“How much was it?”
He stopped again, looked down at her, and said slowly, “One doesn’t speak of that to a lady, surely you know that.”
“No, I don’t know that at all. I was bought. Isn’t it fair that I know my price?”
“You weren’t bought.”
“My father paid for me, thus I was bought. Come on, now. Spit it out. How much, Thomas?”
“Dammit. Ten thousand pounds.”
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.
* * *
Chapter 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 threadworn 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,