A Convenient Bride

by Cheryl Ann Smith

  “Thank you,” Brenna replied.

  Lucy sent her one last glance for courage and followed Bethany out.

  Brenna removed her hat and sat it on a narrow settee. The sitting room shared the same yellow as the bedroom. In a moment of pique, she walked into the sitting room, pulled over a chair, and shoved it up under the door handle to the master’s chamber. If Richard intended to sneak in during the night and have his way with her, he had better reconsider. While she ached to share a bed again, she’d not do so until his attitude about her, and their baby, changed.

  “I will show him I am not some delicate daisy,” she grumbled, and glared at the door. “And I will make this marriage work…or expire trying.”

  She heard the maid arrive and sighed. “Stubborn man,” she whispered, and left the sitting room.

  It was nearly ten when Richard heard the maid leave his wife. Brenna moved around for a few minutes more before blowing out the lamp, extinguishing the thin patch of light under the door.

  He leaned against the headboard and listened intently for sounds, any sounds, coming from her room. Aside from the rustle of bedding as she moved on the bed, there was nothing.

  His cock twitched. The image of her, clad in only her bedclothes with her hair tumbling about her shoulders in coal-dark disarray, left him feverish. She was no longer hours away in London. Only footsteps separated them now. If he wanted to, he could take her as was his right. Damn his vow to keep her out of his bed.

  Dressed only in his boots, trousers, and shirt, his hands behind his head, he jerked his mind from thoughts of her naked and writhing beneath him and contemplated her news—news that in an instant had changed his life forever.

  Brenna. He should have known the minx couldn’t keep her part of the bargain. Only she would agree to end the marriage, then show up pregnant.

  A baby. They were having a baby. His heart clenched. Born too early for survival, his son had lived for only a few minutes while Millicent, who had lost so much blood, followed their son shortly thereafter. The midwife had done all she could to save them both, but the effort proved futile. Over the course of an afternoon, he’d lost them both.

  Now Brenna was carrying his child.

  How had he allowed that to happen? He’d been so careful with previous lovers. There were ways to prevent conception. The first virgin who finds her way into his bed gets with child on their first and only night together. And what a night it was. She’d upended his world and changed everything. Not a day had passed over the last month when he’d not thought of her in his arms. Now she was under his roof to torment him in person.

  He closed his eyes. Fate had dealt him a cruel hand.

  With effort, he pushed aside thoughts of what he’d lost and focused instead on what to do about Brenna. Knowing the stubborn chit as he did, she had a reason for coming, and it was not just about the babe. She had another agenda—he was certain of it.

  He stared at her closed door. He’d heard her drag the chair over and push it under the handle. The lady may have shown up unannounced with some unspoken plan for him, but she wasn’t ready to forgive him for his perceived misbehavior. He suspected over the next months he’d see more of her fiery temper.

  Unbidden images returned. Brenna naked in bed, her eyes smoky from lovemaking, her kisses on his chest, and a sultry smile etched on her mouth.

  He’d never seen anything so beautiful—and so dangerous. If he did not protect himself, in a short time she’d have him chasing after her like a besotted fool.

  Love had no place in marriage; he’d learned a harsh lesson there. Once a heart was engaged, pain followed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Morning came with sunshine on her face and the distant bleating of sheep. Brenna grumbled when the bleating came again. She rolled over and stretched, the scent of tea filling her senses.

  One lid lifted to find the curtains open and a tea tray sitting on a table by the bed. Though she couldn’t immediately find a clock, by the lack of full daylight, she assumed it was still early—far too early to get up. With a groan, she pulled the coverlet over her head. The sound of male voices drifted from the bedroom next door. Obviously, Richard awoke with the roosters—or the sheep—and expected the same from her. Otherwise, the curtains would be closed and the tea still downstairs in the pot.

  She’d have to convince him that the morning was for sleeping. She was on a London schedule; if he wanted to roam the dales with his sheep at sunrise, that was his concern. She’d sleep in until eleven.

  Pushing from the bed, she shivered when her feet hit the cold floor, and she grumbled, realizing that her slippers were not yet unpacked.

  Fall was arriving. Soon winter would be upon them. She wondered what it would be like confined here in the country all winter with her unhappy husband. The idea was dismal, indeed.

