With His Ring (Brides of Bath Book 2)

by Cheryl Bolen

  When he had heard coach-and-four mentioned, Gregory's heart tripped. Had Glee gone to Hornsby Manor? Or Sutton Hall? Had some emergency arisen that called for her attention? He'd miss her like the devil. "Did Mrs. Blankenship, perchance, leave me a letter?"

  "I couldn't say, sir. I did see her leave your chamber shortly before she left. It may be that she left some type of communication in your room."

  Nodding, Gregory hastened up the stairs to his chambers. His stomach oddly disturbed and his pulse erratic, he walked up to his desk and read Glee's letter.

  Then he angrily wadded it up, cursed a blue streak and threw the ball of velum at the nearest wall. Did the minx have the effrontery to think he did not want her? Fury rocked him. Even if he weren't to ever bed her again, he had no desire to deny himself the pleasure of her company, as painful as it was to behold her without carrying his passion to its natural conclusion.

  Good Lord, he thought, could Glee be angry because he refused to indulge in the pleasures of her body? His mind flashed back to her reaction when he'd told her there was to be no more lovemaking. She had expressed her unhappiness at her inability to satisfy him! He laughed loudly and bitterly now. Nothing in his wretched life had ever satisfied him so thoroughly.

  And he had allowed the poor girl to think herself undesirable! That had to explain why she had left him. His first inclination was to hurry after her, to make her listen to him when he told her how highly he had valued their lovemaking.

  But, after more careful consideration, he realized her departure, though painful now, in the years to come would be for the best. Being with her day after agonizing day would only inflict nearly unbearable suffering upon him.

  With a bittersweet ache in the vicinity of his heart, he went down to his library where Jonathan found him a half hour later.

  Gregory's head jerked up from the quarterly review when he heard angry footsteps outside his door. Then the door flew open, slamming into the wall behind it and rattling the paintings on the library wall.

  Gregory's brows lowered as he watched his brother storm into the room and stride up to the desk where Gregory sat. Jonathan stood there, his eyes flashing angrily, his voice trembling with rage. "Of all the careless, conscienceless things you've done in your miserable life, you've now sunk as low as you can go."

  A puzzled look crossed Gregory's pained face. "Pray, enlighten me. What conscienceless thing have I now done?"

  "You haven't been married a month, and you flaunt your purple-hued mistress right in your wife's face!"

  Gregory pounced to his feet, his hands fisted, fury in his voice. "I've done no such thing!"

  Jonathan watched his brother through flashing narrowed eyes. "I saw you and the tart. So did Glee. What was your poor wife to think when she saw you go after the woman and grab her arm?"

  "Dear God!" Gregory groaned, shaking his head. "It wasn't at all what you think." He looked directly into his brother's angry eyes. "I give you my word, I severed the . . .alliance with Carlotta as soon as I offered for Glee. That's the truth."

  "Then explain to me why you two were together today."

  Gregory shrugged. "I know what it must have looked like, but it was an honest case of two people passing in the street."

  "And you just happened to snatch her arm, with a worried look on your face?"

  "I told you, it's not what you think," Gregory mumbled, collapsing back into his chair. "Are you sure Glee saw this?"

  There was a curious mixture of anger and sorrow on Jonathan's face. "God, man, she wept."

  The words struck a blow to Gregory's windpipe. Finally, he murmured, "So that's why she's left me."

  "Can you blame her?"

  Gregory shook his head somberly. "Perhaps it's best this way. I've been an abominable husband."

  "Admit it, Gregory. You married her merely to claim your inheritance. There was never a real marriage."

  "Without Glee, I don't care about anything. Take the money," Gregory said.

  "I can't! It's obvious Glee's madly in love with you."

  Gregory looked up hopefully. "Do you really think so?" He had guessed she might be in love with him, but this was verification of his most ardent hopes.

  "You're a bloody moron if you can't see how truly she does love you."

  "But it was to be a marriage in name only. She said---"

  "She talked you into the marriage, did she not?"

