by Cheryl Bolen
That as a spurned bride she would be the laughing stock of Bath caused her no concern whatsoever. That much, she deserved. What really hurt was worrying about Blanks and the eternal emptiness which he would now be unable to escape. His perpetual quest for pleasure was merely a substitute for a meaningful, loving relationship. Her own shattered dreams and the unfulfilled love she had planned to lavish on Blanks caused her considerable pain. She physically ached from the void losing Blanks would create, a bleakness reaching deep into her soul.
Even her sister's return from the Continent to be present at her wedding had failed to bring Glee out of the doldrums. She had flinched when Felicity told her, "I've always known you were in love with Blanks."
Had Blanks, too, known Glee had misrepresented her intentions? Was she as transparent as glass?
Her sister's presence made Glee's suffering even more acute. For Felicity had the undying love of her husband and the promise of the child she now carried in her womb.
And Glee would have nothing.
As Glee sat there in the folly, the skies overhead had turned darker. Since she had no desire to be stranded there alone, she picked herself up from the bench and dusted off her skirts to return to the manor house before the rains came.
She was almost back to the house when she saw Blanks walking toward her.
"I was worried you'd be caught in the storm," he said as she came abreast of him.
A smile widened across her face. "I cannot tell you how very good it is to see you. I had begun to fear you were going to leave me stranded at the altar."
His smile reached his dark flashing eyes. "I couldn't do that to you."
No lover's murmurs could have been more welcome. "Despite your great aversion to marrying me," she said with a laugh. She looked up at him as he fell into step beside her, and she slipped her arm through his, sighing. "I promise you, Blanks, you'll not regret our marriage. We'll make a good team. A fun pair." She could not tell him her life's mission was to immerse him with her love.
"If I had to get shackled, I'm glad it's to you," he said with a laugh.
Glee was quite sure she floated all the way to the front door of the manor house.
* * *
Throughout dinner that night Glee continued to feel as if she were buoyed by clouds. She could not remember ever being so happy. Her gaze swept around the table, where everyone present was someone she loved. George and Diana. Felicity and Thomas. And Blanks. The only thing marring her complete happiness was the knowledge Blanks did not love her as George loved Diana or as Thomas loved Felicity, but that was all right. Blanks had said he would rather marry her than anyone else. That was enough for now.
She would win his lover's love one day. One day he would be happy that he married her.
After dinner, Blanks asked her to accompany him to the conservatory. They strolled down the length of the dimly lit west wing and came to the glass-enclosed room. No servant had thought to light a candle in the room.
"The moonlight will suffice," Blanks said in a low voice, taking her by the hand.
Glee's insides quivered in anticipation. Was he wishing to kiss her? Oh, but she would like that excessively. She followed him into the conservatory. Blanks was right. Moonlight bathed the room. She looked up into his face.
"I have a wedding present for you," he said in a husky whisper.
Her heart fell. 'Twas not to be a kiss, after all.
From his pocket, he pulled out a silken box that was the size of book. He opened it to reveal magnificent emeralds. There was a dazzling necklace and an emerald ring clustered with oblong diamonds.
"'Twas my mother's and her mother's before her," he whispered, offering it to her.
Glee was overwhelmed as much by the tenderness in his voice as by the generosity of the gift. Without thinking, her arms flung around his neck. "They're beautiful!"
He patted her on the back—a gesture she was certain he had never done with Carlotta.
She removed her arms from him. "I shall wear them with great pride."
A smile flashed across his face. "I want you to wear the necklace at our wedding. There, I'll place the ring on your finger."
"I'll never take it off," she whispered. She really was going to marry him, her heart's desire. She was deeply touched. She took the box. "Do you remember your mother?"
He shook his head almost angrily. "She died in childbed when I was less than a year old. The babe died with her." His eyes went cold, and the ever-present smile vanished from his face. "I'm afraid I've always held my father rather responsible for killing her."
Surely his wife's body hadn't healed from giving birth to Blanks when the man impregnated her again. What a brute! Glee gave Blanks a puzzled look. "But. . .your brother is so close to you in age. . ."
