by Ava Stone
She was innocent, honest, refreshing, truly an original. She wasn’t like any lady of his acquaintance. Cordie could take on the world with a strength not found in most men. Phoebe with her effervescent personality was often the center of attention. And Marina… A stab of pain pierced his heart at the thought of Marina. She’d been a master manipulator, playing with Greg’s affection for her from the very beginning. The longer she was gone, the clearer he saw her. But Bella…well, Bella wasn’t like any of them. He bit back a smile at the thought of the green paint on her cheek and how very easily she blushed. He intentionally pushed the memory of kissing her from his mind because the last thing he needed was a stiff cock again, especially with his brother watching him so closely across the coach.
“All right.” Tristan nodded. “You’re under her spell. But don’t you think it would have been wise to court her a bit before offering for her? What if the spell wears off and you find you don’t suit? I haven’t seen you be so reckless in many years, Greg.”
Indeed, it had been quite a while since anyone had called Greg reckless. Of course, there was no way really to explain his apparent hastiness away. So Greg changed tactics instead. “Worried we’ll out-bicker you and Phoebe?” He shook his head. “I hardly think that’s possible and look how in love the two of you are.”
A ghost of a smile settled on his brother’s lips and he conceded the point with a shrug. “We actually argue less than we did when she was betrothed to Russell.”
“Yes, well, now you both have an outlet for your pent up sexual energy.”
“That obvious, was it?” Tristan asked.
Actually, Tristan and Phoebe had hidden their feelings for each other rather well before they ran off to elope in Scotland, but saying as much would hardly aid Greg’s argument now. And he didn’t want to discuss his situation with Bella, not if it could be avoided. So he shrugged instead of answering. “Cordie says Russ’s new bride is a sweet girl.”
“And apparently he’s head over heels in love with her,” Tristan agreed. “So perhaps leopards can change their spots, after all.”
“Or perhaps it just takes finding the right girl…”
“And you think Lady Arabella is the right girl for you?” Tristan speared Greg with one more of his perceptive looks.
Greg swallowed a bit uncomfortably. God, he hoped his brother couldn’t see through him or all of this would have been for naught. “I wouldn’t have asked for her hand if I didn’t.”
“Oh!” Tristan gestured out the window. “There’s your future brother now.”
And Gillingham wasn’t even weaving. Perhaps he’d somehow sobered enough to listen to reason. Miracles were possible from time to time, weren’t they?
Greg opened the door to the coach and quickly stepped from the conveyance. “Gillingham,” he called after the man.
Bella’s brother turned on his heel and frowned into the darkness. “Who’s there?”
Greg increased his pace until he was almost upon the man. “I would like a word with you.”
The young baron blinked in Greg’s direction. “You’re the one marrying my sister.”
“Yes.” Greg nodded, relieved the dolt knew who he was. “And it’s actually Bella that I’d like to discuss with you.”
“With me?” Gillingham hiccupped. “I have no say over her. You should talk to my father or His Grace.”
And briefly Greg wondered if either of those men held any sway over Gillingham. If they did, he wondered why the devil they didn’t use it. “Do you have any idea how your actions have hurt Bella?”
“I haven’t hurt my sister.” He sounded belligerent all of a sudden, like an unhappy adolescent. “I’ve protected them. Both of them.”
“When you make a spectacle out of yourself in public you most certainly do hurt her,” Greg told him. “I’ve seen the expression on her face when you crash into refreshment tables or cast up your accounts upon—”
“That was you.”Gillingham’s eyes widened suddenly. “I thought you looked familiar.”
“Aye, that was me,” Greg grumbled. “So I know firsthand what I’m talking about. Whatever is going on with you, whatever demons you’re fighting, Gillingham…Get yourself together.”
The ne’er-do-well scowled.
“How can Bella show her face in public when you’re forever blackening your name?” Greg continued, reasonably. “Your actions reflect upon her, or haven’t you figured that out yet?”
