The Bad Luck Wedding Night, Bad Luck Wedding series #5 (Bad Luck Abroad trilogy) (15 page)

Sarah warmed the smile she turned his way. "I would imagine the day looks especially bright to you, sir, since you'll spend at least part of it with such a sweet and lovely young woman as Lady Charlotte."

Rodney blinked hard, obviously taken aback. Then his expression melted to something soft and wistful. "Um, yes. It is a glorious day for that reason alone."

Sarah decided she liked the fellow in that instant.

His mother, however, was a different kettle of chili. The harridan's eyes rounded and her mouth gaped. In a stiff brittle tone she asked, "Have we met?"

Sarah took a moment to lay another sin at Nick's door. They'd never decided on a story. He'd spent the time kissing her instead, and now she didn't have a clue as to how she should introduce herself.

She decided to keep her reply vague—and maybe help out the young lovers while she was about it. "Possibly. You do look familiar. Of course, I've done so many weddings of late, and I've met so very many people. It's a failing of mine, I'm afraid. I can remember details about flowers and gowns and breakfast menus for every wedding I've planned for the past five years, but I'm a dreadful failure when it comes to names. Mrs. Astor completely lost her patience with me when I forgot Senator Hollingsworth's name, and I won't even mention the faux pas concerning President Cleveland at the Hilliard-Landsdowne wedding. You are the mother of the groom in this wedding, are you not? Mrs...." She snapped her fingers. "Mrs. Bratts."

"Lady Pratt."

"Yes. That's right. Lady Pratt. It's these English titles. They constantly trip me up. I apologize for the mistake, especially considering the compliments Lord Weston has paid you in my presence."

"Compliments?"

"He told me you would be a great help to me in discovering the best local suppliers. I know where to buy the freshest flowers in Washington and who is the most talented chef in Boston, and as far as New York goes, well I know
everyone
in New York. I'll import whatever I feel is necessary, but I always like to include some local sources. I'm excited about expanding my consultancy to London, and I intend for my first wedding here to be the grandest ever seen. Why, Society will be pea green on both sides of the Atlantic by the time Lord Pratt and Lady Charlotte depart for their honeymoon. This will be the most talked-about wedding of the Season. Of a decade of Seasons. A century of Seasons!"

Interest lit the harridan's eyes. "Who did you say you are?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." She gave a good imitation of an embarrassed laugh. "I am Sarah of Lucky in Love Weddings, of course. Lord Weston lured me away from America because he wants every detail to be perfect for your son's wedding to his sister. At the risk of sounding boastful, I am the best woman for the job."

Then, smiling sweetly, Sarah played her trump card. "And you, Lady Pratt, will be the envy of every mama in Town."

"How lovely!" The sour face beamed.

Sarah took a seat at the table, snapped open her napkin, and spread it across her lap.
I'd like to see Nick's Lady Lead do any better.

* * *

Out in the hallway, a wide-eyed Charlotte turned to her brother and whispered, "Is any of that true?"

Nick rolled his tongue around his mouth. "The part about you being sweet and lovely is true. As for the rest..."

He finished with a shrug.

Her murmur brimming with admiration, Gillian said, "She won the Dragon Lady over."

Aurora nodded. "Played her like a violin."

Melanie clicked her tongue, then glanced at her brother. "You intend to rid yourself of this wife so
you
can have Lady Steele? Nicholas, did you bring home one of those special pipes from the Orient?"

"What special pipes?" Robyn asked.

"She's teasing, Robbie," Nick said, sending Melanie a scolding glare. He motioned his sisters to proceed him into the dining room. He made quick work of formally introducing Sarah to the Pratts, and soon the conversation bubbled with talk of guest lists, gowns, and party favors. During the middle of it, Gillian's husband, Jake Delaney, wandered into the room. After perusing the buffet and pouring himself a cup of coffee, he ruffled Robyn's hair before taking a seat beside Gillian. He pressed a quick kiss to his wife's cheek, then winked at Sarah and observed, "You're becoming quite the traveler, gal."