  Hurrying into the sitting room lest he leave without speaking to her, she removed the chair and pulled the door open, startling the valet. The man stood stock-still, a pair of uplifted shirts clutched in his hands.

  Richard was bare chested, his perfect chest golden in the sunlight. Unable to find her voice, she stared a bit too long. Her cheeks warmed.

  “Excuse us, Miles,” Richard said. The valet left, carrying the shirts.

  Crossing his arms, Richard leaned back on his heels. “Is there a reason you have invaded my room?”

  “I…I wanted to talk to you about an urgent matter.” He was too distracting as he was, half dressed. She swallowed deeply as her gaze dropped to his hands, his very skilled hands.

  “It could not wait until breakfast?”

  She tore her attention away from his hands and back to his face. She blinked. “It could not. I wish to be allowed to sleep in late. I am used to a certain schedule and find early rising unsatisfactory to my good health.”

  His mouth curled downward. “Is that true? Or could it be that living a pampered existence has made you lazy?”

  Her chin lifted. “I am not lazy!” She stepped into the room. “I have a full schedule: visits, charities, I even volunteer at a school.” He did not need to know she helped at a courtesan school. “Because I like to sleep to a reasonable hour does not make me lazy.”

  Richard grunted, and Brenna seethed. “Would you rather see me up to my knees in cow waste, milking from dawn to dusk until my hands are gnarled and my back stooped? Or plowing fields behind an ox until I drop dead from exhaustion? Would that prove I’m worth my keep?”

  His gaze drifted slowly down her and back up again. Was there a touch of humor in his eyes?

  “Were you not carrying my child, I’m certain we could find a cow or two needing milking.” He walked to her, his face blank. He ran a fingertip across the cream lace at the neckline of her nightdress. “If I see you so much as lift anything heavier than a teapot, I’ll paddle your perfect little rump.”

  Brenna’s breath caught. She watched his face as he looked down at her thinly covered breasts. There was heat in his eyes.

  Knowing he still wanted her brought some comfort. Passion was a powerful thing. He was unhappy with the pregnancy, and with her, but she had months to convince him this was not the disaster he anticipated. Passion might be the key to building closeness between them.

  First she desired to change the tone of this conversation. Arguing would get them nowhere and lead to more discord. She’d be pleasant even if it killed her.

  She squelched the image of her lying dead on the polished floor, having succumbed to death by good humor, and forced a smile.

  “Yes, My Lord.” She pushed onto her toes and pressed a kiss on his cheek. Spice tickled her senses as she spoke softly in his ear, “I promise to remain hale and hearty.”

  For a heartbeat, his hands came to rest on her hips. Brenna stepped out of reach. He needed to get used to her, and she’d not rush him. By the time the babe came, she vowed he’d be hers in both mind and heart.

  “I shall leave you to dress.” With that, she walked from the room and clo
sed the door behind her.

  She pressed her back to the panel and listened for a moment as he called for his valet. Her heart fluttered as his rich voice drifted through the door. She placed her hand over her flat abdomen and wondered if the babe would share her dark hair and green eyes or Richard’s fairer features and blue eyes.

  Either way, she already loved the little mite. “He will love you, too,” she whispered. “I promise.”

  Richard felt Brenna’s presence in his bedroom long after she returned through the sitting room. The softness of her mouth on his face and the feel of her hips beneath his hands left his emotions muddled.

  Why did Brenna, and Brenna alone, possess the ability to encompass his mind and give him no peace? He’d once lived a rogue’s life and bedded many women, moving on after the passion waned, without a single qualm.

  Even now, if pressed, he couldn’t think of one woman, outside of Millicent, who’d shared his bed who stood out as particularly memorable. And he’d been with some celebrated beauties. Why, then, did it have to be Walter’s virgin daughter who knocked him free of his determination to live the life of a quiet country bachelor?

  Oh, right. He’d seduced her and got her with child. If anything was made to ruin carefully laid plans, it was that.

  “Now that I have you, what am I to do with you?” he grumbled, under his breath.

  “My Lord?” Miles paused from brushing off his coat.

  “It’s nothing, Miles.” He sighed and glanced at the closed sitting-room door. “I was talking to myself.”

  The valet followed his gaze. “You do seem distracted this morning. Her ladyship’s unexpected arrival has the household in a dither. The fact that there is a Lady Ashwood at all has come as quite a shock to everyone.”

