The Wrong Mr. Wright

by Patricia Bray

  Her breath caught in her throat as he turned the full force of his gaze on her. His eyes were open wide in apparent innocence.

  “Come with me,” he said. “Come with me and I will give you the world. I will show you the Continent, and when we have tired of Europe, we can see Greece and India and even Egypt if you dare. You will be the most famous female adventuress since Lady Stanhope.”

  “As your mistress?” Diana’s voice was cold.

  “No, as my wife,” George said. He slipped off the bench and knelt down on the grass at her feet. “I know I do not deserve you, but I beg you to forgive me. For I love you. I could not stay away from you before, and I cannot leave England now unless you will come with me.”

  “My parents would never agree,” Diana said.

  “They have never understood you,” George said. “They wish you to live a conventional life. My only wish is to make you happy.”

  There was truth in what he said. Her parents loved her dearly, but she knew that they did not understand her curiosity and her longing to explore more of the world than could be found in a country village.

  “Come with me, and in time they will reconcile themselves to the match. Just name the day, and if we leave at dawn, we can be in Bristol by nightfall. From there we can board a ship to wherever you please and have the captain marry us.”

  He was offering her everything she had always wanted. A life filled with adventure and a chance to explore the world. Four months ago she would have leapt at this chance, but now she hesitated.

  “What of your brother?”

  “What of him? Marrying him would be a mistake. He would make you miserable, a slave to duty, just as he is himself.”

  There was something in the expression of his eyes that made her blood run cold. And in that instant she realized that her decision was already made and, indeed, had been made some time ago.

  “You must hate him very much,” she said.

  George blinked at her.

  “Stand up,” Diana said. “You look like a fool.”

  He rose to his feet, brushing stray blades of grass from the knees of his pantaloons.

  “You may have tricked me once, but I am wiser now,” Diana said. “Even if your offer was sincere, I still would not go with you.”

  His lips curled in scorn. “He will have no patience with your foolish whims,” he said.

  She was shocked at how easily he cast aside the mask of the lovesick suitor. To think that she had almost allowed herself to be taken in by him. Again. Stephen had been right to warn her about his brother. But then she had been blind, in so many ways.

  “It is true that Stephen and I are quite different in temperament,” Diana said. “But since the engagement is a sham, your concern is unwarranted.”

  “A sham?”

  “A pretext,” Diana said. She rose to her feet and began to pace, wishing to put some distance between her and the source of her aggravation.

  “When your brother heard of my predicament, he came to offer himself in marriage,” Diana explained. “But since I had no wish to marry, we agreed to this ruse to restore my reputation. An engagement, for the remainder of the season. Once I return to Kent in the fall, I am to cry off, setting us both free.”

  George shook his head. “You are lying.”

  “Why would I lie? Ask your brother. Ask my father. Ask Tony Dunne if you like. They all know of the scheme.”

  “Why wasn’t my mother told? When she wrote me in Belgium…” His voice trailed off as he realized what he had revealed.

  “She summoned you home at once. Hoping your return would put a spoke in our engagement. Stephen suspected as much,” Diana said.

  “I could still ruin you, you know,” George said. “All I have to do is hold you here until someone arrives who can bear witness to our tryst. I could then go to Stephen and tell him we have been meeting secretly for weeks now.”

  His threatening words were belied by the slump to his shoulders as he realized that all of his scheming had come to naught. From deep inside she found a scrap of pity for him. Poor George, so blinded by his envy and hate that he could not realize that Stephen was not the enemy. George was destroying himself with his actions, and nothing Stephen could do would change that.

  “And why would he believe you over me? You lost his trust years ago. And if you wish to hurt your brother, you will have to find another target. In a few days I will leave London, and this sham engagement will be at an end,” she said, willing him to believe her. George could still stir up trouble if he had a mind, and she did not want to see Stephen hurt.

  “I think you have underestimated my brother’s feelings for you,” George said. “He was willing to buy me off to ensure your happiness.”

  “And you have misjudged his patience,” Diana retorted. “I think it would be wise of you to keep to your plan and leave London. His forbearance will not last forever.”

  To her relief he did not argue further, but, instead, with a mocking bow, he left. She watched him depart and then sank down on the bench in weariness, emotionally drained by their encounter.

  In her mind she kept turning over George’s final words. He had hinted that Stephen held deep feelings for her, but even if it was true, George was the last person that Stephen was likely to confide in. Perhaps George had simply been toying with her, raising false hopes that he knew would be crushed.

  There was only one man who could answer her questions, and the hours until their next meeting seemed to stretch into infinity.

  Monday morning dawned, and as the first rays of sunlight streamed through her windows, Diana opened her eyes. She had spent a restless night, turning over in her mind a dozen scenarios of what she would say to Lord Endicott and what he might say to her in reply. She knew what she wanted. She had realized that yesterday, and in a way she owed thanks to the despicable George Wright, for he had forced her to acknowledge the truth of her own heart.

