by Cheryl Bolen
"What happened in London?" she asked. "I perceive it has something to do with a Miss Douglas."
He frowned. "Miss Douglas's brother was a friend of ours who was killed in the Peninsula. Appleton and I—along with George—promised to look after her." He stopped and bit his lip. "We failed miserably."
"What happened to her?"
"Jefferson promised marriage but failed to deliver on the promise when Miss Deouglass became. . .You needn't concern yourself."
A moment later Glee said, "He got her with child, did he not?"
Gregory nodded solemnly.
Glee sighed. "Well, Blanks, at least we have succeeded in convincing the ton ours is love match."
He settled a kiss on the top of her head. "Apparently so."
She saw that his knuckles were bleeding. "You're hurt! Oh, Blanks, I should never forgive myself if you were to get hurt saving your foolish wife from Jefferson's clutches. I was so terrified when you were fighting. I was afraid he would draw a knife on you. He's such a wicked man."
"Had there been a knife in his bedchamber, I have no doubt he'd have tried to use it on me."
"How did you know to find me? And rescue me?"
"Since I'm far more well acquainted with Jefferson's character than you, I hired a Bow Street Runner to follow you, with instructions that William Jefferson was a dangerous man. So when he saw you enter Jefferson's building, he came straight away for me."
"Thank goodness. But I thought you'd still be at the cock fights."
"As it happens, I didn't have to take Thomas and George home because they didn't come. Thank God they didn't," he said throatily. "Had I returned them to Winston Hall, I'd have been too late..." Emotion choked his voice.
"Oh, Blanks, you're my knight rescuing me from the evil dragon. You're the bravest man I've ever known."
"I wouldn't say that. I merely protect what's mine."
She snuggled up to him as they drove from one end of Bath to another. He had told the coachman to drive anywhere and not stop until he told him to. Gregory, cradling a whimpering Glee to him, oddly did not want the ride to end. He could not remember ever feeling such utter contentment.
"Did you say my brother did not attend the cock fight?"
"I did. He didn't."
She sat up ramrod straight. "George miss a cock fight? He must be on death's door."
"Not him. Diana, and I daresay that's worse as far as George is concerned. He's most devoted to her."
Glee's face went white. "Diana's at death's door?"
"No. No. She's merely suffering with a fever that the doctor assures George will go away, but George is beside himself with worry. Thomas said George didn't leave her side all night."
"I must go to Winston Hall," Glee said.
Gregory conveyed the new direction to the coachman.
At Winston Hall, Glee brushed past the butler who opened the door to them. "I've come to see my sister Diana."
At the sound of Glee's voice, Felicity came running from the drawing room.
"How is she?" Glee asked, her brows drawn together.
By now Thomas had joined them at the foot of the stairs. "I wouldn't know," Felicity said, directing a glance of mock outrage at her husband. "Thomas will not allow me to go near her room—because of my condition."
Glee smiled up at Thomas. "Thank you, Thomas. I feared Felicity would force herself into the sick room, and that wouldn't do at all—because of her condition." Glee started up the stairs. "I'm sure George could use some relief—and I daresay Diana needs a level-headed female. I'm persuaded Colette is utterly useless at a time like this. The French are so given to vapors, you know."
Gregory put out a hand to block Glee's progress. "I don't know if I like the idea of you going to the sick room, my dear."
Glee turned back and gazed at him with wonderment on her face. "Oh, Blanks, my darling, that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." Impulsively, she threw her arms around him and kissed him briefly. "But you must know, I am never sick. Tell him, Felicity."
"Glee does enjoy excellent health. She's never even had a headache."
Resigned to his wife's decision, Gregory watched her climb the stairs. Then he realized he was not behaving that differently from George. He really did care for Glee. Of course, he wasn't in love with her as George was with Diana. They had neither shared a bed nor the creation of a child in their image. As had George and Diana. And Felicity and Thomas.
Soon George joined them.
"How's Lady Sedgewick?" Gregory asked.
"I'm persuaded she's better. I got her to drink some water."
