A Convenient Bride

by Cheryl Ann Smith

  Brenna’s story was not so dissimilar. She, too, had been abandoned shortly after her marriage.

  At least Lucy’s husband was returning for her.

  Annoyed with herself for thinking of him at all, Brenna pulled in a deep breath for control. “Well, I am pleased you are here. It would be dreadfully dull without you.”

  Lucy smiled. “Miss Eva told me you’d be coming. We shall shop, help ready the household for the new courtesans, and tend the garden. Perhaps even stroll through the museums? Franklin left me funds enough to have a fine time.”

  “It sounds splendid,” Brenna said, her spirits lifting. There was no better companion than Lucy to keep her distracted.

  And for the next three weeks, Brenna spent her days at the school and her nights searching for a husband. Between the two, she was exhausted. Still, she dragged herself each day to Cheapside, determined to keep busy.

  “I cannot go out today,” she complained to Lucy, as the former courtesan tried to tug her from the settee after Brenna had drifted off during a conversation about fabrics.

  With each day that passed, she found it harder and harder to get out of bed. In fact, she wouldn’t have arrived at the school before noon at all if it weren’t for Lucy’s insistence that she needed Brenna to keep her from perishing from boredom in the quiet town house.

  “It is almost noon,” Lucy said, tightening her grip. “I have never seen you so weary. Perhaps you should feign a headache tonight and get some rest. Surely the parties will go on without you?”

  “Perhaps you should go alone today, and I can nap now. My former room is empty. Sophie would not mind if I slept for a few hours here,” Brenna suggested, and tried to put a pillow over her head, as if that would deter her friend. But she had to try. Her body craved sleep. “You are capable of choosing a frock without me. Just do not choose yellow. It is a horrid color on you.”

  Lucy finally relinquished Brenna’s arm. “You have yawned your way through the last few days and almost fell asleep in the coach yesterday. Your father can certainly give you one night off from your husband search.”

  Though Lucy knew Brenna was husband hunting, she did not know that Brenna was Lady Brenna, daughter of an earl.

  “If only I could. My father is determined to see me wed. My days of finding a suitable suitor are dwindling. I cannot pass up a single party or poetry reading or ball, lest I miss the man I’ve been searching for my whole life.” Brenna was having very little luck with her suitors. Not one of the dozen or so men she’d allowed to call had enticed her to anything but boredom. And she only had a week left to either find her perfect mate or summon up a suitable argument to convince Father to give her more time.

  “It isn’t as though you aren’t trying,” Lucy offered. She twirled a curl. “You should take me to the next party. I am an excellent judge of character. I’m sure I can find you a suitable match.”

  “If only I could.” Brenna knew that taking a former courtesan to a society party was not an acceptable idea. Not only would Lucy discover her identity, but if anyone recognized Lucy from her former profession, Brenna would be ruined.

  There were far too many rules to follow, too many ways to be ruined. Sometimes Brenna wished she was not of lofty birth.

  She finally gave in to Lucy’s pleading. “Help me up, and we will find something pretty for you to wear for your husband’s homecoming.” With a glad cry, Lucy pulled her from the settee. Brenna felt the room waver.

  “Oh, dear.” She dropped back on the cushion, her hand pressed to her forehead. “I fear I stood too quickly.”

  “You must be with child,” Lucy teased. “My mother had six girls. She was always dizzy and tired when carrying a babe.” She giggled and fanned Brenna with her hand.

  “Oh, dear. Me with child?” Brenna repeated. Then her heart skipped. Could it be? She hadn’t had her monthly course since three weeks before she’d bedded Richard, and it had been three weeks since that night. If she was with child, it was very early, not quite a month. “How early can a woman know she’s been caught?”

  Lucy shrugged. “My mother swore she knew the moment of conception with each of us, though most women know within two or three weeks after they miss their flow.”

  Closing her eyes, Brenna pressed her hands over her eyes and squelched a groan. Damn Richard and his bold, male seed. The crushing weight of the prospect of being pregnant with his child sent a tremor of fright through her veins.

