The Wagered Bride (25 page)

She
yelped in protest "Mr. Baskers, please!"

Eyes
gleaming, Stephen rolled back on his heels. "Ah, drastic measures, Mr.
Baskers? May I invite you to the wedding?"

Mr.
Baskers brandished a gap-toothed smile. "'Course, my lord," he said
in a mocking tone, then disappeared around the corner, Mrs. Baskers yapping in
his ears.

Elizabeth
rose. "Should we go after them?"

Stephen
laughed, swinging her into his arms. "Certainly not. It seems Baskers
takes drastic measures quite seriously."

"And
you, my lord? What say you to drastic measures?"

Stephen
let out a deep growl as he kissed her with a hunger that sent her senses
spinning. "I love you, Elizabeth. Do not ever run from me again. I could
not live without you."

Tears
pricked her eyelids as his lips slowly descended to meet hers once again. But
Mrs. Baskers' giggling screech pierced the air, separating the two. "Mr.
Baskers ... please!"

Stephen's
chest rumbled with laughter. "What say you to drastic measures, dearest
Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth
backed up, pressing a hand against his chest. "Drastic measures may be
taken after the wedding, my lord."

Stephen's
eyes devoured her as he slipped the special license from his pocket. "Is
tomorrow soon enough?"

She ran
from him, laughing. Stephen was hard on her heels and caught her in the hall,
pulling her against him. "Is it?"

"What?"
she asked, her heart singing with happiness.

"Soon
enough?" His words were a whispered caress and a hot ache of love grew in
her breast.

She sank
against him. "I would like my family to be there."

"Very
well. We can travel today and marry tomorrow. But you may inform Milli I won't
be galloping in on a white horse or wearing a suit of armor. Speaking of that
imp, I think she dropped an entire bottle of lavender in Pharaoh's
basket."

Elizabeth
muffled a laugh against his shoulder. He smelled distinctly of lavender.
"Tomorrow will be soon enough."

He
fitted himself alongside her and buried his face in her hair. "Perhaps we
should call in Mrs. Baskers after all."

"She
won't be coming now," she said, smiling wickedly and lifting her head.
"Drastic measures, you know."

He
laughed, then his gaze turned serious. "I love you."

She
touched a hand to his face. "And I you, Stephen."

A half
hour later they rode from the cottage as the last of the sinking sun hit the
horizon in wide ribbons of pink and orange.

Elizabeth
smiled, petting the wide-eyed feline in the basket beside her.
"Stephen?"

He took
her hand in his. "Yes, my love?"

"How
old was that suit of armor?"

He
looked puzzled. "Not certain. Why?"

She
gazed out the window of the carriage and put on her spectacles, staring back at
him. "Oh, I just wanted to know all the answers when your brothers
asked."

Within a
heartbeat, she was on his lap, laughing.

Stephen
whipped off the spectacles and held her hands against his chest, a slow grin
spreading across his face.

"Should
I tell you now what drastic measures I will take if you dare say a single word
to them? Or if you ever try to scare me with those spectacles or another
inkwell?"

She
nodded, her eyes lit with tenderness. "Tell me."

All
playfulness fled from his face. "You are everything I ever hoped for in a
wife, my dear, sweet Elizabeth."

"And
I don't care if you are the fourth son of a duke."

A small
rumble of amusement broke from his lips. "I gather drastic measures will
be accepted from the fourth son of a duke?"

She
wrapped her hands around his neck, wondering how God could be so good to her.
"Very drastic measures, my lord."

"Hoyden,"
he said huskily and closed the lid to the basket holding the wide-eyed kitten.
"Drastic measures, indeed."

He
kissed her fiercely, wondering how God could be so good to him.

As time
passed, one lavender-scented coach hastened along the road to London, its
clattering wheels and jingling harnesses drowning out the mews of one curious
kitten and a couple very much in love.

Drastically
in love.

THE CONVENIENT BRIDE

-Book
3-

The
Clearbrook Series

Excerpt,
Copyright © Teresa McCarthy, 2005

All rights
reserved

Chapter One

S
he was in love. His favorite food was
roasted duck with plum sauce. He enjoyed bayberry soap with his bath. And he
liked raspberry tarts for breakfast. There wasn't much sixteen-year-old Briana
Garland didn't know about Lord Clayton Clearbrook.

Standing
in the shade of a cluster of oak trees blocking the afternoon sun, Briana
glanced through the window of the massive ballroom of Elbourne Hall and let out
an audible sigh. Metal clashed against metal as the fencers slid over the newly
shined dance floor of the Duke of Elbourne's country estate.

He
looked positively magnificent.

Coffee-colored
hair flew about his handsome face, giving him the appearance of a pirate on the
high seas. Long, powerful legs lunged against his enemy with such perfect form
it made her shudder. Lord Clayton was four years her senior and her ideal man.

"Oh,
don't be taken in, Bree. They are not that dashing," sixteen-year-old Lady
Emily pronounced, leaning her elbows on the outside ledge of the open window,
gazing into the ballroom.

