The Convenient Bride (11 page)

"Old
memories die hard, do they not?"

"Old
memories?" Clayton scoffed. "You know, Gregory, as childhood friends,
we really never addressed our differences. You were a liar and a cheat.
Something I forgave because of our youth. But I have seen you in action, and if
you dare harm one hair on that lady's head, I will come after you. Do I make
myself clear?'

A
twisted grin spread across Kingsdale's face. "So, you finally see her as a
gem, do you? It took you long enough. The girl has been in love with you since
we were schoolboys."

Kingsdale's
remark took Clayton off guard.

"Do
we understand each other?" Clayton asked in a dangerously low voice.

Kingsdale
stared at his fingernails, rubbing his thumb against his third finger.
"When we were children, I never saw anything in the freckled-face redhead
either."

The man
looked up, his eyes glittering with determination. "But I have come to see
that the lady has more brains than Wellington. I need a wife. I want a wife.
The lady has qualities I admire."

"You
mean she enjoys studying Egyptian culture?"

Kingsdale
smiled. "You know me well, my friend."

"I
don't think the lady's interested."

The
man's obsession with Egypt had made the rounds at White's. Everyone had
something they held dear to their heart. But now it was Kingsdale's strange
obsession with Miss Garland that truly troubled Clayton.

"Did
I tell you she fell in love with me a few years ago?" Kingsdale replied
proudly.

It
wasn't true. The man was lying.

Kingsdale
pursed his lips in triumph. "Yes, well, it would be a surprise to you;
wouldn't it? Anyway, I did a stupid thing. I left her. Had some business on the
Continent. By the time' I returned, she refused to see me. Bad timing, I
suppose."

Clayton
barely checked himself from taking the man apart. "It seems you have had
bad timing with all the ladies of your acquaintance."

Kingsdale
laughed again. "None of them sparked my interest. The devil of it is,
Clay, there is something about Miss Briana Garland that stirs my blood. I want
her, and it's time I wed."

Clayton's
lips thinned. "Well, she doesn't want you."

"You
were always the gentleman. But I will tell you something, being a gentleman
does not always win the ladies. One has to be a bit forceful, if you get my
meaning."

Clayton
took a step toward the man. "By Jove, if you force—"

"Clayton!"

The two
men turned to see Lady Emily coming toward them.

Kingsdale
lowered his voice. "Don't interfere, Clay. You were like a brother to me
growing up. I haven't forgotten that."

Clayton's
jaw tightened. "A brother? Yes, I found that out soon enough when you
stole Maria from under my very nose. Oh, I admit she was not the type one would
marry, only a simple girl from the country, but innocent all the same. However,
when you were done with her, the girl was sent to live in America with her long
lost aunt. Yes, I know your ways, and I don't like them."

Kingsdale
let out a sardonic laugh. "All is fair in love and war, eh? Like that time
at Vauxhall Gardens?"

The
question didn't deserve an answer. Clayton turned to his sister. For an
unguarded moment, he saw the cool glance Emily sent the man. Had Kingsdale
approached his sister without his knowing? The thought infuriated him. Of
course the man would not dare take a step in that direction now, not with
Stonebridge as her husband. But Miss Briana Garland was another matter.

Clayton
thought of the lady at Vauxhall. She had been lucky he had come along when he
did. What if it had been Miss Garland?

The
thought didn't sit well with him. Not at all.

Chapter Ten

"
B
riana,
child, did you hear a word I said?"

Briana
was staring out the window of the carriage as it rolled over the cobblestone
streets toward the outskirts of London. The steady clip-clop of hooves had
distracted her from Agatha's words, but it did nothing to divert her mind from
the events of the previous evening with Lord Clayton and Lord Kingsdale.

"I'm
sorry, Agatha." She gathered the shawl about her shoulders and turned
toward her godmother. "I was woolgathering."

The
older lady lifted a keen brow. "Does it perchance have something to do
with Lord Kingsdale and Lord Clayton? Or why I did not receive my punch last
night?"

Briana
was helpless to stop the blush from working its way across her cheeks. How much
did Agatha know?

"Never
knew Kingsdale well," the lady went on. "Heard he had an eye for Egyptian
art. Handsome gentleman. Well educated. His father died five years ago."
The parasol thumped. "Never liked the old badger. Emily's mother never
liked him either. La, if it is a choice between those two gentlemen, my dear, I
would definitely choose Lord Clayton."

Briana
peered out the window and picked up the small bouquet of daisies resting on her
seat. "I am not choosing anyone. I already told you my plans."

Agatha
frowned as the carriage came to a sudden halt in front of a small church.
"Your sister would not want you to devote your entire life to a cause that
keeps you from having a family. I made that choice and have regretted it ever
since."

Briana's
throat constricted at the sight of the small cemetery in the distance. "Today
was Clarice's birthday. She would have been nineteen. I cannot go back and save
her from the past, but I can help other women in the same predicament."