“I don’t have to answer to you.” Gillingham turned and started back down Floral Street.
“Gillingham!” Greg called after the fool.
“Bugger off, Avery,” he called back over his shoulder.
Less than a moment later, Tristan came up behind Greg and clapped a hand to his back. “Well, that went well.”
Greg shook his head. “Anytime the man doesn’t get sick across my wardrobe, it could have gone worse. I probably should consider myself fortunate.”
Tristan agreed with a nod of his head. “So when you and Lady Arabella marry, you’ll hie off to Rufford Hall, and you won’t have to worry about Gillingham. He can make a fool of himself every night, but she won’t be around to see it. ”
Except Bella wouldn’t be coming to Nottinghamshire and there would be no escape for her from her social nightmare of a brother when all of this was over.
Chapter 12
The Clayworth butler looked a little surprised when Bella’s footman handed him an easel and canvas. Bella held onto her small valise that contained her paints and brushes, however.
“Lady Clayworth said,” she began to explain at the man’s confused expression.
But the butler cut her off. “Yes, yes, I’m to set you up in her ladyship’s sitting room.” Then he nodded toward the footman. Some silent communication, though Bella didn’t spend a moment thinking about what it might mean.
“Has Lord Avery arrived already?” Bella asked.
The butler struggled slightly as he tried to close the door with his hands quite full. “Not yet, my lady.” Then he juggled her rolled up canvas and managed to gesture toward the corridor. “Lady Clayworth is in the green parlor, if you’d like to wait with her until his lordship arrives.”
“Oh, that would be lovely,” she said.
“Very well,” the servant continued. “I’ll see that your things are set up for you in the meantime.”
“Thank you.” Bella smiled at him, placing her valise on the marble floor before promptly making her way down the corridor the butler had indicated.
Before she reached the parlor, however, feminine voices flowed into the corridor…
“No, no. I hope Greg’s very happy, and she does seem like a nice girl—”
Bella stopped where she stood. They were talking about Greg and her?
“—I’m just surprised, is all. He complained – loudly – every time I asked him to attend anything, Cordie. He didn’t need a wife and I should mind my own affairs. If I had a farthing for every time he—”
“Brendan never had any intention of marrying again.” Lady Clayworth’s voice. “What men intend for themselves and what they actually end up doing—”
“I watched Clayworth chase you. What do you mean he never had any intention of marrying again?”
A sigh filtered out into the corridor. “His marriage to Marina was far from a happy one, Phoeb. After he was widowed, he thought to avoid such an entanglement ever again.”
“Until he met you.”
“Something like that,” Lady Clayworth said enigmatically. “In any event, I imagine the same is true for Gregory. He was quite set in his ways until Lady Arabella breezed into his life. But that smile he wore last night, the way he looks at her…well, I have every bit of confidence that they will enjoy a long and happy life together.”
Oh, Bella’s heart twisted in her chest, part of her wishing more than a bit that Lady Clayworth’s words were true, that the smile on Greg’s lips really did mean something. She’d stayed awake for hours the
night before, reliving his kiss every time she closed her eyes. It was a miracle she got any sleep at all.
“I hope you’re right, and I do feel badly for the lady considering the scene her brother caused last night. I can’t imagine Matthew ever doing anything remotely like that. ”
“Olivia’s ball will certainly be the talk all of today.”
Though not for the best of reasons. Goodness. What was to be done about Elliott? Bella still didn’t have a solution for that particular problem.
A maid started down the corridor, and Bella’s heart lodged in her throat. The last thing she wanted to be caught doing was eavesdropping on Lady Clayworth’s conversation. So she cleared her throat and stepped into the parlor. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Oh, heavens no!” Cordie Clayworth assured her from her chair, smiling brightly. “Actually, Phoebe and I were just talking about your betrothal. So please come and join us.”
“Yes, please,” Mrs. Avery added and patted the place next to her on the settee. “I hate we didn’t get a chance to speak more last night.”
