The Wagered Bride (19 page)

"Hell,
Roderick! It was not my plan. Shelby threw his daughter at me, as if she were
nothing but a piece of land to be bartered. I could not pay my debts at the
table. Thank heaven it was me and not some nefarious scoundrel that received
her."

Roderick
paused. "She loves you, you know."

"I
believed in that kind of love for about a minute, before she met up with
Fennington again."

"You
must be blind or stupid. Perhaps both. That girl is in love with you. However,
even if she were not, if I were in your place, I would get on my knees and beg
her to marry me. A man doesn't run into a lady like that more than once in a
lifetime. And if he does, she is someone else's wife."

A faint
smile touched Stephen's lips. "Like Jane?"

"Quite
so."

"You
can say that easily enough, but it is I who will enter into a marriage of
convenience, not you."

"I
already told you, she loves you."

"Then
why would she ask to dissolve the engagement if she loves me?" He knew the
situation with her mother had nothing to do with it.

Roderick
threw up his hands in disgust. "She wants your devotion, love, all that
silly stuff women like."

"How
the deuce am I to do that?"

Roderick's
gaze narrowed. "I have heard you are a charming fellow when you want to
be."

"For
the love of King George, I am no monk, Roderick. I have kissed her more than
once. She is not immune to me, but that is not the same as love."

He took
Roderick's drink and lifted it to his lips, downing the brandy, then slapping
the glass back onto the desk. "She loves that idiot Fennington."

Roderick
shot from his seat. "Fennington is over and done with! Take my word, it
was Fennington who was chasing her, not the other way around. Just like the
weasel did with Emily. Well, no matter. He should be flying the English flag on
the Atlantic by now."

Stephen
blinked. So, Roderick had followed through after all. Good riddance.

"Perhaps
I am mistaken, Roderick, but she still does not want this marriage, and neither
do I if she does not love me."

"Confound
it, you must have a brain the size of a pea."

"I
think you mean peabrain," Stephen said mockingly.

There
was a knock on the door, and Roderick gave permission for the butler to enter.

"Your
Grace, I am here to inform you that Mr. Shelby and his daughters are leaving
the premises."

"And
when was this decision made?" Stephen's glacial tone sent the butler's
brows shooting upward.

"I
believe after Miss Shelby returned with you last evening, my lord. Is there
anything else, Your Grace?"

"No,
Crosby, that is all for now."

After
the servant left, Stephen shifted a knowing gaze back to his brother. "And
you believed her in love with me? You must think me a complete fool."

"You
are one if you don't go after her."

Stephen
recognized the commanding tilt of his brother's brow and would have smiled if
the comment did not demand an action on his part.

"After
her? You must be joking? If the lady cannot tell me her good-byes, then I will
bid her farewell from here."

"Hell's
teeth, your pride will be your downfall. You are a greater fool than
Fennington."

"A
greater fool, no. A fool, yes."

"I
cannot see why we should have to leave today, Lizzie."

Barely
acknowledging her father's words, Elizabeth stood on the walk outside the
Elbourne townhouse and frowned as the footmen loaded her trunks. She had said
her farewells to everyone but Stephen. He seemed to be deliberately avoiding
her.

But it
was better this way, she thought, letting out a trembling sigh. The note she
left him was to be delivered after they departed.

"Aunt
Polly is ill, Papa, and I need to tend to her."

Elizabeth
lied. She would never admit that she had used her godmother as a last resort.
The older lady was like a general, and once Aunt Polly had received word of the
forced engagement, she demanded that Elizabeth come to her if she were ever in
need of a safe haven.

Elizabeth
blinked back tears as she watched the horses' breath swirl in the cold spring
air. Safe haven from her heart would be all but impossible, but she would do
anything to escape a marriage where her husband did not love her. Seeing
Stephen and knowing he did not love her was too much to bear.

No doubt
he was probably glad to rid himself of her, no matter what he had said. Her
mother had never married her father. That was scandalous in the eyes of the
ton
.

William
Shelby shook his head. "Polly and I never got along, Lizzie. I don't
suppose you would care to send along your medical bag, and we could stay here
until you marry."

Elizabeth
dared a glance at her father.