  "How did you know?"

  Jonathan laughed. "Because the girl has always been in love with you, you idiot!"

  It was rather like brilliant blue skies ripping through black clouds. Dare he hope Glee really loved him? His hopeful heart began to drum with anticipation. "I'd like to believe it," Gregory said throatily.

  "Are you in love with her?" Jonathan asked, disbelief in his voice.

  Gregory solemnly met his brother's gaze. "So keenly it hurts."

  Jonathan edged back onto the arm of an upholstered chair and lowered his weight onto it. "I believe you really do. Why else would you risk your fortune by confiding in me your deceit?"

  Gregory shook his head bitterly. "Nothing matters anymore," he said in a low voice not devoid of pain. "Glee was—is—my life."

  "Then go tell her, man!"

  "But. . ." He couldn't tell his brother of the unnatural dread which filled him when he thought of burying himself into his beloved wife. "Perhaps it's better this way."

  Chapter 31

  The first week of her return to Hornsby, Glee sulked in anger toward Blanks. On her eighth day she allowed herself to think less bitterly toward him. During one of her solitary rides through the estate she came upon the dome-topped folly which was reflected in the shimmering water of the pond beside it. This was the place where she had forced Blanks to marry her.

  As with any memory connected to Blanks, she was free of shame no matter how brazen had been her pursuit of him. From the first, her battle strategy had been to spare no humiliation in her quest to eventually snare his heart. She laughed bitterly, with the trees and the now-thick carpet of ruffled green grass her only audience. True to her pledge, she had drawn the line at nothing in her fervent drive to earn his love.

  And it had all been for naught.

  During the succession of empty days of hollowed existence at Hornsby, Glee had relived every moment, every loving word or gesture that Blanks had bestowed on her. She came to realize had she the opportunity to do it all over again, she would not have hesitated to marry him again.

  As she perceived it, there were two reasons for her failure. The first, of course, was Blanks's affection for Carlotta Ennis. The other was Glee's own failure to sexually satisfy him. What a fool she had been to imagine she could compete with so experienced a lover as Carlotta must be.

  As Glee dismounted and led her horse around the columned perimeter of the folly, her memory of that rainy day she entrapped Blanks shot through her like a bullet. That was when her anger began to abate. Blanks could have revealed her wickedness to George that day, but he sacrificed his own happiness to shield her. 'Twas such an honorable act.

  A man with that kind of nobility was deeply at odds with one who could lie so convincingly about Carlotta. With the ice around her heart melting, Glee told herself Blanks lied merely to spare her own feelings.

  He was so gentle and loving. She thought of his efforts to help Archie and of his gallantry in declaring himself to her brother. So many acts of his kindnesses—and his protectiveness toward her—crowded into her mind, imbuing her with the love she had never been able to deny. Now she came to appreciate that despite her anger she had used an affectionate closing in her farewell letter him.

  She almost came to regret that she had left, but she had finally accepted that she could never force Blanks to love her. And with no hope for his love, all she could want was for him to be happy. Liberated and happy.

  Her eyes moist, she sighed. At least she would always have her precious memories of the three glorious weeks she had been Mrs. Gregory Blankensh
ip.

  * * *

  Not a day, not a minute had agonizingly dragged by that Gregory's thoughts had not been invaded with memories of the angel who had been his wife. He took solitary rides through the countryside in a vain effort to purge Glee from his thoughts. He avoided the Pump Room and the Assembly Room and anywhere where someone might inquire about his wife. The wound was still far too raw for him to deepen.

  His brother, who continued to stay at Gregory's town house in order to further his friendship with Miss Arbuckle, did not let a minute go by that he did not needle Gregory about going after Glee. All of which made Gregory realize how much his brother meant to him.