"Why don't you try to grab some sleep?" Thomas asked, concern in his voice. "She'll be in good hands with Glee."
George shook his head. "I can't. I know I should, but I'm still too upset. The poor lamb is never sick. I'm wretchedly worried."
Thomas clapped a hand on his back. "She'll be back to normal tomorrow. Mark my words. 'Tis just a passing fever."
"I hope you're right."
Gregory felt utterly helpless to offer succor to his lifelong friend who was dangerously close to weeping. "Then how about a game of billiards before you return to your vigil?"
"I suppose I could," George said wanly.
Gregory insisted that George and Thomas play the first game, and he would play the winner. He took a seat on a high stool and watched. It was obvious George's heart was elsewhere. He could hardly make a shot, and normally George was uncommonly good at billiards. He was likely trying to get the game over with without delay so he could return to his beloved's bedside. Poor fellow.
Thomas won handily, and George was all too happy to return to Diana.
Getting to his feet, Gregory said, "Perhaps I won't play the winner, after all. I'm determined to get that wife of mine out of the sick room. She's vexatious enough when she's well."
Truth be told, Gregory's fear for Glee—even now that he had rescued her—was acute. He did not at all like not having her near. As long as he was with her, he knew she was all right. Good Lord, he was turning into George!
He watched as George went up stairs. A moment later, Glee came down, a smile on her face. "Diana awakened and spoke to me. She's ever so much better now. And she's not nearly as hot as she was yesterday. I believe the fever has broken."
"Thank God," Felicity said. "Maybe now that brother of ours won't behave as if we're hosting a wake."
Glee turned to Gregory and rolled her eyes. "If Diana hadn't been so dreadfully ill, I believe I'd laugh myself sick over George's ridiculous behavior."
His arm around Felicity, Thomas said, "I see nothing ridiculous in George's behavior. I daresay I'd be just as bad if Felicity were that sick."
Gregory copied. After all, he had fine examples. He placed his arm gently around Glee. "Me too. If it were Glee, that is."
Glee looked adoringly into Gregory's face. "Now that's twice today you've said the sweetest thing to me. I declare, I don't deserve you, love."
"It's I who don't deserve you," Gregory insisted.
The ride back to the town house was not nearly as comforting as the ride there for Glee sat up straight in the seat beside him. He thought he liked it better when she snuggled against him.
* * *
At the townhouse Hampton greeted him at the door. "Your brother has arrived in Bath to stay with you, Mr. Blankenship. I took the liberty of having his things placed in the gold room."
Gregory came to a dead stop, briefly shifting his puzzled gaze to Glee. "My brother?"
"Yes, sir. He gave me his card. Jonathan Blankenship it said."
Gregory gathered his composure. "What a pleasant surprise."
His words were uttered in the nick of time, for Jonathan, on hearing his brother's voice, came from the library. "Hope you don't mind me not letting you know of my arrival," Jonathan began.
"Since when is my brother not welcomed happily into my home?"
"We're so very glad you've come," Glee said, dipping a courtsey. "Why just
this morning Blanks was telling me how much he would enjoy a visit from you." She tucked her arm into Jonathan's. "How long will you be staying in Bath?"
His eyes shifted from Glee to Gregory. "My plans are rather indefinite."
Chapter 26
This was Glee's chance to make amends for all the grief she had caused Blanks. For however long Jonathan was to stay here with them, she would see to it he was completely convinced of his brother's devotion to her—and of her devotion to his brother. Her glance flitted to Blanks's bleeding knuckles. Oh dear. How would they explain them to Jonathan? Could he have received them at the cock fight? Or perhaps he assisted the coachman in dislodging the carriage wheel from a muddy mire at Winston Hall. She bit at her lip. Neither scenario seemed probable. Then an idea struck her.
"Jonathan, you will hardly recognize your brother for he has changed so drastically." She strolled alongside of her brother-in-law as they made their way to the library. "This morning Blanks risked his life to protect me from the most wretched cut-throat who tried to steal my earrings. Show him your knuckles, darling," she said to Blanks.