Bella truly didn’t have a choice in the matter, so she crossed the room and took the seat beside Greg’s sister-in-law, feeling rather uncomfortable about the whole thing. It seemed, and perhaps she was wrong, but it seemed as though Mrs. Avery was watching her very closely, and Bella was afraid she was coming up short in the lady’s estimation. Perhaps Mrs. Avery detected that bit of oddness about her that Grandfather had mentioned. She shouldn’t let the woman’s opinion of her matter in the least, she wasn’t, after all, really going to marry Greg, but it bothered her just the same anyway.
“Arabella is a talented artist,” Cordie informed her sister-in-law.
And while it was sweet of the countess to say as much, she’d never laid eyes on anything Bella had worked on. It was very clearly the lady’s loyalty shining through her words, and that loyalty was something Bella truly appreciated, especially right in that moment. “You are kind.”
Cordie beamed in response. “In fact, she is going to paint Gregory’s portrait. Isn’t that lovely?”
“Indeed,” Mrs. Avery agreed. “What a wonderful talent to possess.” She smiled, not unkindly, at Bella. Perhaps she’d misread the lady’s scrutiny a moment ago. Mrs. Avery did seem sincere in her expression.
“Lissy says you’re a wonderful horsewoman,” Bella said.
“Raised in a saddle.” Mrs. Avery’s smile widened. “Do you ride?”
“Some,” Bella replied. Though she didn’t imagine anyone would call her an excellent horsewoman. That was more Prissa’s domain than hers.
“Well, we shall have to go for a ride in the park this week, then,” Mrs. Avery continued. “I am sorry I didn’t get a chance to congratulate you last night, Lady Arabella. I truly am so happy for you and Greg. He is my absolute favorite brother-in-law, you know?”
“I will not repeat that to Brendan,” Cordie laughed. “As he’s always been so fond of you, Phoebe.”
Mrs. Avery did blush a bit, looking slightly embarrassed all of a sudden. “You know I adore your husband, Cordie. But Gregory…well, Tristan and I never would have found our way to each other if not for him. And that is a debt neither of us can ever repay.” Then she turned her attention on Bella once more. “I have spent the Season thus far failing in each and every one of my matchmaking attempts on his behalf.”
Greg had mentioned that the previous evening right before he’d admitted that he never planned to marry. Bella forced a smile to her face, unsure how she was supposed to respond to such a statement from her would-be sister-in-law.
“It’s too bad you didn’t know Arabella before now, then,” Cordie said, preventing Bella from having to come up with some sort of response to that statement. “She could have saved you so much time and effort.”
“Indeed.” Mrs. Avery nodded. “Love at first sight is what he told Tristan. And while that doesn’t sound like the Gregory I know in the least, it is very romantic, isn’t it?”
It would be romantic if it was true. And Bella found herself wishing once more that it was true. Throughout the last season, she hadn’t spent any time thinking about what sort of man she would marry, if she ever married; but since meeting Greg, since he’d come to her rescue and joined her in this subterfuge, since that kiss…If she ever did marry, it would be rather difficult for any fellow to ever measure up to him.
“Once upon a time, Greg was quite different than the man you know, Phoebe.”
Goodness. What had he been like once upon a time?
“Besides” Cordie continued with a shrug, “everyone responds to falling in love differently, I think. In fact, when one finds their perfect match, any old assumptions about what one has always wanted don’t necessarily mean anything anymore.” Then she nodded toward Bella. “Back before I married Clayworth, I had my heart set on an entirely different fellow. My husband’s complete opposite, in fact. The two of them truly are as different as night and day.”
“Oh?” Bella asked softly, not at all certain what else to say to that. She didn’t know either lady terribly well, not really, even if Cordie Clayworth had come to her aid. And to have them sharing such confidences with her, did make her the slightest bit uncomfortable, especially as she couldn’t be completely honest about her own situation, not with Mrs. Avery in the parlor.
