The Pursuit Of Marriage (33 page)

“Higgins.” Reggie chose his words with care. “Why did you think I was to marry Miss Bellingham?”

“That’s what Miss Bellingham said, sir. She was here a few days ago.”

“What?” Reggie stared in disbelief. “Are you certain?”

“Most definitely, sir.”

“Good God! Why on earth would Miss Bellingham say such a thing?”

“I believe, sir, Miss Bellingham’s purpose was to eliminate Miss Effington as a potential bride for you and therefore clear the way for a marriage to you herself.”

Reggie’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“I believe, my lord, she”—Higgins cleared his throat—“wants you.”

“Really? Miss Bellingham? Me?” Reggie grinned, then shook his head. “It’s quite flattering, but it doesn’t matter. As lovely as she is, she isn’t who I want.”

He started toward the drawing room. Higgins skirted around him and threw himself in front of the doors, arms spread wide to prevent Reggie from entering. Reggie couldn’t recall ever seeing the butler move so fast.

“I don’t think you want to go in there, sir.” Higgins shook his head. “Miss Effington’s work may not be exactly what you expect.”

“Don’t be absurd, Higgins.” Reggie laughed. “Her sketches were excellent, and even if she’s deviated from the design somewhat, I can’t imagine it would be anything less—” Realization struck him, and he sucked in a hard breath. “Am I to understand Miss Bellingham told Miss Effington we were to be married?”

Higgins winced. “I’m afraid so.”

“And Miss Effington believed her?” A queasy sensation settled in the pit of Reggie’s stomach.

“Miss Bellingham was quite convincing, my lord.” Higgins paused. “Not that I was intentionally eavesdropping, nor was anyone on the staff who might have passed on the information, mind you, but I did learn a fair amount of what transpired. There is no doubt in my mind Miss Effington believes you are planning to marry Miss Bellingham.”

“Is she very angry, Higgins?” Reggie said slowly.

Higgins chose his words with care. “On the day Miss Bellingham was here, Miss Effington was furious. Indeed, I’m not sure I have ever seen anyone as angry.”

“Bloody hell.”

“The second day she was still angry, but determined as well. Her sister has been here a great deal, and I must warn you I heard words like beast and fiend and revenge and kill him with my bare hands.”

Reggie groaned. “Oh, that sounds promising.”

“However, yesterday and again today she has seemed pensive and, my lord,” Higgins looked from side to side as if to ensure their privacy and lowered his voice, “somewhat quiet as well.”

“Quiet?” Reggie raised a brow. “Miss Effington? My Miss Effington?”

Higgins nodded.

“Damnation, that’s a bad sign.” Reggie thought for a moment. How on earth would he undo the damage Miss Bellingham had wrought? “She is coming back today, though?”

“Any minute now, sir. She said she had a finishing touch for the drawing room. She did not think you would return until tomorrow.”

“Excellent. Then she will indeed be surprised,” he said grimly. “Now then, Higgins, stand aside.”

Higgins paused, then lifted his chin. “No sir.”

“What?”

“I have served your family faithfully for most of my entire life and protected you when it was in my power to do so.” The older man met Reggie’s gaze directly. “I shall not fail you now.”

“I think I can handle this one myself, Higgins,” Reggie said wryly. “But I do appreciate the offer. It can’t possibly be that bad.”

Higgins snorted, then reluctantly stepped aside.

Reggie drew a deep breath, threw open the doors, and stepped into an entirely foreign world. He stared in shocked disbelief. “What in the name of all that’s holy has she done?”

The walls had vanished, hidden by yards and yards of silk in alternating colors of reds and golds and pinks and yellows, stretching from the ceiling to the floor. The ceiling itself was completely covered in the same silken stripes, gathered in the center of the room. The overall effect was one of a large, exotic tent. Where an ornate crystal chandelier had once hung, a huge pierced brass lantern that screamed of sultry nights in places like Morocco or Algiers loomed. A multitude of Persian rugs overlapped one another and littered the floor. Tall brass candlesticks the width of a man’s forearm were placed among small carved wooden tables with mosaic tops. Large brass platters a yard across leaned against walls. Brass pots and antiquated oil lamps were scattered here and there. Several potted palms reached to the ceiling and filled one corner. In the other…

He reached out a shaky finger and pointed. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yes, sir.” There was a touch of awe in Higgins’s voice.

“It’s a camel.” Reggie stared at the very large, thankfully stuffed, and altogether overwhelming beast decked out in full desert regalia. “Where on earth did she find this?”

“I have no idea,” Higgins murmured, “but one must admire her tenacity.”

“Yes, one must certainly do that.” Reggie could not pull his gaze from the room. Overlarge pillows were piled in the center of the floor. A foreign scent, some sort of incense, he suspected, hung in the air and added to the overall impression of a place exotic and opulent and, whether Cassie intended it or not, somewhat erotic. “It looks like a cross between the British Museum and a Moroccan brothel.”

“Harem, my lord.”

“What?”

“I believe the intent was one of a harem for the”—Higgins bit his lip—“infamous Lord Berkley.”

“It’s really quite…remarkable.” Reggie blew a long breath. “It simply doesn’t belong in my house or possibly in my country.”

“She was extremely angry, my lord.”

“I can certainly see that.” Reggie’s gaze slid around the room from the palms to the camel to the pillows.

“This took a great deal of effort.”

“Indeed it did, my lord.”

“I find that most interesting,” Reggie said thoughtfully. “One would think that in her anger, she would abandon this project altogether.”

“Pardon me, sir, but I suspect Miss Effington is not one to run from difficulties.”

“No, she does like a challenge.” There was an answer here, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Higgins, from what you’ve observed, it sounds like she continued to do all this even though her anger has abated.”

“I wouldn’t wager on that.”

