The Wedding Bargain

by Victoria Alexander

  He cleared his throat in an exaggerated manner.

  The sounds of passion remained.

  He tried it again.

  Miss Weatherly giggled. Laurie murmured something and laughed.

  “Laurie?” Max tried once more. “Miss Weatherly?”

  “It's all right, Max,” Laurie said with a grin in his voice. “You may look now.”

  Max turned. Laurie and Miss Weatherly still stood face to face, entirely too close, with their hands clasped, but at least no longer wrapped in each other's arms. And they shared the most ridiculous grins.

  “I believe I should go inside,” Miss Weatherly said, gazing at Laurie.

  “May a humble prig call on you when we return to London?” Laurie's tone was light but a serious note underlaid his words. Max stared at his best friend dumbfounded.

  “If you don't, I should be forced to call on you.”

  “Miss Weatherly!” Max said, shocked by her promise.

  “You were right, my lord, I have spent entirely too much time with Pandora.” She cast one last smile at Laurie, then turned and headed for the door.

  Laurie's gaze stayed on her until she vanished into the ballroom. Max raised a curious brow. “Do you have anything you wish to tell me?”

  “She kisses extremely well, for a woman with no experience.” A note of wonder colored Laurie's voice. “I suspect it was the enthusiasm…”

  “Laurie,” Max snapped, and his friend's gaze jerked to his. “What game are you playing?”

  “Game?” Laurie said in a bemused manner. “I'm not playing any game.”

  Max stepped closer and studied Laurie for a long moment. The expression on his face was an odd mix of confusion and awe. “Don't tell me you're in love with her?”

  “In love?” Laurie laughed. “Oh, I scarcely think…” He heaved a heartfelt sigh and raked his fingers through his hair. “I don't know.”

  “I never thought I'd say this but welcome to the club.”

  “It's one club I never particularly planned on joining,” he said wryly.

  “No man does.” Max grinned. “Membership sneaks up on you.”

  Laurie narrowed his eyes. “Does that mean…?”

  “I'm afraid it does.” Max shrugged.

  “I see.”

  “What? No protest? No lecture on how Pandora will break my heart? No speech on how my life will be ruined? On my ultimate doom?”

  Laurie shook his head. “Not now. I can't fight love.” He paused. “Have you told the Hel--Miss Effington?”

  “I had planned to tell her tonight.” Max sighed. “I thought she already knew but apparently not.”

  “Let me make sure I understand this,” Laurie said slowly. “You love the woman. But you haven't told her. And you have done everything in your power to pass these tests of hers with her entire family, and much of society as well, looking on in a manner that can't help but injure her pride publicly as well as privately. Yet you have failed to tell her of your feelings.”

  “I hadn't quite thought of it that way.” Max's heart sank, a leaden weight in the pit of his stomach. “It does sound rather unpleasant.”

  He certainly hadn't intended to make her look foolish. It was simply an unwanted result of their game. Coupled with this morning…he blew out a long breath. It was not surprising she thought his lovemaking was an underhanded way to win the game and force her into marriage.

  “So tell her you love her.”

  “No,” Max said without hesitation. “Not now.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don't know her feelings. I thought I did, but--” He shook his head.

  He'd always been able to coax a true smile from her before, but tonight he was unable to penetrate her overly pleasant, and obviously counterfeit, manner. Had his assault on her pride destroyed any affection she may have felt for him? Was it his own arrogance that now refused to allow him to admit his feelings?

  “I would prefer if you did not mention this to Miss Weatherly.”

  “Of course.” Laurie's voice was thoughtful. “I won't say a word to Cynthia.”

  “Cynthia?”

  “That's her name.” Laurie shrugged sheepishly. “I know it's quite improper but it is so deliciously wicked. And you're scarcely one to talk. You call the Hel--Miss Effington, Pandora. And she calls you--”

  “Max.”

  “Come now, my lord, how could any woman in her right mind stay angry at you?”

  The weight in his stomach increased.

  Except tonight, when she hadn't called him Max once.

