With His Ring (Brides of Bath Book 2) (5 page)

Patty stood back to survey Glee, then nodded
slowly. "We'll sweep that thick hair of yours back and allow some
curls to spiral about your fair face. You'll be quite the most
beautiful girl he's ever seen." She ran her eye over her mistress's
soft ivory dress, then began to brush out Glee's coppery
tresses.

"Woman, not girl," Glee corrected. "I want
Gregory Blankenship to think of me as a woman."

A deep smile brought out the dimples on
Patty's thin, fair face. "The gentleman will assuredly think of you
as a hot-blooded woman in
that
dress." Her glance flicked to
the top of Glee's white breasts that barely tucked into the bodice
of her gown.

When Patty was finished, Glee gushed with
admiration over her maid's accomplishment. Her hair looked so
lovely the bags under her eyes quite possibly might not be so very
noticeable after all.

Since none of the servants would be prepared
for breakfast at this early hour, Glee decided to take a turn
around the park. If she were lucky, one last scheme to capture
Blanks would present itself to her as she walked. Hopefully, the
mist would not saturate her hair too much. She had to look her best
at breakfast. Breakfast with Blanks.

* * *

Gregory's heels jabbed into his mount, and
the bay streaked through the wood surrounding Hornsby Manor,
swooping winds at his back. He lifted his face to the gathering
clouds and frowned. They had deuced better clear. He felt low
enough already without the weather threatening his departure.

Why did he feel so wretched? Lack of sleep,
of course, contributed to his malaise. Throughout the night visions
of that blasted Glee Pembroke flashed through his mind. He kept
picturing her as she looked when she had told him she would have to
wed
someone else
. Bloody hell. The girl deserved her prince
charming but would likely settle for something considerably
less.

He thought on how keenly the vile William
Jefferson had lusted after the girl last season. Because Jefferson
was possessed of wealth—something Glee indicated she would like in
a husband—Gregory's stomach turned at the thought of Jefferson
defiling Glee's innocence. Though purported to be shopping for a
wife, Jefferson had little regard for the female sex. He bragged
about his liaisons with married women, he left his mistresses with
no settlement, and he took perverse pleasure in deflowering
virgins. That he fancied whores meant he was likely disease ridden.
Worst of all was that business in London year before last. The man
would never do for Glee.
He'll get Glee over my dead body
,
Gregory vowed. He spurred ahead even faster, cursing under his
breath.

Something else had robbed Gregory of sleep
the night before: Glee's bizarre proposal. Why in heaven's name had
he turned her down? Wasn't her plan exactly what he needed? A
wife—and his fortune—both on his twenty-fifth birthday? A
wife
who would not really be a wife. He would be able to
keep his mistress, cavort with his bachelor friends, and would not
have to dance attendance on his youthful bride. A perfect solution
to his dilemma.

Then why
had
he not accepted her
offer? His initial reaction to her bold proposal had been to reject
it immediately. For as long as he could remember, he had vowed to
never marry, never to sire children. Then once he had firmly
rejected Glee, other reasons for denying her came to mind. He hated
like hell standing in the way of the happiness she deserved with
another man. With himself as her husband, she would never be able
to secure her dreams.

Her announcement that she would settle for a
loveless marriage to another, though, put the situation in an
entirely different light. At least if she married Gregory, Glee
would be under the protection of a man who valued her—who had for
most of his life. If he let her get away, she might throw herself
away on the beast William Jefferson. And that was completely
unacceptable.

Beset by his disturbing thoughts, Gregory
absently turned his sprinting mount back toward Hornsby Manor. Just
beyond the wood, he saw Glee circling the park. An unfamiliar
nervousness squirmed in his belly. He dismounted and, leading his
bay behind him, covered the spread of winter-bleached grass that
separated him from Glee.