She was
amazed she could get him to leave the duke's home so easily, when he would not
release her from her engagement. Though she could never be completely forced
into the marriage, the situation had already gone too far to back out unless
the parties involved were agreeable to the terms, and she did not see that
happening any time soon.

"We
have outstayed our welcome, Papa. I have asked that the wedding be
postponed." She had said more than that in the letter. "Besides, I
cannot justify staying at the duke's home any longer than need be. Aunt Polly
needs me."

Liar,
she thought again. She needed her Aunt Polly.

"But
I can rent a townhouse, poppet, if that's what's worrying you. Your Aunt Polly
is not going to die. Probably a silly cold. I can send the best doctor to her
side before the day is out and then we can stay at the best hotel in
London."

Her
father had been wounded by her coolness after he had disclosed the information
about her mother, but she could not offer him any sympathy. He had hurt her
deeply. With the forced engagement and now the disclosure of her sordid
background, she was too hurt and embarrassed to face Stephen again, let alone let
him kiss her. She had to distance herself and form some kind of plan. A plan
that would involve her heart as little as possible.

"I
have no qualms about his lordship coming to our home and wooing you before your
wedding," her father went on. "I know you have not been comfortable
here, but I thought it would be for the best. Seems I was wrong."

He spoke
with such an ache in his voice she almost let him have his way. Yet she could
not give in to his every whim. She needed time to think. And if she had to work
on his sympathy, then so be it. It could very well lead to her freedom.

Milli
grabbed her black kitten and looked up. "I would not have Cleopatra if we
had not come here, Papa."

"I
believe one cat is enough, Milli. You will not bring that to Tavton Hall.
Crabby old thing won't allow it."

 Milli
held her kitten tighter to her bosom. "Aunt Polly's going to allow
Lizzie's cat that she picked up in the alley the other day; why not mine?"

"Lizzie's
cat is staying in the stables. It was a stray that needed help, and it was never
meant to be part of the family."

The cat
they were speaking of had been found half-dead in an alley beside the lending
library. Elizabeth had mended its cuts and bruises while keeping it in the
Elbourne stables. It was doing fine now. She wished her heart were as easy to
fix.

"Well,
then, I will hide Cleo from Aunt Polly," Millie said. "I will keep
her under my bed. Lady Bringston would be horrified if I returned the
gift." The tiny kitten wiggled in her hand, and she smiled. "See, the
poor thing thinks I'm its mother. Did you know that Lord Stephen named one of
the kittens King Tutankhamen? Is that not the silliest thing?"

Elizabeth
ignored Milli's comment as they stepped toward the carriage. A fierce wind
swept down the walk. Elizabeth slapped a hand to her hat, trying to keep her
turbulent emotions at bay. She didn't want to think about Stephen or his
charms.

His
tenderness with the kittens touched her. His patience with Milli's theatrics
impressed her. But his love for his family captivated her. When she had seen
him hold Lady Emily's baby in the crook of his arm, she could not deny her
attraction to him.

The more
time she spent with him, the more she loved him.

But if
she stayed in this home any longer, seeing him at every meal, she would end up
married to a man who did not love her and she could not have that. Oh, he would
be kind to her. He would use that undeniable charm, but it would be all one
gigantic lie because he did not love her. And to add to that, her father's
money would always be between them.

"Elizabeth,
I would like a word with you, please."

Stephen's
voice hit Elizabeth's ears the exact moment she entered the carriage behind
Milli and her father. She tightened her grip on her reticule and sank onto the
velvety coach seats across from her family, ignoring the harsh beating of her
heart.

Stephen
bent his head toward the door, his dark brown hair gleaming in the sunlight. He
was too handsome for his own good.

For a
second, she thought she saw a flash of pain cross his chiseled features, but
she realized she must have been mistaken. She was seeing a reflection of what
was in her own heart.

"You
are leaving to visit your sick aunt?" he asked dryly.

She
nodded, her lips pinched. Was it his fault she had fallen in love with him? She
clenched her jaw. Yes, yes it was.

It was
as if the door were slamming on her heart as she met his challenging gaze and
managed a brilliant smile. "Good-bye, my lord. I do hope you thought about
what I said earlier."

His eyes
darkened and his hand shot out, gripping her arm. "I have need to speak to
you in private."

The heat
of his touch scorched a path straight to her toes. "Whatever you have to
say, you may say it here."

