The Convenient Bride (23 page)

Briana
flushed, knowing this man could turn her heart to pudding with just one of his
kisses.

"Not
there, my lord," she murmured, looking at her food.

Sir
Gerald snickered as he tipped the water glass to his lips. "Not the Romeo
one has always heard about, eh?"

Briana stared
at the man, aghast. Just then, the footman came from behind to place a silver
pot of hot coffee upon the table. Clayton accidentally bumped the servant as
the man leaned over the table and the coffee spilled onto Sir Gerald's lap.

Briana
leaned back as Sir Gerald shot up in pain. Curses flew from his mouth, and the
whole assembly fell deathly quiet. The entire front of the man's breeches was
steaming with coffee.

Flabbergasted,
Briana glanced at Clayton, who stood there, doing nothing, a grim smile dancing
in his eyes.

The
footman, who still held the empty coffeepot in his hands, mumbled a sincere
apology. Grimstoke's face reddened as he shouted orders. Sir Gerald gritted his
teeth and started for the door. A few snickers followed the man, but within minutes
everyone went back to eating and conversing.

Briana
glanced over her shoulder as Clayton took Sir Gerald’s seat. "That was
despicable," she said under her breath.

"What?"
Clayton said. "I learned it from you."

Briana
pressed her lips together in angry silence.

Her
husband leaned closer. "As to my cousin's latest comment that sealed his
fate, I am not about to take advantage of you, if that is what you think."

"You
already took advantage of me," she accused, keeping her face to her plate.

"We
are drawing stares, dear wife. Meet me in the library, then, if you have fear
of me in our chambers. That place seems like a haven to you lately."

Briana
sipped her coffee, her insides burning with grief. "I have no fear of you,
my lord. I have disgust."

His hands
curled by his side. "All the more reason for us to talk this out. I
believe Gerald's words may have offended you."

She
could no longer look at him, for she knew his cousin's accusations were true.
"I will see you in the library, my lord."

"Clayton,"
he whispered with a hint of domination that irked Briana to no end. "Your
husband's name is Clayton."

A sob
escaped Briana's throat as she hurried up the stairs and hastened into Agatha's
chambers, closing the door behind her.

"Whatever
is the matter, child?" Agatha's arms flew out to catch her. Briana fell
against her aunt's chest.

"He
lied to me, Agatha! Clayton lied to me!"

Agatha
patted her back. "Tell me all about it."

Briana
sniffed and wiped her eyes. "He married me to gain a castle and money. He
doesn't love me at all."

"That's
not true. He loves you very much."

"No,
he doesn't love me. A man who is in love, real love, would not lie like he
did."

"Just
slow down, take a few deep breaths, and tell me the entire story. I'm sure he
had a reason for what he did."

Briana
told her godmother everything about Sir Gerald, the castle, the money, and
Clayton's meeting with her in the library in a few minutes.

"It
seems he wishes to air his side of the story. As his wife, you have done him a great
disservice by not listening to him."

"You
are in agreement with him?" she asked, the realization slicing her heart
in two.

"I
am not siding with anyone. I knew something about that dingy old castle and
that miser who owned it. But if you ask me, I do think it childish of you to
believe everything Sir Gerald has said. There are two sides to everything, you
know. Even with our mission. In fact, I have received notice to leave."

Suddenly
Briana became aware of her aunt's carriage dress and packed trunks. "You
received notice this morning?"

"Yes.
I cannot tell you how. But Whitehall believes the enemy has been in Bath all
along. I am to journey there first thing. I will not be directly involved, so
you need not worry."

Briana
gripped the bedpost. "I am to go with you?"

"No,
you are to stay here with your husband. But if you see any suspicious signs,
then by all means send word to Whitehall as soon as you possibly can."

Briana
turned away. They had been on a wild-goose chase after all. And because of the
mission, she was now a married woman. Her bottom lip trembled. What in the
world had she done? "I plan to meet him in the library. But I don't want
to."

"You
must. He is your husband now."

A tear
slipped down her cheek. "I love him, but don't you see? He lied to me. I
can never forget that."

Agatha
gave her a hug. "You'll work it out. Young love is fragile, child. Now,
give this old lady a kiss before I leave."

"I
will miss you," Briana sobbed.

"I
am not leaving England, dear. I will see you often. And do not let that mama of
yours into your house for more than a week at a time. Remember, your husband is
your first priority. Speak with him and I am sure everything will work
out."

Confused
and hurt, Briana forced a smile. Clayton was her husband now, but he had
married her for reasons he had kept secret, and she would never forget that
fact as long as she lived.

Chapter Eighteen

C
layton had the writing box popped
open as he examined the secret drawer. He had searched the library as soon as
he had left breakfast. He believed Agatha correct. The two ladies had been sent
on a pointless assignment while the players in the game were somewhere else. He
had seen this type of scenario played out in the war, but blast it all, he
didn't like the ladies embroiled in any kind of plot, false or otherwise.

The
click of the door turned his head.

"Briana,"
he said calmly, closing the box.

Her chin
lifted in that adorable, defiant manner and he frowned. He had not been
truthful and she knew it.

