The Convenient Bride (8 page)

With
those stinging words, the earl turned on his heel and left the room.

Picking
up a chair, Clayton watched Miss Garland's face turn as red as her hair.
"A rather embarrassing predicament, Miss Garland. But I believe we fared
quite well. Again."

Her
green eyes flashed, and Clayton almost laughed. It was obvious she was
struggling to stay calm.

"You
think this all rather amusing, do you?"

"I
daresay, it was rather amusing, was it not?" He bent down to pick up the
empty pitcher. "However, I fail to see why you are always dumping things
on me."

Instead
of playing the meek little miss, Miss Garland stiffened. Her hands bunched at
her sides, and those berry lips pressed together forming a stubborn line of
defense.

Clayton
was captivated by the transformation. The lady was a puzzling mix of femininity
and brains. How very intriguing.

"You
are no gentleman."

Devil
take it. She certainly had spirit.

Clayton
followed on her heels as she marched toward the door. Surprisingly, he felt a
sudden lift to his step.

"I
believe it was you who dumped the tea on me earlier, Miss Garland, and if I am
not mistaken, it was also you who dumped the 'emonade on me. Or are you losing
your memory as well as your balance?" Hmmm, that did it!

She spun
around on her delicate slippers and pushed out her chin. "You are poking
fun at me, my lord. I saw it in your eyes the minute you stepped into this
room. Why, I saw it the minute you stepped into the drawing room downstairs.

"Well,"
she sputtered, "have your little amusement at my expense. Have your little
ladies at Vauxhall Gardens and the opera. Have your rides in Hyde Park with
Miss Hookston and Lady Whatever. But do not think I am subject to your rakish entertainment!"
With a huff, she tucked a stray ringlet behind her ear and glared at him.

Clayton
blinked. So she knew about Miss Hookston, did she? How very interesting.
"Your pardon, Miss Garland. I had no intention of bringing you down to my
lifestyle."

"Oh!"
she cried, turning from him.

Guilt
sliced his heart at the sound of her sniff.

"Listen
here," he said more calmly, pulling out his handkerchief, "I own it
was an embarrassing situation, but it's not as if I whipped you."

He
walked around to face her. She jerked her head away, but he had seen the tears
on her cheeks. She wanted to appear strong and in control, but beneath that red
head was a mind of sensitivity. Even more fascinating.

He
raised his handkerchief as a peace offering. "I am wiping the feckles,
Miss Garland. A Fairy Lady cannot cry or they will all wash away and so will
the wishes."

Miss
Garland slapped his hand. "Do not make fun of me!"

Clayton
gently grasped her wrist. To his surprise, a shock ran through him. "I
never make fun of ladies." His voice was husky and full of apology.

Her
watery eyes looked up into his, and something in the air simmered. She smelled
of the roses from his mother's garden with a hint of vanilla. Sweet, fresh, and
vibrantly alive.

Not
knowing why, he raised his finger to touch the bridge of her pert little nose.
"One feckle, one wish."

A smile edged
out of the corner of her mouth, and though the feel of her skin against his own
upset his balance, he continued his count. "Two feckles, two wishes. Three
feckles ..."

"You
are insufferable, my lord."

He
leaned closer and pushed a stray tendril away from her temple. Devil take it,
she was a little sea nymph with those green eyes and that fiery hair. The
second her mesmerizing gaze locked onto his face, temptation swept through him
like a wildfire, and suddenly he wanted to taste those berry lips.

Hell and
thunderation! What the deuce was he doing?

Shaken
at how close he had come to kissing her, he quickly stepped back, swallowing
hard. "I never said I wasn't insufferable, Miss Garland." With a slow
bow, he handed her his handkerchief. "A memento of our tea party."

Smiling,
she took it in her hands.

"Friends?"
he asked with a charming grin.

She
shook her head regretfully. "No, I don't think we can ever be
friends," she said rather softly.

Her
candid remark annoyed him more than he wanted to admit. Yet the flash of
sadness he'd seen in her eyes told him she had been harmed in some way. By a
man? He wasn't certain, but whatever this young woman had endured seemed to
have hardened her.

With a
twinge of regret, he realized this wasn't the innocent girl he recalled from
his youth at all. "I must work on that line, must I not, Miss
Garland?"

Before
she could answer, he surprised himself and kissed her hand. "I believe I
have an appointment with the earl."

Her eyes
widened at his boldness.