To her
shock, he sent her father a knowing look.

William
Shelby grabbed his youngest daughter's hand. "Do believe I forgot a few
things in the library. Milli, come along."

Milli's
mouth dropped in shock. "But Elizabeth has no wish to be with him. He—he
might kiss her again."

Elizabeth
could not be more embarrassed than she was now.

"Millicent."
William Shelby had already departed the carriage, tugging at his youngest
daughter's hand.

Wide-eyed,
Milli descended the carriage, clutching a mewing Cleopatra to her chest and
dragging her feet every step of the way, barely moving aside as Lord Stephen
Clearbrook hopped up the carriage steps, closing the door behind him.

Elizabeth’s
sense were buzzing. The carriage instantly smelled of bayberry and leather, a
dangerous combination of cleanliness and ruggedness that made her heart tumble
at the mere sight of this man.  “What?  What is it you want?”

Stephen
smiled, folding his hands across his chest, deliberately invading her space. "You
are not indifferent to me, Elizabeth."

Her
cheeks grew warm, but she remained silent.

"I
believe Roderick was correct." He leaned forward and took her hands in
his. "Tell me you do not love me."

"Love
you? What a silly thing to say."

He shot
her a devastating smile. "You do love me."

Elizabeth
fidgeted in her seat, feeling his fingers running circles on her wrists beneath
her gloved hands, a practice he was becoming very good at. She could not let
him do this to her. She could withstand his charms. Her life depended upon it.

"You
must be insane."

"Am
I?" He slid closer to her, his breath a sweet caress.

There
was not a moment to lose. "Open that door at once."

"Tell
me you do not love me, and I will open it."

She
refused to look at him because she knew, without a doubt, those warm dark eyes
would instantly devour her. And then where would she be? In his arms with a
broken heart.

"No."

Chapter Thirteen

"N
o, what?"

"No,
I won't answer. Now if you refuse to open the door, I will take my leave of you
and
you
can go to Aunt Polly's."

"Very
well. But let me tell you one thing, your mother, whoever she was, has nothing
to do with this."

He
slipped his fingers beneath her chin and gently turned her to face him.
Challenging brown eyes glittered back at her.

It
seemed that minutes passed before he spoke to her again. "Venture to your
Aunt Polly's then. I understand her direction is near St. James. I'll be
visiting you tomorrow for a morning call and every day until we are married
next week."

Next
week? "I do not want you to visit, my lord."

His lips
thinned. "Nevertheless, I will."

"But
you must not."

"Why?"

"Because
I asked you to postpone the wedding. And... because I do not want this marriage
at all." Because you do not love me.

She
thought she heard him growl. "You love Fennington?"

"I
believed I was in love with the man. But I realize he was only after my
father's coin." To her astonishment, her formidable glare did nothing but
draw a smile from the man.

"Well,
then, I have saved you from a life with a man you did not love. And now you are
in my debt, are you not?"

There
was a wicked gleam in his gaze that pushed her back against the seat.
"Yes. I mean, no, I mean—"

"You
mean you love me, then?"

"Yes
... er, no," she replied with an obvious stutter, her cheeks turning pink
with confusion. "You tricked me!"

A set of
bright white teeth flashed her way. "You love me, Elizabeth." It
wasn't a question, it was a fact.

She said
nothing. She did love him and hated herself for that. He would only break her
heart. She remembered Fennington's words. He never told you he loved you.

The door
burst open and Milli poked her head inside.

"Did
he kiss you, Lizzie? Did he? Papa still thinks I'm playing chess in the drawing
room with Lord Marcus, but I let Cleopatra loose, and little though she is, she
clawed his lordship's favorite jacket to shreds. He is not very agreeable at
the moment, and I daresay he did not like it a bit when I told him he deserved
it."

"Good
heavens, Millicent!"

Stephen
let out a husky laugh. "No, Milli. I have not kissed her... yet."

Milli
waited patiently by the door, gawking, her innocent black kitten peering over
her cupped hands. "Well, go ahead. Papa wall be here any minute, looking
for me, and I'm afraid that brother of yours might find me out soon enough. I
do not have nine lives, you know."

Elizabeth
scooted back against the corner of the carriage. "Get in, Milli."

"Stay
out and close the door, Milli."

Milli
frowned.