  Chapter 21

  A Desperate Move

  “Well?” Pandora folded her arms over her chest and studied Laurie with a gaze that was at once apprehensive and impatient. “Will you help me or not?”

  “I'm not entirely certain,” he said thoughtfully. He stood before the fireplace in the Effington parlor, picking up and setting down assorted odds and ends that crowded the overmantel. A wicked-looking parrot perched amid the ancient objects and eyed Laurie as if he was a guardian gargoyle and not a mere bird. Laurie suspected the feathered beast would like nothing better than to sink his beak into a nice, tasty hand.

  Aside from the bird, this was a fascinating display for its chaotic variety alone and he wished he could pay it the proper attention. At the moment, it provided nothing more than a way to conceal his thoughts on her outrageous suggestion.

  “There is more than enough time left for Max to succeed, and I have to do something.” She wrung her hands in an absent, nervous gesture. “The game ends six days from today. Max still has two remaining tests. How he's going to defeat a beast with three heads, let alone find golden apples, is beyond me, but the man is wickedly clever and I have no doubt he will devise something.”

  “Probably.” Especially since Laurie had picked up Max's golden apples earlier in the day. Exquisitely wrought, the bauble was three charms in one, strung on a gold chain and in his waistcoat pocket at this very minute. He did not doubt his friend would win their game and was no longer certain that was a bad idea. He had ceased to view Pandora as a wicked man-eating vixen.

  She drew a deep breath. “If I leave London in the company of a gentleman--”

  “Or a twit, as the case may be.” He replaced the pottery.

  “Or a twit.” She shook her head and smiled, obviously amused in spite of herself. “I shall make you another proposal, Bolton. I will not call you a twit if you cease referring to me as the Hellion.”

  “But it has such a amusing ring to it,” he murmured.

  “I rather like twit, too. It has a nice feel when you say it. Somewhat resounding and to the point. I think it's the Ts.” She paused to give it extra emphasis. “Twit.”

  “That's enough, thank you. I agree.” He crossed his arms and studied her. “So, is it to be Viscount Bolton and Miss Effington, then? Although it does seem to me, given your proposal to run off together, it should be Laurie and Pandora.”

  “Fine. Whatever you want.” She waved her hand in a gesture of disregard. “As I was saying, if we leave London together and lead Max to belive we have gone to Gretna Green--”

  “Repeating the sins of the past,” he said slowly.

  “Precisely why it will work.” She nodded. “Essentially, I'm defaulting, and he'll be the winner. But if I'm married, there's no prize for him to claim. Max will realize the game is over. It will be pointless for him even to come after us.

  “I will leave a note with Peters and instructions to deliver it to Max the day after we leave. That should provide us with more than enough time. The note will say something about the last time we attempted to,” she swallowed hard, “elope, and how now that we've found each other again, all our previous feelings…” She spread her hands out, fluttering them in a helpless manner.

  Laurie stared, stunned. He never imagined he would use the word “helpless” in connection with the Hel--Pandora Effington.

  “Do you think he'll believe that?”

  “
His pride might have a bit of trouble with it, but regardless, we won't return until Max's time has expired.”

  “And if he cannot find you, he cannot earn his final points.”

  “Exactly. Well?”

  He frowned. “I do hope you take this in the spirit in which it is intended, Pandora. I don't mean any offense and my attitude overall on marriage seems to have undergone a complete change in recent days, but I have no desire to marry, well, you.”

  “That works out quite nicely, then,” she said dryly. “I have no desire to marry you, either.”

  “You don't?” Not that he was truly surprised.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “You needn't be so vehement about it,” he said under his breath.

  “Oh, come now, Laurie. Compared to the last time, what was it? A choice between you or man-eating lions, a mere ‘absolutely not’ is fairly mild.” She laughed softly. “My plan doesn't involve marriage, simply the appearance of the intention of marriage.”

