The Wagered Bride (11 page)

Milli
shrugged, looking at the floor. "I did not think she was very allergic,
you know. Besides"—Milli raised her head, lowering her voice—"she is
such an odious creature anyway."

Her eyes
smiled appreciatively. "Odious Odette. That does have a certain ring to
it, does it not? Who would think cherries would do such a thing to the human
body?"

Milli
turned to leave, but not before Stephen grabbed her shoulder and spun her
around. "You minx. You gave Lady Odette cherries and she reacted quite
violently, is that it?"

"I,
uh, added a little juice to her hot chocolate."

"But
she ate breakfast with us this morning."

"The
chocolate was sent up later to her room. She reacted to the cherries most
horridly, but how was I supposed to know that?"

A glint
of amusement flashed in Milli's gray eyes, and Stephen stared back at her,
speechless.

"You
see, my lord, Odette's skin has taken on a rather mottled look. Her throat is
swollen and her eyes as well. But Lizzie will care for her, as always."

"Lizzie?"

"Yes,
but you must not tell a soul about the cherry juice. My father will lock me in
my room for a month."

And
rightly so, Stephen thought grimly. "What is your sister doing in there?
Can they not send for a doctor?"

"A
doctor? Lizzie is far better than any of those bloodletters. She will care for
Lady Odette, but I can tell you it is beyond my comprehension why."

Though
Stephen's feelings for Odette had been lost completely the moment he had seen
her true character, Stephen could not condone what Milli had done.

"A
stunt like that could have killed her," he said sharply. "Why did you
do such a terrible thing?"

Milli
tilted her head back to look him straight in the eye. "I know I was wrong,
but she made Elizabeth cry, and if you dare make Elizabeth cry, I will do
something more horrid to you. Like ... like poisonous mushrooms!"

"You
will, will you?”

"Yes,
I most certainly will."

He
blinked. Well, at least Elizabeth had one person to defend her.

"Milli,
is that you outside that door? For heaven's sake, stop dawdling and fetch me
some of that lotion from the housekeeper."

The door
eased opened and Stephen came face to face with Elizabeth. Her hair was flying
every which way as she held her spectacles to her breast. "My lord!"

His
respect grew for this woman every minute he was with her. "I was wondering
if I might be of some help," he said. "The lady sounds as if she is
dying."

Milli
let out a snort behind him.

"She
is not dying, my lord. It seems you have been taken in by my sister's theatrics
again." Ignoring him, she urged her sister down the hall. "The lotion
and be quick."

The door
started to close and another squeal hit both their ears. "Elizabeth!
Hurry! There is another bump bursting out on my elbow as we speak."

"I
am coming, Odette. Do not scream. It will only make things worse."

Stephen
stood immobilized as the door shut in his face. What kind of woman was this?
She was taking care of the one person who had hurt her, and now she acted as if
it had never happened. And ... she had literally shut the blasted door in his
face.

Though
his admiration and respect for her had heightened, he knew that it would never
do to marry the girl. Their union would be a complete and utter failure.

Marriages
of convenience usually were failures unless there were some hard and fast rules
in the union. A mistress. A turned eye. A series of parties and balls which
neither attended with the other. Oh, he knew some couples who lived like that
and thought it grand. But deep down, he knew they were only fooling themselves,
like his own father and mother had done.

Stephen
wanted love in a marriage. Not duty and half-truths. It seemed he had been far
off the mark with Lady Odette, but if Elizabeth thought herself in love with
Mr.Fennington, there could be no hope for their future at all.

Later
that evening Elizabeth was too exhausted to eat. She went to her room, changed,
and hopped straight into bed. Pulling the covers over herself, she wondered if
Lord Stephen had left for London. He had looked so ridiculously handsome standing
outside Lady Odette's door she thought she would swoon. But he was not there
for her. He was there over concern for Odette.

Something
deep in her heart began to ache. Would anybody ever care for her and come to
her door when she was ill? She wondered if Mr. Fennington would take her limp
hand in his, not leaving her side until she regained her strength.

Warm
brown eyes dotted with gold suddenly popped into her head. Her throat tightened
with dread. Lord Stephen only pitied her. "Well good riddance. I hate
him."

"You
do?"

Elizabeth
jerked upward. "Millicent Harriet, what are you doing hiding behind those
curtains? I have not set eyes on you since you delivered that lotion for Lady
Odette."

Milli
inched forward. "Did she ... did she die?"

