sinjun was an heiress. Actually she was one of the premiere heiresses in all of England. She married a Scottish earl who was so poor his castle was near to falling down about his ears. She saved him. Do you think perhaps that I am saving you just a bit? You could consider me another one of your ships sailing into port, all loaded with wonderful goods?”

“You’re more than one ship, Meggie. When I think of your goods, my toes curl.” He gave her the wickedest grin imaginable.

“I like the sound of that. Now, about your goods—”

He kissed her hard and fast, then straightened. “Also, my father was very well off, Meggie. Together, you have made me rich indeed. Generations to come will bless your dowry.”

Down at the very end of a long, dim, very wide corridor that echoed and another threadbare Turkish carpet over oak planks that creaked, lay the master bedchamber. Actually, it was a suite of rooms, she heard Thomas say from behind her. The master bedchamber, she saw, was so dismal that she had to swallow and seam her lips together to keep back a moan of disappointment. She shouldn’t have been surprised after that drawing room. But still, she was. The large room was filled with heavy old furniture, tattered draperies, miles and miles of bare oak plank floor leading to a mammoth bed that sat on a three-foot dais. If anything, it was more depressing than the drawing room. She said finally, her arms crossed over her chest, “It is certainly a very big room, Thomas. There is an extraordinary amount of floor.”

“There is a dressing room in there with a nice big copper tub, then another bedchamber beyond, which would be your bedchamber, I suppose.”

The dressing room was small and dark and smelled of camphor balls. The bedchamber beyond surprised her. When she opened the door, she had to blink because the sun was flooding in so brightly. Where had the storm gone? She would have sworn it was still battering the area, given the dankness of every other room she’d seen in Pendragon, but not this room. It was white, pure white, no other color, and it made you want to fling your arms out and whirl about.

She walked to the middle of the room, standing on a thick white carpet that covered nearly all the floor in this airy room. “Oh my,” she said.

“You weren’t expecting this. It’s called, originally enough, the White Room.”

“No. I like it very much, Thomas.” She paused a moment, not knowing exactly how one spoke of this, and Thomas said, “Just spit it out, Meggie.”

“My father and Mary Rose share a bedchamber. So do my uncles and their wives. I’ve seen Uncle Colin carry Aunt Sinjun into his bedchamber over his shoulder. I’ve always believed that was the way things were done. Do you think we could do that as well?”

“You wish to share a bedchamber with me?” he asked slowly, and knew he was stupid to feel the leap of hope.

“Well, yes. How can I improve upon you if I don’t have you with me?”

“It would be well nigh impossible. I need improvement?”

“Oh yes, but I will say that I truly believe in ten years you will become the perfect man.”

“Only ten years?”

“I’ve always been an optimist.”