The Wedding Bargain

by Victoria Alexander

  “Return Greek treasures to Greece.” Peters' voice was matter-of-fact, as though he dealt with such things every day.

  “We don't have a minute to lose.” Pandora glared. Why weren't they listening?

  “That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.” Laurie slanted her a pointed glance. “Almost.”

  Max nodded. “Now that I can understand what Peters is saying, it does sound absurd.”

  “Regardless,” she clenched her fists in frustration, “until we know exactly what this is all about we don't have a moment to waste.”

  Laurie shrugged. “Although I have heard of stranger things I suppose.”

  “Stranger than this?” Max scoffed. “Obviously Lady Harold left the message herself. People who are kidnapped rarely leave their own messages.”

  “Excellent point,” Laurie murmured.

  “Would you two cease debating how foolish this sounds?” Pandora's voice rose. “Harry and Grace, my parents, two people I care very much for, are not to be found. Frankly, I don't give a bloody damn if they've been carried off by natives from the jungles of South America or ancient Egyptian mummies come to life or--”

  “They have Miss Weatherly as well,” Peters said.

  “Miss Weatherly?” Shock rang in Max's voice.

  “My Miss Weatherly?” Laurie's tone mirrored his friend's

  Peters cast him a quelling glance. “The Miss Weatherly.”

  “That's quite enough. I, for one, am going after them. Immediately.” She turned and started toward the door.

  “Pandora!” Max's voice cracked behind her. He grabbed her arm and whipped her around to face him. “You're not going anywhere.”

  “Someone has to do something and apparently it's not you.” She glared up at him.

  “Don't be a fool. Of course we're going to do something,” he said, the line of his jaw set. “We're just trying to determine what. Until we can make some sense of this all, it's stupid to go running out into the night, in a storm, I might add, without any idea of where we're going or why.”

  “Don't you understand?” Her breath came hard and fast, fueled by her fear. “We're talking about Harry and Grace and Cynthia. The three people who mean the most to me in the world. If anything were to happen to them…” The back of her throat ached with unshed tears and her voice broke. “You and Laurie keep saying this doesn't make any sense. You may be right. But right now, I don't care. I just want to find them. Don't you see how dangerous it all is? Anyone mad enough to hatch a plot like this wouldn't hesitate to…” She couldn't bring herself to say the words.

  Max directed his comment to Laurie, but his gaze never left hers. “What do you think, Laurie? I suspect the docks might be a place to start.”

  Relief swept through her, and for a moment she thought her knees would buckle.

  “It's as good a place as any,” Laurie said briskly. “Let's go.”

  Max released her arm and started for the door, Pandora at his side.

  “You're not coming,” Laurie said. “Max, tell her.”

  “Of course I'm coming,” she snapped.

  “If it was any other female, I'd agree with you, but,” Max sighed, “I wouldn't know how to stop her.”

  “Max, I would not put this woman in a carriage in the rain again to save my soul.” Laurie stepped closer to him and lowered his voice, but she could still hear him. “It's something about the sound of the rain on the roof and an enclosed carriage. She was at her wits end earlier--”

  “I was not!”

  “She was restless, anxious, she could not sit in one place longer than a moment. And I don't even wish to remember the noises she made--”

  “Laurie!”

  “It's difficult to believe, I know,” a serious note underlaid Laurie's voice, “but she was terrified.”

  “Pandora?” Max studied her. “Is he right?”

  “Yes, and I don't care.” She grabbed the edges of his coat and stared into his eyes. “It's ridiculous. A silly little problem--”

  “Silly little problem?” Laurie scoffed.

  “A completely irrational fear I've had all my life.” She paused, then plunged ahead. “The sound of the rain on the roof inside a closed carriage has always make me think of dirt hitting a coffin with me inside.” She shuddered.

  “You are willing to endure this, not once but twice tonight?” Max said slowly.

  “Normally I would do anything to avoid it, but tonight I don't care. I'm going with you, or,” she drew a deep breath, “I'm going on my own the moment you walk out the door.”