Elizabeth
narrowed her eyes on her sister's shaking hands. "Of course she did not
die."

"Truly,
or are you just humoring me?"

"Milli,
what did you do?"

"Oh!"
Milli fell onto the bed, her hands to her face. "Death is but a flight
into another world where time stops and then begins again. Death be gone and
never come again to this precious world—"

"Milli!"
Elizabeth was too tired to attend to her sister's theatrics.

Milli
raised her head. "You are humoring me, dearest. She did die. I knew it! I
killed her! Will they hang me? Will she have flowers on her grave? Will Father
be mad?"

Elizabeth
slipped out of bed and lit a lone candle from the embers in the fire. Pulling
her sister off her bed, she took Milli by the shoulders and gently shook her.

"Tell
me, Millicent."

"He
made me do it."

"He?
He made you do what?"

"Put
the cherries in her drink."

"You
put the cherries in Lady Odette's hot chocolate?"

Milli
kept her face to the floor. "H-he made me."

Trying
to keep her anger at bay, Elizabeth combed Milli's hair with her hand. What
type of blackguard would have a girl do his dirty work? Odette might have asked
for much while staying at Harmstead Hall, but she did not deserve this.
"Who, dear?"

"Lord
Stephen Clearbrook."

Elizabeth's
hand dropped to her side like a lead ball. "His lordship?"

Milli
nodded again.

Elizabeth
saw red. The wretch! Just because the odious lady snuffed Lord Stephen's
advances, he decided to take his revenge in the meanest, most despicable way.
How dare he stand by that door and ask her if she needed any help! This only
solidified her plans to reunite with Mr. Fennington.

"You
must never listen to that man again. Promise me."

Milli
raised her eyes in confusion and frowned. "But—"

"No."
Elizabeth did not wait for an answer. All she saw was how perfect Lord Stephen
appeared with his simple cravat and perfectly fitting breeches and wide strong
shoulders.

How
perfection could be so deceiving!

For a
man to save Wellington's life one day and do such a dastardly deed the next was
inconceivable. Did he think by hurting Odette he would move up in her
estimation?

Oh, she
didn't know what to believe. But she would not be fooled. No, she would make
her plans accordingly.

And to
think that she was going to apologize for spraying him with the ink. She had
never attacked a person before in her life, but that man brought out the worst
in her. She must not let this marriage take place.

Chapter Seven

S
tephen was back in London sitting at
White's, caressing a glass of untouched brandy as he explained his situation to
his brothers.

"You
what?" the Duke of Elbourne shouted.

Stephen
set his glass down and pressed his fingers to his eyes. "Thunderation,
keep it down. These are not intricate military plans I am explaining to you,
Roderick. I lost the blasted hand and now it seems I am engaged to Miss Elizabeth
Shelby of Portsmouth. Her family should be arriving tomorrow to stay at your
townhouse." He lifted his head, letting out a twisted smile. "Hope
you don't mind, your dukeness."

"Don't
mind?" Roderick snapped, throwing a hand through his blue-black hair.

His
brother Clayton grabbed Stephen by the arm. "Have you gone mad? You cannot
marry a girl you don't know."

"How
kind of you to give me such wonderful information," Stephen said, knowing
that even though Clayton was two years his senior, it did not signify in the
least. "Why did I not think of that before? The size of your peabrain
never ceases to amaze me. Must be those violet blue eyes of yours, all beauty
and no brains."

Clayton's
lips thinned. "I would not be speaking of brains at a time like
this."

"Ask
me if I am surprised," Marcus said, downing a glass of port. "Because
I'm not."

Scowling,
Stephen spun the glass between his thumb and forefinger. By Jove, only a year
younger than Roderick, Marcus looked like the duke with his dark hair and gray
eyes, and he was acting just as pompously.

"You
have been gambling for high stakes the past three years, little brother,"
Marcus went on. "Drinking too."

Stephen
looked away. Unfortunately, Marcus was correct. The past three years, since he
had the argument with his father that had sent the duke galloping through the
fields and falling off his horse to his death, he had been drinking to excess.

The
drinking had not ceased when he returned from Waterloo. Memories had haunted
him of that day he stabbed the Frenchie and the dying man fell into his arms,
asking him to pray for his two motherless baby sons who were now without a
family to fend for them. Hell, yes, the past three years had been too long
indeed.

But had
those years of guilt been long enough to wash away the pain? Had they been long
enough to forget the way he had lashed out at his father for the man's
treatment of the duchess and then had his father died because of it? Had those
years seen enough gambling and drinking to turn his life around?

