Read The School for Brides Online
Authors: Cheryl Ann Smith
The School for Brides (37 page)
She patted his arm. “You will. I have faith.”
W
ith Harold’s help, Nicholas dressed. Three days abed without Eva had left him ill-tempered and short with everyone. Even his mother’s happy chatter set his teeth on edge. The duchess had decided that Eva had descended from Heaven, complete with angel wings, and no amount of arguing could convince her that her son’s stubborn mistress wasn’t about to become his wife.
ith Harold’s help, Nicholas dressed. Three days abed without Eva had left him ill-tempered and short with everyone. Even his mother’s happy chatter set his teeth on edge. The duchess had decided that Eva had descended from Heaven, complete with angel wings, and no amount of arguing could convince her that her son’s stubborn mistress wasn’t about to become his wife.
“These damnable bandages,” Nicholas grumbled, shoving a finger beneath them for a scratch. Harold tugged Nicholas’s shirt over his shoulders. “Next time I’m shot, let me bleed to death.”
“There were times I wanted to shoot you myself, Your Grace,” Harold said as Nicholas tucked his shirt into his breeches. The baron helped him into his black coat. “I shall have to live with the satisfaction of watching a footman take a chunk out of your hide instead.”
After seeing the patched garments Eva and the courtesans wore, Nicholas was grateful his mother had brought his own clothes when Harold had sent for her. He scowled and flexed his shoulders. His forced inactivity had left him stiff all over.
“I am well enough to land a few decent blows if you’d like to take this matter outside,” Nicholas said.
Harold’s malevolent smile was the first he’d seen from the stoic man. The former servant turned baron, and now servant again, reached up and roughly knotted Nicholas’s cravat. “Though the offer is pleasing, Your Grace, I think Eva has done more damage to you than I could do with my fists.”
Eva. Nicholas hadn’t seen her in days, though Mother assured him she’d visited while he slept. She was avoiding further confrontations and any talk of marriage. She never once denied caring for him when she refused his proposal. It was all about her fears. Those he had to assuage.
When Harold finished, Nicholas critically examined himself in the mirror. “You make a good manservant, My Lord.”
“It is interesting how you can learn to dress yourself when you lack a manservant.” Harold leaned back on his heels. “I had many jobs during my travels and saw many things. Dressing you, I can do blindfolded.”
“Is physician included in those professions?” The wound was healing nicely, and Nicholas had suffered through only a brief fever. There would be a scar, but Noelle assured him it would only add to his rakish reputation.
“I was in the army and spent time working in the infirmary.” Harold smirked. “And when you are built like a pugilist, you are often challenged to prove your worth. I became an expert at patching myself up after fights. Carving the bullet out of your side wasn’t difficult. It was not much more than a flesh wound.”
“Still, I do owe you my thanks. I could have bled to death.” Nicholas reached out his hand. The baron looked down, then closed his large hand over Nicholas’s. They locked gazes. “Now if you can convince your stubborn mistress to marry me, you’ll have my lifelong gratitude.”
“I fear you’ll have to put your courtship off a bit longer, Your Grace,” Harold said, releasing his hand. “Eva packed up her sisters and her courtesans this morning and left for London.”
Nicholas grumbled under his breath. “For a woman of steely strength, she is a coward when it comes to fighting for her happiness.” He shook his head. “If you have any ideas on how to bring her around, please tell me. I have nothing.”
Harold nodded slowly, and his expression softened. It took years off his features. Nicholas realized then that they were probably close to the same age. He squelched a grin. Watching over Eva had been trying indeed, and the poor man was aging at an alarming rate.
“I have it on good authority that outrageous romantic gestures are the way into the heart of a woman,” Harold said, puffing out his cheeks. “I think I have just the thing to save you both from a lifetime of misery, Your Grace.”
Chapter Twenty-One
T
he day of the party at which the former courtesans would meet the men they’d selected began on a grim note when the weather conspired to ruin Eva’s plans to hold the gathering outside. However, by noon the sun had forced its way from behind the clouds and made a valiant effort to comply with her wishes. The fragrance of spring blooms sweetened the air.
he day of the party at which the former courtesans would meet the men they’d selected began on a grim note when the weather conspired to ruin Eva’s plans to hold the gathering outside. However, by noon the sun had forced its way from behind the clouds and made a valiant effort to comply with her wishes. The fragrance of spring blooms sweetened the air.
The servants dried the chairs and benches and set up tables. Cook pressed the two maids into service as her helpers while the courtesans readied themselves with the help of Eva, Noelle, and Margaret.
“My stomach is fluttering,” Rose said as Noelle drew the ice blue day dress carefully over her head. Her red hair was pulled back and up with a few curls left to frame her face.
“I think I might be ill,” said Pauline, who did look pale.
Rose giggled. “Don’t get sick on your dress, dearest. You look too lovely to spoil the effect.”
Pauline stuck out her tongue. She was clad in pink satin and her blonde locks were braided and coiled atop her head. Sophie chose to wear lavender. The color and her happiness helped to take the hard edge off her face. Of all the women, she was the most desperate to find security.
Eva resisted the urge to remove her wig and spectacles. Though the courtesans knew the truth about her disguise and her desire to keep her two worlds separate, the suitors did not. She preferred to keep it that way.
She turned to Yvette, clad in red, and watched her hold earbobs up to her earlobes. Though Eva worried about her, she appeared to be outwardly well. As their eyes met in the mirror’s reflection, Yvette smiled softly. Eva went to the jewelry case and removed a pair of beaded black earbobs.
“Try these,” she said. Yvette put them on and nodded, satisfied with her reflection. She turned and took Eva by the hands, squeezing her fingers.
“Please don’t worry about me, Miss Eva.” She pulled Eva into a tight hug, and Eva felt her tremble. “This is a day of happiness,” Yvette whispered. “I will have it no other way.”
