A Convenient Bride (13 page)

“So true.” Brenna smiled at his droll wit. “Thank goodness I’m in no danger of giving my heart to you. I would hate to give up my life of leisure for the hardships of toiling in your business ventures. Remind me again what you do?”

The music died. He eased her to a stop. “It would bore you. I think I shall depart now so that you may find more interesting and marriage-minded company.” He bowed and left her.

Brenna watched him disappear into the crowd. She had met him a few times and found him charming. However, as with her brother, he enjoyed sparring with her in a brotherly manner. After the emotional upheaval of Richard, she was searching for a man less likely to prick her temper. So she mentally crossed Mister Jones off her list.

“Lady Harrington.” The droll voice drifted over, and Brenna hid a wince. Mister Everhart. She turned and pasted on a smile.

“Mister Everhart.” The man was nothing if not persistent. He was attractive enough to intrigue women but poor enough to send all but the dimmest running behind their mother’s skirts. He was a fortune hunter of the highest order, and Brenna would not be ensnared.

She cocked up a brow and looked around him. “What? No wife? I thought you had Miss Tolson hooked?”

Everhart grinned. “She
is
lovely, and devilishly rich. Sadly, her father ran me off at the end of a pistol. Something about empty pockets and few prospects.” He took her hand, tucked it under his arm, and led her in a stroll around the room. “Thankfully, Lady Brenna Harrington is still in need of a husband, and I am unattached.”

Brenna felt the weight of his charm. “Alas, I am already promised to another life. My father thinks I would make an excellent nun.”

“You?” He chuckled. “Tell me you are not taking vows? It will be a dark day indeed.” He led her past a group of debutantes, who giggled when he nodded to them.

“According to Father, the convent will be far superior to spinsterhood. And I have yet to find a man to interest me enough to marry.”

Before Brenna realized she’d just issued what he would see as a challenge, she was on the terrace. Unfortunately, the only other couple taking in the night air was some distance away.

Drat the long terrace. “I think we should return inside.” Brenna removed her hand. It wasn’t hers for long. Everhart reclaimed it quickly and drew her behind a column. “Mister Everhart. This is improper. Release me.”

Everhart grinned as he pulled her into his arms. “I must show you what you will miss if you don the habit.”

Brenna struggled, but it was too late. He kissed her.

The kiss was not unpleasant, though it was unwelcome. She managed to get her hands between them and push him back. Then, to prove her disinterest, she slapped him, too.

He jerked sideways.

His eyes flashed cold. Brenna shivered.

“If I wasn’t clear during our previous encounters, then that should make things clearer for you, Mister Everhart.” She flexed and closed her hand. “I am not interested in making you my husband. Now, if you will excuse me.”

She stalked back to the ballroom.

For the rest of the evening, Brenna avoided the man. She needn’t have worried he’d press his intentions. There were young women aplenty. In fact, he winked at her once as he squired a pretty thing past her. The man was a rogue. Had he been wealthy, and not so forward, she might have put him on her list…somewhere near the bottom, before tonight’s kiss. She’d seen a brief glimpse of something in his eyes that she could not dismiss from her mind. Something darker than the charming side of him wanted her to see. It was best to avoid him from now on.

By evening’s end, she’d collected the names of several nice
men and accepted three offers to call. Though none of the three suitors were interesting enough to eject Richard from her heart, she kept her mind open to the possibility of finding love this season. Certainly there was someone appealing she hadn’t met yet?

“I am proud of you, Sister.” Simon helped her on with her cloak as the clock struck two. “You managed not to repel a single potential suitor with your sharp tongue. I shall consider the evening a success.”

Brenna sighed. She was too tired to squabble. “I made Father a promise. I intend to keep it.”

Laura took her arm. “Do not let His Lordship or your brother bully you. Love will come. Keep your heart open.”

As Simon led Brenna and Laura from the house, Brenna felt the return of gloom. How could she give her heart to anyone when it was already engaged?

T
he school is so quiet,” Brenna said, taking a seat in the parlor. She smoothed out her simple russet gown and looked over at Lucy. “I can hear the dust motes swirling.”

Lucy poured tea. She was pretty in pale green. “The matching party was three days ago. The courtesans are all wed and gone. It’s as silent as a mausoleum around here without them.”

Brenna accepted a cup. She added sugar. “I’d forgotten about the matching party.” During her week with Richard, she’d thought of nothing beyond her own troubles. She turned her focus on the former courtesan. “Did you not find a husband?”

“I did.” Lucy added cream to her tea. “We married yesterday. I am now Mrs. Franklin Pruitt.”

Puzzled, Brenna frowned. “And he has abandoned you already? Surely your wedding night was not as horrid as all that?”

Lucy laughed. “We spent a wonderful night at the Ritz before he had to run off to Paris to take care of a business concern. I did not want to stay in his town house alone, so Miss Eva said I could stay here for the month he will be away.”

“A month?” Brenna said, aghast. “You are newly wed.”

“The trip was planned before the party. Franklin almost
did not come to be matched. Yet I am pleased he did. He is handsome and charming and very sweet. I shall miss him dreadfully.”

Brenna’s story was not so dissimilar. She, too, had been abandoned shortly after her marriage.

At least Lucy’s husband was returning for her.

Annoyed with herself for thinking of
him
at all, Brenna pulled in a deep breath for control. “Well, I am pleased you are here. It would be dreadfully dull without you.”

Lucy smiled. “Miss Eva told me you’d be coming. We shall shop, help ready the household for the new courtesans, and tend the garden. Perhaps even stroll through the museums? Franklin left me funds enough to have a fine time.”

“It sounds splendid,” Brenna said, her spirits lifting. There was no better companion than Lucy to keep her distracted.