Lord
help him, he didn't know any more.

"Stephen,
Marcus asked you a question." Roderick cuffed his brother on the shoulder,
obviously annoyed at the entire situation. "Can this idiotic engagement be
withdrawn?"

Stephen
shook his head. "I was without the required payment at the time. It was
cash on the table. I knew it. Shelby knew it. I fear the man had already chosen
me to be his daughter's husband. I had already fallen into the trap before I
knew what was happening. He wanted a titled gentleman."

Clayton
smiled and leaned down to look his brother in the eye. "No offense, dear
brother, but you are only the fourth son of a duke. Shelby should have chosen
dear Roderick here if he wanted a grand title. Why, the Duke of Elbourne is as
pompous as they get. Except for Prinny, that is."

Stephen's
lips curled into a wry twist. "What a nice thing to say, especially since
he is already married. It seems Marcus and you would have been better
prizes."

Clayton
frowned. "I daresay. Let's not get any ideas."

"You
cannot be serious about this," Roderick said to Stephen.

"Serious?
I am deadly serious. There is naught for me to do about it. If the announcement
did not make it into the papers today, it will be there tomorrow. I shan't jilt
the girl now."

"Oh
ho." Clayton slapped a hand against the table. "So you have an eye
for the silly female in question?"

Stephen
shot him an icy glare. "She may be headstrong, but she is not silly."

Roderick
began to smile. "Is she as pretty as her father?"

Clayton
and Marcus let out a snort of laughter.

"I
hope not," Clayton uttered. "Does she have any teeth?"

Marcus
laughed again.

Stephen's
grip on his glass tightened. He wished he had not said a thing to his brothers.
"I will not discuss Miss Shelby, and if you know what is good for you,
neither will you."

The
brothers closed their mouths and narrowed their eyes.

"Can
we buy this fellow off?" Roderick asked grimly.

Stephen
shook his head, recalling the set of innocent blue eyes that had glared at him
with such contempt in the library. He remembered the tears earlier that day.
But it was that steadfast gaze staring back at him last night, when Miss Shelby
was caring for Lady Odette that pierced his soul.

Miss
Shelby was a sensitive creature, with more heart than most women he knew. He
could not humiliate her. Not now. Not ever.

"Money
will not win Shelby over. He is determined to see his daughter married to a
lord. Can you believe Fennington has been hounding her?"

Roderick
raised a stem brow. "Not that idiot!"

"Does
he still carry that infernal quizzing glass?" Marcus asked, his eyes
narrowing. "What an abomination."

Stephen
nodded. "Afraid so."

He did
not tell them his fiancée thought herself in love with the fool or that she had
made plans to run away to Gretna Green with him.

"Then
it seems unless a miracle happens, our poor brother here is to be wed as soon
as that special license becomes available."

Stephen
ground his teeth at Clayton's remark. Miracles were things he did not believe
in these days, at least for him.

William
Shelby's coach rolled steadily along the country road on its way to the Elbourne
townhouse in Mayfair. Elizabeth stared out the window, her temper still in full
boil after Milli's remark concerning Lord Stephen and the cherry juice the girl
had poured into Odette's chocolate.

"That
was very kind of you to care for Lady Odette, my dear," her father
announced.

William
Shelby had been trying to gain her attention for the last half hour, but
Elizabeth was so mad at him she could spit. She finally looked at him, knowing
Milli was asleep, bundled in the blanket beside her.

"How
could you continue this charade with ... with that man?" she whispered in
a raw tone.

She
really wanted to say, How could you make me marry a man who would intentionally
make another woman ill by throwing cherry juice in her drink? How could you
make me marry a man when I want another? How could you ruin my life?

Shelby
shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Now, Lizzie, you cannot stay angry
with me for the rest of your life."

She
stiffened and shifted her gaze to the window. They were coming into London.
"Then do not make me marry this man."

William
Shelby sighed and folded his hands across his lap. "This is for the best,
poppet. He is a good man."

"Good
man? He is a bounder and a cad  You have no idea what kind of man he is."

Milli
peeked out from beneath her blanket and frowned.

"My
Egypt is so ill, I fear I may die as well."

Stephen's
mother, now Lady Bringston, a duchess who had married a marquess, glanced up at
the youngest of her four sons. Her violet eyes pooled with tears as she sat in
the drawing room of the Elbourne townhouse holding her fluffy white feline to
her breast. "You know, one would think it was ... but oh, no, it could not
be. There are no male cats on our estates. Besides, Egypt stays inside."

