Page 46 of Hold Me Fast
“I am considering making Mrs. Mayhew an offer,” she said. “She needs a place to live, and I need a respectable lady to live with me.”
Evangeline thought it an excellent idea. Bran and Jowan were more cautious but acknowledged they had not spent much time with the lady. “Why not offer to have her on a trial basis for two months?” Evangeline suggested. “She can use that time to search elsewhere if she finds the situation not to her liking.”
“How much will you tell her about you?” Bran wanted to know.
“Branoc Hughes, Tammie does not need to put all of her linen out on display,” Evangeline scolded. “Mrs. Mayhew needs only to know that Tammie has inherited her mother’s cottage and needs a companion so that she can live there after you and I are married and have moved into our own house.”
Tammie was not so certain. For one thing, the village gossips would certainly fill Mrs. Mayhew’s ears with their interpretation of Tammie’s history. For another, it would be unfair not to let anyone who lived with Tammie know about the possible danger from Guy and his minions. And then there was the point that Tammie did not drink nor use laudanum, which was unusual enough to require an explanation.
“If she is to live with me, she needs to have a picture of my history in at least broad brush strokes,” Tammie decided. “If, after that, she decides she does not want to take up my offer, then so be it. I certainly do not want to live in close quarters with a companion I must deceive to have her respect.”
A hackney approached, and running alongside was the boy they had sent to fetch it. Bran assisted Tammie and Evangeline aboard while Jowan paid the boy for the errand and gave the address of their inn to the coachman.
It was a drive of only a few minutes. Tammie was soon walking into the inn with Bran and Evangeline arm-in-arm behind her while Jowan settled with the hackney driver. She came to a stop two paces into the entrance foyer.
The Earl of Coombe turned from his conversation with the innkeeper and strode towards her. “Tammie. That fool denied you were here,” he said. “I have come for you.” Tammie stared at him. Had he changed drastically in the few weeks she had been gone, or was it just that distance—and sobriety—meant she was seeing him as he was? Surely those wrinkles were not new? Nor the jowls under his chin, and all the other signs of dissipation and age?
His aura was duller than ever. It was as if smog or mud obscured the light.
“Well, Tammie?” he demanded. “Send for your bags and come along.”
It was the harsh tone that presaged punishment, and Tammie quailed. But Evangeline stepped up beside her and took her hand. On her other side, Bran stood so close his arm touched her shoulder.
Tammie took strength from their presence and from the knowledge that Jowan was only moments from joining them. “I am not coming with you, Guy.”
“Now, now, Tammie. You have had your little rebellion. But you have caused me trouble enough. Get your things or leave without them. I do not care, but we will leave together.”
“No,” Tammie said, the habit of obedience so ingrained in her that the single word was all she could manage.
“The lady has refused you, Lord Coombe,” said Jowan’s voice, calm and strong. “She wishes nothing further to do with you.”
“Impudent puppy,” Guy scoffed. “Let her look me in the eyes and say that.”
Tammie summoned all her determination and stood straight and firm. She met Guy’s eyes with her own. His were bloodshot. “I wish to have nothing to do with you, Lord Coombe.”
For a moment, indecision and surprise showed on his face, but he rallied, taking a step closer and putting out a hand. With his most charming smile on his face, he said, “If Daphne Tempest bothers you, she need not. She cannot replace you, Tammie. You will always be my princess.”
The name he had given her, said in that wheedling tone of voice, suddenly disgusted her. “My name is not Tammie. Tammie Lind is no more. Leave me alone, Lord Coombe. Tammie Lind is gone. She is free of you and all your manipulations and deceits.”
As she was speaking, Jowan changed places with Bran and took her hand to place it on his arm. Guy reddened, either at Jowan’s action or what Tammie—no, Tamsyn—had said. “You don’t belong in some lowly pigpen with this gape seed, this country bumpkin,” Guy insisted. “You deserve to be courted, admired. To dazzle with your voice and your beauty. You know what I can give you, Tammie.”
“Goodbye, Lord Coombe,” Tamsyn replied. “Sir Jowan, I wish to retire to our suite.”
Jowan nodded and began to lead her to the stairs, making a wide circuit around Guy.
“You don’t want her, Trethewey,” Guy jeered. “Or you will not, once you know what she is. A whore.Mywhore, who has spread her legs for anyone I chose.” Jowan’s stride hitched and his arm under Tamsyn’s stiffened. “You speak of Tammie Lind, the celebrated singer. You subjected her to opium and worse. You abused her. And now you have lost her. I am not surprised you cannot show your face in London and have been repudiated by the king.”
“Tammie, I can give you whatever drugs you want,” Coombe pleaded.
Tamsyn refused to look at him. Jowan snarled, and—to Tamsyn’s surprise—Coombe quailed.
“Sir Jowan?” said the innkeeper, stepping between them and the stairs. “I do not want any trouble.” He waved a hand at Tamsyn. “If this—ah—person is—er…” He trailed off as he took in Jowan’s expression.
Bran took a hand. “Innkeeper, the Earl of Coombe has been driven out of London in disgrace for attempting to debauch and disgrace young men. I would not take his word for directions to a privy. I suggest you move out of our way and let us return to our rooms. Or do you wish us to take our custom elsewhere?”
The innkeeper stepped aside, and Jowan and Tamsyn led the way upstairs.
Chapter Eighteen