  “Are you certain?” His gaze searched hers.

  She swallowed hard. “Will you be with me?”

  “Every moment.” His gray eyes were as stormy as the night outside and just as dangerous.

  “Then I shall be fine,” she whispered.

  Emotion flashed through his eyes so fast she couldn't tell if it was joy or sorrow. “Good, let's be off then, Hellion.”

  “I still think it's a mist--”

  The door slammed open, cutting off Laurie's words. Wind gusted through the foyer and a wave of raindrops splattered over the floor.

  “Peters!” Harry's unmistakable bellow rang over the noise of the storm. Grace and Cynthia staggered into the foyer, clinging to each other, looking more like soaked rag dolls than anything remotely human. Peters leapt to help Harry force the door shut.

  “Mother!” Pandora flew across the room and threw her arms around Grace.

  “Dora, sweetheart.” Grace hugged her hard, then drew back and placed her palms on either side of her daughter's face. “Are you quite all right?”

  Pandora nodded and blinked hard. “I thought I might never see you again.”

  “Oh, dearest, we would never abandon you, no matter who you choose to marry. Or how.” She leaned closer to whisper into her ear. “I assume your presence here means you have not married anyone.”

  “Not yet,” she said softly.

  “Miss Weatherly.” Laurie stepped to Cynthia and swept a polished bow. “You are looking lovely tonight, as always.”

  Cynthia pushed a long strand of dripping hair away from her face, straightened her shoulders, and extended her hand in a regal manner. “Thank you, Lord Bolton.”

  Laurie took her hand and brought it to his lips as if it was not at all unusual for him to kiss the still wet hand of a drenched and dripping woman. He released her hand, straightened, and casually flicked the water off his fingertips. “Do tell me, Miss Weatherly, how you managed to escape the Greek conspirators.”

  “How?” Her expression didn't change, but unease flashed in her eyes and her gaze shot to Grace.

  “I was wondering the same thing myself.” Pandora studied her mother carefully. “How did you escape?”

  “It wasn't at all easy,” Grace murmured. “They were quite…oh, I'm not sure how to put it. Cynthia? How would you describe them?”

  “Me?” Cynthia's eyes widened. “I would say they were…um…perhaps…”

  “Vague? Elusive? Difficult to keep in sight?” Laurie raised a brow.

  “Quite.” Grace said in a lofty voice.

  It was apparent, even to Pandora, that Max and Laurie's suspicions about the kidnapping were well founded.

  “Do tell us more.” Pandora folded her arms over her chest.

  “There really isn't much to tell.” Grace waved her hand in a casual manner, as if abduction was an everyday occurrence. “Greek conspirators are, well, Greek conspirators. And not at all unlike French conspirators, although not quite as rude, or German conspirators, even if they aren't quite as organized, or Italian conspirators, whom I've always felt--”

  “What are you talking about?” Harry stared in complete confusion. “What conspirators? What Greeks? What Italians?”

  “We were led to believe you were kidnapped by Greek conspirators,” Max said mildly.

  “Kidnapped?” He snorted in disbelief. “Whatever would give you that idea? We went after Dora. Again. Didn't get fa
r, though. Blasted carriage wheel broke within the first quarter hour and we had to walk back.” He narrowed his eyes and fixed his daughter with a hard stare. “This was the last time, Dora. Marry whom you want. Run off with whomever you please. Or don't. But no more chasing after you every time we turn around to save you from yourself.”

  “You didn't need to chase me. I was perfectly fine,” Pandora said indignantly. “And I'd scarcely call once every five years every time you turn around.”

  “So, no Greek conspirators, after all, eh, Miss Weatherly?” Laurie grinned.

  “I don't believe anyone said there weren't Greek conspirators.” Cynthia wiped her wet forehead with the back of her hand. “Lord Harold simply pointed out…”

  At once the room filled with any number of accusations and excuses and denials.