Briana
felt a blush climb up her throat. Caught up in the world of dueling swordsmen,
she had almost forgotten about her friend.

The
duke's only daughter rolled her eyes. "They are my brothers, not at all
the type of gentleman one would want to dream about. The ninnies don't even
know we're watching them."

Briana
shifted her gaze back to the swordplay as the weapons hissed through the air.

Clayton
was pitted against his brother Marcus, who was a year older than he. Stephen,
the youngest of Emily's brothers, born a few years before his sister, stood on
the side, jeering his siblings on. Curses flew from one end of the room to the
other and Briana's color deepened.

She was
staying at Elbourne Hall this summer, as she had for the past few years. Her
mother, a longtime friend of the duchess, had made the arrangement in hopes
that Briana would attach herself to one of the Clearbrook brothers.

Not that
Briana should set her eyes on Roderick, who was in line to be duke, her mother
had said, but one of the other boys would be agreeable enough.

Briana
rested her shoulder against the mansion, wondering how on earth she could ever
think to be part of this family. Marriage to any of the brothers was
practically hopeless. Although she was almost out of the schoolroom, just like
her friend Emily, the Clearbrook males still considered them mere children.

"I
did not say they were dashing," Briana said, trying to justify her
attentions.

Emily's
eyes twinkled. "You didn't have to. Many of my friends think my brothers
dashing and all that rubbish. But that is where you are different, Bree. You
will not throw yourself at them like most females."

Still
resting her elbows on the sill, Emily leaned her chin against her palm.
"Depend upon it, they are able to turn grown women into pudding in the
wink of an eye. I daresay it is the most disgusting thing you ever want to
see."

Briana
tried not to blink. Oh, she had seen it. Her gaze strayed to Lord Clayton, and
she literally had to hold back another sigh when she caught a glimpse of those
mesmerizing violet blue eyes. Even his jaw held a certain stubbornness that
captivated her.

She
smiled inwardly. His tall, lean form encased in buckskin breeches, along with
his commanding air of self-confidence, only added to his appeal. And although
all the Clearbrook males had many special qualities, memories of Lord Clayton's
kindness were never far from her mind.

It was
less than two years ago when she had fallen off her horse and he had rushed to
her side, wiping the tears and dirt from her face. "Miss Garland, if you
are trying to deprive all the young men in this county of your beautiful eyes,
you are doing a deuced good job of it. They are fairy eyes." His violet
blue gaze danced with mischief and she laughed between her tears.

Since
then, her affection for him had grown, and today she finally realized it was
love.

There
were many times he had caught her reading in the duke's library and never once
had he scoffed at her. In fact, he had done just the opposite. They had
actually carried on intelligent conversations about whatever book she was
studying at the time.

To her,
Lord Clayton Clearbrook was wonderful, a man any girl would want to marry.

"If
you must know, Em, I have never seen anyone fence before. I have read about it,
to be sure. But seeing the real thing is quite exciting."

"They
are using blunted ends, so there is no chance they will die," Emily said
calmly. "I declare it is not at all exciting." She flung her arm
toward the dance floor. "Look at them. They act as if they were
swashbucklers on the high seas."

"They
look like swashbucklers," Briana said quietly.

"Oh,
they box, too. And take lessons at Gentleman Jackson's. Papa says they should
not practice on themselves, but they do anyway. It is all an act for the
ladies. But they have soft hearts, even Roderick, who will be duke one day. And
I do love them and they me."

Eyes
sparkling with mischief, Emily jumped away from the window. "So, you see.
Our plan will work. I can get them to do almost anything I want."

Briana
worried her bottom lip. She had no doubt who would win in the battle of wills.
Since Roderick was away, with their father, the other brothers were mere
puppets in Emily's hands.

Baring a
devilish grin, Emily pressed her hand against the jasmine flowers climbing the
wall beside them. "Remember that day I had them take me back to the
village for a special ribbon I had seen in the shopkeeper's window?"

Briana
nodded, her lips curling upward. Emily's grin was infectious. "It was last
year and your father was furious. A storm was ravaging the countryside. We were
soaked to the bone."

Emily
chuckled. "Yes, and we had to stay at Lord Kingsdale's home to dry. Mama
was livid. She never liked him, even though he is friends with Clayton."

"Oh,
I thought Lord Kingsdale quite nice. In fact, he likes Egyptian architecture,
you know. We talked about it for hours." But he was no Clayton, she wanted
to say.

"Yes,
he was quite agreeable that day," Emily said with a shrug, turning her
head back to the ballroom.

 Briana
picked a white petal off the flowering vine and glanced at her friend. Emily's
raven black hair and violet blue eyes, the same shade as Clayton's, were
stunning.

"My
sister is like you, Em. Pretty and quite the thing. In a few years, I imagine
she will sway many a gentleman her way."

Emily
angled her head toward Briana. "You are quite pretty, Bree. No one I know
has eyes as green as yours. I think Clayton calls them fairy eyes."

Had he
mentioned her eyes to Emily? Hope sprang within Briana as she peered back into
the ballroom. Male voices echoed about the room, mingling with the clash of
steel.

