With His Ring (Brides of Bath Book 2)

by Cheryl Bolen

  He thought on how keenly the vile William Jefferson had lusted after the girl last season. Because Jefferson was possessed of wealth—something Glee indicated she would like in a husband—Gregory's stomach turned at the thought of Jefferson defiling Glee's innocence. Though purported to be shopping for a wife, Jefferson had little regard for the female sex. He bragged about his liaisons with married women, he left his mistresses with no settlement, and he took perverse pleasure in deflowering virgins. That he fancied whores meant he was likely disease ridden. Worst of all was that business in London year before last. The man would never do for Glee. He'll get Glee over my dead body, Gregory vowed. He spurred ahead even faster, cursing under his breath.

  Something else had robbed Gregory of sleep the night before: Glee's bizarre proposal. Why in heaven's name had he turned her down? Wasn't her plan exactly what he needed? A wife—and his fortune—both on his twenty-fifth birthday? A wife who would not really be a wife. He would be able to keep his mistress, cavort with his bachelor friends, and would not have to dance attendance on his youthful bride. A perfect solution to his dilemma.

  Then why had he not accepted her offer? His initial reaction to her bold proposal had been to reject it immediately. For as long as he could remember, he had vowed to never marry, never to sire children. Then once he had firmly rejected Glee, other reasons for denying her came to mind. He hated like hell standing in the way of the happiness she deserved with another man. With himself as her husband, she would never be able to secure her dreams.

  Her announcement that she would settle for a loveless marriage to another, though, put the situation in an entirely different light. At least if she married Gregory, Glee would be under the protection of a man who valued her—who had for most of his life. If he let her get away, she might throw herself away on the beast William Jefferson. And that was completely unacceptable.

  Beset by his disturbing thoughts, Gregory absently turned his sprinting mount back toward Hornsby Manor. Just beyond the wood, he saw Glee circling the park. An unfamiliar nervousness squirmed in his belly. He dismounted and, leading his bay behind him, covered the spread of winter-bleached grass that separated him from Glee.

  When she looked up and smiled at him, his stomach once again behaved in a most uncharacteristic manner. She did not look like a girl, but a woman. A beautiful woman ripe for matrimony. A vision in white. Unaccountably, his gaze riveted to her expanse of alabaster white breasts that dipped into the soft ivory muslin of her gown. Then his eyes traveled up her slender neck to her pretty face and magnificent hair the color of cinnamon. For a sliver of a second, the man in him took over, and he almost forgot the ravishing creature was George's little sister.

  But his serious side showed its rare face, immediately squelching his own manly desires. She is George's little sister. A lady and a virgin. Such thoughts only made him realize he could not allow Glee to fall into the clutches of a man like Jefferson.

  "You're out early this morning," she said by way of a greeting.

  "I was going to say the same to you." Now that he was beside her, he realized from her eyes that she had not slept. He fell into step beside her, the manor house to their backs. "I take it you slept no better than I."

  Her eyes widened. "How did you know I didn't sleep?"

  "It was the same with me," he admitted. "May I hope I was not the cause of your wakefulness?"

  She stopped and put fists to waist, looking up at him with flashing eyes. "Of course you were, you odious man." Lifting her chin haughtily, she strolled forward. "An idiot could see how good it would be for both of us if you were to marry me."

  "While it might be good for me, I fail to see how the marriage would be advantageous to you—other than the money, of course."

  "I told you, I'm tired of being a spinster. I hate being buried at Hornsby Manor. I crave a home of my own—preferably in Bath—and the freedom to do as I please." She stopped and gazed up at him. "I vow, if you don't marry me, Blanks, I shall marry the first man who offers."

  What if that man was William Jefferson? Gregory cleared his throat. "We can't have that." Their flaring eyes met and held. His stomach was most unsteady. "What of your prince on the white horse?"

  She turned and glanced at the horse trotting behind them, tethered to Blank's right hand. "Bays suit me just fine."

  He silently winced. "I've been around you long enough to know that you wished for a love match."