  “Why would anyone, Greek or other--”

  “I really don't think five years between--”

  “You have spent entirely too much time--”

  “But, Dora, our intentions were--”

  “Quiet!” Max's voice echoed in the foyer with all the authority of a god on Olympus addressing the peasants. “While you have all been discussing conspirators, real or not, and elopements, again real or not, it strikes me that the only thing that has been accomplished to night is the earning of my eleventh point.”

  Pandora's mouth dropped open. “How, in any conceivable manner, can you consider this a point?”

  “It's quite simple. It seems that I and I alone was not involved in the various intrigues ongoing tonight, therefore it is up to me to sort them out.

  “This test was to defeat the three-headed beast that guards the gates of hell. As I look at the group before me, it's apparent the heads of the various plots, escapades, and so forth,” his gaze lingered on Pandora for barely an instant, then passed on, “are Pandora, and Cynthia in league with Lady Harold. No one can deny that all that has occurred this evening, for some of us, was indeed a taste of hell. Additionally, I was to rescue a friend from the Chair of Forgetfulness.” He nodded at Laurie. “The mistakes of the past, whether forgotten or simply hidden, have now been revealed.”

  “Brilliant, Lord Trent.” Grace applauded. “Well done.”

  “Bravo, my lord.” Cynthia beamed.

  “I always knew he could do it.” Harry grinned. “By Jove, the man will fit in with the Effingtons like he was born to it.”

  “That's only eleven.” Pandora stepped toward him. “You still have one to go.”

  His gaze met hers. “Do I?”

  “You do. The golden apples of the Hesperides. They belonged to Zeus. A gift from his wife.” She pulled a steadying breath. “A wedding gift.”

  “I know.” For a long moment he didn't say a word. “It's fortunate I still have a few days left. Golden apples, among other things, are exceedingly rare.” He pulled his gaze from hers and addressed the rest of the gathering. “And, as it has been a long evening, I shall take my leave.” He nodded to the assembly and stepped toward the door where Mrs. Barnes had magically appeared with his coat and gloves.

  He wasn't going to claim the final point?

  The realization slammed into her like a hard punch to her stomach and stole her breath. Laurie said Max already had the apples. If it weren't for the look in his eye, she'd think he was trying to be dramatic.

  Perhaps he was waiting until the final moment to pass the final test. That was it, of course. It was silly of her to think otherwise. Besides, there was only one other reason why Max wouldn't present the apples. And as much as she couldn't, she wouldn't, consider that possibility she could not put it from her mind.

  In spite of Laurie's assurances, Max didn't love her, after all.

  Chapter 24

  The Spoils of Victory

  “I wondered when you'd deign to pay me a visit.” Max sprawled in his chair before the fire in the library, his brandy glass dangling loosely from his fingers.

  “I thought I'd give you a day to think things through.” Laurie dropped into the other chair.

  “I've done nothing but think,” Max muttered.

  “I doubt that.” Laurie picked up the brandy decanter and eyed the level of the liquor. “I'd wager your servants keep refilling this too.”

  Max shrugged. “I haven't noticed.”

  Laurie poured a brandy for himself. “You look like hell.”

  “Thank you. It's always nice to know others appreciate your accomplishments. Appearing unsavory is an art.” Max rubbed the day-old growth of beard on his chin. He knew full well how disreputable his appearance had become since the night before last. He simply didn't care. “Why didn't you tell me about you and Pandora?”

  Laurie blew a resigned breath. “I don't know, really. You weren't around when it happened. When you finally regained your senses, well, the incident no longer mattered. I frankly never thought to mention it.”

  “That accounts for 1813 and all the intervening years until what, a month ago? Why didn't you tell me then? It would have been an excellent way to convince me not to pursue Pandora.”

  “If I had told you, would it have stopped you?”

  Laurie's gaze locked with his and endless seconds passed in silence. Max laughed mirthlessly. “No.”

  “I didn't think so.” Laurie took a sip of his drink. “Therefore it seemed pointless to bring it up.”

  Max swirled the brandy in his glass noting, in some part of his mind that cared about such things, that there was barely enough to coat the sides of the snifter. “Did you love her?”