Eva held her for a moment longer and blinked back tears. If she had to drag every unattached man from Northumberland to Dover into this town house, and parade them before Yvette until she found her perfect match, she would do so gladly. She desperately wanted to see Yvette happy.
“Then I think we should ready ourselves,” Eva said, and pulled back with a smile. She encompassed the entire clutch of former courtesans with her sweeping gaze. “We have just over a dozen men arriving shortly. We should not make them wait.” She stretched out her hands, and they all came together. “I have confidence you will each charm someone today. And if you do not find a match, I will keep trying until you do.” Tears welled. “I am so proud of all of you. You are courtesans no more.”
They hugged, sniffled, laughed, and then headed downstairs just as two packed coaches finished unloading their passengers at the garden gate. When the men were assembled, Eva led the ladies outside and introductions began. When she finished, she stepped back and positioned herself discreetly off to the side with Noelle and Margaret, watching the women. It wasn’t long before the young women were mingling with their potential suitors.
Middle-aged and young, charming and shy, the men were a collection from all aspects of life. Since Margaret had taken herself out of the group, the men greatly outnumbered the women. But Eva had promised them wives, and there was always the next batch of courtesans to choose from.
“They all look pleased,” Noelle whispered as several men circled bubbly Rose and she laughed heartily at some jest. Pauline and Sophie each had two suitors, and Yvette was speaking with a rather stuffy-looking man with a sizable mustache. A few suitors held back, waiting for an opening. Mr. Reed, a handsome solicitor of thirty, peered over his spectacles at Yvette from a distance.
“I think Yvette has caught someone’s eye,” Eva said to Noelle, indicating the man with a slight tip of her head. “I might need to push them together.” The three sisters shared a smile.
The day went smoothly except for a small skirmish between Mister Rhoades, a shopkeeper, and Mister Tipton, a painter, over who would bring cake to Rose. Eva got between them and explained that if they didn’t behave, they would have to leave and would be taken out of her book. They quickly settled. Everyone knew that once Miss Eva took you out of her book, you were never invited back. Harold had vanished right after bringing the men, and Eva hadn’t seen him all afternoon. She knew how difficult it was for him to spend time in Margaret’s company, and her in his. It was nearing the end of the party when he finally made an appearance. And what an appearance it was.
Eva, Noelle, and Margaret gawked as he walked into the garden, carrying a huge vase filled with a colorful explosion of mixed flowers. The immense arrangement all but blocked much of his upper torso and head. But when he lowered the vase to the ground beside the stunned Margaret, and dropped to one knee, Eva was able to fully appreciate the lengths to which he’d gone to impress her sister.
The cut and quality of his clothing rivaled that of His Grace, from his buff breeches to his snow-white shirt and cream cravat to the deep scarlet of his coat. His hair was neatly trimmed and his face clean-shaven. Eva almost didn’t recognize him.
“Harold?” she said, but the sharp intake of breath from Margaret stilled further comment. Eva and Noelle watched a glint of amusement dance in Margaret’s eyes.
He reached for Margaret’s hand. She slowly released her fingers, and he encompassed them in his large hands.
“Lady Margaret Abigail Louise Seymour, I know I have made mistakes in my life and have hurt some of the people for whom I have cared the most. None more than you.” He swallowed. “When I first saw you in the kitchen, while you were going over the menu with Mrs. Dunn, I was smitten. And my affection has grown every day since.” A single tear broke loose and flowed down Margaret’s face. “You would do me a great honor if you would consent to be my wife.”
Eva stood open-mouthed as she watched the proposal unfolding. Never once in the time she had known Harold had he ever strung so many words together, and certainly not with such eloquence. It had to be desperation that had changed his normally gruff exterior to that of a man unafraid to show his love. It was easy to see that love in his eyes when he gazed upon Margaret.
Noelle was similarly affected by his proposal. She and Eva gaped like a pair of fish, then simultaneously clapped their jaws shut with matching smiles. The former courtesans and suitors all stood silent as Margaret stared at Harold as if he had grown a second nose. Clearly she hadn’t expected such loving sentiment or such a grand and public proposal. Her face flushed pink.
“I—I . . .” She looked helplessly at her sisters. Eva and Noelle nodded. Margaret grinned and bent to put her free hand on his shoulder. “I will marry you, Harold.”
He quickly stood and pulled her into his arms. He spun her around, then dropped her back to her feet before giving her a brief and very loving kiss. Margaret turned a deep red as the party guests clapped and the three sisters hugged and shared whispered words of congratulations. When Harold finally tucked Margaret protectively against his side, Eva walked over to put a hand on his arm, her eyes swimming. He bent to her, and she lifted to her toes.
“I am so happy to welcome you into my family, Harold. I’ve always considered you my friend, and now you will be my brother.”
Harold pressed a kiss on her cheek and grimaced. “Someone has to watch over you three. Without supervision, you’ll get into all kinds of mischief.”
Eva laughed heartily. The day was lovely indeed.
While Harold and Margaret moved among the guests, Eva and Noelle watched their laughing sister and her beaming groom-to-be. Though Eva wouldn’t have ever put the pair together, love was sometimes unexplainable. She knew this well. And sometimes it could not be returned. This was the affliction she suffered through every hour of every day. She knew rejecting His Grace was best for all, but it didn’t keep her heart from aching.
“Well, one courtesan has been matched,” Noelle said, smiling, and pulled Eva from her musing. She pointed to the solicitor, who was in deep conversation with Yvette. She was blossoming under the attention, and the wariness in her face had eased. “I think another is in the making.”
Eva wrinkled her nose. “Margaret was never a courtesan. You made up her history as a ruse. So I’m not sure that counts as a match.”
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