  "Fie!" she said. "Love matches are nothing more than childish dreams. Real marriage is about two people who like each other as we do. At least. . .I’ve always been beastly fond of you, Blanks.” Her lashes lifted, lips pursed in query.

  “I’m very fond of you, too.”

  “Good, for liking each other is the most important component of marriage. I also believe marriage is a business arrangement of sorts between two adults of the same class, and it’s vital they respect one another's independence. "

  They entered the wood along the same path they traveled when on horseback. He proffered his crooked arm, and they trod on under the canopy of barren branches. No words passed between them the first five minutes, then Glee broadsided him with a startling question. "Why do you not desire children of your own?"

  It took him several seconds to formulate an answer. He had never told anyone the truth. Fear of losing a beloved wife on childbed seemed a weakness, and he had spent his life carefully chiseling himself into a man who had no weaknesses. No Achilles heels. "Why must I have a reason?" he asked.

  They had now entered the glen and walked in the direction of the pond as if its shimmering water were calling them. The wind had gotten stronger, rippling the water and tossing Glee's hair errantly about her face.

  She squeezed his arm. "I'm sorry. It was a personal question I had no right to ask."

  But she must be troubled by his aversion to fathering children. He had known she would want the little rascals. He had been so caught up in trying to respond to her question, he had been unaware of the darkening skies. As seemingly gradual as a man's hair turns gray, the clouds had turned a menacing black. The air was heavy with mist. He could not deny that a rainstorm was imminent. The problem was they would never be able to make it back to Hornsby before the clouds burst.

  Then he remembered the folly where he and George had played as youngsters. It was atop the knoll on the other side of the pond. He turned to Glee and spoke with urgency. "Come, let's make it to the folly before the rain comes."

  Hand in hand, they began to sprint across the barren land, past the pond and up the knoll to the folly. It looked like a round Greek temple. Ionic columns ringed it to form an outer wall that was not really a wall. At least its domed roof would keep them dry.

  With rain now dropping in a staccato rhythm, they began to run. By the time they ducked into its dryness, the rain was falling in buckets. Thunder cracked, and lightning flashed off in the distance.

  He could see that Glee was shivering, and though she put up a brave front, he knew she was frightened. He draped his arm around her. She moved as close as she could to him without touching.

  He glanced at a low stone bench in the middle of the covered structure. "Let's go sit on the bench," he said. "It looks as if we could be here for quite some time."

  They sat down, and she looked up at him. "It doesn't look as if you'll be able to return to Bath today. I hope that doesn't terribly disappoint you."

  It would be difficult spending one more night sitting across the whist table from Glee, knowing she was a lady and George's little sister, and he could never assuage his lustful needs with her.

  "How could I begrudge anything which keeps me in George's company longer? I have missed him greatly, to be sure."

  Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself as the great whooping winds swept moist air all around them. "I didn't think it would rain today," she said with disbelief.

  The relentless pounding of rain was so loud he was surprised he had heard her soft voice. "So you didn't dres
s appropriately," he said with a smile, putting his arm around her and pulling her into his embrace. He had known she was small, but he was totally unprepared for how delicate she actually felt. He felt rather as if her were squeezing a raw egg. He was afraid he would crush her.

  She looked up at him. The rain clung to her long lashes, making them darker than normal—like her wet hair.

  "Do you remember that day when we were children and we found refuge from a wretched storm here?" she asked.

  He gave a little laugh. "If I recall correctly, we were here for hours."

  "You recall correctly," she said, her face lifting into a smile. "I thought you were terribly gallant."

  He gave her puzzled look. "Why?"

  "Because you had insisted that George not bar me from the folly. My brother was going through one of those stages where he was always saying no girls allowed. You said I wasn't a real girl. I was a sister, and that was something altogether different."

  Gregory threw his head back and laughed. "There is no doubt now. You are every inch the girl."

  She looked up at him, a serious look on her face. "Not a girl, Blanks. A woman."

  Good lord, did she have any idea how seductive she could be?