“Luckily, I saw the error in my judgment,” Cordie continued. “With that said, the other fellow is still a very dear friend.”
Mrs. Avery made an irritated sound. “Speaking of that fellow…You should have heard Tristan and Gregory last night, complaining about him. They always wait until you’re not around and when I’m outnumbered before they start such discussions.”
Haversham? That must be the fellow Mrs. Avery meant as she’d said almost the same thing the night before. Cordie Clayworth had once upon a time had her heart set on the wicked Marquess of Haversham? Goodness! Bella thought all proper ladies avoided him like the veritable plague, especially if they valued their own good name.
Cordie shrugged. “I somehow think Marc prefers it that way.”
“For people to disparage him on a regular basis?”
The countess nodded. “It never seems to bother him, at least.”
“Ah, here you are.” Greg stood just inside the threshold along with Lady Staveley at his side.
Oh! Bella’s heart sped up at the sight of him—his dark brown jacket, emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders, his buff trousers unable to hide his muscular thighs, and his uncomplicated cravat that spoke of a man who cared nothing about fashion.
Greg’s green gaze landed on her, and her breath caught in her throat. Goodness, he was so devastatingly handsome. And when he cast her the smallest smile like they shared a secret, warmth washed over her, as did the memory of their kiss.
“Caroline!” Cordie pushed out of her chair to greet her new arrivals. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“Me as well.” Lady Staveley nodded in agreement. “I wish we’d had a chance to speak last night.”
“Well, actually,” Mrs. Avery began, pressing back to her feet, “I am to meet Mama to go shopping this afternoon. She will be in a temper if I’m late again.”
“Please don’t rush away on my account,” Lady Staveley said, her brow furrowing just so.
But Mrs. Avery shook her head. “Oh, never think such a thing. You know how my mother is.”
“Indeed.” Lady Staveley agreed with a nod. “Do pass on my love to Evelyn when you see her.”
Mrs. Avery started from the room and let Greg press a kiss to her cheek. “I assume all went well this morning?” she asked him, staring quite pointedly up at him.
What was that about, Bella wondered?
“Perfectly well,” Greg said with a nod, then he turned his attention back to Bella. “Higgins said everything is set up in the sitting room if you’re ready.”
Everything. Her paints and canvas. “Yes, yes,” she said, lifting off the settee as well.
&
nbsp; Then Mrs. Avery wished everyone a happy rest of their day before quitting the room.
Greg reached his hand out to Bella, and said to his sister, “And we will leave the two of you to gossip ‘til your hearts content.”
Cordie laughed. “And just what makes you so certain we’re going to gossip, Gregory Avery?”
“Only the fact that I’ve known you your whole life.”
“Well, there is that,” his sister conceded. Then she grinned once more at Bella. “Make certain you get his superior smug look down just perfectly when you paint him. It won’t look like him otherwise.”
Superior and smug? Bella placed her hand in Greg’s and warmth rushed through her. “I think you must see him differently than I do.”
“See?” Greg did then cast his sister an actual smug expression. “Is it any wonder I prefer Bella’s company to anyone else’s?”
His sister laughed again. “Well, I can’t wait to see the final portrait when it’s done.”
“You shall be the first,” Bella began, but when Greg cleared his throat, she amended, “or the second to see it once it’s finished.”
Then she let Greg tug her into the corridor, and she glanced up at him. Such kind green eyes, a perfect aristocratic nose, and the barest hint of a dimple near his left cheek. She couldn’t wait to capture him on her canvas.
As soon as Greg and Bella left the parlor, Cordie grinned at Caroline, Viscountess Staveley. “Do join me.” She gestured to the nearby settee. “I’ll ring for tea.”
The viscountess, a famed matchmaker and very dear friend, smiled in return as she settled into a spot. “For someone taking a break from society, Cordie, you have been quite busy.”
Nothing passed Caroline’s notice. “Indeed. Julian keeps me on my toes,” she agreed as she pulled the bellpull.