When she looked up and smiled at him, his
stomach once again behaved in a most uncharacteristic manner. She
did not look like a girl, but a woman. A beautiful woman ripe for
matrimony. A vision in white. Unaccountably, his gaze riveted to
her expanse of alabaster white breasts that dipped into the soft
ivory muslin of her gown. Then his eyes traveled up her slender
neck to her pretty face and magnificent hair the color of cinnamon.
For a sliver of a second, the man in him took over, and he almost
forgot the ravishing creature was George's little sister.

But his serious side showed its rare face,
immediately squelching his own manly desires.
She is George's
little sister. A lady and a virgin.
Such thoughts only made him
realize he could not allow Glee to fall into the clutches of a man
like Jefferson.

"You're out early this morning," she said by
way of a greeting.

"I was going to say the same to you." Now
that he was beside her, he realized from her eyes that she had not
slept. He fell into step beside her, the manor house to their
backs. "I take it you slept no better than I."

Her eyes widened. "How did you know I didn't
sleep?"

"It was the same with me," he admitted. "May
I hope I was not the cause of your wakefulness?"

She stopped and put fists to waist, looking
up at him with flashing eyes. "Of course you were, you odious man."
Lifting her chin haughtily, she strolled forward. "An idiot could
see how good it would be for both of us if you were to marry
me."

"While it might be good for me, I fail to
see how the marriage would be advantageous to you—other than the
money, of course."

"I told you, I'm tired of being a spinster.
I hate being buried at Hornsby Manor. I crave a home of my
own—preferably in Bath—and the freedom to do as I please." She
stopped and gazed up at him. "I vow, if you don't marry me, Blanks,
I shall marry the first man who offers."

What if that man was William Jefferson?
Gregory cleared his throat. "We can't have that." Their flaring
eyes met and held. His stomach was most unsteady. "What of your
prince on the white horse?"

She turned and glanced at the horse trotting
behind them, tethered to Blank's right hand. "Bays suit me just
fine."

He silently winced. "I've been around you
long enough to know that you wished for a love match."

"Fie!" she said. "Love matches are nothing
more than childish dreams. Real marriage is about two people who
like
each other as we do. At least. . .I’ve always been
beastly fond of you, Blanks.” Her lashes lifted, lips pursed in
query.

“I’m very fond of you, too.”

“Good, for liking each other is the most
important component of marriage. I also believe marriage is a
business arrangement of sorts between two adults of the same class,
and it’s vital they respect one another's independence. "

They entered the wood along the same path
they traveled when on horseback. He proffered his crooked arm, and
they trod on under the canopy of barren branches. No words passed
between them the first five minutes, then Glee broadsided him with
a startling question. "Why do you not desire children of your
own?"

It took him several seconds to formulate an
answer. He had never told anyone the truth. Fear of losing a
beloved wife on childbed seemed a weakness, and he had spent his
life carefully chiseling himself into a man who had no weaknesses.
No Achilles heels. "Why must I have a reason?" he asked.

They had now entered the glen and walked in
the direction of the pond as if its shimmering water were calling
them. The wind had gotten stronger, rippling the water and tossing
Glee's hair errantly about her face.

She squeezed his arm. "I'm sorry. It was a
personal question I had no right to ask."

But she must be troubled by his aversion to
fathering children. He had known she would want the little rascals.
He had been so caught up in trying to respond to her question, he
had been unaware of the darkening skies. As seemingly gradual as a
man's hair turns gray, the clouds had turned a menacing black. The
air was heavy with mist. He could not deny that a rainstorm was
imminent. The problem was they would never be able to make it back
to Hornsby before the clouds burst.

Then he remembered the folly where he and
George had played as youngsters. It was atop the knoll on the other
side of the pond. He turned to Glee and spoke with urgency. "Come,
let's make it to the folly before the rain comes."

Hand in hand, they began to sprint across
the barren land, past the pond and up the knoll to the folly. It
looked like a round Greek temple. Ionic columns ringed it to form
an outer wall that was not really a wall. At least its domed roof
would keep them dry.

