The Convenient Bride

The

Convenient Bride

-Book 3-

The Clearbrook Series

by

Teresa McCarthy

THE CONVENIENT BRIDE

Copyright © Teresa
McCarthy, 2005

All rights reserved

First published in
print by Signet, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin
Group (USA) Inc., September 2005

Ebook, May 2012, Teresa McCarthy

Cover Art, LFD Designs For Authors

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored,
copied, or transmitted without the prior written permission of the copyright
owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Chapter
One

S
he was in love. His favorite food was
roasted duck with plum sauce. He enjoyed bayberry soap with his bath. And he
liked raspberry tarts for breakfast. There wasn't much sixteen-year-old Briana
Garland didn't know about Lord Clayton Clearbrook.

Standing
in the shade of a cluster of oak trees blocking the afternoon sun, Briana
glanced through the window of the massive ballroom of Elbourne Hall and let out
an audible sigh. Metal clashed against metal as the fencers slid over the newly
shined dance floor of the Duke of Elbourne's country estate.

He
looked positively magnificent.

Coffee-colored
hair flew about his handsome face, giving him the appearance of a pirate on the
high seas. Long, powerful legs lunged against his enemy with such perfect form
it made her shudder. Lord Clayton was four years her senior and her ideal man.

"Oh,
don't be taken in, Bree. They are not that dashing," sixteen-year-old Lady
Emily pronounced, leaning her elbows on the outside ledge of the open window,
gazing into the ballroom.

Briana
felt a blush climb up her throat. Caught up in the world of dueling swordsmen,
she had almost forgotten about her friend.

The
duke's only daughter rolled her eyes. "They are my brothers, not at all
the type of gentleman one would want to dream about. The ninnies don't even
know we're watching them."

Briana
shifted her gaze back to the swordplay as the weapons hissed through the air.

Clayton
was pitted against his brother Marcus, who was a year older than he. Stephen,
the youngest of Emily's brothers, born a few years before his sister, stood on
the side, jeering his siblings on. Curses flew from one end of the room to the
other and Briana's color deepened.

She was
staying at Elbourne Hall this summer, as she had for the past few years. Her
mother, a longtime friend of the duchess, had made the arrangement in hopes
that Briana would attach herself to one of the Clearbrook brothers.

Not that
Briana should set her eyes on Roderick, who was in line to be duke, her mother
had said, but one of the other boys would be agreeable enough.

Briana
rested her shoulder against the mansion, wondering how on earth she could ever
think to be part of this family. Marriage to any of the brothers was
practically hopeless. Although she was almost out of the schoolroom, just like
her friend Emily, the Clearbrook males still considered them mere children.

"I
did not say they were dashing," Briana said, trying to justify her
attentions.

Emily's
eyes twinkled. "You didn't have to. Many of my friends think my brothers
dashing and all that rubbish. But that is where you are different, Bree. You
will not throw yourself at them like most females."

Still
resting her elbows on the sill, Emily leaned her chin against her palm.
"Depend upon it, they are able to turn grown women into pudding in the
wink of an eye. I daresay it is the most disgusting thing you ever want to
see."

Briana
tried not to blink. Oh, she had seen it. Her gaze strayed to Lord Clayton, and
she literally had to hold back another sigh when she caught a glimpse of those
mesmerizing violet-blue eyes. Even his jaw held a certain stubbornness that
captivated her.

She
smiled inwardly. His tall, lean form encased in buckskin breeches, along with
his commanding air of self-confidence, only added to his appeal. And although
all the Clearbrook males had many special qualities, memories of Lord Clayton's
kindness were never far from her mind.

It was
less than two years ago when she had fallen off her horse and he had rushed to
her side, wiping the tears and dirt from her face. "Miss Garland, if you
are trying to deprive all the young men in this county of your beautiful eyes,
you are doing a deuced good job of it. They are fairy eyes." His violet-blue
gaze danced with mischief and she laughed between her tears.

Since
then, her affection for him had grown, and today she finally realized it was
love.