  But what did Stephen want? What caused him to be so friendly at one moment and then so distant and forbidding at the next? He had kissed her and then had practically refused to speak with her. Did he regret their embrace? Did he resent her for bringing out his unconventional side? Was it only her wishful thinking that made her think there was true affection between them?

  Her mind was filled with doubts, and she knew suddenly that she could not sit idly at home, waiting for him to call upon her. She would go to him and demand that he speak with her. This resolution made, she rose from her bed and summoned her maid to help her dress.

  She left the house before either of her parents had ventured below stairs, and arrived in Grosvenor Square as the church bells began to toll the hour of eight. As the hackney coach drew up before his residence, Diana felt a sudden surge of doubt. What if Lord Endicott was not home? What if he was still sleeping?

  What if he said no to her, her mind added. Then what would she do?

  It was time to act, before her courage deserted her entirely. Squaring her shoulders, she descended from the carriage, followed by her maid, Jenna, who had refused to let her leave the house alone.

  Lifting her skirts, she climbed the steep steps that led to the door which remained closed. She lifted the heavy brass knocker and banged it thrice.

  She waited a minute, but there was no response. The footman assigned to watch the door must be busy elsewhere, she realized, for only a madwoman would call at such an hour.

  She banged the knocker again, harder this time. Then she heard the scrape of metal as the inner bolts were unlocked. The door swung open only a few inches.

  “Tradesmen to the rear, you dolt,” a male voice said.

  “I am not a tradesman,” Diana said.

  The door opened wide, revealing a footman who eyed her insolently. She did not recognize him, but then, she had been to Grosvenor Square on only a handful of occasions.

  “Leave now, and be grateful I don’t call the watch on you,” he said, his gaze fixed on Diana’s chest. “My master has no need fo
r a light-skirt, particularly not one so foolish as to come calling at his own home in broad daylight.”

  “As his fiancée, I am grateful to hear that,” Diana replied. “You may tell Lord Endicott that Miss Somerville has called and wishes to speak with him. At once.”

  The footman’s jaw dropped open, and as she advanced, he automatically stepped aside, holding the door open for her and Jenna to advance.

  “You will show me where I can wait,” Diana said. “And after you have given my message to Lord Endicott, you will be kind enough to show my maid, Jenna, to the kitchen, where she can have a cup of tea while she waits.”

  The footman’s eyes narrowed as he tried to make sense of the situation. Then, perhaps deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, he nodded.

  “Yes, miss,” he said. “If you will follow me?”

  He led her into a small parlor, which she recognized from her earlier visits. Then he disappeared, along with Jenna. The door had scarcely closed behind him when it opened again, revealing the figure of Lord Endicott.

  He wore only a simple linen shirt tucked into a pair of buckskin trousers and a pair of well-worn slippers upon his feet. She realized that she had interrupted his toilette, and rather than waiting, he had rushed down to see her.

  “Diana,” he said, crossing the room and then taking her hands in his. “What is wrong? What brings you here, alone, at such an hour?”

  The concern in his eyes warmed her heart and bolstered her courage which had been flagging.

  “I had to see you,” Diana said. “I could not wait until this afternoon. You promised me we would talk, and now is the time.”

  He relinquished her hands and then ran his right hand through his hair, his face reflecting his confusion. “You could not wait till this afternoon?”

  “No,” she said. “I am not willing to wait another hour.”

  “Very well,” he said, gesturing to the nearby sofa. “Please have a seat and we will talk.”

  She sat down on the chintz sofa, and he took a seat in the chair opposite her.

  Diana took a deep breath. She had practiced this speech a dozen times on the carriage ride over here, but now that she was here, the carefully rehearsed words flew out of her head. What could she say to make him understand how she felt?

  “George came to see me yesterday,” she began.

  “I’m sorry,” Stephen said. “I warned him not to bother you. I will—”

  “I don’t need you to do anything about George,” Diana interrupted him. “I am quite capable of dealing with George myself. What I need from you is to listen.”

  Stephen nodded. “I am listening.”

  “George told me that he was leaving England and resuming his travels. He wanted me to go with him, as his wife. To lead the life of adventure that I have always dreamed of.”

  Stephen’s whole body tensed, and she could see the muscles in his throat convulse.

  “And?” he prompted.

  “And I told him no,” Diana said.

  Stephen’s body sagged almost imperceptibly in relief.

  “You were wise not to trust him,” he told her.

  “Oh, I think he was sincere enough. In his own way.”

  Last night, as she had waited vainly for sleep to come, she had given the matter much thought. George’s restlessness and his impatience for the conventions of society echoed her own nature, and she felt certain that his desire to travel was, indeed, sincere. And his offer of marriage was no doubt genuine. Not simply because George wished to steal her from his brother, proving once and for all who was the better man. No doubt George had also counted on Stephen’s affection for her to ensure that he would provide his younger brother with a generous allowance that would allow them both to live well during their travels.

  “Then, why did you refuse him?”

  “Because I do not want to marry George. He is nothing but a spoiled boy, and we would make each other miserable within a fortnight,” Diana said.