Elizabeth
tightened her grip on her reticule. "Don't you dare listen to him. He is
not your father. Get in, Millicent."

Milli
opened her mouth, but Stephen pointed her toward the walk. "One minute and
then you may come in."

"But
I would like to see what happens," she said, peeking further into the
carriage. "I can use some practice for my love scenes when I am on
stage."

Stephen
coughed, smothering a laugh, but Elizabeth heard it, and she was furious.
"Milli, get in here. Now!"

"If
she stays," Stephen said, "then that is your choice."

Elizabeth
gasped. "You would not dare to do anything in front of a child," she
hissed.

Stephen
did not give her a chance to answer before he stifled her words with a kiss.

As the
carriage rolled to Aunt Polly's, Milli sat as mute as her kitten, her mouth
tight and curled upward, staring at Elizabeth as if her sister were the goddess
of love.

"What
are you staring at?" Elizabeth snapped, the memory of that kiss still
making her bones weak.

Milli
looked at her papa, then Elizabeth again. "I was wondering if he loves
you, too."

"
'Course he does," William Shelby said.

"Oh,
Papa," Elizabeth sighed, finally giving way to the grief that had taken
hold of her since she had met Lord Stephen. He only wanted her money. And his
charms would get him everything he wanted. "How could you say such a
thing?"

She
barely held onto a sob before she broke forth in a river of tears.

Milli
glared at her father. "That was terrible."

William
Shelby blushed. "What? What did I say?"

Polly
Crimmons was a slender, fifty-year-old, no-nonsense type of lady who did not
take lightly to the engagement of her goddaughter to a man who did not love
her. "You do not want to marry this lord, Elizabeth. That point is
obvious."

"He
does not love me." Elizabeth sipped her tea, the lump in her throat
growing larger every minute she stayed away from that pair of charming brown
eyes. But it had to be done.

Polly
tilted her head to study her godchild.

The
lady's flamboyant gown of pink fitted her personality as much as the salon they
were sitting in. The walls were painted gold with black stripes. Red velvet
curtains framed the window. Plush settees of deep brown and purple filled the
room in a style more suitable for an Arabian princess than an English spinster.

Elizabeth
stared into her cup. "He gambles, Aunt Polly."

"Ah,
a gamester, is he? How many men do not gamble today? Even your father gambles.
The lout."

Elizabeth
chewed her bottom lip, wishing things were different. As soon as they had
arrived at Tavton Hall, William Shelby had taken Milli to Leicester Square for
an ice—anything not to be within ten feet of Elizabeth's godmother, who had
been a friend to his wife Sarah. The lady was not truly their aunt by blood,
but that was all Elizabeth had ever known her as.

Elizabeth's
pained gaze shifted back to her aunt. "Papa is adamant about this engagement.
You have seen the announcement in the papers. Lord Stephen has the special
license. He told me he will be visiting me every day until we are married.
There is nothing I can do."

Polly
rang for the maid. "My dear, there is always a choice to be made. Always
something you can do."

A
squeezing pain claimed Elizabeth's heart when she thought of jilting Stephen.
But if anyone could help her out of this predicament, it was her godmother. She
should have gone to her sooner instead of thinking she could foil her father's
plans by herself.

"Then
you will help me disappear," she said softly. "Your cottage in the
country would be perfect. Once I am there, I will send word to Papa that I
refuse to marry his lordship and the engagement will be dissolved."

And she
would never see Stephen again. She had tried to make that clear to him.

The maid
appeared in the doorway. Polly asked for her carriage to be sent around, then
set her gaze back on Elizabeth. "You wish to run, then? You are afraid of
this mighty lord?" Her godmother's eyes narrowed. "He is a
ruffian?"

Elizabeth
stiffened. "No!"

A
twinkling light appeared in her aunt's eyes. "An ugly scoundrel? So ugly
you had to claim I was sick to visit me?"

"Certainly
not. He is most handsome."

"Ah,
a bounder and a rake?"

"No,"
Elizabeth said defensively. "Too charming at times, but certainly not a
rake."

Her
godmother sighed. "Ah, you love him then?"

Elizabeth
fell silent, her gaze dropping to the floor. Tears filled her throat. "I
love him so much it hurts."

"Then
you must leave him. You cannot marry a man who does not love you. It is an
intolerable situation."

