Her Secondhand Groom (8 page)

Before they’d climbed into the carriage, she’d said she’d been duped, and the look on her face both then and now made him want to believe her in the worst way. Perhaps
she
really hadn’t been a part of this, or at least hadn’t been given a choice in any of this. She wasn’t the most beautiful girl imaginable with her thick mess of brownish-blonde hair, stone grey eyes that appeared positively gigantic due to her excessively thick spectacle lenses, and her attractive but not beautiful face. Perhaps her father saw an opportunity to give her what she’d never have a chance at otherwise, and forced her to play the role. She didn’t strike him as the sort to deliberately take advantage of a situation. That much he could tell just by looking at her, and that’s why he suddenly felt a tinge of sympathy and guilt. Perhaps he should have treated her a bit better in the churchyard.

He closed his eyes, folded his arms, and slunk down in his seat. It was of no account now. He’d already acted the part of the beastly lord. He couldn’t do anything about it now except be more mindful of her feelings when he went to speak to her father. No doubt returning to her family home tonight would be humiliating for her; therefore, he needed to handle this as tactfully as possible. It was the least he owed her for being so nasty to her at the church.

His thoughts swirled together and trailed off as he relived those few minutes where he lifted her veil and saw her face. Once, when he was a boy of twelve, he’d gotten into a fight at Harrow and was delivered a swift punch in the breadbasket. Raising that veil this morning had the exact same effect on him. In one brief second, he’d gone from feeling in control of everything to having an empty feeling spread over him as the very air was knocked from his lungs. It was terrible.

But not as terrible as the anger that soon followed.

Unfortunately, he’d taken that anger out on the wrong person.

Or so he hoped.

No, or so
she
hoped.

If he found out she’d had more to do with this than he thought, he’d―

The carriage lurched and Patrick nearly ended up on the floor.

Kate giggled and brought her hand to her mouth with a loud smack in an effort to stifle her laughter.

It didn’t work.

Repositioning himself on the squabs, Patrick murmured an apology followed by a brief sentence about woolgathering. He snorted. Woolgathering was not the word for what he’d been doing. He’d been brooding and he knew it. He was at such a loss for what exactly had happened this morning and who exactly was to blame he could hardly think straight. But one thing was certain, by the end of the day he’d have the whole truth and would no longer be thinking in circles.

But until then he’d have to play the part of the happy bridegroom and host this blasted wedding breakfast.

After that, he’d get his answers and may the Lord show mercy on the culprit.

Chapter 6

Juliet exhaled. That did nothing to settle her nerves as she sat down next to Lord Drakely for their sham of a wedding breakfast. Never once had she expected to actually be sitting in the chair reserved for the bride of this particular wedding. She just hadn’t. She had assumed he’d raise the veil and put a stop to the wedding.

She’d also assumed that part of the ceremony would come
before
they said their vows.

There was nothing she could do about it now. She’d overheard him request a meeting with Father after the breakfast. Surely he’d inform Father he wished to seek an annulment, then she could resume her simple life again.

For the most part anyway.

She still bristled at the fact he’d called her a fraud without even hearing the facts. He was the one who ought to be ashamed of his behavior and deserved to be called demeaning names, not her. But all things considered, it was unimportant. The important thing now was to get through this meal then find a way to live through the rest of the day holding onto even a thread of dignity.

To her left, Mother and Henrietta chatted incessantly about the wedding, while, to her right, Lord Drakely was talking across the table with some cousin of his, Sir Wallace or something like that, about some other wedding which had taken place recently. One where Sir Wallace had been the groom. Just where was his wife, then? She shrugged. She really wasn’t that interested. She dropped her eyes to her plate. Neither conversation taking place in either direction of her held much appeal. She’d rather eat her meal in silence and occasionally catch glimpses of the guests who seemed completely oblivious to the tension between the new bride and groom.

Risking a glance to her right, Juliet’s gaze fell on her groom. He really was a handsome man even if his personality was a tad on the beastly side. Truly, he was a sight to feast one’s eyes on. Unfortunately for him, Juliet had never been swayed by a handsome face. Having grown up as what most would consider to be ordinary, she’d learned external beauty was the last thing a person should use to form an accurate opinion of another’s personality. Often, hidden behind some of the handsomest faces were the most rotten of personalities. To help prove this point, one had to look no further than Lord Drakely.

She sighed. Perhaps he didn’t really have such an awful personality. Mayhap it was just around her the beast in him came out. Both times they’d encountered each other for more than five seconds he’d been rather unfriendly. But nobody else seemed to think so. Or at least nobody ever said so.

“
Are you going to eat, dear?” Mother asked, gesturing to her plate of untouched food.

“
I’m not hungry,” Juliet said honestly.

Mother nodded slowly. “Wedding night jitters?” she whispered in Juliet’s ear.

Juliet’s face flamed. “No.”

“
It’ll be all right, I promise,” Mother whispered again, patting Juliet’s arm. “There’s nothing to worry about. We all survive it.”