  One afternoon when his memories of Glee nearly overpowered him, Gregory felt compelled to return to her chambers. He had been picturing her in the emerald dress he loved her to wear, and he wondered if she had taken it to wear at Hornsby. He rifled through her dressing room but saw no sign of the emerald dress. Instead, she had left behind the dresses he disliked so excessively. The scant red, the near backless black, the copper metallic. Upon looking at them, he smiled to himself. That she'd left them behind curiously pleased him. It was as if her simple action was a silent concession to him.

  As he fingered the soft silk of the red dress, George's words came back to him. Her brother had said he believed Glee desired to appear fast in order to attract him. Would that he could believe that.

  But, of course, had she truly loved him, she would not have been able to flee.

  That same afternoon he answered correspondence, he read over his brother's draft of the franchise article, and he perused and signed a sheaf of papers for Willowby. All the while George's words kept ringing in his ears. Could Glee really have meant to appear fast because his preference for fast women was well known?

  Could she, he asked himself, have really loved him? Jonathan was convinced she did. Gregory even remembered his own assurances that she must care for him when she offered him her body.

  If he could be convinced of her love, his own happiness would be as infinite as the air they breathed.

  He thought of Glee's closeness to her sister, and was overcome with a need to ride over to Winston Hall and speak to Felicity about Glee.

  * * *

  When Gregory arrived at Winston Hall, he was pleased to learn George and Thomas had gone shooting. What he had come to learn concerned only Felicity. Or Felicity and Diana, who was like a true sister to Glee.

  When Felicity entered the drawing room where he awaited, her brow was creased with worry. That her lovely face so closely resembled Glee's made him physically ache to see Glee.

  "Tell me those nasty rumors I hear about my sister returning to Hornsby are not true," Felicity said.

  Having risen to greet her and kiss her proffered hand, Gregory's lips thinned into a grim line. "I'm afraid they are."

  "Oh dear," she said, collapsing into a chair.

  He could not help but notice her tiny waist finally had thickened to reveal evidence of the babe which grew in her womb. The thought caused him to stiffen. "Pray, how is Lady Sedgewick? I trust she has returned to good health?"

  Felicity laughed. "Quite good, actually, though George coddles her unbearably. He still hasn't allowed her from her chamber. You know how he is where Diana's concerned."

  Gregory nodded solemnly. "I used to think it foolish. Now I understand."

  Her face solemn, Felicity studied him.

  "I've been wondering," Gregory began. "Since you're so devilishly close to your sister, I thought perhaps she may have confided in you. For example, George once suggested that Glee's endeavors to appear fast might be prompted by her desire to appear more attractive to me." He frowned. "Unfortunately, in the past I've been known to associate with loose women. Before Glee, you understand."

  An amused smile crossed Felicity's face. "George told me the very same thing about Glee's outrageous dress, and I told him he was likely right. Diana—this was before she became sick—said she was sure of it. In fact, Diana said Glee admitted to her quite some time before your betrothal that she had always been in love with you." Felicity gave him a long, sympathetic look. "Is this, perhaps, what you came here to hear?"

  His face lifted when he smiled at her. "Indeed it is!" Then he got to his feet.

  "Shall you go now to Hornsby?"

  He nodded.

  Chapter 32

  Gregory told himself he should wait for the morrow. He had only two hours of daylight left, but he was so thirsty to behold his beloved, he could not go through another night without seeing her. Champion would carry him in good stead, and the roads should be in good condition since no rain had fallen recently.

  Thoughts of the laughter ringing in Glee's voice, of her floral scent, of the smoothness of her fair skin and the vibrant life of her cinnamon colored hair—all of these thoughts sustained him throughout the long hours of his journey. Most of all, he cherished her for the true wife she had been to him.

  He had come to understand so much of life because of her. Now he knew how the urchin Archie possessed far more than he ever had. Gregory could now empathize with George, who loved his wife quite possibly more than he loved himself. And Gregory had finally come to understand that his youthful wife knew his own heart far better than he had known it.

  He grew so hungry to see her, his breath grew short, and his hands trembled. He tried to rehearse what he would say to her, but none of the words he articulated seemed adequate.

