With His Ring (Brides of Bath Book 2) (12 page)

Her heart fluttered.
It was a love match.
A one-sided love match.
"Trust me, dear Blanks, I can be most
convincing. You'll not regret our uncommon alliance."

She placed a gentle hand on his forearm.
"Oh, look, Blanks! The leaves on the elm are beginning to blossom.
A new beginning. Just like us."

Chapter 10

Before dinner that night Glee felt obliged
to introduce herself to Blanks's stepmother for a few private
words. Already dressed in the russet gown she would wear to dinner,
Glee strode to the east wing and softly knocked on the door to the
room given Mrs. Blankenship.

"Yes?" a voice called from within.

"It's Glee Pembroke. Do you have a moment,
Mrs. Blankenship?"

"Come in." The woman's voice was harsh.

Perhaps she was not yet dressed, and Glee
would be viewed as an intrusion. "If you're not ready. . ."

"I'm ready." She sounded impatient.

Glee slowly turned the knob and entered the
sage green chamber as Mrs. Blankenship's maid exited. Aurora
Blankenship stood up to greet Glee. The woman was twice Glee's age
and was barely taller than Glee, though her thick body with no
waist differed vastly from Glee's. Mrs. Blankenship bore a striking
resemblance to Jonathan.

"I wished to meet with you privately before
our families assemble for dinner," Glee said.

The woman openly stared at Glee, her green
eyes slitted as she moved her head up and down the length of Glee.
"I see Gregory has done very well himself. You're not only pretty,
but you also come from a titled family. My husband would have
approved."

"You malign your son if you believe he
selected me for such insignificant attributes."

Aurora Blankenship tossed back her head, her
grayish-brown locks skittering, and laughed heartily. "First of
all, Gregory is
not
my son," Mrs. Blankenship said with
emphasis when she finished laughing. "And secondly, I hardly need
malign Gregory when his actions do so thorough a job of it
already."

Glee instantly regretted her unwise decision
of making herself known to the vicious woman who had been the only
mother Blanks had ever known. "If you think to poison my mind
against Gregory, I warn you, I'll hear none of it. There's nothing
you can say that will make me love him less."

Mrs. Blankenship's eyes narrowed as she
continued her lazy perusal of Glee. "You're merely attracted to his
tall body and pleasing appearance." Her eyes lowered and her voice
softened. "A pity my Jonathan did not inherit his father's
height—or his wealth."

Glee's heart melted for her beloved Blanks.
Had he always been forced to endure this wicked woman's prejudice?
"My only pity is for you, Mrs. Blankenship, for not knowing the
wonderful man your step-son has become."

Then, with no further words, Glee turned and
left the woman's room.

* * *

Only Jonathan separated Glee from Aurora
Blankenship at dinner. A most unpleasant dinner, to be sure. For
Aurora Blankenship preferred to dominate the conversation.

"Now that you're to be a married man," she
said to Blanks, who sat across the table from her, "you could learn
economy from your brother. Jonathan's scorn for frivolousness
allows him to channel his money into more worthy endeavors than
your set is prone to do."

To Glee's consternation, Blanks made no
effort to change the direction of her conversation. Nor did he in
any way acknowledge it. He merely listened to her, his ever-present
grin sliding across his face, and continued eating his sturgeon.
Had he grown enured to Aurora's humiliations? Poor, sweet
Blanks.

When the second course was served, Aurora
started in on George. "A relief it is to see you nicely settled
here at Hornsby and not gallivanting with Gregory's set. I used to
tell Mr. Blankenship it was a pity Lord Sedgewick should be caught
in Gregory's net, for I believe you must have more in common with
my Jonathan. My uncle, you know, was Sir Quimby."

"I did not know," George said absently as he
studied his spoon full of peas.

The horrid woman was jealous of Gregory's
association with a peer! Nothing on earth would give Glee greater
pleasure than hurling her own peas into Aurora Blankenship's mean
face.

The woman rambled on about Blanks's great
many shortcomings, and he never once defended himself. Glee's heart
bled for him.