There
were many times he had caught her reading in the duke's library and never once
had he scoffed at her. In fact, he had done just the opposite. They had
actually carried on intelligent conversations about whatever book she was
studying at the time.

To her,
Lord Clayton Clearbrook was wonderful, a man any girl would want to marry.

"If
you must know, Em, I have never seen anyone fence before. I have read about it,
to be sure. But seeing the real thing is quite exciting."

"They
are using blunted ends, so there is no chance they will die," Emily said
calmly. "I declare it is not at all exciting." She flung her arm
toward the dance floor. "Look at them. They act as if they were
swashbucklers on the high seas."

"They
look like swashbucklers," Briana said quietly.

"Oh,
they box, too. And take lessons at Gentleman Jackson's. Papa says they should
not practice on themselves, but they do anyway. It is all an act for the
ladies. But they have soft hearts, even Roderick, who will be duke one day. And
I do love them and they me."

Eyes
sparkling with mischief, Emily jumped away from the window. "So, you see.
Our plan will work. I can get them to do almost anything I want."

Briana
worried her bottom lip. She had no doubt who would win in the battle of wills.
Since Roderick was away with their father, the other brothers were mere puppets
in Emily's hands.

Baring a
devilish grin, Emily pressed her hand against the jasmine flowers climbing the
wall beside them. "Remember that day I had them take me back to the
village for a special ribbon I had seen in the shopkeeper's window?"

Briana
nodded, her lips curling upward. Emily's grin was infectious. "It was last
year and your father was furious. A storm was ravaging the countryside. We were
soaked to the bone."

Emily
chuckled. "Yes, and we had to stay at Lord Kingsdale's home to dry. Mama
was livid. She never liked him, even though he is friends with Clayton."

"Oh,
I thought Lord Kingsdale quite nice. In fact, he likes Egyptian architecture,
you know. We talked about it for hours." But he was no Clayton, she wanted
to say.

"Yes,
he was quite agreeable that day," Emily said with a shrug, turning her
head back to the ballroom.

Briana
picked a white petal off the flowering vine and glanced at her friend. Emily's
raven black hair and violet-blue eyes, the same shade as Clayton's, were
stunning.

"My
sister is like you, Em. Pretty and quite the thing. In a few years, I imagine
she will sway many a gentleman her way."

Emily
angled her head toward Briana. "You are quite pretty, Bree. No one I know
has eyes as green as yours. I think Clayton calls them fairy eyes."

Had he
mentioned her eyes to Emily? Hope sprang within Briana as she peered back into
the ballroom. Male voices echoed about the room, mingling with the clash of
steel.

"I
don't know about this plan," she said to Emily. Her petal fell to the
ground, and she began to wring her hands on her muslin skirt. What would Lord
Clayton say when he discovered their ploy? "It makes me nervous. Perhaps
we should wait—"

Emily
grabbed Briana's hand in a friendly squeeze. "Wait? Why wait? This is the
perfect time."

"But
Mama will not allow me to learn that dance."

"What
does that matter? My mama won't allow it either. What are we to do during our
first London Season without knowledge of the latest dances?"

"I
don't—"

"Oh,"
Emily interrupted, as the male voices rose in intensity. "Listen, Bree.
They are having a great row now. Fists will soon be flying. It's the best time
to approach them."

Briana
looked on, the blood rushing to her head. Maybe Emily's brothers would never
discover their scheme. Besides, this might be the one time Briana could be close
to Lord Clayton, and who knew what would happen when she went to London and had
her Season. She would know the dance by then, and he might even ask her for a
waltz at Almack's if the patroness gave permission. "I see. When they are
thinking of something else, then we attack?"

"Precisely,"
Emily said, smiling. "When a female has four brawny brothers, she has to
fight with her brain because brute strength certainly won't work. Remember
that, Bree. It will help you in the Season, especially with the male gender."

No
sooner had Briana tucked the idea away when a shout penetrated her thoughts.
She stared in amazement at the fiery exchange taking place. The stakes seemed
to be rising.