And for the next three weeks, Brenna spent her days at the school and her nights searching for a husband. Between the two, she was exhausted. Still, she dragged herself each day to Cheapside, determined to keep busy.

“I cannot go out today,” she complained to Lucy, as the former courtesan tried to tug her from the settee after Brenna had drifted off during a conversation about fabrics.

With each day that passed, she found it harder and harder to get out of bed. In fact, she wouldn’t have arrived at the school before noon at all if it weren’t for Lucy’s insistence that she needed Brenna to keep her from perishing from boredom in the quiet town house.

“It is almost noon,” Lucy said, tightening her grip. “I have never seen you so weary. Perhaps you should feign a headache tonight and get some rest. Surely the parties will go on without you?”

“Perhaps you should go alone today, and I can nap now. My former room is empty. Sophie would not mind if I slept for a few hours here,” Brenna suggested, and tried to put a pillow over her head, as if that would deter her friend. But she had to try. Her body craved sleep. “You are capable of choosing a frock without me. Just do not choose yellow. It is a horrid color on you.”

Lucy finally relinquished Brenna’s arm. “You have yawned
your way through the last few days and almost fell asleep in the coach yesterday. Your father can certainly give you one night off from your husband search.”

Though Lucy knew Brenna was husband hunting, she did not know that Brenna was Lady Brenna, daughter of an earl.

“If only I could. My father is determined to see me wed. My days of finding a suitable suitor are dwindling. I cannot pass up a single party or poetry reading or ball, lest I miss the man I’ve been searching for my whole life.” Brenna was having very little luck with her suitors. Not one of the dozen or so men she’d allowed to call had enticed her to anything but boredom. And she only had a week left to either find her perfect mate or summon up a suitable argument to convince Father to give her more time.

“It isn’t as though you aren’t trying,” Lucy offered. She twirled a curl. “You should take me to the next party. I am an excellent judge of character. I’m sure I can find you a suitable match.”

“If only I could.” Brenna knew that taking a former courtesan to a society party was not an acceptable idea. Not only would Lucy discover her identity, but if anyone recognized Lucy from her former profession, Brenna would be ruined.

There were far too many rules to follow, too many ways to be ruined. Sometimes Brenna wished she was not of lofty birth.

She finally gave in to Lucy’s pleading. “Help me up, and we will find something pretty for you to wear for your husband’s homecoming.” With a glad cry, Lucy pulled her from the settee. Brenna felt the room waver.

“Oh, dear.” She dropped back on the cushion, her hand pressed to her forehead. “I fear I stood too quickly.”

“You must be with child,” Lucy teased. “My mother had six girls. She was always dizzy and tired when carrying a babe.” She giggled and fanned Brenna with her hand.

“Oh, dear. Me with child?” Brenna repeated. Then her heart skipped. Could it be? She hadn’t had her monthly course since three weeks before she’d bedded Richard, and it had been three weeks since that night. If she was with child, it was very early, not quite a month. “How early can a woman know she’s been caught?”

Lucy shrugged. “My mother swore she knew the moment of conception with each of us, though most women know within two or three weeks after they miss their flow.”

Closing her eyes, Brenna pressed her hands over her eyes and squelched a groan. Damn Richard and his bold, male seed. The crushing weight of the prospect of being pregnant with his child sent a tremor of fright through her veins.

She pressed her hands to her face, both stunned and terrified by the revelation. If she
was
pregnant, there would be no annulment. A baby changed everything.

“I should have known the virile bastard would not need more than one night to settle his offspring on me.” When she realized she’d spoken aloud, her breath caught, and she darted a glance at Lucy. It was too late to take the comment back.

Lucy crossed the room, surprise on her face. “How can you be with child? I thought you had no prospects? Did you allow a footman to take liberties? A groom? A steward? Some of those men can charm their way under your skirts before you realize they have their hand untying your garters.”

Brenna made a sound, half laugh, half groan. There was no reason to hide the truth anymore. “Oh, it is worse than all that. The father is a lord. And he’s my husband.”

Y
ou are a scandalous flirt, Clive.” Bethany giggled. She twirled her hair and glanced sidelong at Richard. “I’d guess you’ve left many broken hearts in your wake. I must take care to protect mine.”

Richard ignored Bethany’s obvious attempts to engage his interest. Three days ago she’d snuck into his room when he was abed, stolen a kiss, and been soundly rejected. Now she was trying another tactic that would also fail. He did not like games and was not interested in that certain piece of fluff.

He turned to Miriam. “I understand you have painted a picture of the north pond. Perhaps you can show it to me after supper?”

Miriam flushed. She was his late wife’s cousin and had been foisted off on him two years ago by her social-climbing mother, who hoped he would fall in love with her daughter and make her his viscountess. Instead, she’d become a friend.

“I would like that very much.”

The differences between Miriam and her friend Bethany could not be more pronounced; one was quiet and sweet natured, and the other a bold flirt. He much preferred the former.

Added to the mix was Bethany’s brother, George, who did nothing of note and seemed content to live off Richard’s good graces. He should toss the pair out on their collective ears, but he did not want to hurt his friendship with Miriam.

So he let them stay, hoping one day they’d tire of Beckwith Hall and leave on their own.

A trill of laughter drew his attention back to George and his friends: Clive Everhart, Silas Gimsby, and Lord Ponteby. Bethany had the attention of all the young bucks, and Richard silently hoped one would propose to the girl and run off with her. Her eyes on him told him he would not be so blessed.

If only he could tell them of his marriage. That would instantly take him off the list of eligible bachelors in the park and give him peace. But he could not.

His mind drifted to Brenna, as it often did, and he wondered if she’d found her next husband. He thought it unlikely, as he’d not received a note requesting an annulment.