“
Shh,” Juliet whispered, glancing around to make sure nobody could hear their conversation. For whatever reason, there hadn’t been an equal number of men and women to attend the breakfast this morning and as a result Juliet, her mother, and Henrietta all sat in a row with no male escort in between them. She inwardly groaned and wished she’d insisted Father sit next to mother. Oh well, just another thing to remember for the next time she got married. She was now up to three: one, make sure the groom knows who the bride is; two, the veil is lifted after the vows are repeated; and three, Father needs to be seated next to Mother at the breakfast. The first seemed to be the most crucial with number three trailing a close second.

Time crawled as course after course was brought out. After the fifth plate Juliet quit pretending to pick her way through food. Instead, she stared at her plate and silently willed everyone to just leave. If this was a real wedding breakfast she’d enjoy the company, but since it wasn’t, she wanted nothing more than for everyone to go home so she could, too.

At long last the final guest who didn’t bear the Hughes name rode off in a carriage.

“
My study, Mr. Hughes,” came Lord Drakely’s cold voice, sending chills up and down Juliet’s spine.

With a slight nod which seemed to indicate he’d understood, Father started down the hall behind his lordship.

Not wanting to be left out of this little council, Juliet followed, too, walking as fast as her heeled slippers would allow.

“
This is a man’s matter,” Mother called after her.

Juliet ignored her. This was not a man’s matter. This matter involved her, therefore, she’d be right there in that room to hear it. She may have been outside the room eavesdropping for their first meeting, but she’d be in the room for their second. She’d make sure of it.

“
Go wait with your mother,” Father said to Juliet wearily just before crossing the threshold into Lord Drakely’s very large and masculine study.

“
I think not,” Juliet said defiantly, breezing by him and taking a seat on Lord Drakely’s plush red settee. “I will not have my future discussed without having any input.”

“
What are you talking about?” Father asked, blinking owlishly at her.

Without so much as a glance in his highhanded lordship’s direction, Juliet bluntly stated, “His lordship would like an annulment.”

“
Pardon?” Father and her hoax of a husband choked out in unison.

“
I know you think I’m daft, my lord, but let me tell you a thing or two. In this family we speak frankly, and quite frankly, you brought my father in here to announce your plans to petition an annulment. Am I right?”

Lord Drakely stared at her unblinkingly. “Well, yes,” he burst out after a brief moment. “And I think I’m owed the courtesy of your compliance in the matter. Not that it really would matter one way or the other.”

“
An annulment,” Father wheezed, sinking into a vacant leather chair.

“
Come now, Mr. Hughes,” Lord Drakely coaxed, “you didn’t honestly think I’d just let you make a mockery of me, did you?”

“
A mockery?” Father repeated.

Juliet so badly wanted to get up off the settee and fan her father before he fainted. She clasped her hands together in her lap to help fight the urge. It wouldn’t do to give this demeaning man any more ground than he already had. Father may be having a moment of shock right now, but he had his pride, too.

“
Also,” Lord Presumptuous continued, “now that our bargain has been forfeited, I expect full payment of your loan upon the completion of Miss Hughes’ schooling.”

Father made some odd gurgling noise in his throat and patted his chest while Juliet burned with rage. Was this how it was to be, then? Perhaps it was time to set him to rights. She knew she should be ashamed for the thoughts she was entertaining about how delicious his reaction would be when he learned her real identity and the fault was all his. She just couldn’t care.

Of course she started the day with the notion she was going to shock him a little at the church, but just now, with him bullying her father this way, she was going to revel in his surprise and rub his nose in his mistake. Just see if she didn’t.

“
My lord,” Juliet said sharply, garnering his full attention. “You’ll apologize to my father at once and rescind your last statement.”

A sound that could have passed for a snort or a laugh erupted from somewhere in Lord Presumptuous’ vicinity. “And who do you think you are to demand such a thing?”

“
Juliet Ann Ramsey, Lady Drakely. Your wife.”

He stared at her in disbelief and shook his head. “No you’re not. You may have been asked to pretend to be, but we both know you’re not.”

“
Yes. I am,” she said, standing up to her full five foot four inches and meeting his intent gaze.

He scoffed. “Yes, and I’m a thinner version of Prinny.”

“
Are you now?” she asked, challenging him with her eyes.

“
You know full well I’m not. Just as you’re not Juliet.”

“
And if I can prove that I am?”

The look of disbelief on his face coupled with the snort that rent the air only served to irritate Juliet more. “I don’t know how on earth you could possibly do that.”

“
Easily.”

With an arrogant air fit for a king, Lord Presumptuous took a seat and waved his hand in front of himself in a way that spoke volumes about his lofty attitude which went hand in hand with his lofty position.

Shooting Father a smile she hoped he understood to mean she had this well-in-hand, she marched over to the bell pull and gave the red velvet chord a hearty yank.

Less than a minute later, the tall, thin butler named Links entered the room.

Juliet strolled over to him and spoke soft and low.

“
What are you doing?” Lord Presumptuous barked. “If you think he’s going to run off and see some hack you call a physician and pay him to forge you some sort of nonsense document saying he was present at your birth and shove it under my nose and expect me to accept that, you’re mistaken. Not only is Links loyal to a fault, no document will prove to me just who you are.”

“
No document is being fetched,” Juliet said coolly. “Your daughters are.”

“
The devil they are,” Lord Presumptuous said, lurching to his feet. “Those girls don’t need to be put in the middle of this. It’s bad enough they’re going to be disappointed tonight when I have to tell them they’ll have to wait for another motherne―”