Her grip
tightened on the flowers. "Society throws these women aside like crumbs.
It isn't fair, Agatha. Women have no rights. It just isn't fair."

The
older lady gave Briana's knee a motherly pat. "Life isn't fair, child. But
you must not let the choices of some men ruin your entire life. Your father was
wrong, and I believe he died with the burden of your sister's death weighing
heavily on his heart."

Briana
looked away, tears clogging her throat. "Wh-what about the man who put
Clarice in that predicament in the first place? What about him?"

Agatha
sighed. "I wish I knew, child. I would have the man clapped in irons for
what he did to your sister. But that is neither here nor there. Go to her grave
and say your prayers. Tomorrow we leave for Grimstoke Hall."

Briana
took hold of the door, wishing Agatha would walk to Clarice's grave with her.
But the emotional toll on her godmother was too much.

Briana
leaned over and kissed the elderly lady on the cheek. "I love you."

Agatha
sniffed, gently batting her away. "Go on with you now. Two sobbing females
might scare James into driving away without us. I don't like to hurry you, child,
but it looks like a storm is brewing in the west."

Briana
glanced at the angry clouds closing in on them and gave her godmother a weak
smile, then made her way toward the graveyard. She stopped in front of a small
flat stone etched with Clarice's name. About a hundred feet away stood the
church, an ancient-looking building of red stone, decorated with stained glass
windows depicting Christ's birth.

Kneeling,
Briana placed the flowers on the gravestone. Tears stung her eyes as she
remembered her sister's sweet face.

"I'm
sorry, Clarice. I'm sorry you could not be here on your birthday."

She
raised her gloved hands and brushed back the tears trickling down her cheeks.
Oh, Clarice, I miss you so. A crisp wind blew through the trees, and she let
out a shuddering sigh.

"I'll
make things right, though. There are four women staying in the vicar's old
cottage not far from here. I intend to find them a better home soon. I have
positions set up for three of them after they give birth. I hope to give them a
chance for a better life, a better life than they would have had on their
own."

A chance
you were never given.

The
clatter of wheels and jangle of reins brought her head around. Dust billowed in
the air. A shiny black carriage was stopping in front of the church. A young
woman dressed in a simple ivory gown descended, followed by an older couple.
Another coach appeared and halted behind the first.

A
wedding.

Briana's
lips trembled as she bent toward the gravestone, brushing away the dirt lodged
in the crevices of her sister's name. "It should have been you, Clarice. I
hope the bride will be happy. I hope you're happy where you are now."

She let
out a shaky breath as she rose. "You're probably laughing at me now,
knowing my plans for Grimstoke's party."

Thunder
boomed above her, and Briana gathered her shawl tighter about her shoulders.
"Yes, I know, it's something you would insist on being part of. You were
always so impulsive. And you probably cannot believe Whitehall has asked me to investigate
the silly rumor. But being Violet's friend certainly helps."

Fat
raindrops plopped against her face, quickly increasing in intensity. She
shuddered, raising her gaze to the black clouds hovering over the church.

"Agatha
is livid, as you can well imagine."

A streak
of lightning pierced the sky and she frowned as the daisies began to droop
beneath the driving rain. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you. I'm so
very sorry."

"Briana!"
Agatha called worriedly.

Briana
gave a short wave to the older lady as she took one last glance at her sister's
grave. "I miss you, Clarice."

Wrapping
her shawl over her head, Briana hurried toward the carriage and almost slipped
as the footman assisted her inside.

Agatha
clucked her tongue as the door snapped shut. "Should have used my
parasol."

Briana
looked up, her green eyes twinkling with mischief as the rain trickled down her
face, mingling with her tears. "I would never do such a thing. What would
you do without it?"

Her
godmother managed a smile as the carriage jerked forward. "Don't play me
the fool, young lady," she said, wiping her eyes. "I have not
forgotten about Lord Grimstoke's. Depend upon it, you will let me do the
snooping."

Briana
wasn't going to agree to that. Whitehall had asked her to go, not just Agatha.
"I know his daughter, Violet. My cover is perfect. Besides, I don't
believe I am in any danger. We are, after all, only investigating a
rumor."

"Oh,
there is always a danger, child." Agatha frowned, her grip on the parasol
tightening.

Not a
good sign, Briana thought. "Is there something I should know?"

Steel
gray eyes locked on Briana's face. "We were correct. Whitehall has very
good reason to believe Lord Grimstoke holds a grudge against the Regent. It
seems the man lost a great deal in some card game with Prinny."

Briana's
eyes widened. "And so now we have motivation. Do you truly think there is
a possibility his lordship may be passing on information about the
Regent?"

"It
is only speculation. A slender thread at best. Whitehall has the most powerful
agents investigating more significant leads. Ours is only one of them."