  “So that is the end of it, then,” Stephen said.

  “George made me realize something about myself. Something that I have known for weeks now,” Diana confessed. She looked quickly at his face and then down at her hands, which were nervously twining themselves in her lap.

  “I know what I want. I do not want to marry George, nor do I wish to be a famous adventuress. Not if it means leaving you. I know we entered this engagement under false pretenses, but things have changed. I want to be your bride in truth, if you will have me.”

  “Are you certain this is what you want?” His voice was low, and his face was full of doubts.

  “Of course,” she said tartly. “Why else would I have come here at such an uncivilized hour? I love you, you fool.”

  Her words brought a faint smile to his face, and she felt her nervousness begin to ease.

  “Even though I am thoroughly conventional and predictable and not at all likely to take you exploring along the Amazonian rivers?”

  “Of course. Because you are also honorable and kind, and you understand me even if you do not always agree with me. And no other man has made me feel the way you do when you kiss me,” Diana said, her cheeks flushing.

  Stephen rose to his feet, and taking her hands in his, he raised her up so they stood together. “I love you, too, Diana,” he said. “I have wanted to say that for weeks now, ever since the night of our engagement ball. But I feared driving you away, for I knew you would never settle for a dull stick like myself.”

  “You value yourself too little,” Diana said.

  “Then, it is good that I will have you around to remind me of my worth,” he answered.

  “I cannot change who I am,” Diana said, needing her own reassurance. “Are you truly ready to be married to a madcap eccentric? A woman who inveigles you to ride in hot air balloons and who knows what other folly? We will be the talk of London. Again.”

  “I do not want you to change,” Stephen said. “And as for gossip, as long as they are speaking about the two of us, I do not care what they have to say. Let us show them what a love match is meant to be.”

  His words banished the last of the worries from her heart, and she felt her face break into a broad smile. Greatly daring, she reached up with one hand and caressed the back of his head and then pressed her lips to his.

  His lips were soft and tender upon her own. Then they parted, and the sweetness turned to fire as his tongue traced her lips and then dipped inside to explore her mouth. He gathered her to him, pressing her soft curves against every inch of his hard body. She felt herself becoming light-headed, and only his strong hold kept her from sinking to the ground.

  “We can be married as soon as the banns are called,” he said, when finally he lifted his head so they could breathe.

  “Yes,” Diana said, with the small part of her brain that was still capable of rational thought. “I think that would be for the best.”

  “As do I,” Stephen replied, and then he bent down and claimed her lips again.

  Epilogue

  Stephen Frederick Wright, Viscount Endicott, took a sip of champagne from a crystal flute and then smiled as he heard the sound of Diana’s laughter. His eyes searched the throng that crowded into the ballroom until he spotted her dark head among a clump of well-wishers standing near the entranceway. He, himself, had spent the last hour accepting the congratulations from friends and acquaintances who viewed this wedding as simply the long-expected conclusion to their four-month engagement that had lasted nearly all the season.

  Only Diana’s family and his closest friends knew the truth, that this wedding had been hastily arranged in the three weeks since Diana had proposed to him. Calling on him in the early hours of the morning, invading his house just as she had invaded every other facet of his life. It was only fitting, he supposed, that she had been the one to propose marriage. Left to his own devices, it might have taken him another few weeks to screw up his courage. Weeks that would have been wasted, while now he could h
ave Diana by his side. As his wife.

  The wedding itself had gone off without a hitch. His brother, George, had sent a note with his congratulations and then given them the best gift of all by staying away on the appointed day. The rift between the two brothers would be slow to heal, but there was hope.

  And now he had Diana, and his life, which had been set in a predictable course, was now filled with endless possibilities. It was exhilarating, as was the thought that soon his frustration would be at an end, and he could teach Diana the joy of lovemaking.

  “You are looking rather tense for a man who has just received everything he ever wanted,” Tony Dunne said, coming to stand next to him.

  “I was wondering how long I had to wait before I threw this lot out into the streets and had Diana to myself,” Stephen replied.

  Tony grinned at him. “If you recall, when Elizabeth and I were married, we made our escape after the first hour of the reception. I advise you to do the same. There’ll be no getting rid of this crowd, not as long as the servants keep pouring champagne and your chef keeps supplying delicacies.”

  Stephen nodded. “A good plan. We have to be on our way soon enough. The carriage will take us to Dover, and from there we will board a ship.”

  “You are taking Diana to Italy?”

  “Yes,” Stephen said. “Venice to start, and then Florence and Rome. If the climate suits us, we may winter there and return in the spring.”

  “Or we may go to Greece and then on to Egypt,” Diana said, linking her arm in his. “If I can convince Stephen to extend our trip.”

  “We are not exploring the Nile,” Stephen said. “We are not going looking for crocodiles. I will not take you camel trekking to see the Pyramids.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “See? He is already weakening,” she said to Tony Dunne.

  Stephen bit his lips, repressing a smile.

  “I will make an adventurer of you yet,” Diana told him.

  “I think you already have,” Stephen replied.

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