"Why not Miss Cherrie Black, then?"
Was that jealousy in her expression? "I am not considering her or any other lady, Miss Garland. The fact of the matter is we were seen together in a compromising situation and we must marry."
She stared him directly in the eye, her expression cool. "I already spoke to my godmother about this."
He considered as much, but he was devilishly glad that blasted parasol had been damaged in the accident.
"And I am ready to marry you, my lord."
His eyes widened considerably. "You are?"
"I have my mother to think of, let alone Agatha and her guilt in all this. I have no wish for anyone to suffer needlessly because of something I did. And I do believe Grimstoke could make things very difficult if I do not comply."
What about love? he wanted to ask. Still, he realized they had reached a point in their relationship where some rules must be set. If she had had any love for him before, she certainly didn't show it now. He wished she would tell him what she was thinking.
"I will never hurt you, Briana."
"But you already have," she said hoarsely, spinning around, dragging her fingers across the gazebo.
He placed his hands on her shoulders. The instinct to protect this woman overwhelmed him. "How?"
She shrugged. "I don't want to trust you, and you are making me do just that."
"I care for you, Briana. In fact, I believe I am beginning to love you."
"Love me?" she asked softly, angling her head toward him. "How could you love me?"
"Let's see. I love your freckles, for one."
She blushed. "You are too charming, my lord."
Ah, progress. "I am asking you to marry me, Briana. I will not force you. But your reputation is at stake. If Grimstoke follows through with his threat, you could be ruined. However, if you have no wish to go through with this plan, I could whisk you away to the Continent. You and your mother. The scandal might die down in time, and no one would even remember what happened here."
She shook her head. "Violet is a dear friend, but sometimes she gets carried away. I fear she has already spread the news of our upcoming marriage to Miss Black and a few other guests."
"Has she compromised your name?"
Briana shrugged, not knowing what to say. Violet could stretch the truth sometimes, not realizing the pain she inflicted. In Briana's estimation, the story would never die down.
"Then I will ask you again. Will you marry me?"
Briana thought she caught a note of vulnerability in his voice. "Yes, my lord." She lifted her face to him, and the memory of their last kiss lingered in her mind.
He seemed to read her thoughts. His touch was oddly comforting when he took her hand. "There will be no scandal. You will see. May I call you Briana now?"
Her lips twitched. "Yes, my lord."
"Clayton. My name is Clayton," he whispered. "Let me hear you say it."
"Clayton," she said softly.
He pulled her closer and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. "In a few hours, you'll be mine, Briana."
"What did you say?"
"I said in a few hours."
"No, the other part."
"That you'll be mine?"
"Yes," she said in a clipped tone. "I want you to know that I will do as I wish when we marry. Is that clearly understood?'
His brows narrowed. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"
"I wish a house in Town."
"Done."
She flinched, surprised at his quick answer. "I want no words from you about how I go about my business."
His expression hardened. "Exactly what kind of business?"
She folded her hands across her chest "I find your question irrelevant my lord. Since we will be living apart."
"Clayton," he retorted. "I thought we covered that already."
"Clayton," she said coolly.
Instead of arguing, he had the urge to take the lady into his arms and kiss her soundly. But first he needed to marry the termagant. "Who the devil said we would be living apart?'
"You did, of course."
"I did not."
"My lord, a word with you, if you please."
Briana turned abruptly when Agatha's voice sounded behind her. She frowned, not happy to see her godmother hobbling about on her bad ankle.
Clayton scowled. "What the deuce are you doing out here with that injured ankle, madam?"
Gray eyes snapped at him. "After what happened yesterday, the real question is, should you be out here with my godchild?"
"I am to marry the lady, Miss Appleby. I believe I am entitled to a few minutes alone with her."
"Well, my lord, by the sound of your conversation, I can see I came just in time."
Briana gasped. "Agatha!"
Clayton's brows rose in amusement. "You've made your point."
