The Convenient Bride (20 page)

Briana's
laugh became a stream of steady tears. "Oh, Agatha," she said, giving
the woman a heartfelt hug. "I do love you so."

Clayton
found himself pacing the gardens behind the ancient gazebo, waiting for Briana
to respond to his summons. He hated meeting in secret, as if they had done
something wrong, but he wanted some privacy. Their crazed host had been hounding
him like he was some unruly schoolboy about to bolt, and it took every ounce of
willpower for Clayton not to hang the man by his toes on the nearest
chandelier.

Confound
Grimstoke! The man had visited Clayton in his chambers, making certain the
special license had been obtained and that Clayton was going to fulfill his
part of the bargain by marrying the lady in question.

In
addition, the odious man had stopped Clayton in the hall only minutes ago,
verifying the time everyone would be meeting at church. However, Clayton knew
the man was only double-checking to make certain Clayton was still in the
vicinity.

Clayton
lifted his gaze to the blue sky and closed his eyes.
Dear God, what am I to
do now?
 He would rather Miss Garland consent to marriage than force her
into it. But their host had made it abundantly clear he would not back down.
Lord Grimstoke would not tolerate a scandal under his roof.

Clayton
stared at the back of the aged gazebo and grimaced. What a pompous ass. A few
months ago he'd seen Grimstoke at a masquerade with a lady who was definitely
not his wife. But that was the way of the
ton
—as long as one played
along with Society's rules, it was all right.

Clayton
seemed to recall that it was last year when Grimstoke had been so foxed he'd
lost a grand sum of money to the Prince Regent. But the devil of it was,
Society didn't look down upon that either. Men won and lost at gaming tables
all the time.

Yet why
was it that Society still made women suffer most in times of disgrace?
Clayton's fingers curled into his palm. Dash it all, he was not about to let a
woman suffer because of him.

From the
look Miss Garland had given him yesterday, he wondered if he would have to drag
her to her wedding. Nevertheless, he had obtained the special license, and in
less than an hour he was to set out for the tiny church two miles away.

It
didn't help matters that stories were already circulating about Miss Garland's
disappearance last evening. She had stood out like a princess in her
fashionable gowns of silk and lace.

Though
she wasn't a conventional beauty, she was a pretty little thing. But to
Clayton, it was more than what she wore that fascinated him. Perhaps it was the
way her eyes laughed when she played with Gabrielle. Or maybe it was the way
she carried herself when no one seemed to be looking. Or was it the way she
cared for the people she loved, like that mother of hers? Or was it partly her
desire to help those poor women in need?

He
wasn't sure what it was, but she definitely had him hooked. And it didn't help
his disposition any when she wore those striking gowns, drawing his attention
and that of every other gentleman in the room like flies to porridge.

Could it
be love? Yes, he thought wryly, it could be just that.

He
smiled. There was a chance this could work out better than he'd expected. Love
wasn't so bad after all. He realized now that he had never truly loved Serena.
With her, it had been a selfish kind of worship. But to love Miss Garland ...

He
almost laughed out loud. With her, it would never be a marriage of convenience,
because there was nothing convenient about Briana Garland at all. He had given
himself permission to love again, and by Jove, it was a wonderful feeling.

The
rustle of fabric turned his head. A head of shimmering auburn curls came into
view, and a grin pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Miss
Garland had changed from the blue silk he had caught a glimpse of this morning.
She probably thought she was clothed more demurely, but the lady looked
irresistible, dressed in a light green gown scooped at the neck, revealing her
creamy white skin. And Gabrielle was right. The lady resembled a fairy with her
luminous green eyes and freckled nose. She was adorable.

"Good
afternoon, Briana."

She
halted a few feet from him. Black circles surrounded her eyes, making him feel
guilty as hell. "I have not given you leave to call me by my first name,
my lord."

He
suppressed a laugh. The woman had spirit.

"Are
you laughing at me?" she snapped.

"We've
known each other for years, not to mention you are my betrothed. That gives me
some right to use your Christian name."

Her chin
rose a notch. "If you think marrying me will give you all rights, you are
sorely mistaken."

He
frowned, wondering if she thought him as cruel as Kingsdale or even her father.
"You think me a tyrant? Is that how you see me?"

"No,"
she said, dropping her head and kicking a pebble off the path. "But I
don't like this. I don't like being forced."

"You
think I like it?" he asked, remembering her words that she thought he had
planned the entire scene. "Contrary to what you may believe, I did not
plan this."

"But
you wanted a wife. You already made your intentions known to me at the Elbourne
ball. You are the son of a duke. It's clear to me and everyone else in Society
that if your brothers do not provide an heir, you must."

The pain
that flickered in her eyes squeezed his chest. Did he dare tell her the truth?
No, his disclosure of the will might send her flying back to London, reputation
or not.

"Indeed,
you are correct. I needed a wife and I have my reasons."

"Why
not Miss Cherrie Black, then?"

Was that
jealousy in her expression? "I am not considering her or any other lady,
Miss Garland. The fact of the matter is we were seen together in a compromising
situation and we must marry."

She
stared him directly in the eye, her expression cool. "I already spoke to
my godmother about this."

He
considered as much, but he was devilishly glad that blasted parasol had been
damaged in the accident.

"And
I am ready to marry you, my lord."

His eyes
widened considerably. "You are?"