  Two hours after night had fallen, he rode up the avenue to Hornsby Manor. Light shone in but a few of the windows of the sprawling manor house. He still did know what he was going to say to Glee, but he knew he would speak his heart.

  In front of the house, he dismounted and tethered his horse, then nervously approached the front door. The butler who answered the door to him raised a puzzled brow. "May I help you, sir?"

  "I'm Mr. Blankenship. I've come to see my wife."

  Sweeping the door open, the butler apologized profusely for failing to recognize "Miss Glee's husband."

  As he stepped into the house, Gregory looked upward and saw Glee hurry gracefully down the stairs. She wore her emerald gown, and Gregory was convinced she had never looked more beautiful.

  "Blanks! Is anything wrong?"

  The sight of her in all her radiant beauty affected him profoundly. "Your family members are well," he said. Then to the butler, he added, "A private word with my wife, if you please."

  "Very good, sir," the man said as he scooted off.

  Glee came to the bottom of the stairs and froze in front of Gregory.

  His hat in his trembling hand, he worshiped her with his eyes. "All your family is well, save me, that is. . .that is, if you consider me family."

  A worried look flashed across her tiny face and her hand went out to him. With pain, he noticed she was not wearing his mother's emerald ring—their wedding ring. "Pray tell, what's the matter?" she asked.

  "It seems you left behind in Bath something I was unaware I possessed."

  "What?" she asked, her brows plunging.

  "My heart."

  Her watery eyes widened, but she made no move from the bottom step where she had frozen. "What are you saying?"

  He swallowed. "That my resolve to never marry, to never fall in love has crumbled like yesterday's biscuits."

  A light began to dance in her eyes. "Gregory Blankenship, are you trying to tell me you have fallen in love with me?"

  "I am," he said solemnly.

  She started to move forward, then pulled back. "But I thought you were in love with Carlotta Ennis."

  "Never."

  "But--"

  "You saw me pass her in the street."

  "You didn't exactly pass her. You walked with her!"

  "I did. At her request. I want you to believe that was the first time I had seen her since I became betrothed to you."

  "Really?"

  "Really."

  "I wanted to believe you wouldn't lie to me. I was at odds to know wh
ich hurt me the most: your lying about Carlotta or your infidelity with her."

  A muscle in his jaw tightened, and he spoke in a low, throaty voice. "I was never unfaithful to you, Glee."

  "But. . .why did you grab Carlotta by the arm?"

  "Having discovered what it was to love you, I knew something of the pain she must have been feeling."

  "I see," Glee said thoughtfully. "She purposely met you on the street to beg that you take her back, and when you wouldn't, she berated herself."

  "It seems my wife is a most adept student of human behavior."

  Glee came down the final step and linked her arm through his. "I hope you have come to realize how well I know you, my dear Blanks."

  "Actually, it's something I've only recently discovered."

  They strolled from the house and into the parterre garden behind the manor.

  "Do you know, Blanks, since I've been back at Hornsby, I believe I've discovered something more about you."

  "What's that?"

  "The reason you don't want children."

  His heart thumped. "And?"

  "It all has to do with losing your mother on childbed. Remember, you told me you hated your father for—essentially—killing you mother."

  Good Lord, Glee did understand him better than he knew himself. He nodded.

  "It's my belief that you fear to impregnate me—or any woman you value."

  He came to a stop and nestled her face between his hands. "I can't ever risk losing you."

  "But, my dearest husband, the women in my family are good breeders. And I've never been sick a day in my life. It's my belief I'll bare you a dozen healthy babes."

  He settled his hands on her shoulders. "You're far too precious to me."

  "Then you're willing to throw away our happiness because of a silly notion formed when you were a boy?"

  They began to walk again. The smells of night and Glee's intoxicating presence comforted him as he sorted out his thoughts. Though his wife was five years younger than he, in so many ways she was wiser. His silly anxiety about the dangers of fathering a child was a holdover from his unnatural boyhood. More than he did, Glee realized true happiness would never come to them if they could not be united in every way.