The Bargain. Mary Jo Putney

had a most bizarre inspiration that might solve a problem of mine while helping Major Lancaster.” Quickly she sketched in the requirements of her father’s will, then explained the solution that had occurred to her.

      To her relief, the captain listened to Jocelyn’s proposal with no sign of revulsion. “Your proposition is unusual, but so is your situation. David might well be interested. It would be a great comfort for him if Sally is provided for. Shall I introduce you to him if he’s awake?”

      “That would be wonderful.” Jocelyn rose, hoping the major wasn’t asleep. If she had time to think about her idea, she might not be brave enough to go through with it.

      Richard pulled himself onto his crutches and led her to one of the rooms she’d glanced in earlier, where the patient had appeared unconscious. After opening the door for Jocelyn, he swung across the room to the bed.

      As Jocelyn studied the emaciated figure on the bed, it was hard to believe that a man so thin and motionless could still be living. Major Lancaster appeared to be in his late thirties, with dark hair and pale skin stretched across high cheekbones to form a face of stark planes and angles.

      The captain said softly, “David?”

      Major Lancaster opened his eyes at the sound of his friend’s voice. “Richard …” The voice was no more than a low whisper of acknowledgment.

      The captain glanced at Jocelyn. “There’s a lady here who’d like to meet you.”

      “Anything to oblige a lady,” Lancaster said, a thread of humor in the low voice. “I’ve nothing pressing on my schedule.”

      “Lady Jocelyn Kendal, allow me to present Major David Lancaster of the 95th Rifles.” Richard beckoned her to his side.

      “Major Lancaster.” She moved into the injured man’s line of sight and got her first clear look at him. A jolt of surprise went through her. Though his body was broken, his eyes were very much alive. Vividly green, they showed pain, but also intelligent awareness. Even, amazingly, humor.

      He scanned her with frank appreciation. “So this is the legendary Lady Jocelyn. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Every man in the regiment took pains to tell me what I’d missed by spending the winter with the Spanish army.”

      “The pleasure is mine, Major.” Jocelyn realized his eyes were striking not only for the unusual shade of transparent green, but because the pupils were tiny pinpoints, making the irises even more startling. Opium. She’d seen eyes like that in society ladies who were overfond of laudanum.

      She had intended to make her proposal without delay, but as she stood by the wreck of what had been a warrior, her throat closed and left her silent. To look into Major Lancaster’s green eyes and say that she was here to make a bargain in anticipation of his death was impossible.

      Correctly interpreting her strained expression, Richard Dalton said, “Lady Jocelyn has a most unusual proposition, one I think you’ll find interesting. I shall leave you two to discuss it.” He shifted his crutches to a more comfortable position, then left.

      Jocelyn took a deep breath, grateful that Richard had broken the ice. Where to start? Not wanting to overtire the major, she said succinctly, “My father died several years ago and left me a substantial inheritance, on the condition I marry by age twenty-five. I shall reach that age in a few weeks and am still unwed. Richard mentioned your situation, and it occurred to me that we might make a bargain of mutual benefit. If … if you’ll marry me, I shall settle an income on your sister to ensure her future security.”

      When she finished, absolute silence reigned, broken only by the distant sounds of street traffic. It took all of Jocelyn’s control not to flinch under Lancaster’s startled gaze. Yet when he spoke, his voice showed only curiosity, not anger at the bald implication of his imminent death. “I have trouble believing you can’t find a husband in the usual fashion. Are the men of London mad, blind, or both?”

      “The man I want has shown an unflattering lack of interest in me,” Jocelyn admitted, feeling that nothing less than honesty would do. “Perhaps he may someday change his mind. I hope so. In the meantime, I don’t want to marry only for the sake of an inheritance, then regret it the rest of my life. Do you understand?” Her last words were a plea; it was suddenly important that he accept her actions as reasonable.

      “It would be utter folly to marry the wrong man because of a ridiculous will,” he agreed. His eyes closed, leaving his face alarmingly corpselike. She watched anxiously, hoping she hadn’t overstrained him.

      His eyes flickered open. “How much of an annuity were you proposing?”

      Jocelyn hadn’t thought that far. After a swift assessment of her income and the costs of living, she asked hesitantly, “Would five hundred pounds a year be acceptable?”

      His brows rose. “That would be very generous. Enough for Sally to live a life of leisure if she wished, though I can’t imagine her idle. Perhaps she’d start a school.”

      He fell silent, the pain lines in his face emphasized as he thought. Uneasily Jocelyn said, “No doubt you’ll want some time to consider this.”

      “No,” he said emphatically, his voice stronger. “There is … no time to waste.”

      The words chilled her. For an endless moment, their gazes locked. Jocelyn saw no fear about his impending death, only stark honesty and hard won peace. With every breath he drew, this man humbled her.

      Carefully shaping each word, Lancaster said, “Lady Jocelyn, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” A faint, wry smile curved his lips. “Though I have nothing to offer you but my name, for your purposes that will suffice.”

      His ability to joke under these circumstances almost undid Jocelyn’s self-control. Choking back her feelings, she laid her hand over his. It was bone-thin, almost skeletal, but the pulse of life was still present. “The honor would be mine, Major Lancaster.”

      “David,” he said. “After all, we are about to wed.”

      “David,” she repeated. It was a good, solid name that suited him.

      His brows drew together in concentration. “We shall obviously have to be married here. I’m afraid that you’ll have to arrange for the special license, but if you have a man of business, he should be able to obtain one by tomorrow.”

      “I’ll have my lawyer take care of it. He can also draw up the settlement for your sister. Her name is Sally Lancaster?”

      “Sarah Jane Lancaster.” He closed his eyes again. “Your lawyer must also draw up a quitclaim for me to sign, relinquishing all customary claims against your property.”

      “Is that necessary?”

      “Legally your property would become mine on marriage, and on my death half would go to my heir, Sally. Since the purpose of this exercise is for you to retain your fortune, we don’t want that to happen.”

      “Heavens, I hadn’t thought of that.” What if she’d made this strange proposal to a man less scrupulous than Major Lancaster? It might have meant disaster.

      In an almost inaudible voice, he said, “If your lawyer is worth his hire, he would have protected your interests.”

      Recognizing that he was at the limits of his strength, Jocelyn said, “I should be able to have the license and settlements by tomorrow. Will this same time be agreeable to you?” As she studied the spare figure under the blanket, she wondered if he would still be alive in another twenty-four hours.

      Uncannily reading her mind, he said, “Don’t worry, I shall still be here.”

      She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, then released it. “Thank you, David. I shall see you tomorrow then.”

      A little dazed by the speed of events, she left the room, quietly closing the door behind her. Richard was seated in the lounge area at the end of the hall, so she joined him, gesturing for him not to stand for her. “Major