He frowned. "Jonathan does not wish to look at my bleeding knuckles."
Jonathan's furtive gaze slid to Blanks's mangled hand as they came into the library and dropped onto silken sofas. Glee and Blanks sat together on one; Jonathan faced them on another.
"A cut-throat in Bath in broad daylight?" Jonathan asked incredulously. "I've never heard of such. And I thought Bath the safest city in all of England."
"'Tis entirely my own fault," Glee explained. "I should never have worn the earrings in daytime. It's just that they were so very special, being the only gift Blanks has ever purchased for me." She glanced up at her husband and smiled. Blanks slid her an insincere grin.
"Did you actually fight the man?" Jonathan asked his brother.
Glee detected a wisp of pride in the smaller, fairer brother's voice.
"I daresay it was an unconscious reaction to him threatening my wife," Blanks said.
Jonathan glanced from his brother to Glee, who gloried in her husband's unexpected admission.
"But he bested the beast," Glee said with pride. "The man raced off on foot, and I daresay we won't be threatened by him ever again."
"That'll teach him not to toy with my brother. No one who knows of Gregory's prowess with his fists would dare challenge him."
"I thank you for your confidence in me, but I cannot admit to being as skilled as I once was. Out of practice, you know."
"I hope you are, dearest," Glee said, stroking the sleeve of Blank's brown jacket. "I shouldn't like it at all if you went about jeopardizing your life. Now that you're a family man, you'll simply have to change your ways."
Jonathan's mouth dropped open. "A family man? Surely . . ."
Smiling mischievously, Glee shook her head. "I have no reason to believe I'm increasing—yet," Glee said.
Relief washed over Jonathan's countenance.
"Have you come from Sutton Hall?" she asked her brother-in-law.
"Yes." He directed his gaze at Blanks. "Mother sends her best."
Blanks failed to acknowledge Jonathan's comment.
I'll bet she does, Glee thought. "I should love to see Sutton Hall," Glee said wistfully in an effort to smooth over the awkward silence.
"I daresay it's yours for the taking, Gregory," Jonathan said.
Blanks nodded. "In good time. My poor wife was so tired of being buried in the country when we wed that I promised her a Season in Bath."
"He's so very good to me," Glee added.
"Yes, I've heard," Jonathan answered grimly. "A new phaeton, a sizeable wardrobe—not to mention the house and carriage. It's a wonder there's any money left."
"Be assured our father's estate can easily afford such insignificant purchases," Blanks said.
"I don't think the finest town house in Bath an insignificant purchase."
Blanks looked somberly at his brother. "No, but it's a fine investment, you must admit."
"And, delightfully, large enough to afford you your own suite, dear brother," Glee reminded. "We're so very happy you've come. Though many lively events are planned tonight, if it is agreeable to you, I'd just as lief stay here with you tonight and enjoy a cozy evening at home. Besides, my brother and his wife will not be out tonight, owing to her sudden illness, which I pray is nearing its conclusion."
"I pray that it is," Jonathan said without conviction.
Glee smiled at him. "You must be tired after your journey. Why don't you go up to your chambers and rest? Dinner will be served at five."
* * *
After Jonathan left the library, Gregory got up to close the door, then came back to sit beside Glee. "You realize the gold room is next to mine?"
"Yes?"
"That will make Jonathan acutely aware of our . . .marital arrangements."
He watched Glee's face until the impact of his statement dawned on her. "Oh, I see." Then her face brightened. "I'll just have to sleep with you while he's here."
God, but she was such an innocent! Did she think a man and woman could innocently sleep together? He, for one, would have a devilishly difficult time lying beside Glee and not want to gather her in his arms. And once she was against him, he would be powerless to stop at a chaste kiss.
The events of the night he was foxed intruded on his thoughts. An innocent she might be, but Glee was also a woman of extraordinary passion. He had already awakened it once. The next time he feared he would indulge her passion to its natural fulfillment. Sweet heavens, he must force himself to think of something else.