With rain now dropping in a staccato rhythm,
they began to run. By the time they ducked into its dryness, the
rain was falling in buckets. Thunder cracked, and lightning flashed
off in the distance.

He could see that Glee was shivering, and
though she put up a brave front, he knew she was frightened. He
draped his arm around her. She moved as close as she could to him
without touching.

He glanced at a low stone bench in the
middle of the covered structure. "Let's go sit on the bench," he
said. "It looks as if we could be here for quite some time."

They sat down, and she looked up at him. "It
doesn't look as if you'll be able to return to Bath today. I hope
that doesn't terribly disappoint you."

It would be difficult spending one more
night sitting across the whist table from Glee, knowing she was a
lady and George's little sister, and he could never assuage his
lustful needs with her.

"How could I begrudge anything which keeps
me in George's company longer? I have missed him greatly, to be
sure."

Shivering, she wrapped her arms around
herself as the great whooping winds swept moist air all around
them. "I didn't think it would rain today," she said with
disbelief.

The relentless pounding of rain was so loud
he was surprised he had heard her soft voice. "So you didn't dress
appropriately," he said with a smile, putting his arm around her
and pulling her into his embrace. He had known she was small, but
he was totally unprepared for how delicate she actually felt. He
felt rather as if her were squeezing a raw egg. He was afraid he
would crush her.

She looked up at him. The rain clung to her
long lashes, making them darker than normal—like her wet hair.

"Do you remember that day when we were
children and we found refuge from a wretched storm here?" she
asked.

He gave a little laugh. "If I recall
correctly, we were here for hours."

"You recall correctly," she said, her face
lifting into a smile. "I thought you were terribly gallant."

He gave her puzzled look. "Why?"

"Because you had insisted that George not
bar me from the folly. My brother was going through one of those
stages where he was always saying
no girls allowed
. You said
I wasn't a real girl. I was a sister, and that was something
altogether different."

Gregory threw his head back and laughed.
"There is no doubt now. You are every inch the girl."

She looked up at him, a serious look on her
face. "Not a girl, Blanks. A woman."

Good lord, did she have any idea how
seductive she could be?

He swallowed hard. "Yes, you are that." He
must think of a way to change the direction of his thoughts. "So
tell me, when is your sister due to return from the Continent?"

"Her last post indicated they would be in
Rome several more weeks, then return by way of Paris, where they
would stay for a few more weeks. Then they will return to England
for the birth of their first child."

"She is. . .increasing? I did not know."

"She and Thomas are ecstatic. George wants
the babe born here at Hornsby, but Thomas says it's to be born at
Winston Hall."

Ecstatic
. In the normal course of
things, a first-born child brought great joy to a loving couple. He
knew Glee would desire a child—no matter what she said. He was the
one who was not normal. He was the one who could never marry.

He thought of the wealthy Thomas Moreland
and of how deeply he loved Glee's sister, Felicity. What would the
man do if he were to lose his beloved wife on childbed? "Are the
women in your family good breeders?"

"Oh, yes. Mama did not die in childbed. In
fact, Papa said he could scarcely keep her down during her
confinement. Unfortunately, she was not a good rider. She died from
a fall from my father's horse."

"So that explains why you were so terrified
of horses when you were small."

She nodded. "You know, Blanks, you have
something with me you won't have with other women."

The little minx was devilishly determined.
"And what is that?" His eyes sparkled with mirth as he watched the
obstinate girl.

"History. I cannot remember a time when I
didn't know you. I remember when you first came to Hornsby. George
had written us so much about you and your athletic prowess. He was
most enamored of you. So when our family finally made your
acquaintance, I thought you were a dashing Lancelot."

"How disappointed you must have been."

"Not at all. I used to wish you were my
brother, instead of George because you were always so very kind to
me."

"I daresay that was because I had no sisters
of my own. Having a little sister was a pleasant novelty."