"Oh,"
he said in wry amusement, "don't worry. I have decided to pass on the duck
and plum sauce. Another engagement. So, if you will please excuse me. Au
revoir, my dear lady. Au revoir."

Briana's
gaze followed Lord Clayton as he strode from the nursery. Was it her
imagination or had he just asked her to be friends? One minute he seemed
annoyed with her, the next, well, it seemed he was going to kiss her. She shook
her head. No, she was the one going insane. She made her way across the room
toward the easel. What had he been drawing? Stick figures to pass the time
while he teased her about marriage?

She
dropped her gaze to the sketches, and her stomach plummeted. The top paper was
a sketch of her. A few freckles were sprinkled across her nose and there was a
tiara on her head and at the very bottom were the words "Fairy Lady."

Lord
Clayton had more talent in his one finger than she had in all the watercolor
and art classes she had taken in a lifetime. The man was full of surprises.
What else was he hiding?

She
flipped through the rest of the drawings. She had been in the nursery on many
occasions, but never once had she paged through the sketchings.

Amazed
at her find, she fell back against the window seat, holding the papers in her
hand. One had Gabrielle sitting on Nigel's back. Another had Gabrielle pouring
tea. Her heart turned when she stopped on the one with Gabrielle sitting on the
earl's lap and both of them laughing while Nigel jumped in the air beside them.
Lord Clayton had even sketched the smile lines around the earl's eyes. It was
remarkable.

The man
would break her heart if she gave him half a chance. Being friends with him
would be a slow death indeed. And his question about marriage ...

She
stiffened. What on earth was she thinking?

Yet the
memory of his arms around her earlier that day during the lemonade spill
reminded her of the time he had taught her to waltz. She finally had to admit
that when she was in his arms, he gave her a sense of security that even
Alistair had never given her. His arrogance annoyed her, but his tenderness
entranced her.

Her
brows narrowed as she took one last look at the sketch. The man could charm a
flea off a pot of honey if he wanted to.

She had
to keep her distance from him—now and always. Because if she weren't careful,
she could be one of the many fleas smashed beneath the heel of his shiny new
Hessians.

Chapter Seven

C
layton strolled into the earl's library,
not at all moved by the impatient look in Jared's eyes. "You wanted to see
me?" he asked with a sarcastic twist to his mouth.

The earl
threw his hands behind his back. "I am not her father, only a very distant
relative at that, but you were caught in a compromising position."

"I
am here because you are my friend, Jared. I don't want anything between us.
Nothing was going on except that your beast of a dog tried to interfere in a
princess tea party."

Clayton
noted the earl's expression tighten as the man walked about the room. By Jove,
to hell with Emily's list and his! If he had to be leg shackled, it would be to
a woman with some wit and tenderness. Miss Garland might be in a bit of a huff
over their strange meetings the past few days, but he told himself his future
children would benefit prodigiously with a mother such as her.

"If
it worries you, I intend to marry the girl."

Lord
Stonebridge whipped around so fast Clayton thought he might burn a hole in the
rug. "What the devil did you say?"

Clayton
knew Jared shared Emily's fondness for Miss Garland, but he wasn't quite ready
for the heated flash of protection he saw in the earl's eyes.

"I
need a bride, Jared. You know my circumstances."

"Not
Miss Garland," the earl warned.

"Why
not? A marriage of convenience would suit us both."

"Is
that what you had planned all along, then? In front of my daughter? To
compromise the lady?"

Clayton
clamped his jaw tight, biting back a swift retort. "Any other man would be
called out for that."

"She
has no man to speak for her," the earl ripped out. "What do you take
me for, some bumbling idiot? I will not let my wife's good friend fall into
some marriage of convenience with you or any other man."

"The
lady may be under your roof, but she is not your ward."

Jared
spread his hands on his desk and leaned forward, his eyes darkening. "I
won't have it."

Nigel
gave a bark as he trotted out from behind the desk.

Clayton
shot the beast a hardened glare. "Does that blasted canine have to be
everywhere?"

"Did
you hear me?" the earl ground out.

Clayton
was irked by Jared's arrogant tone, and it took all his willpower not to walk
out on the man. "Rest assured, you have made your point. However, I made
my way down here because I am your brother-in-law. But be that as it may, I
will do as I wish."

The earl
slapped his hand against the desk. "You cannot marry her for a confounded
castle!"

"It
is for more than a castle," Clayton said harshly.

"Ah,
but it is not all about you, is it?" The sarcasm in the earl's voice was
evident.