"Agatha, you should go back to bed," Briana said worriedly.
"In a minute, child. I have another point to make." The older lady took in a deep breath and rested against a knotted oak for support. "Actually"—she paused to wipe the sweat from her brow—"three points, to be exact."
"I am all ears, madam."
"But Agatha," Briana protested, "you need to stay off that ankle." Her concerned gaze swung to Clayton. "Don't just stand there. Do something!"
The man broke into a smile. "What would you like me to do? Sweep her into my arms and force her back into her chambers?"
"Yes!" Briana said impatiently.
"Listen here, you two ... puppies!" Agatha interrupted. "I will say my piece if it's the last thing I do."
Clayton's eye glittered appreciatively in Agatha's direction. "Go on, madam."
Agatha gave him a satisfied nod. "Very well, my lord. At least one of you is listening. First, I want Briana to have full access to her planned home for women who are, hmmm, let's just say, found in delicate situations."
Clayton exchanged gazes between Briana and Agatha. "As her husband, what role do I play in this?"
Agatha sent him a pointed glare. "Nothing but your support."
Briana held her breath. Clayton looked at her with such possessiveness, the light in his eyes warmed her entire body.
"That's all?" he asked huskily.
Briana nodded uncomfortably.
His magnetic smile took her breath away. "Agreed."
"Good," Agatha said, looking very pale. "Next and probably the most important..."
"Yes, Miss Appleby?" Clayton's eyes gleamed with such mischief, Briana wanted to shake him. Agatha was about to fall flat on her face and he was smiling.
"You must love her," Agatha said, her finger pointing directly at his heart.
Oh, good grief! Briana wanted to sink into the ground.
Clayton clucked his tongue and regarded the two ladies for a few long seconds. "I must, must I?"
Agatha scowled, her hands fisting at her sides. "Where is a parasol when one needs one, for you certainly are in need of a good whack, my boy!"
Clayton burst out laughing. "Very well. I will love her."
A knot rose in Briana's throat. But did he mean it? Could she trust him? Was he teasing her earlier, or even now?
"Very good," Agatha said as calmly as if they were conversing over what horse they were to buy at Tattersall's. "And finally, I want this promise from both of you."
Clayton looked at Agatha, his gaze narrowing. "We are listening, but if you continue with this discussion, madam, your feet will not be able to hold up that tree."
"Listen to me, you young pup—"
Clayton growled and took a step toward her. "Madam, for the purpose of your safety, I believe we can continue our little talk in your chambers."
"Don't you lay a finger on me!" Agatha scolded, her gray eyes widening. "I can stand on my own two feet!"
Clayton let out a manly chuckle and took another step toward her. "That remains to be seen."
"Stay where you are. I'm warning you." Agatha pushed herself off the tree. "I can stand by myself, but
as to my conditions, I must demand that you will not allow Briana's mother to live with you."
Clayton's eyes danced. "That is your stipulation?"
Briana held her godmother's elbow. "Agatha, please."
Clayton gave the older lady a wink.
Agatha's gaze moved to Briana. "And what have you to say?"
Briana wanted to crawl into a hole. "Mother won't like it. She will want to live with me ... I mean us."
"Because she has wanted you to marry Lord Clayton since you were a child? " the lady replied coolly. "Because she wants to show her friends she is living with the son of a duke? No, you will agree to this, child, or I will see to it for you."
"Agatha," Briana pleaded.
"Fustian! Your mother has her own home. She doesn't need to interfere with yours. Promise me."
Clayton turned to Briana, his eyes so full of understanding she wanted to cry. He raised Briana's hand to his lips. "If you want your mother in our home, I won't stand in the way. But she can visit as much as she wants. I promise."
The man had her heart and soul twisted into so many turns she thought she might spin on her feet. "I will see that my mother has a place in our home, but not a permanent one."
Agatha smiled. "Good, then. I will see you two at church."