  “The appearance of the intention of marriage…” In an odd sort of way he understood what she meant. Odder still, it sounded as if it could indeed work. “I can agree to that in principle, but have you considered the consequences of all this? Everyone in London is watching the contest between you and Max. Our going off together won't remain a secret for long. And we won't be accompanied by two other couples, a factor I always thought helped save you from complete ruin the last time. This plan will irreparably shatter your reputation.”

  “No doubt.” She shrugged in an offhanded manner as if it was of no consequence. “I dare-say, there are many who have long expected me to come to this end. The very least I can do is live up to their expectations. It's a fitting fate for the Hellion of Grosvenor Square, don't you agree?”

  He stared for a long moment. She certainly didn't look like a hellion now. She appeared fragile and delicate and infinitely sad. What in the hell had Max done to her? “Much of the blame for that can be placed on me. It is too late, but I am sorry.”

  “Thank you, Laurie, but you simply awarded me the title. I did my best to live up to it.” She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself as if to ward off a chill or a truth difficult to face. “It's been rather a challenge, through the years, to walk the fine line between too far and not far enough, knowing full well everyone is watching your every move, certain you were going to plunge into scandal and probably hoping for that very thing.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Can you? Can you imagine as well that regardless of what you said aloud, privately, deep down inside, you simply wanted what everyone else in the world wanted? And you were terrified at the idea you wouldn't end up with even that, because you were too busy living up to a reputation you hadn't completely earned?” Her gaze caught his. “Just punishment for your sins, I suppose.”

  “Hardly just,” he murmured, struck by a wave of recognition. She was so very much like someone he knew. Himself? Wasn't his public side far different from his private side? And the private self was buried so deep inside, even Max would be hard pressed to recognize it.

  “So, will you help me?”

  “I haven't decided. There are a number of details to discuss.” He paused. “For one thing, Max will probably kill me. Literally. With pistols at dawn, or possibly his bare hands.”

  “I doubt that. He shall probably be quite relieved,” she said, more to herself than to him.

  What on earth had happened? This was definitely not the Hellion--or rather, the Pandora--he'd bantered with in the country. It was as if her spirit was broken. Or her heart.

  He should have realized it sooner. It explained everything. Max had broken her heart just as Laurie had feared. He ignored the voice in his head that reminded him he'd been more afraid of heartbreak for Max than Pandora. But how? Max loved her. She obviously loved him. Of course, if neither had confessed their feelings…what a sorry mess this was.

  And what of Cynthia? What would her reaction be to the false elopement? As much as he suspected he cared for her and hoped she returned his feelings, she certainly didn't hesitate to do whatever she deemed necessary to assist Max. He could still feel the sting of her slap on his face as well as the equally wicked sting of humiliation. He could send her a note of explanation, but she would tell Max the truth and he would move heaven and earth to find them.

  Which was exactly what Max should do.

  “I would like to leave tonight.”

  “Pandora.” He stepped closer and stared into her lovely blue eyes, shadowed with emotion. “Are you in love with Max?”

  She pulled her gaze from his, but not before he saw a flash of pain so intense it stole his breath. “It scarcely matters at this point. You said it yourself. If Max wins our game, there are no choices. Therefore, I cannot allow him to win. Now.” She drew a steadying breath.

  “We agreed to work together. Will you help me, or not?”

  Helping her now would certainly erase any debt of honor forged by the past. He owed her as much. And Max more than deserved a taste of his own tricks, after using Laurie in such a publicly humiliating way to earn a point.

  “I cannot leave tonight.” He exhaled a long breath. “But we can be off tomorrow.”

  Her brows pulled together in concern. “That may be too late. He could earn the last two points, and…” She wrinkled her nose. “Forgive me. It's panic speaking, nothing more. It's a new sensation for me and I find it rather difficult to control. Very well. Tomorrow it is.” She caught his gaze. “You do promise not to tell Max about this?”

  “Of course,” he lied. He had twenty-four hours to come up with his own plan. If she and Max would admit their feelings to each other, the peripheral players in this game of theirs could attend to their own lives. And Laurie very much wanted to attend to his own life, particularly where it concerned the tall, willowy, and quite delectable Miss Weatherly.

