The Next Best Bride (7 page)

"Your lover, you mean?" he whispered against her jaw. "The one who wouldn't marry you?"

"That's not fair — I did not want to marry you. You made me."

"You could have told your sister and the duke the truth. Wouldn't they have tracked down your I faithless cad for you — and tossed me out on my ear for lying?" His words were spoken in a soothing tone, but had the opposite effect on Helena. "Why didn't you?"

"I should have. I meant to." But she had not wanted them to know —

"I understand. Shameful secrets. I know all about them. You were right, you know. The fewer who know, the better for you in the end."

Not sure she spoke truthfully, Helena muttered, "I wish I had told the truth, rather than allowing you to force me into this farce of a marriage."

''You will thank me for it later." His teeth nipped at her ear playfully, as if she were merely scolding him for stealing a biscuit instead of a wife. "You are too afraid to see you have made a good bargain."

"A good bargain?" she scoffed. "A husband who treats me like a trollop in public." She shoved him away, but he simply pressed closer. "Stop. People will talk." She tried to squirm away from him but there was little room on the seat for her to escape.

He pulled back, a momentary reprieve so that she could see the deep green of his eyes and be struck anew at the crystalline clarity that belied the disreputable life he led. "People will talk because they envy me."

"Only a man could say such a thing. Women know better. We will be laughingstocks. I will not be able to show myself in public for the shame."

His lips turned up and a half-moon dimple appeared in his left cheek. "But that is the simple beauty of being married to me, Helena. You can reap the fruits of disreputable behavior and everyone will blame me." He kissed her again, deeply.

"I would rather behave correctly," she answered, when his lips had roamed purposefully away from her mouth and he nipped the lobe of her ear again, sending a warm bolt of lightning through her.

"What fun is that?" he teased.

"I don't think marriage is supposed to be fun, my lord. Even a bargain marriage such as ours. I would prefer that no one label me scandalous."

He pulled back to gaze at her again and after a moment touched her bottom lip with his index finger, tracing it restlessly from corner to corner, his touch as light as a feather. "Would you?"

Her throat was dry, so she swallowed before she answered, with a rather weak "That is why I married you, is it not?"

"Then you would not like to be kissed again?"

"No."

He laughed softly. "Liar. You like my kisses as much as I like bestowing them."

He spoke as if he believed his kisses were tiny gifts to her. The arrogant — She would have replied, but at that moment the carriage jolted to a halt at their destination. She contented herself with a sniff and, presented him her back once he had handed her down.

He swept her pique aside, however, with a warm, familiar hand at her back as they hurried up the broad stairs with the servants wishing them well at each step. Was there no shame in the man at all?

She stood next to him without touching as they welcomed the guests and received their well wishes for a happy, fruitful marriage. Very shortly, however, she found she was pressing herself against him as if to protect herself from the hearty wishes that she should soon find herself a busy mother.

The congratulations sent his way were not only hearty, but pointed as well. For a moment she wondered if she had still been innocent, whether she would have understood half of what was said. Would that have been preferable to this constant feeling of fiery embarrassment that everyone knew what would happen between them once they were alone?

To her horror, in the midst of the litany of well wishes and handshakes, an all-too-familiar hand grasped hers. An all-too-familiar voice said, "Many congratulations upon your most unexpected marriage, my lady." William. He bent low to press a kiss to her hand.

She said faintly, "I thought you in France, Baron." She wished the words back immediately, when he straightened without releasing her hand.

"I could not miss seeing you again." He smiled, the brown eyes she had thought so warm only a few months ago now looked predatory to her.

"Although I had expected you would not be the bride. Yet."

Helena did not know how to answer. His implication that he had wished to marry her was patently false. Yet she could not call him on it without embarrassing herself, her family — and Rand.

Although the earl might relish the scandal.

Her heart dropped to her knees when Rand's arm came around her shoulders and his warm, deep voice said congenially, "Much can happen when one is away, Baron. I hope your trip was pleasant."