Clayton kept his eyes on Briana. "And I will see you in the library after I complete a small task. It's obvious this place is not as private as I hoped. We can settle a few more things before we take our vows."
Before Briana could reply, Clayton strode forward and swept Agatha into his arms.
Agatha gasped in surprise. "I have no need of your help!"
He grunted for emphasis. "Your goddaughter thinks you do."
Briana exchanged smiles with him, and her heart soared.
"You know, my boy," Agatha said, whacking him on the shoulder, "you remind me of someone I used to know."
The man's laugh held such tenderness that Briana felt her heart burst with love.
"I do?" he said mischievously. "Well, madam, you should stay off your feet, and I intend to see you do, even if it is for only thirty minutes." He juggled Agatha in his arms and gave Briana a sly wink. "Are you a gambling woman, Miss Appleby?"
"And what if I am?" she said stiffly.
"I will bet you a guinea I can make it back to your chambers within thirty seconds. Never fear—most of the guests are attending some game in the village or still in their bedchambers."
Agatha's eyes grew as wide as the knot in the tree behind her. "You will do no such thing! You arrogant puppy! Let me down!" The lady pushed against his shoulders, but it was useless.
Instead of listening to her protests, Clayton quickened his pace, dashing through the garden with Agatha in his arms. Briana smiled. This was the Clayton she knew. The Clayton she loved. And now it was the Clayton she was going to marry.
She leaned against the old gazebo and caught herself. What was she doing wasting precious time? Without anyone the wiser, she could try to open that writing box before Clayton arrived.
In truth, the transaction could already have taken place. That was, of course, if there were any communication at all. But why would Whitehall send two women to investigate? No doubt the superior agents were searching other places with more convincing evidence. The source in this case was probably a vengeful nobody bent on causing trouble for Lord Grimstoke.
Briana gave a tired sigh. For the sake of England, she had to try.
Chapter Seventeen
Briana's wary gaze flicked to the closed library door. She wished she had the key to lock it. How long before Clayton appeared? And how many times would she find herself in a strange room alone, waiting for someone to barge in and catch her at something? This entire game was wearing on her already frayed nerves.
Her head was in such a whirl, her heart felt as if it would jump out of her chest. She was to be married within the hour and here she was, looking for a clue in a possible assassination plot against the Prince Regent.
She pulled the writing box onto her lap and lightly pressed one of the back buttons. There was a sudden click and another drawer popped open beneath her fingers.
Her breath caught in her throat. The secret drawer! She lowered her head and peered inside, her fingers searching for anything at all. Nothing!
Had the missive already been retrieved, if there was one in the first place? Was she worrying over nothing? Was Whitehall's source trying to mislead them? She just didn't know.
Footsteps sounded outside the room, and she hurriedly snapped the drawer closed. Clayton was here sooner than she had expected. Agatha had probably whacked him a good one.
The door opened and she smiled. "You are earlier—"
Kingsdale's wicked grin unnerved her, and she quickly rose from her seat.
"Ah, Miss Garland, thought I saw you walk in here a minute ago. This is the meeting place, is it not?"
Briana's body tensed. Had he been watching her in the garden?
Of course he had. He was always watching her. It seemed a little too convenient for him to keep running into her, cornering her in any room where she happened to be. He was stalking her like a beast circling his prey. There was no doubt about it.
"I thought you went into the village, my lord."
"Had a bit of the headache, don't you know? Thought I would take a stroll about the gardens. And by George, you would never guess what I happened upon."
"You were eavesdropping?"
His dark eyes flashed a warning. "I never eavesdrop, Miss Garland. Women eavesdrop, my dear. Men... well, men hunt."
It took all Briana's effort to stay calm. "If you will excuse me—"
He clicked the door closed and strode toward her. "We find ourselves alone once again. How fitting, don't you think?"
Too fitting, she realized as she ignored his silent threat and tried to make her way quickly across the room. The blood pounded in her ears as she passed him. Did he have a key? Would he dare lock her in here? Or somewhere else?