His voice chilled. "Yes, my father remarried the day his year of mourning was up." His eyes narrowed. "My step-mother delivered him another son eight months later. Jonathan and I were born twenty-eight months apart."
He held his father responsible for his mother's death! Immediately upon hearing his words, Glee understood how his mother's death must have preyed on the motherless boy throughout the years of his childhood. Was that why he abhorred marriage? Why he did not want children? Did he fear the pain of losing a wife as he had lost his mother?
He offered his arm as he began to stroll from the room. "We had best join the others, or your brother will come looking for me with a pistol."
She laughed. "Silly, it's permissible for us be alone together. We'll be husband and wife in two days."
He winced. "Must you remind me?"
At least he was now able to joke about it in front of her. That was a significant improvement. She laughed, then stood on her toes and reached up to kiss him. It was a chaste kiss, one he did not return. "Thank you for my wedding present."
* * *
Gregory had come to realize Glee's leaving Bath had allowed him to ease into his acceptance of the inevitability of their marriage. He had actually adjusted to the idea. Perhaps their marriage would be for the best. At least now his fortune was secure, and he would gladly bestow the lion's share of it on Glee. And Glee had assured him she would not interfere with his pleasures. It wouldn't really be like getting shackled. After all, they weren't going to share a bed. They would remain good friends. Nothing more.
If only Jonathan doesn't get suspicious, Gregory thought. He had written to both Sutton Hall and to Jonathan's lodgings in London to inform his brother of his upcoming wedding. It was a courtesy he did not extend to his step-mother. There was no love between her and Gregory, and only Gregory's sense of obligation kept the roof of Sutton Hall over her head. Of course, Sutton Hall would be his and Glee's once they were married. A pity Glee was too kindhearted to throw the mean-spirited woman out. He had little doubt were the tables turned, Aurora wouldn't hesitate to give him the boot.
But she was his father's widow, his brother's mother. And it wasn't as if there was not an abundance of rooms at Sutton Hall. He supposed he would always be saddled with the dreadful woman.
But he didn't have to invite her to his wedding.
To Gregory's great surprise, Jonathan showed up at Hornsby Manor late in the afternoon the day before the wedding.
"I'm honored that you've come for our wedding," Gregory said, putting an arm around his much shorter brother. "I must introduce you to my lovely Miss Pembroke." If he ever was going to be convincing of his devotion to Glee, it had better be now, Gregory thought. Jonathan must never get wind that his and Glee's marriage was to be a sham.
He found her in the library, where she was reading. She glanced at them, then stood up and came forward. Oddly, Gregory was proud of her. She looked particularly delicate in her mint green dress as she gracefully glided toward them, her hand outstretched, a smile on her lovely face.
"You must be Jonathan," she said to his brother. "Even though you and Bl. . .Gregory are just half-brothers, I would know you anywhere. You have his chin, as well as his
coloring. I cannot tell you how happy I am that you’ve come to our wedding. Come, Jonathan," she said, "let's sit and talk. We've so much news to share with you."
They sat on the facing brocaded sofas before the fire, and Glee rang for tea.
"You'll have to come visit us after the wedding," she said to Jonathan. "Blanks—forgive me for not calling your brother by his Christian name—he's purchased the Harrison House in Bath for us."
Jonathan's eyes widened. "The one on Queen Square?"
She nodded.
"I should have known. My brother's not one to settle for less, though I fail to see why you need a house that size for just the two of you."
Gregory's stomach dropped. Why must Glee flaunt his extravagance to his pinch-penny brother? "It's not so large as you think," Gregory snapped.
"And you must see the lovely new carriage Blank's has presented me," Glee continued, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
"I daresay he's got the blunt," Jonathan said coolly.
Gregory fought his strong desire to stuff his handkerchief in his affianced's mouth.
After tea, Glee stood up and said, "Come, dear brother," as she began to stroll from the library, her arm tucked into Jonathan's. "I must make you known to my family."