William's warm smile turned brittle as he released Helena's hand. "Disappointing, my lord. But I am certain you will not find your bride the same."

Helena felt Rand tense. Had he understood the insult? Please let him not realize that William was the one. She could not bear it.

Rand pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head and gave her a squeeze before releasing her. "After all I went through to get her, Baron, I cannot imagine that I could find her anything but a treasure."

Though Rand had again twisted the truth until it became a most pleasant lie, Helena allowed herself to smile up at him as adoringly as if he had married her for love. "My lord, not many men would have the courage to admit such sentiment aloud." To her great pleasure, William looked discomfited as he moved away from them.

Rand bent, his voice low and warm in her ear, "I'll kill him for you, if you like."

Helena's heart jolted in her chest. For a moment she could not breathe. He suspected. But she would not confirm it. She forced herself to behave as if William were nothing more than an inconsiderate acquaintance. Pretending she did not understand the reason behind his offer, Helena replied in an equally low voice, "Whyever for? He cannot help his lack of manners, poor man."

Rand had been certain the man was her lover.

His offer to kill the baron had not been entirely in jest. He had hoped Helena's reaction would have confirmed his suspicions more clearly, however. To his surprise, he found his bride was more than capable of enigmatic answers when he least wanted one.

His grandfather, the marquess, had been seated near them at dinner. Rand supposed a family as close and loving as Helena's would have no reason to know that some families were better off seated far apart.

The wine had scarcely been poured when the old man turned to Helena and launched the first sally of his campaign. "Welcome to the family, m'dear. I hope you are not fainthearted, for I fear it will take a miracle worker to tame my grandson."

"I am not fainthearted in the least," Helena replied with a shy smile guaranteed to please the old man.

He showed his pleasure with a wide smile that had lost none of its power as he aged. "Good. Good. I should have been more stern with him, you understand. I know that. But as he is the last of the line, a remembrance of my own dear son and his late wife—"

Rand picked up his wineglass and downed the contents when Helena was touched to the point that she gave a sympathetic pat to his grandfather's trembling hand. "I do understand. We will do our best to make you proud."

"I've always done the best to win the games I played, Grandfather." Rand shifted beside her, wishing to remove her from the old man's grip, but unsure how, since she seemed to have become a supporter. "Didn't you teach me that one must risk much to gain much?"

The old man scowled. "I was not speaking of gambling, as you well know." Rand noticed the wrinkles around his eyes and on his forehead were more deeply grooved than last time they had sparred over his idle habits.

Helena kicked him under the table. A wifely kick that would leave no mark. The gesture was unexpected, reminding him that she was not the only one of them who would have to adjust to this new state of marriage. He had a wife. A wife who was displeased with his behavior. He supposed he should not be surprised. He could not expect someone with such a sense of proper behavior to behave as badly to his grandfather as he did. Her quick glance of reproof told him as much.

The marquess sighed gustily as Helena reassured him she would tame his grandson. Rand wondered if she believed her own words, as his grandfather said approvingly, "Been a long time since we had a woman amongst us. Will be a welcome addition to my bachelor abode."

Rand signaled to the footman for a refill of his wineglass, smiling as he always did when the old man spoke of him, just as if he did not care what was said. He hoped his bride wasn't fool enough to think he intended to be tamed.

"Thank you, my lord. I am looking forward to learning about my new home." Helena glanced at him curiously, her brow lifting when she saw the footman approach and refill his glass. He grinned and winked at her as if he were not uncomfortable to be seen over imbibing in his grandfather's presence.

"Parsleigh?" Rand interjected as casually as he could manage. "I thought a tour, first." He overrode his grandfather's impending interruption. "My bride has never traveled. I know Rome would please her. Perhaps Venice as well."

The old man frowned, the sharp green eyes that were his legacy to Rand searching for the truth behind Rand's wish to travel. "Nonsense. You'll have time for that after you've filled the nursery. Then you can run off and leave the nanny to care for the children, just as your parents did. With an heir and a spare, won't matter if you two get swept off your skis, as they did."