  He swallowed hard. "Yes, you are that." He must think of a way to change the direction of his thoughts. "So tell me, when is your sister due to return from the Continent?"

  "Her last post indicated they would be in Rome several more weeks, then return by way of Paris, where they would stay for a few more weeks. Then they will return to England for the birth of their first child."

  "She is. . .increasing? I did not know."

  "She and Thomas are ecstatic. George wants the babe born here at Hornsby, but Thomas says it's to be born at Winston Hall."

  Ecstatic. In the normal course of things, a first-born child brought great joy to a loving couple. He knew Glee would desire a child—no matter what she said. He was the one who was not normal. He was the one who could never marry.

  He thought of the wealthy Thomas Moreland and of how deeply he loved Glee's sister, Felicity. What would the man do if he were to lose his beloved wife on childbed? "Are the women in your family good breeders?"

  "Oh, yes. Mama did not die in childbed. In fact, Papa said he could scarcely keep her down during her confinement. Unfortunately, she was not a good rider. She died from a fall from my father's horse."

  "So that explains why you were so terrified of horses when you were small."

  She nodded. "You know, Blanks, you have something with me you won't have with other women."

  The little minx was devilishly determined. "And what is that?" His eyes sparkled with mirth as he watched the obstinate girl.

  "History. I cannot remember a time when I didn't know you. I remember when you first came to Hornsby. George had written us so much about you and your athletic prowess. He was most enamored of you. So when our family finally made your acquaintance, I thought you were a dashing Lancelot."

  "How disappointed you must have been."

  "Not at all. I used to wish you were my brother, instead of George because you were always so very kind to me."

  "I daresay that was because I had no sisters of my own. Having a little sister was a pleasant novelty."

  There was a far-away sound in her voice when she spoke. "Yes, we did used to pretend I was your little sister." Then she turned to him. "I don't think of you at all as a brother anymore."

  His stomach clinched. "I wonder if Felicity's babe will be a boy or girl."

  "Of course, they are hoping for a son, but I think it would be fun if they had a daughter. Then she and Georgette could be the best of cousins. More like sisters, really."

  "I have to say I never pictured George with a little girl, but I've never seen a more besotted father."

  Glee thought of how a child of his own would soften Blanks, too. He didn't yet know how good a father he could be.

  But she did.

  Instead of passing, the storm strengthened. The fierce rains gave no sign of letting up. Thunder crashed and lightning bolted all around them. Though she was damp and miserable physically, a contented warmth spread throughout her insides. Sitting within the circle of Blanks's protective embrace, she felt invincible. Comfortable. Happy.

  With no discernable changing in the sun, she was not able to judge how long they had sat there in the center of the folly, surrounded by menacing weather, but it had now been several hours. She wondered if George knew she had gone outdoors. Would he be worried about her?

  Her eyelids grew heavy and her head dropped to Blanks' chest. His hold around her tightened. Though she was not asleep, she decided to pretend to be for nothing had ever felt as wonderful as sitting here so close to Blanks.

  Within a few moments, his breathing changed, and his head nestled next to hers. He had indeed gone to sleep. That he felt that comfortable with her despite the chill wind which cut into them and the rampage of wretched weather that swirled around them told her he, too, was comfortable with her.

  Why could he not see that they were so very good together? She found his refusal to marry her admirable. His own principals kept him from marrying, even if he would lose a sizeable fortune. That he would not waver from his resolve was oddly satisfying. He felt strongly about avoiding marriage and fatherhood and was not easily led from his resolution. How could she not respect such a man?

  While he slept so utterly close to her, the rain abated. The dark skies moved to the south, the thunder and lightning along with them. George was sure to come looking for her now.

  Which gave her a wicked idea.

  So gently as not to wake Blanks, she untied her hair and spread it wildly about her. Then she lowered the bodice of her gown until the top of her pink nipple showed.

  Now she would wait for her brother to find them.