"I
am not that shallow, Jared. I intend to treat her well. It would be a mutual
agreement between two intelligent parties."

"Do
you know how hard the past few years have been for her? Someone has to see to
her welfare. That mother of hers is always ill with something."

"Yes,
and that mother of hers is always seeking me out."

"Marry
the mother, for all I care. But stay away from Miss Garland. Do I make myself
perfectly clear?"

The
fatherly tone in the man's voice sparked Clayton's anger. "I am not a
dragon, hauling her into my cave. She will have the choice to say no. But a
woman in her circumstance would never decline such an offer."

Jared
straightened, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Oh ho! You think
much of yourself."

Clayton
reddened. "I didn't want to marry. But I cannot pass on this
opportunity."

He
thought of Lady Serena. She had never loved him. He knew that now. And what was
she to him? Simply a prize to be won? What kind of life would they have had,
deceiving one another? In his proposed marriage of convenience, there would be
no deception at all.

"Miss
Garland can keep to the country. As a child she always loved it there. I can
give her a comfortable home and her mother can stay with her as well. I hear
Sir Garland was in need of funds when he died. This will be a marriage of convenience
that will work well for both of us."

"It
won't work for both of you. Take it from a man who went through a marriage of
convenience. You may be fond of the woman, but you will be miserable."

"Miserable?
I've been miserable. I don't want to be there again. The castle, the money,
they are not something I asked for, but by heaven, I'm going to take this
opportunity. See if I don't."

The
earl's face softened. "Clay, for your sake, let this go."

"I
am not about to let it slip through my fingers. I have three weeks to make my
choice. Miss Garland is at the top of my list. Though a bit of a
bluestocking"—and a bit stubborn, he wanted to add—"she seems quite
agreeable. And," he emphasized, "she is not some simpering female who
has to be at my side at all times."

Jared's
brows dipped considerably. "I don't think your sister would take kindly to
that description."

"You
know that's not what I meant," Clayton snapped. "I meant that Miss
Garland has the capability to live in the country without me. I will visit upon
occasion, but my life will be here in Town. Besides traveling to Newmarket and
racing some dashed fine horses, I will have my clubs and other entertainment to
keep me busy. Not something a country wife needs or wants."

"And
what about children?"

A pair
of twin girls with auburn curls came to mind, and Clayton smiled. With Miss
Garland as their mother, they would be smarter than most men he knew. And in
this day and age, having brains was not a bad thing at all. "Of course I
plan to have children."

Jared
let out a rush of air. "I should shoot you right now. You know that, don't
you?"

Clayton
could not resent the earl coming to the lady's defense. In fact, he was glad
Miss Garland had a respectable gentleman shielding her from the advances of
unwanted suitors, but this was the outside of enough. Jared knew him.

"You
have what you want," he said to the earl. "A wife, children, a home.
I am only asking for a bit of that."

Jared's
face hardened again. "You don't know what the hell you want anymore. All you're
thinking about is that castle and the money!"

The dog
let out a groaning howl of distress.

With a
scowl twisting his handsome features, Jared marched across the room and swung
open the door. "Yes, I know, Nigel. It hurts my ears, too."

The dog
dashed into the hall with another wail.

Clutching
the door, Jared regarded Clayton with a disapproving stare. "I don't like
it. You should love your wife. I don't care what the rest of the
ton
does or doesn't do. It isn't right, Clay. It just isn't right."

"I thought
I loved once, too, Jared. But I was wrong. The lady ran away, thinking she
would have a better life with an older man. So you see? A marriage based on
what you have is not for me."

Another
lady holding even a part of Clayton's heart would set him in a weak position,
and as Wellington had learned during the war against old Boney, any sign of
weakness could get a man killed.

"Then
you're a fool, Clay. A deuced fool."

Briana
had started down the stairs, but halted when Nigel came rushing toward her.
"Hello, boy." Smiling, she patted his thick brown fur. "Ah, I
understand. You are running from someone. Did Gabrielle get ahold of Agatha's
parasol again?"

The dog
let out a yelp and licked her hand.

"Not
Gabrielle, huh?" She laughed and pushed him up the steps toward the
nursery. "Go on, then. I suspect your favorite girl will be there
soon."

The
massive dog dashed up the staircase and disappeared around the corner as if a
nice juicy roast were waiting for him on a silver platter. With a low chuckle,
Briana continued down the stairs. If only life were that easy.

