by Sarah Winn
She opened her mouth and then closed it. Apparently she'd run out of arguments. Good. He regretted being so hard on her, but she had to learn what life was really all about. Money. The wealthy and the very poor could blather on about love, but to people like Pru and himself marriage was their only chance to survive.
Finally she muttered, “You don't know he'll offer for me.”
Amused by her childish attempt to avoid the obvious, Neil chuckled. “Just be sure your hair is properly groomed this afternoon. Gads! I wish you had something to wear besides dreary black.”
Malvern turned the key to Weathersby's bell and waited tensely. He was not looking forward to facing his deceitful, former friend, but told himself he would remain calm no matter what happened.
Weathersby opened the door. “Please step into the parlor,” he said with a formal gesture toward the room.
Malvern marched to the nearest chair and sat stiffly, keeping his hat and gloves on one knee. He'd promised himself he would not lose his temper but just the sight of this traitor set his blood boiling. “You've undoubtedly surmised why I am here.”
Neil sat across from him with a grave demeanor. “I think it best if you state your purpose.”
At least the bastard was hiding the glee he must be feeling. One of his cheeky grins would surely send Malvern's control up the chimney. “In light of last night's events at the Metropolitan Hotel, I feel obliged to ask for your sister's hand in marriage.”
Neil nodded. “As her closest male relative, I give my consent. However, there is no dowry.”
Malvern waved his hand impatiently. “I didn't expect there would be. To avoid further scandal, I will make her the Countess of Malvern and provide for her for the rest of her days, but she must sign an agreement to protect all estate properties.”
Weathersby frowned at Malvern for several moments before saying, “I know you are angry with me at the moment, but I hope you will come to realize I did this for your good as well as Pru's.”
Malvern jumped to his feet, sending his hat and gloves flying in different directions. He took a step toward Neil before forcing himself to stop. “You betrayed our friendship.”
Weathersby quickly rose and stepped behind his chair. “I—we— You need a wife.”
Failing to control the volume of his voice, Malvern fairly shouted, “I am perfectly capable of finding one on my own.”
“Are you? All your talk about waiting to be sure you'd sown all your wild oats—isn't that just an excuse to avoid the old leg shackle? With Pru for a wife you can relax. Your mother will no longer be nagging you to marry, and all the mothers of unwed daughters will stop stalking you. You'll be free.”
“Free?” Malvern pumped his fists in impotent rage. “You bloody idiot, I'll be married!”
Hearing loud voices in the parlor, Prudence feared violence was erupting. She rushed to the room as fast as her heavy skirt would allow. Intent on stopping any mayhem, she called out, “No, you don't have to marry me. I'll go away.”
The two men turned toward her, Neil with a look of horror, the earl with a sneer. “And where will you go?” Malvern asked.
“I—I'll—” Where would she go? If the story of her indiscretion spread as Neil said it would, Aunt Agatha certainly would not welcome her, and no respectable family would hire her as a governess. She'd have to throw herself on Uncle Oscar's questionably mercy. She looked at Neil in desperation.
He shook his head mournfully. “Every door will be closed to you.”
“And I'll be judged a chip off my father's philandering block,” Malvern added. “This clever trap of your brother's has caught us both quite neatly.”
She turned toward him in surprise. “Trap?”
“Come now, Miss Crump. Surely it has occurred to you that your brother leaving us alone in a private room and returning at just the right moment with witnesses was due to something more than bad luck.”
Had her own brother lured her into this coil on purpose? “Neil?”
He raised his hands defensively. “I did hope something might develop between you two—I promised Mother I'd see you properly situated.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “I knew you just said it to make Mother feel better. I didn't expect you to—to— What a horrid situation.”
Malvern grimaced, making his nostrils flare. “My sentiments exactly, Miss Crump. But the jaws of the trap are sprung and we are well and truly snared. There is nothing to do but make the best of it.”
She glanced back and forth as her senses reeled. What a fool she had been. This arrogant aristocrat cared nothing for her. Last night he'd merely been trifling in a most ungentlemanly manner, and Neil had apparently left her with him fully expecting such behavior. She couldn't decide which man shocked her the most.
The earl began to speak as though he were ordering minions about. “You may spend this evening packing your belongings and finishing your recriminations with your brother. My coach will call for you in the morning and move you to my mother's house, as I do not care to put this address in The Times’ announcement of our engagement.
“When Mother is ready, you and she will travel to Malvern Manor. As soon as the banns are completed we'll be married at the village church. The ceremony will be private because you're in mourning.
“After the ceremony, I shall expect you to willingly meet your obligations to furnish me with an heir. In fact, I think an heir and a spare will be best, since I've found being an only child burdensome. The only other demand I'll make of you is to conduct yourself in a manner befitting a countess.”
Prudence stared at him in shock. He hadn't even asked her to marry him. He was just assuming she would, that she had no other choice. She opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought of his shoddy treatment, but then closed it as she realized she really didn't have another choice.
Apparently remembering his role as her protector, Neil asked heatedly, “And what demands can Prudence make of you, my lord?”