  She pressed her hands to her face, both stunned and terrified by the revelation. If she was pregnant, there would be no annulment. A baby changed everything.

  “I should have known the virile bastard would not need more than one night to settle his offspring on me.” When she realized she’d spoken aloud, her breath caught, and she darted a glance at Lucy. It was too late to take the comment back.

  Lucy crossed the room, surprise on her face. “How can you be with child? I thought you had no prospects? Did you allow a footman to take liberties? A groom? A steward? Some of those men can charm their way under your skirts before you realize they have their hand untying your garters.”

  Brenna made a sound, half laugh, half groan. There was no reason to hide the truth anymore. “Oh, it is worse than all that. The father is a lord. And he’s my husband.”

  You are a scandalous flirt, Clive.” Bethany giggled. She twirled her hair and glanced sidelong at Richard. “I’d guess you’ve left many broken hearts in your wake. I must take care to protect mine.”

  Richard ignored Bethany’s obvious attempts to engage his interest. Three days ago she’d snuck into his room when he was abed, stolen a kiss, and been soundly rejected. Now she was trying another tactic that would also fail. He did not like games and was not interested in that certain piece of fluff.

  He turned to Miriam. “I understand you have painted a picture of the north pond. Perhaps you can show it to me after supper?”

  Miriam flushed. She was his late wife’s cousin and had been foisted off on him two years ago by her social-climbing mother, who hoped he would fall in love with her daughter and make her his viscountess. Instead, she’d become a friend.

  “I would like that very much.”

  The differences between Miriam and her friend Bethany could not be more pronounced; one was quiet and sweet natured, and the other a bold flirt. He much preferred the former.

  Added to the mix was Bethany’s brother, George, who did nothing of note and seemed content to live off Richard’s good graces. He should toss the pair out on their collective ears, but he did not want to hurt his friendship with Miriam.

  So he let them stay, hoping one day they’d tire of Beckwith Hall and leave on their own.

  A trill of laughter drew his attention back to George and his friends: Clive Everhart, Silas Gimsby, and Lord Ponteby. Bethany had the attention of all the young bucks, and Richard silently hoped one would propose to the girl and run off with her. Her eyes on him told him he would not be so blessed.

  If only he could tell them of his marriage. That would instantly take him off the list of eligible bachelors in the park and give him peace. But he could not.

  His mind drifted to Brenna, as it often did, and he wondered if she’d found her next husband. He thought it unlikely, as he’d not received a note requesting an annulment.

  For some reason, this pleased him, though he knew he should be eagerly checking the mail every day for her post. He did not want the marriage any more than she did. The sooner it was over, the sooner he could be rid of her haunting presence, a constant shadow over his life.

  He could still taste her lush mouth, remember her scent, and feel the way her body fit his so perfectly. Though he tried to eject her from his mind, he could not. She’d taken hold and refused to release him. Perhaps he should take a lover, a widow with no hopes for marriage. Yet somehow he could not take that step while his wife was still his wife. The thought of betraying Brenna left him with a sour taste in his mouth.

  “Would you care to shar
e your thoughts, Richard?” Miriam interrupted his musings. “You’ve been quiet of late. Well, quieter than usual.”

  Smiling, he nodded. “I’ve not been a very attentive host,” he agreed. “My mind has been occupied elsewhere.”

  Miriam scanned his face. “A woman perhaps?”

  Richard met her gaze. Was it that obvious? “There is no woman. My mind is on business.” The half truth came easily. Brenna was gone forever, and soon he would be free. “I have a small property in Kent that I’m selling, and I should know soon if the buyer has agreed to my price.”

  Whether she believed him or not, Miriam was too polite to question him. She was properly raised and would never consider proposing to a highwayman or chasing a runaway young woman all the way to Scotland. In truth, she was the perfect companion and would make an excellent wife.

  Just not his.