Rand set his wineglass down carefully, afraid he might snap the stem. His father had indeed died in an accident. But his mother had not. He wondered whether he should test the old man's patience by revealing one of the family secrets here. His mother's madness.

Before he could say a word, however, Helena interposed, ''I'm not the adventuring type, my lord. I will welcome settling into my new home without delay."

Rand examined her expression closely, wondering if she sided with his grandfather simply because she was still angry with him for forcing the marriage despite her objections.

Her blue eyes were guileless. Which meant nothing, he knew. Rand nodded, knowing that both his grandfather and Helena watched him closely.

There was no point in letting either of them see that he was bothered by the disruption in his careful plans. "As you wish, Helena."

Ros might have cozened the old man around, but Helena was no doubt innocent to the undercurrent of control the old man embodied. No doubt she would be willingly fetching and carrying and coddling him. No doubt he would show her only the most charming side of him, too. Unless she forced the conqueror side of him to surface. But she would not, he consoled himself, with another glass of wine. Ros might have. Helena would not.

For a moment he contemplated unhappily what the change in bride and travel meant. His plans with Ros had called for an extended trip abroad and resettlement in London. Now it seemed he could stay in London, but that would leave Helena alone with his grandfather. He had just vowed to protect this woman. How could he leave her to the old man's wiles? But how could he convince her Parsleigh was not as congenial a place to live as it might seem?

His grandfather continued to charm his bride through the sweet course. Rand welcomed the signal for the ladies to retire and leave the gentlemen to their cigars and port. He wanted Helena away from the old man. How the devil was he to manage it?

Chapter Six

After the gentlemen had rejoined the ladies, and a toast been made to the new couple, wishing them a safe journey to Parsleigh, Rand saw his opportunity. He spied the duke and duchess approaching and turned to his grandfather with an excuse that might serve to free them. "My bride might be more comfortable here, with her family. At least for a time."

The marquess, as usual, brushed aside his suggestion as if he were an errant child. "Nonsense. We are her family now; she should be with us."

Rand smiled as if he did not care one way or the other. But he waited until the duchess was within hearing to reply. "If she remained with her sister, she would be in London still. I would be able to see her more often."

"Stay with us?" The duchess appeared distracted for a moment, and Rand feared she had something else on her mind and would not agree. However, as he watched, her gaze cleared of distraction and focused on what he had just suggested. "Of course." The duchess quickly supported him, although he noticed the duke was quietly observing the interactions of all parties and did not nod at his wife's invitation. "Helena is certainly welcome to make her home here for now. As are you, Rand."

The last thing he wanted was to be in a household with so many servants to observe his actions, never mind the duke and duchess who had already proven themselves quite observant. "I think a man with my habits is better off in a bachelor abode."

His grandfather frowned in disapproval. "You mean to keep your rooms?"

He met his grandfather's gaze steadily. "I do." The duchess appeared as unhappy as his grandfather, as she cast a glance at Helena, who was stiff beside him, showing no emotion whatsoever. The duchess also, he noticed curiously, sent a glance to her husband, which caused the duke to melt away from the group in some haste. Rand dismissed his curiosity and turned his attention back to his own battle.

Genially — did the old man ever issue his commands less than genially? — his grandfather said, "Well, then, I want your bride with me. She won't grow so lonely for her husband when he is off." He frowned. "That way, I can keep an eye on him, help you bring him to heel," he said to Helena in reassurance.

Ah yes, Rand remembered. The old man eschewed geniality only when he had to pay his grandson's debts, or see to his obligations.

Rand weighed the risk of objecting openly to the idea of immuring Helena at Parsleigh. He did not want the old man to know how much he wished to keep his bride away from his grandfather. He did not want the old man to smell a weakness upon him. "Perhaps the dower house could be made ready for us, then?"