Trials of Artemis (3 page)

Walters
sighed. "So, the particulars. Jacqueline has a dowry of three thousand pounds
which will be rendered to you upon the completion of the wedding vows."

"If
you don't mind me saying, sir," Gideon interrupted, "you don't seem
enthused by the idea of this marriage."

"Enthused?
No. But is it necessary? Yes." Walters tossed back the remainder of his
brandy and then his pale blue gaze settled on Gideon again. "Let me be
clear about this. If I didn't think it would do more harm than good to her
reputation I would have called you out this morning for even thinking of
touching my daughter. As she does not seem inclined to this marriage, no, I'm
not in favor of it. But I want my younger daughter Samantha to have a chance at
a good match. I want my wife able to go out in polite society. Neither of those
things will occur with the barest hint of scandal, our family simply isn’t
important enough to withstand it. I will say that I’m disappointed in
Jacqueline for putting us in this position, but there is very little choice in
the outcome now, is there?"

Gideon
shook his head. "No, there appears to be no choice at all."

Both
men were startled from their brooding by the door crashing open.

When
Jack heard that the earl had arrived she raced down the stairs and threw open
the door of her father's study. And there he was. Not to be inconvenienced by
rising early, he had dragged his dissolute, arrogant carcass to her house on
what had to be going on two of the afternoon, and now sat drinking her father's
prized brandy for what probably served as his breakfast. If she had something
close to hand to throw at his head she was fairly sure she would do it. After
her shock had worn off the night before, she had spent hours trying to convince
her father that the marriage wouldn't be necessary or a good idea. It was the
one time in her life she had regretted her natural honesty. If she had kept the
full truth of the situation from her father he might have been more pliable, but
upon hearing even the sketchiest description of what had happened earlier in
the evening he had been consumed with a cold rage, the likes of which she had
never seen. Her frustration had led to crying and pleading, but her
uncharacteristic behavior had seemed to make her father more intractable. Her
only relief had come when Harrington hadn't arrived in the morning. No earl,
not even a note. Surely he had realized that backing away from a hasty
engagement made due to silly social pressures was the best course! Now he was
here, cozened in the warm room as though he were a treasured family friend. It
was outside of enough.

He
rose to his feet and bowed to her as though she weren't standing in the door
breathing heavily from running down two flights of steps. "Miss
Walters."

She
gripped the door handle tightly, a solid anchor in a world that was very much
off-kilter. "Harrington."

He
raised a brow at her more casual use of his name. His gaze traveled up and down
her length in an appraising way. "You look well today."

She
nearly snorted. She full well knew she was flushed, most likely with wisps of
hair flying around from her headlong flight down the steps. It was tempting to
return his bland compliment, but he truly was looking well. A man with such a
dissolute reputation shouldn't look
so... well.
He had the physique
of a horseman, with broad
shoulders and a narrow waist leading to solid thighs encased in buff breeches.
Realizing that her gaze had wandered to his breeches Jack felt herself blush.
When she looked back to his face he smiled knowingly at her and she wanted to
throw something at him all over again. Instead she took a deep breath and said,
"Perhaps you would like to take a walk in the garden?" If she
couldn't convince her father about the perfidy of this match then the next best
course of action was to convince Harrington.

Upon
Miss Walters' invitation to walk in the garden Gideon looked to her father, who
shrugged tiredly and nodded his consent. Offering the girl his arm she had
looked at it like a snake, then after a deep breath had taken it without
comment. At this point he was a bit put off by the Walters family. It wasn't
like he was a pariah! Most young women would be
beyond
delighted at being offered marriage to an earl regardless of
the reason. Once outside in the back gardens Miss Walters towed him down a
path. Their destination became clear as she slowed at the sight of a stone
bench under the shade of an old oak. The view included an arbor and a bed of
roses still dormant for the winter.

Stopping
in front of the bench Gideon took both of her hands in his own. Not the easiest
thing since she seemed disinclined to surrender them or to turn to look at him.
Frustrated by her obstinance Gideon did something he hadn't expected to and
dropped to one knee in front of her. "Miss Walters, would you give me the
pleasure of being my wife?"

She
began tugging to get him to release her hands. "No."

At
her flat denial Gideon did release her hands and rose back to his feet.
"No?"

Miss
Walters brushed some dead leaves off the bench before seating herself and
carefully arranging her skirts. "No, I don't think we need to marry at all.
I understand that a public engagement may be necessary, but after a suitable
period I can beg off."

Gideon
remained standing since her voluminous skirts left little room for a companion
on the bench. "That is not acceptable. Honor dictates we marry, otherwise
your reputation, and most likely that of your family, will be ruined."

She
raised her chin to address him directly. "No."

"No?"

She
seemed absorbed in smoothing her skirts again. "Simply that. No."

Gideon
held his breath for a moment. It wouldn't do to lose his temper. Just because
neither of them wanted this match didn't mean that either of them was to blame.
Miss Walters turned her head away from him to look at the arbor, her chin
tilted at a defiant angle.

"What
do you expect me to do? Propriety demands --"

She
whipped her gaze back to him, her green eyes like chips of emerald. "To
hell with propriety! I wasn't planning to marry at all, much less..." she
waved her hand at him, from his Hessian boots to his barely tamed hair,
"you.
Life as a spinster due to my
'reputation' would be a far happier life than one where I am married to
you."

He
stepped closer, crowding her with his height and bulk. "As though I would
be getting the superior end of the bargain?"

She
huffed. "Undoubtedly! At least you won't have to worry about me planning
assignations at social events."