* * *
Somehow, Jonathan had not been prepared for Miss Pembroke's uncommon beauty. She was fair and petite and at once elicited a protectiveness. She was, quite simply, a diamond of the first water. Any man would want to marry her. Any man but his brother. He had not lived his life with Gregory not to know how strong was his brother's aversion to marriage and to fathering children.
Clearly, Gregory meant to gain his inheritance, whatever the cost. Nothing more. Which was not at all what his blessed father had in mind when stipulating that Gregory must be wed by his twenty-fifth birthday. Their father wanted Gregory to lay to rest his rakish ways, to care about the running of his estates more than the outcome of the races at Newmarket. He wanted his firstborn to sire an heir.
Jonathan was certain his brother would continue down his corrupt path, taking Sutton Hall with him. And if Jonathan had to earn his brother's eternal contempt to prevent that from happening, so be it.
A marriage wasn't a marriage if it was not consummated. Jonathan would wager his year's income Gregory had no intentions of consummating the marriage. Not that Gregory didn't like bedding beautiful women. He just didn't like bedding beautiful women of respectable pedigree.
First, Jonathan would do everything in his power to prevent his brother's marriage from occurring. And if that failed, he could at least gain Miss Pembroke's confidence and learn enough to prove in court that his brother's marriage was never consummated.
The problem was that Miss Pembroke, like so many others of her sex, was clearly in love with his brother. The way she looked at Gregory with love in her eyes was no sham. She could no more conceal her love than she could camouflage her fiery tresses.
How fortunate that Gregory did not fancy decent women.
Jonathan kissed Miss Pembroke's dainty white hand. "Now that I see you, I shall be very jealous of my brother."
She smiled and looked up adoringly at Gregory, who lifted her hand to his mouth for a tender kiss. Of course, it was all an act to fool him. But he knew his brother far too well to be taken in.
Miss Pembroke's beautiful sister and sister-in-law were in the nursery cooing over an infant child. Jonathan could not possibly have determined if the babe was a girl or boy. As far as he could tell, all babies looked the same. As he watched the three women—who were unquestionably the three prettiest women he had ever seen in one gathering—lavishing attention on the babe, it became clear to him that Miss Pembroke genuinely cared for her baby niece or nephew. It was also clear that she was cut out to be an adoring mother. Like his own. A pity his brother would starve Miss Pembroke's maternal instincts.
Jonathan turned to Gregory. "Even with your marriage imminent, I cannot fathom you as a father."
The smile on Gregory's face fell. He swallowed. "I admit I have never longed for an heir as other men do, but if that is what makes my dearest wife happy, I shall oblige her." Gregory looked at Glee, whose cheeks grew scarlet.
"I daresay my sister will tell you all the pain and discomfort of lying-in quickly fades from memory once you hold your child in your arms," Glee said. "Of course, I was present at Georgette's birth, and I've yet to recall the ordeal without a strong desire to avoid such pain." She flashed a smile. "My sister, Felicity, will become a mother by All Souls Day. She and her husband are most excited, are you not?" she asked, turning shining eyes on Felicity.
The girl loved his brother so dearly she feigned an aversion to childbirth she was far from feeling. Jonathan's heart went out to Miss Pembroke. What would she have if she married Gregory? Certainly no babes. A cold, lonely bed. And the knowledge that her rakish husband found comfort in the beds of other women, women of a lower class, to be sure. Glee Pembroke deserved better.
"We cannot fill the nursery fast enough," Felicity Moreland said with a laugh.
Jonathan's glance darted to Mrs. Moreland's tiny waist, and he found it difficult to believe she was increasing. He envied the woman's fortunate husband. For Felicity Moreland, with her blonde fairness and shimmering blue eyes, was an extraordinary beauty. Like her sister.
From the nursery, Miss Pembroke led him to her brother's study, where the viscount was working with his steward.
"How good it is to see you again, Jonathan," George said as he stood up.