  “I will arrange for a carriage then. One last thing.” He had to know all the details of her plan in order to develop his own. “Do you really think Max won't come after us?”

  “Oh, I don't think that at all. I just said it would be pointless. You see, I have no intention of traveling north to Scotland.” She smiled, the first real smile he'd seen on her since his arrival.

  “We're heading southwest. Bath is lovely this time of year.”

  “…So I think the way to resolve whatever has happened between them is to get them to work together.” Cynthia paced the width of the sitting room off Lady Harold's bedchamber. “It seems to me they've been pitted against each other for the most part except when they've been made to join forces. For example, in the tavern--”

  “Yes, Harry mentioned that little venture,” Lady Harold said grimly. “I do hope you're not thinking of anything as risky as that?”

  “Not at all. But I do have an idea.” Cynthia drew a deep breath, then plunged ahead. “I propose a kidnapping.”

  Lady Harold's eyebrows rose. “And who do you suggest we kidnap?”

  “Oh no, we're not the kidnappers. We're the victims. If Pandora believes we're in danger, she'll stop at nothing to rescue us. And Lord Trent will never allow her to come after us on her own.”

  “It could work,” Lady Harold said thoughtfully. “Obviously someone has to do something, and as soon as possible. There are only a few days left before their game ends.”

  “Tomorrow, then?”

  “Excellent.” A frown creased Lady Harold's forehead. “A few days ago, I would have wagered a great deal of money that Pandora cared very much for Lord Trent. Now I'm not entirely sure what she feels.”

  “I'm certain she loves him. Nothing else makes sense. Have you seen her act so oddly over anything before?”

  “Never.”

  “She wouldn't even speak to me just now.” Cynthia shook her head. “She simply called through the door, said she was ill, although she didn't sound at all sick, and told me to go away.”

  “Pandora is never ill.”

  “I kn
ow. Even the thought is rather unnerving.”

  “With a bit of luck, we may be able to set things right, although I never thought I would be forced to plan my own kidnapping to ensure my daughter's happiness.” She lowered her voice in a confidential manner. “What a delightful adventure in years. I did have a rather adventurous period once. It was then I met Lord Harold.”

  “Really?” The revelation was not all that surprising. Cynthia would have expected this was a woman with adventures in her past. “Does Pandora know?”

  “Good heavens, I hope not.” Lady Harold laughed. “Pandora is far too adventurous as it is without believing she is destined to carry on a family tradition.”

  “It doesn't sound particularly wise,” Cynthia murmured.

  “Now then, as for tomorrow. I think first…”

  Lady Harold discussed the particulars of their plan, but Cynthia couldn't keep her mind from drifting back to the intriguing idea of adventures. This would be her first, but would it be her last as well? Would she have further adventures to keep secret from her own daughter? A daughter blond and tall and very much like her father? Warmth flooded her at the thought of precisely who she wanted that father to be.

  And wondered if that would be her grandest adventure of all.

  Running away might well be the stupidest idea she'd ever had.

  Pandora threw another dress into the small portmanteau on her bed. Still, it was the only idea she had at the moment.

  Would the terrible pain of knowing Max didn't love her ever go away? Probably not. It had eased somewhat from the sharp, stabbing sensation of a knife in the heart to a dull, constant ache, but she suspected it would remain with her always.

  Resolve squared her shoulders. If live with it she must, live with it she would. She could bear it, for the rest of her life, if necessary.

  The rest of her life? Hah. She stepped to her wardrobe and yanked free another dress. What life? Her reputation would be in shreds and her future bleak, any possibility of happiness destroyed. Without Max's love she couldn't possibly be happy anyway.

  Not that she was happy now. When she thought about it, she realized she really hadn't been quite herself since the moment they'd first spoken. Her usual manner had vanished, replaced by some stranger with a melancholy, ill at ease, uncertain nature. And she didn't like this new Pandora one bit.