"I
don't know about this plan," she said to Emily. Her petal fell to the
ground, and she began to wring her hands on her muslin skirt. What would Lord
Clayton say when he discovered their ploy? "It makes me nervous. Perhaps
we should wait—"

Emily
grabbed Briana's hand in a friendly squeeze. "Wait? Why wait? This is the
perfect time."

"But
Mama will not allow me to learn that dance."

"What
does that matter? My mama won't allow it either. What are we to do during our
first London Season without knowledge of the latest dances?"

"I
don't—"

"Oh,"
Emily interrupted, as the male voices rose in intensity. "Listen, Bree.
They are having a great row now. Fists will soon be flying. It's the best time
to approach them."

Briana
looked on, the blood rushing to her head. Maybe Emily's brothers would never
discover their scheme. Besides, this might be the one time Briana could be
close to Lord Clayton, and who knew what would happen when she went to London
and had her Season. She would know the dance by then, and he might even ask her
for a waltz at Almack's if the patroness gave permission. "I see. When they
are thinking of something else, then we attack?"

"Precisely,"
Emily said, smiling. "When a female has four brawny brothers, she has to
fight with her brain because brute strength certainly won't work. Remember
that, Bree. It will help you in the Season, especially with the male
gender."

No
sooner had Briana tucked the idea away when a shout penetrated her thoughts.
She stared in amazement at the fiery exchange taking place. The stakes seemed
to be rising.

"Clay,
watch out! You'd best be careful with your footing! To the left, you peabrain!
Thrust, Marcus! Parry, parry, thrust!"

A growl
erupted from Clayton as Marcus gave another jab of his sword.

"Bad
form, Clay," Stephen spouted, his voice laced with amusement. "I say,
very bad indeed. What the devil were you doing? I told you to go left."

Clayton
did not think his brother's words funny in the least. He stepped to the side,
his sword slicing Stephen's way. "Button your blasted lips or I shall do
it for you!"

Stephen
crossed his arms over his chest and laughed. "Oh ho! I would like to see
you try! I believe Marcus scored that point, not you!"

Marcus's
black hair flew over his temple as he let his sword fall to his side. "Do
you two have to go at it again?"

Stephen
shrugged and made his way across the room, fingering the pianoforte. "If
Clayton says please, I just might stop."

Briana's
brows lifted in mute horror as she watched Clayton march toward his brother.
"I am going to skewer you with the point of this blade, little
brother."

"That's
the problem with you, Clay," Stephen said, laughing. "You don't even
know the point is flat."

"Emily,
they are going to hurt each other," Briana said anxiously.

"No,
no, they won't. Now just play along with me, and we will have them eating out
of our hands."

"But—"

It was
too late to protest. Emily gave an earsplitting whine of distress that made
Briana scream herself.

Clayton's
gaze snapped toward the window, and all three brothers froze. Out of the corner
of her eye, Emily glanced up at Briana. Briana blinked in shock, too paralyzed
to think.

"Follow
my lead," Emily whispered. "We will be learning the waltz in no time.
Here they come."

The
click of heels echoed in Briana's ears like the pounding of a huge drum.
"What?" she gasped.

"They
cannot stand tears," Emily said through stiff lips. "Just do what I
do. But for goodness' sake, don't stare at them with those fairy eyes of yours.
Your face will give everything away."

"Em?"
Clayton said, poking his head out the window. Stephen and Marcus stood
anxiously beside him.

Emily
cried harder into her handkerchief. Briana dropped her gaze to the ground, her
mouth glued shut in terror.

"What
the blazes is wrong?" Clayton asked.

Briana
forgot the plan and raised her head. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth
as she gazed into Clayton's beautiful eyes. They were more blue than violet
now. Their color seemed to change with his emotions. She well remembered when
they had deepened to a dark sapphire the day Emily had placed a buttered scone
on his seat, ruining his new jacket.

No,
these were a soft dusky blue, full of concern and worry. Sweat beaded along his
brow and across the open neck of his shirt. Briana tore her gaze away.

"What
the devil is wrong with you two?" It was Lord Marcus and he sounded quite
perturbed.

Briana
swallowed past the large lump blocking her throat. Fudge! She was in the thick
of it now. Her face burned with embarrassment. She opened her mouth and closed
it feeling like a fool.

"Jupiter
and Zeus," Stephen said from behind. "Do you know you interrupted a
very desperate battle?"

Briana
thought she heard a snicker from beneath Emily's handkerchief. Goodness, the
girl had her brothers twisted around her finger like the vine of the jasmine
flowers beside them.

The
brothers seemed so tall and powerful, it amazed Briana how one wail from a
little female could change their steely demeanor to one of intense concern.
Briana didn't know much about feminine wiles, but she was learning fast

"Em,"
Clayton said, his voice kindness itself, "what's wrong?"

Emily
peeked over her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. Shiny black hair winked in
the sunlight, making Briana all too aware of her own dull auburn locks. Feeling
extraordinarily self-conscious, she stepped back into the shadows.