"Bloody
hell, woman! Not just stubborn, but a harpy as well?" Gideon threw his
arms out in exasperation.
"This marriage is
getting better by leaps and bounds."

"Stating
facts makes me a harpy?"

"Facts?
You do not know me madam. If you were a man and questioned my honor thus-"

She
poked a finger toward him. "You don't know
me
and-"

"Zounds,
woman!" he exploded out. "Will I ever be able to finish a sentence in
your presence?"

Miss
Walters opened her mouth to reply and then shut it closed again. She went back
to staring at the arbor as though the vine-wrapped structure were the ultimate
source of their problems.

Gideon
straightened his cuffs. "If we are to get on you cannot constantly contradict
me."

This
time she looked at him as though he had sprouted another head but her lips
remained firmly sealed.

"It
wouldn't do to have a countess who cannot conduct herself appropriately,"
he added.

That
seemed to unglue her lips. "No one is asking you to!"

"This
is not a negotiation! We are getting married and you need to resign yourself to
that!"

This
caused her to surge from the bench. She placed her fists on her hips and
narrowed her eyes again. "Even if I
do
agree to marry you I will not become a simpering mouse and you will need to
resign yourself to that!"

Realizing
that it was best to quit the field before he did something hideous, like
throttling his new fiancée, Gideon sketched a stiff bow. "Good day,
madam." As he walked away he could hear her irritated huff and something
that sounded suspiciously like "bloody bastard." Stopping by her
father's study briefly to ensure that the announcement would be in the
morning's paper, Gideon took his leave of the Walters' home.

For
the first time in her life Jack retreated to her bedroom, threw herself across
the bed, and wept like her best friend had died. All of this trouble because of
her love of Greek? It was unfair! There seemed to be no escaping the engagement.
But
perhaps she could still avoid marrying him.
If only Sabre and George were here they would help her come up with a plan. She
wiped her tears and went to her writing desk.

My
dearest Haberdashers,

I
send you both a copy of this letter as I desperately need you here with me now.
It seems that I am to marry soon. Yes, it is rather sudden. My betrothed is
Gideon Wolfe, Earl of Harrington. Although I would be against the match myself,
my family seems in favor of it. Father seems resolute, if you can imagine that.
My mother is over the moon of course, and also sure that my elevation to
countess will assure Sam making a good match. Meanwhile Sam, softhearted and
dare I say softheaded girl that she is, has been trying to convince me that it
could be a love match. Oh, how much I need you at this time! Sabre, you could
help me to set and stay on the right course. George, you could help me see what
all my options are. I have only seen two - rejection of Harrington which will
lead to my ruin, or acceptance of his suit which will chain me eternally to
what seems an overbearing, arrogant, uncompromising man. What am I to do?
Fulfill my duty to my family to marry him? Or follow the best course for myself
and reject him? I desperately need your counsel.

Together
forever,

Jack

For
the next three days everywhere Gideon went someone wanted to congratulate him
on his engagement. At his club, at Tattersall's, even at Gentleman Jackson's.
It was enough to make him consider retreating to one of his country manors. And
while it was difficult enough receiving the felicitations with grace, the
comments... the comments would be his undoing. "Charming gel,” said the
Marquess of Bath. "All that is demure and graceful." Then the
diminutive Baron Hastings with his almost worshipful praises, admitting that
he'd been too intimidated by her to ask her to dance. It was all Gideon could
do to not shout at the man, "Then you marry her!" It was as though
none of them had even met the same woman he had. Sensual and attractive, yes,
but she was possessed with the tongue and humors of an asp.

On
the night of that third day he knew that he was to see her. They were both
invited to the Wittier soiree and it would be their first event as an
officially engaged couple. Gideon spent extra time dressing for the event,
partially because he wanted to look his best and partially because every extra
minute spent on preparation was another minute where his travel was delayed.
Then he became annoyed as this was the second time he was avoiding
dealing with what he was now calling "the
Walters problem." His valet was tying his cravat for the second time when
he heard footsteps from the hall, his butler Dibbs followed by another,
familiar set.

"Announcing
his grace, my lord," Dibbs intoned from the doorway.

"Hullo,
Giddy," said the duke as he entered and flopped down on the lounge chair
in Gideon's dressing room.

"What
are you doing out slumming, Quince?"

"Slumming?
Indeed not. With the announcement of your engagement you became as respectable
as any earl might hope to be. Although I am concerned that this marriage
disease might be catching."

"Worry
not, Quince, you will marry precisely the perfect woman at precisely the
perfect time. Your perfection is part of your charm."

"Yes,
I think thirty is the perfect age to marry. That means I have at least another
two and a half years of freedom."

"By
your theory I am marrying two years early? It feels a great deal earlier than
that."

"That's
part of why I came to see you, old boy. There is talk afoot, what with your
engagement being so sudden. It would do for you to at least hint at a sudden
tendre
for this girl."

"Who
is to say that we haven't formed a
tendre?
I don't remember talking to you about it."

Quince
fixed him with a droll stare. "Unlike the others I actually know you quite
well. When you introduced me to her you were furious and, if I'm not mistaken,
she was in shock. Now I come here tonight to intercept you and end up cooling
my heels in your library for an hour while you fiddle with your cravat."

"You
were downstairs? Dibbs didn't inform me."

"I
told him not to bother since you are usually quite punctual and I wanted to
catch you on your way out. I then found myself staring at your family portraits
until I began to fancy I knew them all quite intimately. But the point of this
being that you aren't acting like yourself and it won't be long before others
notice that as well."