  Chapter 5

  She saw the top of George's blond head as he climbed the knoll toward them, and she quickly turned her face away. With scorched cheeks, she softly wound one arm behind Blanks and settled the other on his sizable shoulder. He stirred, at first resting one possessive hand at her waist.

  She had to act with haste. She began to plant soft kisses on his mahogany hair, his rugged cheek, then his mouth.

  "What the deuce?" Blanks mumbled. He grabbed her by the waist and, by leaning back and studying her with a puzzled look, lengthened the distance between their upper torsos. She solemnly watched, her cheeks hot, as Blanks's shocked glance fell on her exposed breast.

  At the very same instant George called his greetings to them.

  That was her signal to make a great scene for the sake of her brother. Her glance swung to her brother as she shrieked and in great, exaggerated sweeps crossed her arms in front of her to hide her breasts, each hand hugging the opposite arm.

  George mounted the steps to the folly. She gazed up at him, her cheeks still scarlet. He glanced from her to Blanks. There wasn't so much as an inch separating Blanks from her as they sat on the cold stone bench. "Blanks. . ." George trailed. "She's my sister, for God's sake."

  Blanks shot her a hard stare then glanced back at her brother. Strangely, he made no effort to defend himself.

  Like an actress on center stage, she turned her back to both of them and gathered up the bodice of her moist gown to cover her breasts. Then she turned back to look remorsefully at her brother.

  His flaring eyes were on Blanks. "My sister's a virgin. A mere babe where such matters are concerned."

  There was no sign of Blanks's perpetual smile, only grim acceptance of his fate. "I sincerely beg your pardon," he said in a contrite voice. "It's only that Miss Pembroke has done me the goodness of consenting to be my wife." His angry eyes shifted back to Glee.

  Anger still flashed in George's eyes as his gaze settled on Blanks. "See me in the library when you return." Then he spun on his muddied boots and stormed from the folly.

  Gregory watched until George was out of his vision. Without facing Glee, he spoke. "So you'v
e succeeded in trapping me."

  Her voice was soft, pleading. "Please don't be angry, Blanks. I did it for you. I knew you'd never relent. You'd lose your fortune and come to regret that you had spurned marriage."

  "So you did it for me," he mocked bitterly. "Why is it meddling women always think they know what's best for men? They always believe they can change us."

  She faced him defiantly. "I'm not going to say I'm sorry."

  "So now my best friend is to believe I'm using his baby sister. A fine kettle of fish you've put me in." He had an overwhelming desire to wring her graceful little neck.

  Miss Glee Pembroke had made her bed, and he would see to it that she lie in it. No love match. No lovemaking. No children. How was she going to like that? He got to his feet.

  She scurried to catch up with him as he left the folly, and as she silently fell into step beside him, two of her steps to every one of his.

  When they got to the thicket, he spoke to her. "If I'm to be burdened with you for a wife, you're to understand the rules."

  "What rules?" she asked in a voice breathless from trying to keep up with his hurried pace.

  He slowed. "First, it's to be a marriage in name only. You will not share my bed. We will not have children." He looked down on her. The afternoon sun highlighted her emerald eyes. Her cheeks hot, she gazed up at him and cleared her throat. "Does that mean I'm free to take lovers?"

  Rage swept through him. "It does not." The very idea set his blood to boiling. But how could he expect to keep his mistress and not allow Glee to enjoy other men? Especially when he had no plans to exercise his conjugal rights. "For the first year we'll make every effort to assure others the marriage is a love match. Most of all, my brother is to be convinced. If he were to suspect I married only to collect my inheritance, he would undoubtedly challenge me in court."

  "And my brother?"

  "I shall attempt to convince him I've fallen in love with you. George would not relish his sister being a pawn in a ploy to get my inheritance."

  They trod silently along through the muddy mire. Filled with anger, first at Glee then at himself for not exposing Glee's scheme, Gregory pondered his unwelcome predicament. He would have to make the best of it. After all, now his inheritance would be secure. He thought of all the reasons Glee had cited to encourage the marriage. There were worse fates. Yet this was not the fate he had strived for all these years. Damn Glee.