"My
lord," she said, taking a seat as far away from him as she could.

"Afraid
of me?" The pain in her eyes turned his heart.

"Certainly
not."

He sank
back against the leather chair behind Grimstoke's desk. "What did that
pompous idiot tell you?"

"That
you needed a convenient bride."

"You
knew I needed to marry."

Her face
tightened. "But I didn't know why. I thought it because of your family,
your responsibility as the son of a duke."

He
stood, walking toward the fireplace and trailing his hand along the bricks.
"What does it matter why I married you?"

"Why?"
she cried, rising. "How could you ask such a thing?"

He
turned quickly, realizing his words were chosen poorly.

"You
deceived me," she went on. "You led me to believe you ... you loved
me! My sister trusted a man, and nothing became of it but heartache. And it
seems I am to follow in her footsteps."

His
expression hardened. "Pray, explain yourself."

"It
means I cannot trust you," she said deliberately. "I can never trust
you with my heart or anything else. You wanted money and a castle more than you
ever wanted me. How can I live with that? With you?"

A long,
brittle silence fell between them, and Briana felt as if a thick sheet of ice
had settled over the room. The slap of his hand against the fireplace made her
jump. His face was cold and unyielding as he returned her gaze. Two sapphire
eyes impaled her with such fury, she knew she had pushed him too hard. He was
not going to back down, but neither was she.

"Then
perhaps you should live without me, madam. If you think me as loose as one of
these blasted bricks, we can part and go our separate ways as I suggested the
first time I proposed marriage."

"Perhaps
we should," she snapped, letting her anger get the best of her. "This
mission is done with anyway. Agatha received a letter telling her so."

His eyes
flashed with recognition, and for a fleeting second she thought he was going to
drag her into his arms and kiss her. But she was wrong. His pride had been hurt
along with hers.

"Well,
wife, all has been said, has it not? You obviously do not wish to be by your
husband's side." A muscle ticked in his jaw as he skirted the desk and
strode toward the door.

"Good
day to you, madam. I shall take my leave of you within the hour. Rest assured
that many of the guests will be departing today as well. It seems there is a
better party in Brighton. But never fear, my departure will be seen as nothing
more than a journey of business."

He was
within a foot of the door when he turned. "As to your future, you may
contact me through my solicitor and draw upon my account at the bank. You may
live with your godmother, if you wish. I will send the money to her
address."

"I
don't want your money," Briana cried, hurt that he would not fight for
their love. "I don't want anything of yours. I never want to see you
again."

His eyes
flicked to her stomach. "If you find yourself with child, madam, not
seeing me will indeed be a wish I cannot allow. Good day."

As soon
as the door snapped closed, Briana let her tears spill down her cheeks.
Oh,
Clayton.

With a
heartfelt sob, she dropped her head to the arm of the sofa and squeezed her
eyes shut. Why did it have to end this way?

Despair
welled up inside her as her sobs turned to small hiccups of pain. She didn't
know how long she sat there crying before she finally heaved a deep sigh,
trying to compose herself. With her swollen eyes and red nose, she didn't want
to run into anyone she knew. So she closed her eyes and tried to figure out
what to do. The minutes stretched into hours as she fell fast asleep.

When she
awoke, it was half past noon. Two hours after her husband had left her. He was
probably gone and Agatha, too.

She
looked about the room, wondering what she should do now. She was a married
woman, for goodness' sake. That meant she was tied to one man, but it also
meant she could venture places that a single woman was not allowed. She could
travel to France, to America, to the East Indies—anywhere she wanted to go.

Assailed
by a bitter sense of loneliness, she rose and wandered across the room, eyeing
the writing box. How could things fall apart so swiftly? She wrapped her arms
around herself and let out a shudder as she turned toward the fireplace.

The
memory of Clayton slamming his hand into bricks brought tears to her eyes. She
would never stop loving him. It just wasn't possible.

She
sniffed and trailed her finger along the exact place his hand had touched. Had
she been too harsh with him? Was it pain she had seen in his eyes when he
turned to leave? Was she the one who had been too stubborn?

"Oh,
Clayton," she murmured, her chest squeezing with regret. "Why
couldn't it be better between us?"

She
leaned her head against the mantel, trapped in her own selfishness. She hated
to admit how much she needed him. How much she loved him. A crumble of mortar
fell from a brick and she pushed what she could back into place. She wished she
could do the same with her marriage. Make everything right again. Fill the
holes and replace the emptiness in her heart.

She
paused suddenly, staring at her hands. Could it be? The fireplace was old and
probably needed to be redone. Many of the bricks were chipped, so it hadn't
occurred to her before, but...

She
tugged at the loose brick. Every fiber in her being tensed. A chunk of mortar
fell to the floor and the brick loosened away. Good grief!

Her
heart hammered with anticipation as she snaked her hand into the hole. When her
fingers touched paper, she almost wept for joy. The secret missive! She clasped
the document and yanked her hand from the hole.

"Always
the little bluestocking, eh?"

Briana
spun around and froze as Kingsdale clicked the door closed and turned the key.