The next half hour proved illuminating. In the time it took to consume a light luncheon, Nick watched the females in his family get to know his wife. They made friends over salads, cold meat, and sliced bread, then bonded over dessert. By the time the last crumb of chocolate cake was consumed, his sisters and his wife were bosom buddies, in a manner of speaking.

He found the development more than a little disconcerting. When women put their heads together, a man never knew what sort of mischief they might cook up.

They had certainly won the day where Lady Pratt was concerned. On a dining table battlefield, dressed in gold buttons and braid, Sarah marshaled her troops against Charlotte's prospective mother-in-law like a female Napoleon with a Texas drawl. She led her women in a war of words that used Society names as bullets and wedding plans for cannonballs. When conversation worked its way around to Lady Pratt's mother-of-the-groom attire, Nick knew victory was won. The old battle-ax all but waved a lace-trimmed handkerchief in defeat.

Observing the satisfied pleasure in his sisters' expressions and basking in the glow of Rodney and Charlotte's mutual devotion, Nick felt a niggling sense of concern.

He was fairly certain Sarah had lied about her social ties. She might be well connected in Texas and elsewhere in the South, but he didn't think she'd actually had dealings with the president of the United States. Surely she'd have mentioned that sort of detail in her letters. So why had Sarah jumped to Charlotte's defense that way? She'd never met the girl. What were her motives?

Did the cute little general think to muster his family against him?

His wife wouldn't meet his gaze. Oh, she'd speak to him, smile at him, and include him in the conversation—in a brother-of-the-bride manner. Never once did she refer to him as her husband, brushing off the Dragon Lady's veiled question about her arrival at Glencoltran Castle with a chagrined smile and an apologetic "travel-weary temper" explanation. Nick didn't know whether to be pleased or annoyed about her reticence.

He was halfway tempted to spill the news himself just to witness her reaction. But that would create a whole set of problems he was ill-prepared to deal with at the moment.

No, he'd keep to his original plan. They'd stay in Scotland until the marriage was legally ended, and Society need never know he'd been married to the beautiful baggage.

She'd called herself Sarah of Lucky in Love Weddings, but she would still need an identity to go with the name. She couldn't be Lady Innsbruck, because that would raise too many questions. He didn't care what name she used in Texas. In fact, he wondered if there was a way she could legitimately keep that minor title following the annulment. He seemed to remember that in the case of divorce, such a boon could be granted a former wife.

His lips quirked with a self-deprecating smile as the thought occurred that if not for the certain scandal and its reflection upon his sisters, he wouldn't mind going the route of divorce over annulment.

He'd love to take the opportunity to consummate the marriage, to put to use the training he'd received during his visits to the sultan's seraglio. The need to redeem himself for his wedding night had eaten at him since the day he left Fort Worth.

At that point, Nick's thoughts turned distinctly sexual. While the women talked about possible wedding dates and bridal bouquets, he mentally divested the general of her uniform, substituting a harem dancer's veils in its place.

Leaning one shoulder against the dining room wall, his arms folded, his legs crossed casually at the ankles, Nick sank into the fantasy. Instead of the lingering aroma of roasted chicken, he smelled the sweet bite of incense on the air. Rather than the chatter of feminine voices, he heard the beat of drums and chink of finger cymbals. He imagined a soft rug beneath him, a cup of wine, and a plate filled with pomegranates and grapes at his side. In front of him, her body veiled in such a way that it revealed more than it concealed, Sarah danced.

Her long, golden hair hung free, swinging with the sensuality of her movement. Through the gauzy silk that draped her body, he could see the round, dusky shadows that tipped her high, full breasts. His stare slid lower, drinking in the vision of her undulating torso, pausing to put a jewel—a sapphire; no, a brilliant ruby—in her navel. His mouth grew dry as his gaze found her hips, adorned with a belt of clinking gold coins, beckoning with slow figure eights that gradually increased in speed, moving faster and faster and...

"Nicholas? Nicholas!"