Then Aurora addressed Glee. "I hope you're
up to the challenge of being married to Gregory. Time and again his
father had to extricate the boy from one scrape after another. Now
that my dear husband's gone, I fear you'll be called upon any
number of times to bail him out of trouble."

"I will always be there when my husband
needs me, but I can't fathom him doing anything for which I would
disapprove. You see, Mrs. Blankenship, I've known him almost as
long as you, and I find nothing at all objectionable in him."
Nothing but sharing Carlotta Ennis's bed
. And that she had
already pretended to accept.

To Glee's utter surprise, Jonathan clapped
his hands together. "Well spoken, Miss Pembroke."

The brothers exchanged amused glances,
Blanks's smile ever ready. So Jonathan
was
aware of his
mother's cruelty toward his brother. Glee decided she detested
mother as well as son. When she and Blanks were married, she vowed
to have nothing more to do with the pair of them.

* * *

A lump lodged in Gregory's throat the next
morning as he stood at the front of the little chapel, his brother
at his side, watching George escort Glee down the aisle. His
wedding day. His bride was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman he
had ever beheld. She wore a gown of snowy white silk threaded with
silver. A cascaded veil of filmy white silk did little to hide her
glorious auburn hair. Upon the satiny skin above her bodice, his
mother's emeralds rested. They were a perfect match to Glee's
sparkling eyes.

Glee came to stand beside him, and he took
her quivering hand, only to realize his own was also shaking. She
looked up at him, squeezed his hand, and smiled.

It was such a simple gesture, yet her easy
smile calmed him. After all, his bride was just Glee, a woman he
had known since childhood, a female he had treated as another male
for most of those years. Most of all, she was a friend. Perhaps
marriage, to Glee, would not be so repugnant as he had imagined
marriage to be.

This would be his only wedding. Ever. And he
was glad to share it with those he cared most about. George.
Jonathan. Appleton and the twins. And Glee. For he could not deny
he cared for her. He just did not care for her in the same way a
man cared for his wife.

He was not nearly as nervous as he had
thought he would be when the vicar started the wedding ceremony,
but he was completely astonished over his own response when the
vicar asked him, "Do you take this woman to be your wife?"

Gregory swallowed hard, and in a voice
trembling with emotion, he answered, "Yes." Then his eyes filled
with tears. A glance at his bride confirmed that her eyes also
become moist.

After the ceremony, he and Glee served as
host and hostess at their wedding breakfast. Here is where he made
every effort to convince Jonathan of his love for Glee. Every time
she spoke, he looked at her with glowing admiration. Between each
course, he took her slim hand within his and pressed soft kisses
into her palm until the blush colored her cheeks.

When the servants carried away her
unfinished toast, his brows lowered in concern. When she did not
touch the comfits, he stroked her face as would a lover, and he
inquired if she felt altogether well. With smiling eyes she looked
at him and assured him she felt all that was healthy but that her
appetite was not as great as the lavish fare that spread over the
table and throughout every sideboard in the room and the adjacent
butler's pantry.

Once the last of the sweetmeats was
consumed, Gregory rose and with a voice choking with emotion
thanked all of their friends and loved ones for attending their
wedding. He looked down at Glee adoringly. "My bride and I must
journey now to Bath in order to arrive before dark."

In the event of inclement weather, he had
brought Glee's new carriage to Hornsby for their return to Bath. He
saw her into it, and spread a rug over her lap.

"She won't need that with you to warm her!"
George said good-naturedly.

Glee turned crimson.

With the carriage door still open, the two
of them said good-bye to their well-wishers.

Then meeting Appleton's gaze, Gregory
challenged his friends. "A pony says my matched bays will get us to
Bath before your old nags."

"You're on!" Appleton responded, hurriedly
moving toward the stable.

Elvin answered for himself and his twin.
"We'll hate to take the bridegroom's money," he boasted with a
smile before he and his brother started after Appleton.

With the carriage rattling over the long
avenue to the manor house, Glee pulled off her headdress and
settled back into the squabs with a sigh. Even during their wedding
day, she would not be alone with her new husband. They would share
the day with his bachelor friends. And she would appear to be
enjoying every minute of their company.