"Searching
for information wherever you can find it, my dear." A wicked grin crossed
his face as he slowly came into the room. He stretched out his hand. "I
believe that is for me.

Her
senses reeled as the situation finally sank in. "Y-you?"

He
wrenched the paper from her hands, threw her into the chair, and sighed in
exasperation. "You could have been mine, Briana. But you married the son
of a duke instead. And now"— he picked up the brick and returned it to the
fireplace—"you have stumbled onto a plot that may affect all of
England." He frowned at her and shook his head. "I did try to warn
you."

"I
doubt that," she said, angry at herself for not seeing through this man.

"Really?"
he said mockingly. "I told you about my brother, did I not? He died in the
war."

"I
fail to see why you would want to commit treason."

"Treason."
His laugh was cold and lifeless. "It is retribution, my dear. Prinny
killed my brother. He placed my only sibling in a regiment that was wiped out
in its first battle."

"That
wasn't the Regent's fault."

"My
brother was all I had left of my family."

Briana
was slowly beginning to see how his warped mind worked. Perhaps if she played
on his emotions. "You loved your brother, then?"

Kingsdale
sneered. "Loved him? I raised the pup from when he was a babe. My father
didn't care, and any governesses were too wrapped up in my father. I literally
begged our fat prince not to send Charles. I asked that he be given a desk
job."

"And
the Regent refused?" A note of false sympathy trailed on the end of her
question.

Kingsdale
seemed to soften. "Refused? The man laughed at me. He had promised my
brother, and there was nothing for it. He dismissed me as if I were a flea in
his ale. Me? Can you believe it?"

Briana
looked around cautiously.

"Don't
even try it, my dear."

She
stole a look at Kingsdale's face and regretted it instantly.

"You
know," he said, "I can see the resemblance now."

"What
resemblance?"

"With
your sister."

Her
insides chilled. "What do you know of Clarice?"

"My
dear woman, I was the father of her child."

Briana
felt the room tilt. "W-why?"

"Because
you hurt me, Briana."

"I
hurt you?"

"You
wouldn't marry me. I had plans to go to Egypt. But you threw them in my
face."

His
confession made her speechless. If she had but known what kind of man he was,
she would have warned her sister.

"I
have found a group that wants the Regent dead." His laugh alone betrayed
his madness. "It worked so perfectly, you see. His own people hate him.
Most of them are fed up with his spending and lazy attitude."

"You
won't get away with this."

He shook
the paper in his hand. "Grimstoke will be paid for his information. And
yes, I will get away."

"Lord
Grimstoke?"

"Yes,
didn't you know the poor man lost at the tables? And whom do you suppose he
lost to?"

Briana
didn't need to answer. She knew already. Agatha had mentioned that Grimstoke
had lost a good sum to the Prince Regent. It seemed revenge was a good
motivator after all. But Clarice? Why would he hurt such an innocent child?

"That's
right. Our dear Prinny. Fat, selfish slob that he is took almost everything
Grimstoke had. Of course, our dear, devoted host thinks we're just kidnapping
the old boy, scare him a bit, give him his just desserts."

"But
you intend to kill the Regent?"

He put
one hand on the desk, leaning toward her. "My, you have always been a
clever little thing."

"What's
in the papers?" she asked, meeting his glare with one of her own.

He
cupped her chin in a tight hold. "Prinny's route and scheduled times when
he will arrive in Bath later this month. It's a perfect ploy for a highwayman,
don't you think?"

Briana
was thinking furiously. She had to escape. The man was mad. Her eyes scanned
the room. The window. That was her only way out. "How do you know the
information you have is true?"

"True?"
he smiled. "Grimstoke is still considered a loyal friend to Prinny. He
knows the Regent's schedule as much as a clock knows the time." He flicked
a caressing finger against her cheek. "That's how these games are played,
my dear. It's always a friend. And we have found many friends in high
places."

He gazed
pointedly at the loose brick. "Our dear, pompous host has no idea who I
am. He only wants his money returned to him with a bit of revenge against the
Regent. The dropping point was to be here. The man ain't so prim and proper as
one would think, is he? Greed will always have its price."

He
leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. "We have sold information to
countries around the world, setting Whitehall on its ear. Although you, my
dear, impress me. I knew Miss Appleby was involved in clandestine activities,
but I had no idea about you. Of course, you must know the old woman is chasing
another bad lead, is she not?"

The
thought that the man might harm Agatha made Briana's stomach clench.
"You'll never get away with it."

Her
words seemed to amuse him. "I think you said that before. What? You intend
to stop me? I really don't think so, my dear. I saw your husband leaving here
two hours ago. A lovers' spat, eh?"

Briana
wished with all her heart that she had never let Clayton leave in anger.
"What do you intend to do with me?"

Kingsdale's
gaze lingered on her face and he seemed to hesitate. "What I have done to
every obstacle in my path, especially to anyone who dares to interfere in my
plans. Be it royalty or women, I will not waver. But," he said
regretfully, "this will be the first time I have loved the person
..."

Briana
swallowed nervously, trying to determine how fast she could make it to the
window and throw it open.

"It's
really a horrid shame, but alas ..."