Despite Lord Sedgewick's wild ways, Jonathan had always liked him. But the man who now stood in front of him bore little resemblance to the irresponsible fellow he had been before his marriage. The viscount he had known would never have bothered meeting with his steward for he would have been too busy drinking and gambling and bedding loose women. That he was obviously content at Hornsby was indeed a surprise.
If only his brother could be more like Sedgewick. If Gregory could only do what their father had wanted him to do. But Gregory could no more change his ways than a leopard could change its spots. A more inflexible man than Gregory had never been born.
The three of them left Sedgewick with his steward and went for a walk around the park. It would be difficult to malign his brother while he was present, but Jonathan must lay the foundation. "While I envy you your beautiful betrothed," Jonathan said to his brother, who was holding the hand of his affianced, "I cannot help but pity poor Miss Pembroke." He turned to her. "Though you've known my brother most of your life, I daresay you cannot truly know of his character. Else you wouldn't have him."
Gregory's eyes went cold as he contemptuously studied his brother.
Glee laughed. "I assure you I know all of your brother's vices, but I'm convinced that with maturity—and marriage—he will change for the better. You'll be proud of him."
They had nearly completed the circle around the park and now faced Hornsby Manor. It was a magnificent house—truly fit for a peer of the realm—with its aged brick and many wings jutting from the regal edifice. How proud their father would have been to align his family with such a noble house. If only Gregory weren't so blasted stubborn! He was no more flexible in his opinions than an iron sword. Jonathan knew with a conviction as strong as truth that even Miss Pembroke's many attributes had failed to capture his brother's prurient heart. "My brother has brought me pride in many ways. His athletic feats are still talked of at Oxford."
"I'm afraid, my love, Jonathan is exactly like our father was," Gregory said to Glee. "He tends to judge me with the eyes of a disappointed father. Papa wanted me to be like him. To tend to the estates at Sutton Hall. To be a faithful husband and sire hoards of children to carry on our respectable family name."
"What you have cited are things Miss Pembroke must also desire," Jonathan said, giving Glee a furtive look.
She lowered her lashes. "If you think to make me change my mind, dear brother, you must think again. I have loved Bl--Gregory all my life. Nothing
will make me cry off." Color hiked up her fair cheeks.
Just as he thought. He was, indeed, powerless to prevent the marriage. Jonathan would have to wait until Gregory's poor wife was prostrate from his ill treatment. Then Jonathan would secure the information he needed to challenge his father's will.
Jonathan offered them a smile he was far from feeling. "I shall leave you two lovebirds alone. Daresay I need to clean up properly before supper. It's at five of the clock, is it not?"
"Yes," Glee said.
"I'm sure you'll want to rest after your tiresome journey, too," Gregory added.
"Mother's resting as we speak," Jonathan answered.
* * *
Gregory stiffened as he watched his brother enter the house. Aurora was here though he had not invited her. He had wanted only those who would wish him well—those he loved and those who cared for him—at his wedding. Though it was not to be a conventional marriage, it would be Gregory's only marriage. A most solemn—and sacred—occasion. And he did not want wish his she-devil of a stepmother here.
* * *
"Are you all right, Blanks?" Glee asked, concern in her voice. Her beloved's face had gone white, and it frightened her.
"Never been better," he said as he turned to her, a grin pinching his tanned cheek.
She colored. It was beastly embarrassing to face him after she had blathered of her devotion to him. I have loved Gregory all my life. Why had she allowed those words to slip from her tongue? Now Blanks would know what a scheming hoyden she was.
But to her complete surprise, Blanks swept her up into his powerful arms and gave her a hearty—though passionless—kiss. Then he set her down.
His handsome face was all smiles, his dark eyes glittering. "You were magnificent! Perhaps it was my lucky day the day you forced me into marriage. I have loved Gregory all my life! What a clever thing to say! I commend you on your ability to think under pressure. I can see you'll do well convincing my brother ours is a love match."
Her heart fluttered. It was a love match. A one-sided love match. "Trust me, dear Blanks, I can be most convincing. You'll not regret our uncommon alliance."