The
bitterness in the lady's voice surprised Elizabeth. "He will have a string
of mistresses. A pile of debts. Night upon night of drunken routs. By all the
king's men, it is too much, Elizabeth! I fear the knave will pick apart your
life like a vulture, stealing away the very soul of your being until your heart
cannot stand it anymore."

Elizabeth
curled her hands into a fist. "You don't know him! He would never treat me
as you say! Never!"

Before
Elizabeth could vindicate Stephen, the butler came into the room. "The
carriage is waiting, madam."

"Very
well." Polly took one last sip of her tea.

Elizabeth's
hand trembled as she placed her teacup back onto the table. The determined
expression on her aunt's face did not bode well. Suddenly she did not think it
such a grand idea that she had come running to her aunt. "Where are you
going?"

"I
am going to find that father of yours and make him withdraw your engagement.
See if I don't."

"But
Papa will be here tonight."

Polly
narrowed her eyes. "I know your father. He is planning his departure as we
speak. He will drop Millicent off and take his leave to who knows where. Then
where will you be?"

Elizabeth
paled, remembering how her father had left her at the duke's home. "He
will not leave me." But she knew her aunt was telling the truth.

"Did
he stay with you at the Elbourne townhouse?"

Elizabeth
reddened and shook her head. "Not all the time."

Polly's
face became a cloud of anger. "That man." The lady marched toward the
hall. "Never fear, my dear. I will see that he does right by you. You will
not marry that despicable lord if I have to ship you off to America to save
you!"

Elizabeth
followed on her heels. "Wait!"

Polly
spun around.

A sob
escaped Elizabeth's throat and she clutched a hand to her mouth. "Please
do not call on Papa. He means well. You know he does. And I do not want to go
to America. Oh, this is such a mess, Aunt Polly. I do not know what to
do."

Polly
gave the maid her cloak. "My dear, you know I would never do anything to
hurt you. I won't go after your father if you don't want me to. At least, not
yet. Now, let's get you back into the drawing room and you can tell your Aunt
Polly everything—including the entire story about that hideous Mr. Fennington.
I declare if that man dares to come sniffing around here, I will have him shot
on sight."

Elizabeth
looked up, shocked.

Polly
smiled as she closed the doors to the drawing room and led Elizabeth to the
sofa. "My dear, you must know by now, Millicent cannot keep a secret. In
fact, I believe she gained some of those theatrical notions from me."

"That
little gabster."

Polly
poured another cup of tea and chuckled. "Yes.  Sometimes I wonder what
other information that little imp has up her sleeve."

"Papa,
may I have another ice?"

"No."
William Shelby wiped the sweat from his brow and heaved a tired sigh. He was
too old to be running around hiding from his eldest daughter.

"But
Papa, I would like another one."

"No
means no, Millicent."

Milli
frowned. "You never pay attention to me. You only want Elizabeth to have
the best things. Why, you even won her a husband. When I am old like her, I
want you to buy me a prince. Of course," she huffed, "we have only a
few more years and I daresay I might be dead by then."

Shelby
blinked. "What did you say?"

"I
said I might be dead by then. Apoplexy, typhoid, influenza. Good gracious,
Papa, it's disheartening to think about. Death and destruction! It's abominably
cruel!"

The shop
grew quiet and heads snapped up to stare.

William's
face reddened at his daughter's outburst. "Millicent, please hold your
tongue."

"But
Papa, everybody dies sometime."

William
pulled at his cravat and stood, taking his daughter by the arm and escorting
her out the door.

"Papa,
my ice!"

"We
will come back another time. Now, come along, Millicent."

Milli
dug in her heels as he dragged her toward the coach. "You love Elizabeth
more! You would never make her leave half of her ice on the table!"

A nearby
couple turned to gawk at the father and daughter.

William
narrowed his eyes at Milli. "Get in that carriage and don't say another
word. One would think you were eight years old. See here, my girl, I should
have sent you back to Bath the minute you showed up at the door
unannounced."

Milli
looked furious. "I didn't like it there," she hissed, climbing into
the carriage. "And the governesses you hire are all horrid too."

The
creases about William Shelby's face deepened as he took his seat beside his
daughter. "Now, what is this about me winning a husband for
Elizabeth?"