She smiled at her husband. "The bays are
beautiful, but do you really think they can outdistance a lone
rider? George always said Appleton was every bit as talented as you
in selecting outstanding horseflesh. And five-and-twenty pounds is
a great deal of money to lose."

Blanks shrugged. "It'll be close, but it
will make the ride faster—and jollier." He moved across the
carriage and sat beside her, taking her hand in his. "Never worry
about the money. You are now a very rich woman."

It seemed peculiar that she was now rich.
Even more peculiar was the idea that her husband believed her
mercenary enough to wed for money. "I daresay the wager's quite a
lark. Mr. Appleton and the twins are so very much fun to be
around."

"Quite," he uttered, lifting the carriage's
privacy curtain in order to catch a glimpse of his challenging
friends. "They haven't finished saddling yet, I suppose," he said,
dropping the curtain and meeting her gaze.

"You were a wonderful husband! So solicitous
you almost fooled me. I am sure you fooled Jonathan."

"Let us hope," Gregory said solemnly.

Now it was time for Glee to begin Phase II
of her battle plan.

"Oh, please, Blanks, have the driver slow
down so I can make a wager with the fellows. Since I am now a woman
of means, I shall wager five quid that we win."

Blanks straightened up and shot her a queer
look. "I'll do no such thing. A lady doesn't wager on horses."

"Silly, I'm not a lady anymore. I shall be
one of the bloods. We'll have great fun."

"Bloods? That is not a term a lady uses. And
I won't have my wife cavorting with bloods."

Though she rather liked that he referred to
her as his wife—it sounded so blessedly good—she had failed to
achieve her goal. For her Phase II consisted of emulating a fast
woman. After all, Blanks had always been enamored of fast women.
"Really, Blanks, you sound so terribly prudish. Better that I
cavort with your friends than take a lover. And I've promised not
to do that the first year of our marriage."

The very idea of Glee taking a lover—their
first year of marriage or at anytime thereafter—fairly singed his
hair. Glee was, after all, a lady. A complete innocent.

And later? He would never allow her to take
lovers, never be able to stand the idea of losing her on childbed.
“Having my wife spoken of in demeaning terms is something I will
not tolerate. You
will
behave with propriety."

Her mouth slid into a challenging smile that
reached her emerald eyes. "We'll see."

He struggled to control his rising
temper.

"What time do you think we will arrive in
Bath?" she asked.

He shrugged. "The weather's fine. The horses
are well rested. I hope to be there by nightfall."

"It does get dark so dreadfully early this
time of the year."

He absently nodded.

"Have you seen Thomas's little lame
lad?"

At first he did not comprehend. Then he
remembered the lad in front of the milliner's where he purchased
Carlotta's pretty hats, and he vaguely remembered that Felicity's
husband had provided assistance that enabled the little boy to
walk.

It brought to mind his own recent
preoccupation with the urchin in front of his solicitor's office.
He had been unable to shake the pity he felt for the wretched boy.
The lad was so small to be so ill treated. "The milliner's lad
prospers, and he walks everywhere now—though he has a pronounced
limp."

"He's not the milliner's lad. His mother
assists the milliner. Isn't it wonderful what one man's care and
ministration can do for helpless creatures? I vow, now that I'm a
woman of means I shall help other prostrate children."

Had she intruded on his thoughts? It was the
very same thing he had been thinking. "Then we must start with the
wretched lad who hangs about my solicitor's office. When last I saw
him, snow was falling on the ground and the lad had no coat, and
there were great, gaping holes in shoes."

Her brows lowered and she murmured her pity.
"Surely you offered him assistance?"

"I merely gave the clerk enough money to
procure shoes and coat for the lad."

"We'll have to do more, Blanks."

His very thoughts. "Yes, I know, my
dear."

"I know what we can do!" she shrieked with
excitement. "Since we're to have no children of our own, we'll
bring him to live at Har-. . .I mean at Blankenship House."

"I've told you I don't want children."

"But you've admitted you have worried about
the lad. That proves you
like
children."