"Enlighten me, please, on why you told my brother the outrageous story of the cut-throat robber?"
"I knew he'd inquire on the nature of your wounded hands, and I thought the cut-throat tale would emphasize your gallantry toward me. You must admit, my story wasn't really far from the truth. If the vile Mr. Jefferson is not akin to a cut-throat robbing my diamonds, I don't know who is. And you did fight with him to protect me. So there you have it."
Gregory burst out laughing. "I suppose you're right, my dear. How resourceful of you."
* * *
That night at dinner Gregory sat back and watched his little wife making it her mission to show Jonathan how remarkably Gregory had changed since his marriage.
"You know, Jonathan," she began, "I think your father must have been an extremely wise man."
Jonathan set his fork on his gilded plate. "He was, but how did you know?"
"As you must know, I'm aware of the. . .unusual terms of your father's will."
"About Gregory's marriage?"
"Just so. It's my belief your father knew what solidness lay beneath Blanks's devil-may-care exterior. That, of course, is what motivated him to draw up the peculiar will. And by doing so, he forced Blanks to mature at a far greater rate than he would have, given his own natural inclinations. You must ask Blanks's friends, Mr. Appleton and the twins. They'll confirm that Blanks no longer pursues his former interests. You know, the gaming and drinking and. . .womanizing. He's settled down into marriage every bit as admirably as my brother has."
A curious sense of pride washed over Gregory as he listened to his wife and watched the intent expression on her youthful face. She had even refrained from calling Appleton Timothy! If he had to have a wife, he could not have found one better than Glee. Even if she had vexed him half to death.
"I find your brother's transformation most admirable, however, a similar metamorphosis in my brother remains to be seen, Miss, er, Mrs. Blankenship."
She tossed him an impatient glance. "You're to call me Glee. After all, you're now my brother."
"Forgive me," Jonathan said. "'Twill take time."
A room-brightening smile flashed across her face as she replied. "We have forever." Then she sent Gregory a warm glance.
Oddly, a feeling of utter contentment swamped Gregory as he peered into her smiling eyes.
"It's my belief," Jonathan said, "that our f
ather desired Gregory to take an active role in managing the estates, and I've yet to see evidence of that."
"Oh, but he has! He spends long hours every day at Mr. Willowby's office learning all about your father's various holdings."
"Gregory?"
"Yes. I told you he's vastly changed. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if he were to take possession of Sutton Hall and focus all his efforts on not only continuing its success but also in improving that which your father left."
Good Lord, what was the chit getting him into? Where did she come up with such outrageous ideas?
Jonathan's brows lowered. "I daresay that's what our father had in mind."
"I hope your mother won't feel she's being usurped," Glee said.
Jonathan was silent for a moment. "I daresay she'll have time to prepare for it."
"It may come sooner than you think," Glee confided. "Once we have children, I shall want to retire to the country with them."
Gregory nearly choked on his wine. How did Glee manage to come up with such fiction without a moment's hesitation? He settled back in his chair and watched her, an amused grin on his face. He should have charged admission!
"I cannot picture Gregory being content in the country," Jonathan said, shooting a glance at his brother.
"You must admit," Glee responded, "he has never been made to feel completely at home at Sutton Hall."
Stunned that his mere slip of a wife had the courage to bring up a subject never before openly broached and had the perception to understand feelings Gregory himself had never before voiced, Gregory watched her with glowing pride.
Jonathan shrugged, then sheepishly looked at Glee. "You refer, of course, to the estrangement between my brother and my mother."
"I do because Blanks won't."
Sweet heavens, but she had guts! Gregory was only beginning to discover the depth of Glee's character. She was neither the frivolous noblewoman nor the practiced flirt he had been prepared to accept as his wife. Though they had been married less than three weeks, he was gripped by the profound conviction that he and Glee were united by something far stronger than a vicar's words or his mother's emeralds. It was as if they were bound to each other by some unseverable lifeline which was as vital to them as drawing breath.