  Good lord, Daughter. You are with child?” Father’s face reddened, and Mother dropped onto the settee. The shock in their eyes and gaping mouths were to be expected. Brenna had known Lucy’s surprise would be nothing compared to what she’d face from her parents. In fact, she’d waited another week, hoping desperately for her flow to appear, before sadly accepting her fate.

  “When did this happen? How will we explain your condition?” Father continued. “If we cannot arrive at a plausible explanation, you’ll be ruined.”

  “It is not as grim as it seems, Father.” The sight of her father’s disappointment pushed down on her already exhausted shoulders. “There is much that I have not yet explained. The father will accept the child.”

  “You are correct there, miss,” he said, the bloom of outrage in his voice. “Whoever the rogue is, I’ll see him horsewhipped and wed before sunset.”

  “Walter, please,” Mother pleaded. She pulled Brenna down beside her and clasped her hand. “Let us speak of this rationally. We will save horsewhipping until Brenna has told us her story.”

  Father was not about to calm himself. Brenna slid closer to Mother until they were nearly one. The comforting hand was a lifeline she clung to. Mother would see her come to no harm, figuratively speaking, from facing her father’s anger.

  “I knew something was wrong when she went missing. Now we know why.” Father ignored Brenna and spoke directly to Mother. “She was not with Primrose. She was traipsing all over who-knows-where with some scoundrel. And now he has stolen her innocence and left her carrying his bastard. I think horsewhipping should be the least of his worries.”

  Overwhelmed and overwrought, Brenna felt the sudden irrational urge to laugh. She’d married and given her parents the grandchild they’d wanted. Still, she’d made such a muddle of things that none of the three of them had cause to celebrate.

  Perhaps she should finish the tale before her father’s heart suffered a fatal seizure.

  “There is no need to call the parson, Father.” Brenna braced herself. There would no longer be a secret marriage. The hunt for her perfect mate was over. “I am already wed.”

  “What?” Mother gasped. Father stopped pacing.

  Brenna nodded. “We wed in Scotland. It is a marriage of convenience, brought by his guilt over seducing me and the worry he may have gotten me with child.” Brenna shook her head. Richard had cursed her by speaking aloud of his fear of impregnating her. “His concern has come to fruition.”

  Father stood frozen in place for several ticks of the clock. Mother stared at Brenna, worry on her face.

  Finally, he said, “Tell me who he is, Daughter.”

  For a moment Brenna considered lying to him. She knew that her decision would ruin a friendship and risk Richard’s life. Father was that angry. He would see Richard as having betrayed him. And Richard…he valued Father’s friendship. The loss would affect him deeply.

  “You have to promise not to kill him,” she begged. “I do not want to raise this child alone.”

  “I cannot make that guarantee,” Father said. His hands closed into fists.

  Even now, Brenna knew her father was thinking of the worst possible way to make the man who ruined his child suffer.

  “Then I will not tell you,” she said, with a stubborn lift of her chin. “I will just vanish, and you will never see me again.”

  “Walter,” Mother said. “The man did right by her. He married her. Can you not consider that his penance?”

  “And where is this pillar of manhood, this man who married my daughter and left her bearing the burden of his child? If he is such a fine man, why is he not here standing at her side, instead of letting her face my wrath alone?”

  “I’m certain he has his reasons.”

  Both her parents stared at her. How could she explain without making the situation worse? “We realized rather quickly that we are not well suited. We both thought it best to keep our lives separate.”

  “Are you jesting?” Father said. “You thought you could keep this secret forever? What if you wanted to marry someone else? Would you have two husbands?”

  “Father. I would never allow it to go that far. I would have had to confess then or secretly have the marriage annulled.” She placed her hand on her stomach. “Clearly, there is no need for such measures now. The marriage will stand. The child will be claimed by his father. He has no choice.”

  “See, all will be well,” Mother said softly. “Brenna is a wife, and soon she will be a mother.” She kept her tone light. “Is that not what we have always wished for her?”

  “At the moment, all I want is to know the name of the man who is responsible for this situation. I can only pray that he is not some penniless bounder of low character.”