She
paused at the bottom step when two angry voices met her ears. The sounds were
coming from the library. Lord Clayton and Lord Stonebridge were shouting at
each other.

"I
thought I loved once, too, Jared. But I was wrong. The lady ran away, thinking
she would have a better life with an older man. So you see? A marriage based on
what you have is not for me."

Briana
fought the impulse to run back up the stairs along with Nigel. It was Lord
Clayton's voice and it shook her to her very core. Whatever tiny hope she had
had of marriage with the handsome lord fizzled into nothing. Any childhood
dreams she had suppressed instantly dissolved.

She had
heard stories about Lady Serena's flight with some high-ranking officer and she
thought the lady a fool. But she had never realized how much it hurt him. He
held wounds of sorrow and grief that mimicked her own. A seed of empathy began
to grow inside her, and she didn't like to admit it, but the imperfections in his
character made her like him a little more. And his loving Gabrielle didn't hurt
him either.

Her
heart squeezed and her eyes stung. So, he didn't believe in a love-filled
marriage. What did it matter? Hadn't she known the truth about her and Lord
Clayton a long time ago? What kind of imaginary life had she been spinning?

A
strange ache began to spread through her limbs. Why should she care anyway? Why
should she ever trust a man again? She had already made her decision before
she'd heard whatever Lord Clayton had to say or before she had ever felt his
pain.

Besides,
he wasn't even thinking about her.

He was
only confirming her very thoughts, her very plans for the future. A man would
only ruin her life. Wasn't it a man who had left Clarice with child? She put a
hand to her mouth and choked back a sob as memories flooded her. Sir Garland
and Lieutenant Alistair Perry had made a fine impression on her life as well,
almost like Lady Serena had made on Clayton.

No, she
thought, turning around and climbing the steps to her bedchamber, trusting the
opposite sex was not an option.

After
speaking with Jared, Clayton realized he was making a rash decision and
admitted to himself that perhaps he should at least try to find another bride
instead of Miss Garland, but the lady was never far from his mind.

"Here
is the amended list," Marcus said, handing over the paper to Clayton.

Clayton
sat down in the chair at White's, shaking his head. "Only three more
names? You are as much help as Emily. She gave me a list of widows ten years
older than me."

Marcus's
smile died. "This is not polygamy, Clay. Whittle the six down to two and
then make your choice. I may be your brother, but that doesn't mean I like what
you're doing."

Clayton
pointed to two names. "Never heard of them."

Marcus
took a sip of his wine, avoiding Clayton's gaze. "Twins. Just out of the
schoolroom. Father's a rich earl up north."

"Wonderful.
How old are they, sixteen?"

"Seventeen."

Clayton
grimaced. "I am not out to rob the cradle."

Marcus's
glass-clanked against the table. "No, but you have made it known that you
need a wife."

Clayton
began to wonder if his entire family was against him in this. "Who the
devil is Miss Dunkly?"

"You
remember, the female with the silly laugh. Christian name, Roberta. Not bad to
look at. Has quite a dowry. I do believe she wouldn't mind the country. Stays
there most of the time anyway." Marcus chuckled. "Loves horses."

Clayton
winced, recalling the lady's snorting laugh. "You never liked me, did
you?"

"You
could drop the whole thing." Marcus's expression turned serious.
"Perhaps you could invest in a plantation in the Caribbean. I can loan you
some money."

"No,"
Clayton said, curling his fingers around the paper. He had no wish to be in
debt to his family. He had this one chance, and by heaven, he was going to take
it! "I will do this, Marcus."

"Dash
it all, Clay, I can't stop you. You always do what you want anyway."

Clayton
heaved a sigh as a pair of bright green eyes came to his mind. "Tell me
the truth." He drummed his fingers on the table. "What do you think
of Miss Garland?"

Marcus
frowned. "Miss Briana Garland? Em's friend?"

"The
same. She and Miss Appleby are staying with Em for a bit. Lady Garland is in
the country. Headaches, you know."

"Ah,
yes, the mama." Marcus stretched out his right leg as he surveyed Clayton
with a humorous expression. "The lady who looks like a penguin. Mother's
friend, is she not?"

"At
least the daughter doesn't look like the mother."

Marcus
smiled. "No, Miss Garland has those green eyes that could turn a man
inside out if she only knew how to use them. And those freckles are, well, no
matter what the
ton
says, I think they are rather sweet. Adorable, in
fact."