"But
I cannot believe Lord Grimstoke would do such a thing."

Agatha
peered out the window. Rain beat against the carriage, blurring the
countryside. "Revenge is quite a motivation. Good friends can make the
best of enemies. Never forget that. Besides, everyone in the
ton
knows
Lord Grimstoke is a fickle creature. Seems solid as a rock one moment, then
caves in to drink and vices that could spin your head the very next."

Vices
that could spin her head? Briana waited anxiously, eager to expand her
education.

Agatha
gave her a stern gaze. "No, I am not telling you anything about that! But
you must see that this entire mission puts you in way too much danger. As I
mentioned, we have other agents working other places where the threat is
thought to be much greater, but—"

"No
buts, Agatha. This is perfect. Don't you see? As a friend to Violet, I can fade
into the crowd like I usually do. Snooping will come naturally."

"Fade?"
Agatha looked appalled. "My dear girl, if you were fading at last night's
ball, then I am going blind indeed."

Briana
fidgeted with her shawl. "An isolated incident, to be sure. Lord Kingsdale
and Lord Clayton were only playing against each other. I am nothing to them at
all."

Agatha
let out an annoyed sigh. "If you did not notice Lord Clayton's eyes
following you the entire night, I daresay you were the one who was blind."

Briana
studied the floor of the carriage. All her life she had wanted Lord Clayton to
notice her, and now that he had, she wanted nothing to do with him. A marriage
of convenience? It was insufferable. "I saw his attention on two other
ladies."

"Aha!
So you noticed, did you?"

Briana's
head snapped up. "And what does that mean?"

"It
means you have a fondness for the gentleman."

"I
do not."

"Well,
he won't be your problem at Grimstoke's anyway. Didn't see him on the list of
guests."

"The
man's a nuisance."

Agatha
eyed her thoughtfully. "Perhaps you should take a look at the list."
The lady pulled a paper from her reticule and handed it to Briana.

Briana's
gaze traveled over the paper and her heart stopped. She looked up at Agatha.

Agatha's
eyelids fell as she let out an aggravated sigh. "La, there was nothing I
could do about that. Seems Lord Kingsdale was invited at the last minute.
Always happens, you know. People are added and dropped at a moment's notice.
Never really know until one gets there."

Briana
handed back the paper. "I don't like him."

Agatha
sighed. "Knew that after the ball. Should have told me before I gave you
permission to take a turn about the room with the man and fetch me some
punch—that I never received, by the way."

Briana
dropped her head back against the leather seat. "Oh, it's such a mess. A
few years ago he asked me to marry him. He wasn't happy when I turned him down,
but it seems he wants to try his hand again. I have heard stories of his
riotous behavior in Town. I don't know what's true. But I don't like him."

"Not
all men are like Kingsdale, my dear."

"No,
but it seems the men I know are concerned only about their own welfare. My papa
was. The man who got Clarice with child was. Alistair was. Even Lord
Clayton—"

She
stopped herself before divulging to her godmother what had transpired in the
garden during the ball.

"Oh?
And what about Lord Clayton?"

"Nothing."

Nothing
at all, except he broke my heart. He’s like the rest of them. He doesn’t care a
whit about me or my feelings.

"We
are to journey to Grimstoke's tomorrow, then." Agatha pulled out another,
larger piece of paper that was folded in her reticule. "Here is a rough
map of the house."

"I
was there once," Briana said, "but it was years ago."

"If
our thread of information is true and Grimstoke Hall is the location,
Whitehall's mysterious source has identified the drop-off point as the library,
as I told you already."

Briana
looked up at her godmother. "A secret hiding place? It sounds, well,
rather formulated, does it not? Could we be decoys?"

"Possibly.
Sometimes agents are set up as decoys, but I cannot tell you the truth, because
I honestly don't know. I was delivered this information only days ago."

"But
a drop-off point given by some unknown source sounds so absurd."

Agatha
laid the house plans on the seat opposite her. "Absurd sounding, yes. But
many absurd things have led to dangerous consequences. Look at Napoleon. Who
would have thought the little Corsican could conquer as much as he did?"

Briana
knew Agatha was right. Absurd as it sounded, they had to take this seriously.
Dropping her gaze to the map, she studied the house. "A drop-off point
could be in any of the books, for all we know. There must be a thousand of
them."

"Yes,
a daunting task." Agatha's eyes began to gleam. "However, we do have
other clues. There is, as you know, the specific area of Grimstoke's
desk."

Briana
laughed. "Can it be so easy?"

"If
there are any missives at all, Headquarters believes they will be in that very
area."

"I
take it the source conveyed this information?" Briana replied
sarcastically. "How very convenient and utterly silly."

"Indeed,"
Agatha said. "Nevertheless, it is the information we have been given. And
having you fade into the walls will be impossible with Kingsdale there."