Charlotte's insistent voice broke through his daydream and Nick stood up straight to find a whole roomful of women staring expectantly his way. A flush of embarrassment stole up his neck, and he glowered at Rodney—just because it felt like the thing to do—before addressing his sister. "What?"

Charlotte gestured toward the mantel clock. "We lost track of the time, and Lady Pratt is concerned she might miss her train."

Now
that
would be disaster.

Nick checked his pocket watch, calculated the time required to transport the Dragon Lady to the railway station in Nairn, then heaved a mental sigh of relief and smiled at his guests. "I believe you have sufficient time left, Lady Pratt. I'll call for my fastest coach to take you to the station. If you will excuse me, I shall see to the arrangements now."

A short time later his family gathered in front of the castle to see Rodney and the Dragon Lady off. Nick tried not to notice that Melanie, Robyn, and Aurora ran interference with the old shrew to allow Charlotte and Rodney time for a private good-bye. He knew a few kisses weren't inappropriate at this point, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

When the coach bearing Lady Pratt finally clattered away from Glencoltran, Nick joined his sisters in a round of relieved applause.

"Charlotte, I hope Rodney appreciates the depths of your love," Nick said as they turned back toward the castle.

Buoyed by her fiancé's promise to visit her immediately upon the family's return to London or Hunterbourne, whichever came first, Charlotte threw her arms around her brother and offered a squeeze of a hug. "He is not blind to his mother's faults. Not at all. In fact, he has a plan for dealing with her."

"What's that?"

The sparkle in her eyes brought a smile to Nick's face as she said, "He's matchmaking. He is promoting a romance with an old acquaintance of Lady Pratt's—a widower—who lives in Ireland."

Nick's smile broadened into laughter. "Ah, posy, I think your man Rodney is growing on me."

* * *

"I think I like Sarah," Melanie said as she hurried into Aurora's bedchamber late that night. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"I adore her," Charlotte declared as she followed her younger sister. "The way she won over Lady Pratt was incredible."

"Shush." Aurora held her finger up to her mouth as she waved Robyn in behind the others. "When I sneaked into the kitchen for biscuits and milk, Nicholas was prowling around downstairs. We don't want him to hear any noise and come check on us."

"I still say we should have had this meeting in my room," Melanie said. She kicked off her slippers and sat cross-legged on her sister's bed. "If Nicholas checks on anyone, it will be you, since you're the wicked sister."

"That's not fair!" Robyn exclaimed. "That's what I want to be."

"You're not old enough, Robbie. I'll turn over the mantle to you in a few years."

"Don't tease her," Melanie scolded.

Aurora joined Melanie on the bed. She chose a gingersnap from the plate of sweets, took a dainty bite, and said, "You're just jealous that I won the coin toss and got to pretend to be in love with Willie Hart."

Melanie wrinkled her nose. "I'm not jealous. I was glad you won. I wouldn't want to kiss Willie Hart no matter how pretty he is."

Aurora's look went sly. "You would if you knew how well he kissed."

"Oh, yuck." Robyn grimaced and put her fingers in her ears. "I dinna want to hear about that. I canna get away from it. At Rowanclere, I am forever catching Jake and Gillian kissing."

Melanie snorted. "Believe me, you wouldn't have wanted to see Aurora and Willie. I spied on them and wished I hadn't. She let him put his tongue in her mouth."

"Aurora!" Charlotte exclaimed, sinking into a pink brocade chair. "You didn't."

The younger girl shrugged and said, "I thought that as long as I was being wicked, I might as well be very wicked."

Charlotte shook her head in wide-eyed wonder. "It's amazing Nicholas didn't kill Willie when he caught up with the two of you."

"It was a close thing. If we'd been farther than ten minutes away from Hunterbourne Manor, he might have. As it was, I was beginning to think I'd have to cosh Willie on the head myself. The moment we left Nicholas's lands, Willie started behaving as though the elopement was more than simply an act. I'll admit I was pleased to see our brother riding to the rescue."