"I
have my mother to think of, let alone Agatha and her guilt in all this. I have
no wish for anyone to suffer needlessly because of something I did. And I do believe
Grimstoke could make things very difficult if I do not comply."

What
about love? he wanted to ask. Still, he realized they had reached a point in
their relationship where some rules must be set. If she had had any love for
him before, she certainly didn't show it now. He wished she would tell him what
she was thinking.

"I
will never hurt you, Briana."

"But
you already have," she said hoarsely, spinning around, dragging her
fingers across the gazebo.

He
placed his hands on her shoulders. The instinct to protect this woman
overwhelmed him. "How?"

She
shrugged. "I don't want to trust you, and you are making me do just
that."

"I
care for you, Briana. In fact, I believe I am beginning to love you."

"Love
me?" she asked softly, angling her head toward him. "How could you
love me?"

"Let's
see. I love your freckles, for one."

She
blushed. "You are too charming, my lord."

Ah,
progress. "I am asking you to marry me, Briana. I will not force you. But
your reputation is at stake. If Grimstoke follows through with his threat, you could
be ruined. However, if you have no wish to go through with this plan, I could
whisk you away to the Continent. You and your mother. The scandal might die
down in time, and no one would even remember what happened here."

She
shook her head. "Violet is a dear friend, but sometimes she gets carried
away. I fear she has already spread the news of our upcoming marriage to Miss
Black and a few other guests."

"Has
she compromised your name?"

Briana
shrugged, not knowing what to say. Violet could stretch the truth sometimes,
not realizing the pain she inflicted. In Briana's estimation, the story would
never die down.

"Then
I will ask you again. Will you marry me?"

Briana
thought she caught a note of vulnerability in his voice. "Yes, my
lord." She lifted her face to him, and the memory of their last kiss
lingered in her mind.

He
seemed to read her thoughts. His touch was oddly comforting when he took her
hand. "There will be no scandal. You will see. May I call you Briana
now?"

Her lips
twitched. "Yes, my lord."

"Clayton.
My name is Clayton," he whispered. "Let me hear you say it."

"Clayton,"
she said softly.

He
pulled her closer and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. "In a few hours,
you'll be mine, Briana."

"What
did you say?"

"I
said in a few hours."

"No,
the other part."

"That
you'll be mine?"

"Yes,"
she said in a clipped tone. "I want you to know that I will do as I wish
when we marry. Is that clearly understood?'

His
brows narrowed. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"I
wish a house in Town."

"Done."

She
flinched, surprised at his quick answer. "I want no words from you about
how I go about my business."

His
expression hardened. "Exactly what kind of business?"

She
folded her hands across her chest "I find your question irrelevant my lord.
Since we will be living apart."

"Clayton,"
he retorted. "I thought we covered that already."

"Clayton,"
she said coolly.

Instead
of arguing, he had the urge to take the lady into his arms and kiss her
soundly. But first he needed to marry the termagant. "Who the devil said
we would be living apart?'

"You
did, of course."

"I
did not."

"My
lord, a word with you, if you please."

Briana
turned abruptly when Agatha's voice sounded behind her. She frowned, not happy
to see her godmother hobbling about on her bad ankle.

Clayton
scowled. "What the deuce are you doing out here with that injured ankle,
madam?"

Gray
eyes snapped at him. "After what happened yesterday, the real question is,
should you be out here with my godchild?"

"I
am to marry the lady, Miss Appleby. I believe I am entitled to a few minutes
alone with her."

"Well,
my lord, by the sound of your conversation, I can see I came just in
time."

Briana
gasped. "Agatha!"

Clayton's
brows rose in amusement. "You've made your point."

"Agatha,
you should go back to bed," Briana said worriedly.

"In
a minute, child. I have another point to make." The older lady took in a
deep breath and rested against a knotted oak for support.
"Actually"—she paused to wipe the sweat from her brow—"three
points, to be exact."

"I am
all ears, madam."

"But
Agatha," Briana protested, "you need to stay off that ankle."
Her concerned gaze swung to Clayton. "Don't just stand there. Do
something!"

The man
broke into a smile. "What would you like me to do? Sweep her into my arms
and force her back into her chambers?"

"Yes!"
Briana said impatiently.

"Listen
here, you two ... puppies!" Agatha interrupted. "I will say my piece
if it's the last thing I do."

Clayton's
eye glittered appreciatively in Agatha's direction. "Go on, madam."

Agatha
gave him a satisfied nod. "Very well, my lord. At least one of you is
listening. First, I want Briana to have full access to her planned home for
women who are, hmmm, let's just say, found in delicate situations."

Clayton
exchanged gazes between Briana and Agatha. "As her husband, what role do I
play in this?"

Agatha
sent him a pointed glare. "Nothing but your support."

Briana
held her breath. Clayton looked at her with such possessiveness, the light in
his eyes warmed her entire body.

"That's
all?" he asked huskily.

Briana
nodded uncomfortably.

His
magnetic smile took her breath away. "Agreed."

"Good,"
Agatha said, looking very pale. "Next and probably the most
important..."

"Yes,
Miss Appleby?" Clayton's eyes gleamed with such mischief, Briana wanted to
shake him. Agatha was about to fall flat on her face and he was smiling.

"You
must love her," Agatha said, her finger pointing directly at his heart.

Oh, good
grief! Briana wanted to sink into the ground.