Malvern looked at her while answering Neil. “She can demand I supply her all the physical comforts the Countess of Malvern might reasonably expect while she resides at one of my country estates. I have not yet decided which one. And she can demand I treat her respectfully whenever we are in public together. Otherwise, I shall lead my own life as I see fit, expecting no interference from her.”
He paused, as though expecting her to reply. What could she say? He nodded curtly as though he had fully expected her capitulation and turned to leave.
Prudence noticed his top hat lying on the floor in front of her. “Don't forget your hat,” she muttered through clenched teeth.
His regal posture melted as he stooped and gathered his gloves. When he leaned toward his hat, she resisted the temptation to kick it out of his reach only by reminding herself this man would soon control her life.
He left, closing the front door with a firm snap, the decisive act of a confident man who had just accomplished his purpose. Prudence stared at the spot where she'd last seen him and murmured, “He wants a marriage of convenience.”
Neil rushed to her side. He placed an arm around her shoulders and squeezed gently. “I know you're upset now, but this is all for the best. Someday you'll thank me for this, Pruddy.”
Anger over his deception caused her to glare up at him. “I'm to be a countess. Stop calling me Pruddy.”
Shaking off his arm, she started toward her bedroom. “Get my trunk from storage, please.”
In her room, she began to sort through her clothing. The scene in the parlor played over and over in her mind. She couldn't believe how Lord Malvern had changed. Last night he had been a charming prince, but today he was a haughty tyrant issuing ultimatums. His accusations against Neil showed how easily the arrogant man could blame others for his own shortcomings. Neil deserved a share of the blame, but Malvern's own actions had led to his entrapment. If he had behaved as a gentleman—or if she had been a proper lady—
She sighed in misery. Truly,
she was more responsible for what had happened than Neil. Should she refuse to marry the earl? Marrying him would prevent scandal from further blackening his family name, but it would also greatly improve her standing in the world. It seemed unjust to benefit materially from her own incorrect behavior. Of course, she would be married to a man who cared nothing for her. Perhaps that would be her punishment.
Opening the drawer where her unmentionables were, Prudence idly fingered the lace on a chemise. Too bad her mother couldn't have lived to see this marriage. It had been her fondest dream for Prudence to return to the social strata she had forsaken. After being told there was no dowry, her mother had wept in despair, but Prudence had dreamed of someday finding a man who would want her just for herself.
Foolish dream. Her mother had loved Prudence's father so much she'd gone against the wishes of her family to marry him. To what end? Her mother had withered away in bitterness over the way her husband had failed to provide for her after his death. While he had lived, their love had seemed so joyous, but what had it really signified? Perhaps Prudence would be better off in a marriage of convenience.
Fortunately, the earl planned to spend little time with her. She could live in the country, which she preferred, and there would be children to love. She had considered becoming a governess—this situation wasn't too different—except she would have to bear the children as well as care for them.
The thought of submitting to the cold-eyed earl to create those children caused her stomach to knot in apprehension.
Then she remembered the previous evening. His kisses and caresses had sent her into a near swoon. Would his touch continue to thrill her when she knew he cared nothing for her?
But submitting would make her a countess with a home of her own. People, even people she didn't know, would respect her title. Prudence had never dreamed of possessing such power. Of course, her husband would have the real power. She had better show him from the start that his haughty nobility did not intimidate her.
Malvern gestured for the two footmen to follow him and climbed the stairs to Weathersby's rooms. At first, he hadn't intended to call for Prudence personally, but the more he had thought about it, the more he had worried the servants might get the timing wrong. Furthermore, since his mother was going out of her way to help, he owed her the courtesy of a proper introduction to his betrothed.
Betrothed. The word made his jaw clench. The thought of his imminent marriage gave him a strong urge to catch the first packet to France. But the idea did have merit. Even though Weathersby's suggestion of this yesterday had sent him into a rage, today Malvern had to admit there could be benefits. No longer would he be plagued by the constant matchmaking of his mother and her friends. He would be able to socialize with his peers more freely, something he needed to do to gain influence in the House of Lords. Best of all he'd have a lovely little wife tucked away in the country and could visit her whenever he felt like it.
His father had married early and been too hot blooded to live under the constraints of monogamy. His death at the hands of a jealous husband had turned Malvern's mother into a disappointed harpy. Malvern had hoped to escape a similar fate by avoiding marriage for as long as possible. Now it seemed he had stumbled into a viable alternative, marrying a little nobody who would be grateful to him for saving her from complete ruin and, therefore, not demand fidelity.
Weathersby promptly opened the door.
After a curt nod, Malvern asked, “Is she ready?”
“Prudence is in the parlor.”
Glancing through the doorway, Malvern saw part of her black skirt. Then he noticed the small trunk and single hand valise standing in the hallway. “Is this all of her luggage?” he asked in surprise.
Weathersby nodded.
He gestured for the footmen to take the luggage and walked into the parlor. She sat with her head down and her hands demurely folded in her lap. When she looked up at him, however, her eyes held a determined gleam and her chin a firm set.