"Clay,
watch out! You'd best be careful with your footing! To the left, you peabrain!
Thrust, Marcus! Parry, parry, thrust!"

A growl
erupted from Clayton as Marcus gave another jab of his sword.

"Bad
form, Clay," Stephen spouted, his voice laced with amusement. "I say,
very bad indeed. What the devil were you doing? I told you to go left."

Clayton
did not think his brother's words funny in the least. He stepped to the side,
his sword slicing Stephen's way. "Button your blasted lips or I shall do
it for you!"

Stephen
crossed his arms over his chest and laughed. "Oh ho! I would like to see
you try! I believe Marcus scored that point, not you!"

Marcus's
black hair flew over his temple as he let his sword fall to his side. "Do
you two have to go at it again?"

Stephen
shrugged and made his way across the room, fingering the pianoforte. "If
Clayton says please, I just might stop."

Briana's
brows lifted in mute horror as she watched Clayton march toward his brother.
"I am going to skewer you with the point of this blade, little
brother."

"That's
the problem with you, Clay," Stephen said, laughing. "You don't even
know the point is flat."

"Emily,
they are going to hurt each other," Briana said anxiously.

"No,
no, they won't. Now just play along with me, and we will have them eating out
of our hands."

"But—"

It was
too late to protest. Emily gave an earsplitting whine of distress that made
Briana scream herself.

Clayton's
gaze snapped toward the window, and all three brothers froze. Out of the corner
of her eye, Emily glanced up at Briana. Briana blinked in shock, too paralyzed
to think.

"Follow
my lead," Emily whispered. "We will be learning the waltz in no time.
Here they come."

The
click of heels echoed in Briana's ears like the pounding of a huge drum.
"What?" she gasped.

"They
cannot stand tears," Emily said through stiff lips. "Just do what I
do. But for goodness' sake, don't stare at them with those fairy eyes of yours.
Your face will give everything away."

"Em?"
Clayton said, poking his head out the window. Stephen and Marcus stood
anxiously beside him.

Emily
cried harder into her handkerchief. Briana dropped her gaze to the ground, her
mouth glued shut in terror.

"What
the blazes is wrong?" Clayton asked.

Briana
forgot the plan and raised her head. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth
as she gazed into Clayton's beautiful eyes. They were more blue than violet
now. Their color seemed to change with his emotions. She well remembered when
they had deepened to a dark sapphire the day Emily had placed a buttered scone
on his seat, ruining his new jacket.

No,
these were a soft dusky blue, full of concern and worry. Sweat beaded along his
brow and across the open neck of his shirt. Briana tore her gaze away.

"What
the devil is wrong with you two?" It was Lord Marcus and he sounded quite
perturbed.

Briana
swallowed past the large lump blocking her throat. Fudge! She was in the thick
of it now. Her face burned with embarrassment. She opened her mouth and closed
it feeling like a fool.

"Jupiter
and Zeus," Stephen said from behind. "Do you know you interrupted a
very desperate battle?"

Briana
thought she heard a snicker from beneath Emily's handkerchief. Goodness, the
girl had her brothers twisted around her finger like the vine of the jasmine
flowers beside them.

The
brothers seemed so tall and powerful, it amazed Briana how one wail from a
little female could change their steely demeanor to one of intense concern.
Briana didn't know much about feminine wiles, but she was learning fast

"Em,"
Clayton said, his voice kindness itself, "what's wrong?"

Emily
peeked over her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. Shiny black hair winked in
the sunlight, making Briana all too aware of her own dull auburn locks. Feeling
extraordinarily self-conscious, she stepped back into the shadows.

"Oh,
Clayton, it's terrible," Emily sniffed. "I am to go to London soon
and I have no idea how to waltz. My dancing master, Monsieur Buckette, is
ill."

Three
male groans hit Briana's ears. Although she truly loved Emily, she thought
pulling this act on all three brothers was scarier than meeting the king at
court. She wanted to shrink behind the climbing vines and disappear. She was
good at fading into the crowd. Sometimes no one noticed her at all.