“I would.” At once he understood what he should have seen from the beginning. “And indeed I am.”

Reggie laughed with a sense of utter relief.

Higgins stared at him as if the state of the room had pushed him over the edge to insanity.

“Don’t you see?” Reggie waved at his surroundings. “Only a woman in love would go to this much trouble.”

“I should not wish to see what a woman who hated you would do,” Higgins muttered.

“She loves me, Higgins, but then I knew she did.” Reggie grinned. “This is simply her way of showing it.”

“I scarcely think—”

“In truth, her actions fit right in with my plan.”

Higgins sucked in an involuntary breath. “There’s a plan, my lord?”

“Indeed there is. And this will make it all the better.” He leaned toward the butler confidentially. “I’m going to surprise her with a wedding, surrounded by her family and friends.”

“Oh, that will be a surprise, sir,” Higgins murmured. “Will the ceremony be in here, then?”

“Why not?” Reggie laughed. “It will certainly be memorable.”

“My lord,” Higgins said carefully. “Have you considered the possibility that she might not want to marry you?”

Reggie thought for a moment, then grinned. “No.”

“Perhaps you should.”

“I can’t, Higgins.” He shrugged in a helpless manner. “You see, Miss Effington has claimed my very soul. I cannot even consider the possibility that she does not return my affection.”

“I see.”

“I know that tone, Higgins, but this is not the same as the others. This is different. This is,” he chuckled,

“forever.”

“Well, you have never spoken of marriage before.”

“You see. Now, go tell the staff to prepare for my wedding and our guests.”

“At once, my lord.” Higgins started for the door, muttering under his breath. “Perhaps Cook can roast a goat.”

Reggie strode to the pile of pillows and settled down to wait for Cassandra. As confident as he had sounded to Higgins, he couldn’t ignore a tiny doubt that perhaps he was wrong about Cassandra’s feelings. Still, he refused to consider it. Cassandra Effington was the last love of his life. And he absolutely refused to lose her without a fight. Even if it was with her.

Cassie strode into the front entry of Berkley House and started toward the drawing room.

“Can I help you with that, miss?” One of Reggie’s footmen stepped forward.

“No, thank you,” Cassie said over her shoulder. “I can manage it.” The scimitar was exceedingly heavy, but it was the final touch for Reggie’s drawing room. Once it was in place, she was finished. With the room and the viscount.

The realization brought a stab of pain, but she ignored it. Just as she had ignored nearly every anguished moment in the last few days. And just as she had ignored as well the reoccurring thought that she might just possibly have made a dreadful mistake.

Still, why would Miss Bellingham and, more to the point, Lady Bellingham lie about something as important as marriage?

She stepped into the drawing room and smiled with satisfaction. It was perfect, evoking the feel of an enormous tent billowing in the desert wind. Delia had helped, of course, having read far more stories than Cassie set among the sands of Arabia. It was probably not at all accurate, but it was very much Cassie’s vision of a proper setting for the harem of a desert chieftain. At any rate, in this case accuracy wasn’t nearly as important as effect. Pity she would never know of Reggie’s reaction.

“I see you deviated from your sketches somewhat,” a familiar voice sounded from the pile of pillows. Her heart leapt. She ignored it and narrowed her gaze. “I didn’t see you.”

“I could certainly see how you’d miss me amidst all this.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” Reggie got to his feet in a leisurely manner. “Or at least, I think I do. It certainly does not look like anything I recall seeing before.”

She squared her shoulders. “I simply created a room more in keeping with its owner.”

He raised a brow. “A harem?”

“Exactly.”

He glanced at the scimitar. “Are you planning on running me through with that sword?”

“Not at the moment, but I certainly would not rule out the possibility.” She hefted the weapon in her hand. “And it’s a scimitar, not a sword.” She crossed to the other side of the room and placed the scimitar in an artistic display among brass pots and candlesticks.

“This must have cost a great deal.”

“Oh, it did. A minor fortune, actually.” Defiance rang in her voice. “Although I should have liked to have spent a great deal more.”

“Where did you get the camel?”

She smirked. “You made a substantial donation to a small museum. They’re quite grateful. They might even name a room after you.”

“They can have this one. Do you like what you’ve done?” He gestured at the room. “In here, I mean.”

“It suits you,” she snapped.

“No it doesn’t.” He strode to the doors and slammed them shut. She jumped and took a step backwards. “What are you doing?”

He ignored the question and started toward her. “The room doesn’t suit me at all.” His steely gaze pinned hers. “You, however, do.”

“Then why are you going to marry Miss Bellingham?” She noted with annoyance the pain that underlay her question, and she moved to keep the brightly colored pile of pillows between them. Scant protection, of course, but it was better than nothing.

“I have no intention of marrying Miss Bellingham.” He moved around the pillows toward her. She stepped in the opposite direction. “She seems to think you are, as does her mother.”

“I gave her absolutely no reason to think that.” He shrugged and continued to circle the pillows. “Why did you believe her?”

Cassie kept her distance but couldn’t keep a note of doubt from creeping into her voice. “For one thing, she knew all sorts of private things that I thought were just between the two of us. She knew about our wager.”

He shook his head. “I was not the one who told her about that. I believe it might have been your sister.”

“Hah!” Cassie’s brow furrowed. Could Delia have possibly told Miss Bellingham about the wager? Of course not, unless her sister had been helping Reggie all along. Ridiculous. Although hadn’t Delia said he had fooled her as well? “It’s possible, I suppose, but you told her you were pleased that I wouldn’t marry a man just to avoid scandal.”

“I didn’t tell her that either. But as your brother knew, and spent a great deal of time with her, I would wager he told her.”

That too was entirely conceivable. Leo had never been especially good about keeping his mouth closed. Particularly when a beautiful woman was involved.