“I didn't expect you to be ready so quickly,” he said.
“You didn't give an exact time, and I didn't want to keep the coachman waiting.” She stood and smoothed black gloves onto her hands.
Weathersby, who had remained just outside the parlor doorway, spoke with unnatural cheerfulness. “Pru's always been prompt. Most unusual for a woman.”
Prudence moved toward the hallway. For a moment, Malvern thought she intended to brush past her brother without a word. Then she stopped and stared at him with a strange mix of emotions on her face.
Weathersby gave a little hangdog smile. “Aren't you going to give me a goodbye hug, sister?” He opened his arms.
With a sound almost like a sob, she rushed to him, much to Malvern's disgust.
As Weathersby embraced her, he said, “This will be for the best. You'll see.”
Finally she pulled away and lightly patted his arm. “Whatever you did, I know you were thinking of my welfare.”
“May I come to your wedding?”
She looked to Malvern for the answer and he nodded. It would look odd if her nearest male relative did not attend.
After the footman handed her into the coach, Prudence saw Lord Malvern, still standing on the curb, check his pocket watch. “Tell Dobson to take the long way, perhaps a turn through the park,” he said to the footman before entering the coach himself.
“Is something wrong?” she asked as he settled across from her.
“No, just don't want to arrive at Mother's too early.”
Prudence couldn't resist opening the decorative watch pinned to her jacket label. As she expected, it was not quite eleven.
Lord Malvern smiled. “Early for Mother is any time before noon.”
“I suppose she'll see my arrival as an imposition no matter what the time.”
He assumed a studious expression, as though he was carefully considering his words. Finally, he said, “My mother is disappointed she didn't have a hand in choosing my wife, but she is eager for me to marry, and has agreed to teach you how to be a proper countess. Be a willing pupil, and you'll get on well with her.”
Oh, peachy! Now she had two aristocrats to please.
Apparently her expression mirrored her displeasure, for the earl raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. “You should be grateful. There is more to being a countess than riding about in a crested coach, and Mother is disrupting all her plans to help you.”
“Probably afraid I'll disgrace the title,” Prudence muttered.
The earl's hearing was evidently acute. “As a matter of fact, you're exactly right. And, I must admit, I have a few qualms as well.”
“Is that why you intend to hide me away in the country?” she asked, hoping to dent his pompousness with a bit of shame.
He was totally unaffected. “Actually, no. I had planned to delay marriage until I felt ready to live up to the stifling restrictions the institution places on a man. Since I can no longer wait, you living in the country will allow me to maintain most of my freedom while you'll be spared London's gossip.”
Trying to look as haughty as he did, Prudence said, “How considerate, my lord.”
Her sarcasm didn't faze him. “Would you rather be gossip's victim? Just say the word and I'll return you to your brother's care. I've done my duty by proposing. I can't be blamed if you refuse.”
Prudence bowed her head in defeat. She couldn't refuse him, and he knew it. Seeking to avoid his hard-eyed stare, she glanced out the window at the rich greenery of the park.
She had to accept this situation and angering the earl would only win her more of his disdain. But how could she get along with this confusing stranger? Night before last, he had been all charm. Since then he had been stiff-necked and hard-eyed.
After sighing deeply, she turned back to him, determined to set one nagging doubt to rest. “May I ask a question?”
He shrugged. “Of course.”
“Why did you behave as you did after dinner the other night?”
“Not to me.”
He gave his shoulders a little hitch. “I'm a man who appreciates attractive women.”
“Any attractive woman?”
“Pretty much.”
Anger at his hedonistic attitude swept through her. “So it was just lust.”
The corners of his mouth twisted in a condescending smile. “Never underestimate lust, my dear. It can make certain aspects of our union quite pleasant.”
The man was without shame. “I refuse to be used as a—a...”
His smile turned into a grimace. “Don't play the indignant maiden with me. You were eager for my kisses. Try to be honest about that, at least.”
Heat flooded her cheeks, and she looked down at her clenched hands in despair. He was right, and she now knew he wouldn't hesitate to throw her wanton behavior in her face.
Lord Malvern cleared his throat. “Prudence, we are both on edge. Everything has happened so suddenly that we haven't had a chance to grow accustomed to each other and certainly not to the idea of marrying. When I awoke this morning, the first thing I thought of was saddling a fast horse and getting out of town.”
The picture of the great Earl of Malvern fleeing from her in terror eased her embarrassment enough so she dared to look up at him.
His expression relaxed, showing a trace of the man who had been her escort to the theater. “Neither of us is happy about this marriage, but we can make a bad situation better or worse. In my world, marriage is often more of a business arrangement than a love match. We grow up expecting this and even if we aren't overjoyed with the final choice for our mate, we treat the person with consideration and respect.”
Would he ever respect a woman he thought had schemed to trap him into marriage? “I truly did not know Neil was hoping to force me upon you,” she said while watching his expression hopefully.
His lips thinned and he stared at her as if he were searching her soul. “I hope you didn't, but at the moment it is impossible for me to decide the truth of the matter. Nevertheless, you need not fear I will abuse you.”