  “Father, I am not so weak-minded as to fall for someone like that.”

  “Then who is he?”

  She had no recourse but to be honest. So she sat straight on the cushioned surface of the settee, summoned up her courage, and looked directly into her father’s eyes. “My husband is Richard Ellerby.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I’ll kill him.” Father’s voice was so low that it took Brenna a moment to realize what he said. Mother was quicker.

  “Walter, be reasonable,” she said. “The deed has been done, and they are wed. We must look at this as a positive outcome. Our daughter is married to a fine man, and we will soon have a grandchild. This is excellent news.”

  “That reprobate ruined her,” Father said. “He was my friend, and he did not hesitate to take advantage of my child.”

  “I am certain that Brenna had a hand in some of this,” Mother replied, frowning at Brenna. “At least he is not a pirate.”

  Mother—always the reasonable one.

  “When did this happen?” Father continued unabated. “Did he take you in the coach on the day you met? Was his letter a ruse to cover his misdeeds?”

  “No, Father. He did not touch me then.” How could Brenna explain this? She wrung her hands. “When you pressed me to find a husband, I thought he’d be perfect for a marriage of convenience. When I went to find him at Beckwith Hall, he was gone, on his way to Scotland to find his sister. I chased him down and insisted he take me with him.”

  “See, Walter, Brenna was equally responsible for what happened,” Mother said.

  “Tell me everything,” Father pressed ahead.

  “I made him a proposal. If I helped him find Anne, he would marry me. Unfortunately, we did not find Anne and were victims of a robbery. When we took shelter at this ghastly inn to tend our wounds, well, something happened—” Her voice caught. The rest of the story was too shameful to admit. “We married in Scotland.”

  “You were robbed?” Mother pressed a hand to her heart.

  “We were.” Brenna nodded. “Richard killed a man to save me from being kidnapped.”

  “Good lord.” Father shook his head. “Could this get any worse?”

  “The situation is more complicated than you think, Father,” Brenna said. “Richard is an honorable man. I’m married and saved from disgrace.” “Honorable” was carefully chosen to keep
Father from going off to Beckwith Hall and strangling her husband. Brenna had different, less kind words for the man, her husband.

  Husband and wife, that they would stay. There was no other way. Once society discovered her pregnancy, the news would be out, and she’d have to explain her actions. Her friends would be shocked, though not overly so. They considered her a rule breaker. The rest of the Ton, well, she did not give a fig what they thought.

  Her hand slid down to her flat belly. She had greater concerns now than her reputation. She was to be a mother. This terrified her more than facing the wrath of her father.

  “He married and abandoned her,” Father was saying, when Brenna returned her attention to the conversation.

  “We both know Richard,” Mother interjected. “He does not race around England seducing young innocents. I am certain he has an explanation for what he’s done, and we will hear of it soon enough. For now, we need to decide what is best for Brenna and the babe.”

  Brenna stood. She crossed her arms and faced her parents with firm resolve. “The decision is mine, and I have made it. Tomorrow I leave for Beckwith Hall. It is time to take my place as Richard’s wife.”

  “I think that is best,” Mother said, before Father could voice his opinion. She smiled. “I cannot believe I’m to be a grandmother.” She glanced at Father. “And you a grandfather. What a blessing.”

  Father grumbled under his breath. “The only blessing here should be for Ashwood’s continued good health. If he mistreats my child, he will know the full wrath of an outraged father.”

  “Yes, dear,” Mother said, with a wink at Brenna. “I know just the right story to spread about this unexpected marriage.” She rubbed her hands together. “We shall tell everyone that you and Richard met last January when we were in Brighton for the holidays. He was instantly smitten, but you were not yet ready to accept his suit. When he discovered you were with Primrose, he took the opportunity to see you again, away from the protective eyes of your overbearing father.” She smiled at Father. “It was then that you realized you desperately loved Richard, could not wait to be married, and ran off to Gretna Green.”