Barely
glancing at his mother or even hearing her words, Stephen paced the room,
raising a hand to smooth the knot of muscles in his neck. His thoughts were on
the Shelbys.

"I
do wish Bringston were here. He would know what to do."

"What
was that, Mother?" What in the world was she talking about? Was she crying
over Bringston?

"Nothing,
dear."

Stephen
walked into the hall, then back into the drawing room. Roderick and his wife
had prior engagements and had gone out for the day, but the duke had given
Stephen strict orders to stay at the townhouse to await his unwanted
guests—otherwise the guests would not be staying.

"I
am so happy you have found someone to spend the rest of your life with, dear. I
own I was worried about that gambling habit of yours."

Stephen
peered out the window. "Yes, well my games of high stakes are behind
me."

And so
is my life, he thought grimly. His mother was delighted to discover he was
finally marrying. The lady had no idea he had been bamboozled into the wedding.

"I
fear I must look like something Egypt brought in from the garden," the
lady said. “I should freshen up a bit. If your guests arrive before I return,
you can have them shown to their rooms. And don't forget, Lord Stonebridge and
your sister will be arriving soon."

Stephen
had discovered only late last night that his sister would be staying at the
duke's home too, though she would be confined to the house. The doctor had said
her pains were coming too early for the baby to be delivered. Fearing for his
wife's health, Stonebridge had insisted on moving her into the Elbourne
townhouse so she would be in better company when the baby arrived.

Stephen
turned suddenly at the sound of dragging feet and a loud sniff. "Mother,
are you ill?"

The lady
had neared the door. She shook her head and gave a sob. "It's ... my
poor... Egypt." Clutching the cat, she hastened from the room.

With a
pang, Stephen realized his mother was worried about Egypt's condition, and the
idiot that he was, he hadn't been listening to anything she had said in the
last half hour unless it had pertained to him.

To his
dismay, he was stopped from running after her by the butler's announcement of
the arrival of William Shelby and his family. Not a minute later his sister
arrived and the introductions were made.

Stephen
thought Elizabeth Shelby looked pale and worn. She showed all outward signs of
his innermost feelings.

As soon
as the guests were shown to their bedchambers, he went in search of his mother
but to no avail. An hour later the Shelbys rejoined him in the drawing room.

"Lord
Stephen," Shelby said, his eyes taking in the room, "the duke has a
fine home here. Not as grand as the one I have in Bath, but fine indeed. I am
looking for a house here in London near St. James. Actually two. Would you know
of any?"

A muscle
ticked on the side of Stephen's jaw and he refrained from answering. Two
townhouses directly beside each other, he thought. That would be the day when
he let his father-in-law live next door!

Out of
the corner of his eye, Stephen watched Elizabeth's face grow taut as she walked
toward the bay window looking onto the street. She was as embarrassed as he at
her father's words. But she carried herself with such an inner grace it touched
him. It also intrigued him that she had just met his sister, and yet, the two had
been talking to each other like the best of friends.

Unfortunately,
Emily had already retired to her chambers for a rest. Lord Stonebridge was
nowhere to be found as well. He was probably hovering over Emily, treating her
as if she were as fragile as the blue china cup Shelby was holding.

That
left Stephen as the sole person to receive and entertain the three Shelbys.

"Oh,
Papa," Milli said, frowning. "I would like to return to my
bedchambers. I do feel a headache coming on." Her body instantly went limp
and she fell on top of the sofa with a plop.

Concerned,
Stephen shot from his seat. "Is she ill? Should I fetch a doctor?" He
turned when he heard muffled laughter coming from the other side of the room.
"You find your sister's ill health funny, Miss Shelby?"

Blue
eyes twinkled back at him. "Oh no, my lord."

"But
I do have a headache," Milli said, sitting up. "A horrid one."

"Very
well, dear," Shelby said as Stephen pulled the bell cord. "Follow the
servant to your chambers."

Milli
obviously sighed with relief when the maid immediately entered. The girl
departed from the room, almost running. "It hurts something terribly.
Could be a bout of apoplexy!"

"Well,"
Shelby said, patting his belly and exchanging suggestive looks with his
daughter and Stephen. "Must rest before the meal, you know."

He left
before Elizabeth could say a word. She turned three shades of pink and dropped
her gaze to the floor. "I am tired as well, my lord. If you would please
excuse me."