  Laurie hesitated, no doubt deciding what to say. Max's shoulders tensed. “For a moment, perhaps. At the time, I thought she'd broken my heart. All she really damaged was my pride.”

  Max tossed back his last swallow of brandy in an effort to hide his relief. He held his glass out for more. Laurie obliged without comment.

  “Before I forget, this is yours.” Laurie passed him a gold chain hung with an intricate pendant.

  Max studied the finely wrought charm. “The goldsmith did an excellent job. It's exactly what I wanted.”

  “Why didn't you give it to her the other night? You could have ended the game right there and then.”

  “I suppose.” The bauble winked and glittered in the light from the fire. Max stared, mesmerized. “Earlier that evening, I was asked, by my mother of all people, if I really wished to force a woman into marriage who was so desperate to avoid it, to avoid me, she would run away. You said she was scared in the carriage?”

  “Well, yes, but--”

  “A woman desperate enough to face her fears in her attempt to escape…” He shook his head. “I couldn't get the question out of my mind and I couldn't quite face the answer. I'm not entirely sure I can even now.”

  “But you do intend to give that to her, don't you?”

  He handed the necklace back to him. “No.”

  “No?” Shock rang in Laurie's voice. “What do you mean, no? That's one of the stupidest things I've ever heard you say.”

  “Or one of the most intelligent.” Max heaved a heavy sigh. “If I present that to Pandora, I win the game and she has no choice but to marry me.”

  “I thought that was the idea.”

  “I thought it was, too.” He paused for a long moment. “If I don't, she wins.”

  “If she wins, she can pick your bride.” Laurie's voice was indignant. “And you know full well she'll pick Cynthia. My Cynthia.”

  “Miss Weatherly's under no obligation,” Max said mildly. “She's not part of the bargain and therefore is free to do exactly as she pleases.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Laurie muttered, and shook his head. “But I still don't understand any of this. You've worked for nearly a month to win this game and Pandora. Why are you stopping now, when victory is within your reach?”

  “Think about it, Laurie. I didn't really play fair, did I? My actions weren't always in the spirit of the game, as it were. More than half my points weren't earned so much as they were handed to me.�
��

  Laurie raised a brow. “How is that a problem?”

  “When we made our bargain all I wanted was a suitable wife with a bit of spirit.” Max chose his words carefully, trying to sort his feelings out for himself as much as for his friend. “Pandora was perfect. I didn't care what it took to win. In fact, I quite welcomed the challenging nature of her tests and her mind. It was all rather exhilarating and great fun. At some point, I realized I wanted--no, needed--more than her hand, I needed her heart. Her love.

  “I don't want her to marry me because she has to,” Max said harshly, “but because she wants to. Because she loves me.”

  “She does love you.”

  “Do you know that for certain?” Max narrowed his eyes. “Did she tell you? Did she say it as she was trying to get as far away from me as possible?”

  “Not in so many words,” Laurie said slowly. “But any fool can see she loves you.”

  “This fool can't. All I can see is a woman who would rather face ruin than marry me.” Max nodded at a crumpled paper on the table next to the decanter. “That's the note she left me. She said our game was, how did she put it? Oh, yes, ‘delightfully amusing,’ but now that she had seen you again, all her old feelings had been rekindled.”

  “Hardly.” Laurie snorted. “Although I don't think she detests me nearly as much now.”

  “It scarcely matters. I didn't believe anything she said about you.” He picked up the note and crushed it into a tight ball. “But Pandora also said she'd decided long ago she wouldn't marry without love, and therefore she couldn't marry me.”

  “That doesn't necessarily mean she doesn't love you…only that she doesn't know you love her.”

  “We shall see.” He tossed the note into the fireplace and it lay on the grate untouched. “She's the winner of the game. What happens now is entirely in her hands.”

  Flames licked at the edge of the paper. “You know, she never mentioned love when we each listed our requirements for a spouse. Of course, nether did I. It didn't matter at the time. I didn't realize it would be important to the Hellion of Grosvenor Square, and it certainly was not in the plans of a rake, a rogue, a scoundrel, and a beast.”