Suddenly his arm swung out, imprisoning her in his grip. He put just enough pressure on her to keep her beside him. "It's no mere coincidence that I'm here, my dear. Our meetings were never by chance. You were to marry me. Me—do you hear me?"
His tone was velvety soft and edged with such anger she shivered. "All I have done up to now is for our future. Why couldn't you wait? Are you in love with the man? Do you find him better than me?"
She tossed her head back to glare at him. "My fiancé will be here any minute. You had best unhand me, sir."
A twisted smile spread across his face. "Well done, Briana. You have not disappointed me. You are as fiery as your hair. We will do nicely together."
The man was mad!
Kingsdale turned when the door swung open.
"Clayton," Briana said, her voice shaky. She sagged in relief as her fiancé walked into the room. But that relief was short-lived when she saw Clayton's hostile stance. It reeked of power and territorial domain. And the hardness in his gaze could not be mistaken. He was definitely angry.
"If you will please unhand my fiancée, Gregory, I will not have to shoot you." Clayton's voice cut through the eerie silence, and Briana was instantly released.
Kingsdale's gaze slid over her like a slow caress. "Only showing the lady what she lost, Clay. No harm done."
Clayton's eyes turned an icy blue. "It seems you have been trying a great deal of that lately. However, because I am to marry this lady within the hour, I would advise you not to show your face in my presence for the remainder of our stay here."
It suddenly occurred to Briana that Kingsdale had known exactly what he was doing all along. He knew Clayton was going to be here and see them together. The man was as slippery as a snake, and to her horror, his plan seemed to be working splendidly.
Kingsdale chuckled. "What a pitiful show of strength, Clayton. I thought you could do better than that. Besides, it was your fiancée who wanted me to meet with her."
He shot Briana a win
k as if between lovers, kissed her hand and departed from the room.
Briana held back a gasp. "I can explain," she said, hoping Clayton would return to the same man she had known in the garden.
His expression was thunderous. "Don't even try."
Briana's heart sank.
"I will meet you at church, Miss Garland. Whatever dealings we need to go over will happen after the marriage." He didn't give her any time to defend herself before he turned on his heel and strode from the room.
Within the hour, Briana was married by special license. Agatha, Violet, Lord Grimstoke and his wife were the only witnesses. The papers were signed and everyone returned to the mansion without further ado.
Clayton failed to mention the library incident at all. In fact, the vows were the only thing she heard him say the entire time they were at church. When they returned to Grimstoke Hall, the guests were delivered the news and an impromptu celebration took place immediately.
"I suppose we had you all fooled," Clayton said jovially, his hand on Briana's waist. "But my dear wife and I had been planning to wed for quite some time now. The archbishop's timely visit gave us the means to achieve what we thought to do at a later date."
"Why so quick about it?" one man exclaimed. "And by special license? Afraid of her mama?"
Clayton's clasp tightened. "We could not wait another day to be with each other." He turned to Briana. "Could we, dearest?"
Briana wanted to smack him. Instead she only smiled.
The crowd cheered and all were given a glass of champagne.
As the day dragged on, Briana felt trapped. She put on a happy face until later that evening when she and her new husband were standing alone in Clayton's bedchamber. The maids had quickly removed all her belongings to his room. Briana was at one corner, Clayton at the other when he turned to her, his deep violet eyes holding a glint of amusement.
Well, she didn't think this funny in the least. "You—you can sleep on the floor!"
Before she could speak another word, he crossed the room and took her shoulders in a gentle grip. "Come, Briana, I will not hurt you. But if we are to have a marriage with any hope for the future, you must trust me and I must trust you."
"Trust?" she said in a suffocating whisper. "What reason would you have not to trust me?" She blurted out the words before she thought about what she was saying. He didn't know about her work. He could never know about her work.
The Convenient Bride (The Clearbrooks) Page 19