  Richard turned back to Miles. “It was unexpected to me, too.” What to tell the man? If the staff knew the truth about the marriage, it might undermine Brenna’s position here. He could not have that. It was better to let them believe the marriage a love match. “I fear I was taken with the lady at first sight. What could I do but marry her?”

  Miles nodded slowly, clearly not convinced. Richard had long vowed to never wed again. His valet knew his feelings more than anyone else who lived under this roof.

  “I do find it odd that we are just now learning of her, when by my calculations, the wedding had to have happened sometime during your search for the still missing Lady Anne,” Miles remarked. “One would think the joyous news would be brought to us, before her ladyship showed up at our door last evening with her luggage, and companion, in tow. It’s almost as if the marriage were meant to be kept secret.”

  Richard frowned. Miles was teetering on the edge of crossing some servant-employer barrier. Still, he could not fault the man for his observation. It was correct.

  “My wife needed time to explain this unexpected marriage to her family and to come to terms with it herself. The whirlwind nature of the matter left her a bit off-kilter. And as her devoted husband, I was willing to wait.”

  He expected Miles wanted to call the explanation utter rubbish. His face said the words he couldn’t mutter aloud, out of respect for his position. However, Richard knew his valet. Though the man might think the story a lie, he’d do whatever he could to smooth Brenna’s transition into the household.

  Miles nodded soberly. “You are truly a most understanding husband, Milord.”

  Richard took note of Miles’s struggle to keep his sober expression, and then smiled at the valet. The matter was settled between them. Miles would keep his curiosity to himself.

  “I shall introduce my lady to the staff at breakfast,” Richard said, as Miles helped him into his coat. “If you’ll assemble in the breakfast room, I shall fetch my wife.”

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  Though expecting the sitting-room door to be barricaded, he was pleased to find he’d not have to knock. A man should never find the door to his wife’s bedroom locked.

  To his surprise, she was not abed but dressing for the day.

  Brenna stood in her chemise and corset, her breasts pushed up to an enticing degree, while the maid was making ready to pull a pale blue gown over her head. Brenna raised her silky white arms over her head. The motion further threatened to send her breasts toppling over her corset.

  His breath caught, his eyes eagerly waiting. But it was not to be. Her damned undergarments worked far too well.

  Tearing his eyes from those perfect mounds, he continued exploring her body with his hungry gaze. In spite of her condition, she was still a slip of a girl. There was no sign of the babe in the curves he remembered, most vividly, exploring.

  She lifted her hem to adjust her stocking, and he roused beneath his trousers. All too quickly, she dropped the hem. His disappointment tugged at his cock.

  The presence of the maid proved to be a blessing. Seducing Brenna was the very last thing he should be doing. A marriage of convenience could not be accomplished if he was making love to his wife.

  It took a moment to realize Brenna was watching him in the mirror while the maid buttoned her into the dress. The amusement in her pretty eyes told him she knew exactly where his thoughts were. The slight bulge in his breeches was further confirmation.

  He cleared his throat. “I have come to take you to breakfast. Will you be finished soon?”

  “I will have the lady ready in a moment, My Lord.” The woman worked with quiet efficiency, and as promised, Brenna was ready before he had the chance to grow impatient. “You look lovely, My Lady.”

  “Thank you, Agnes.” She smoothed the bodice, bringing Richard’s eyes back to the place. “Can you bring Lucy down to the breakfast room? I fear she will get lost without assistance.”

  The maid curtsied. “Yes, Milady.”

  Richard waited for the maid to leave before speaking. “Do companions not usually eat with the staff?”

  Brenna turned away from the mirror. “Lucy is more than a companion; she is my dear friend. If she is not welcome at your table, I shall eat with her in the kitchen.”

  Neither marriage nor impending motherhood had clipped her claws. If anything, she was more stubborn than he remembered.

  This was one small battle he’d not fight. He’d save his ammunition for the bigger skirmishes he suspected were ahead. “I will not have my wife dining in the kitchen. Your Lucy will eat with us.”

  She smiled, and he felt the warmth from across the room. “Thank you, Richard.”

  She walked to him, her hips swaying. The sunlight from the window framed her in light, and his cock tightened again. She was a delectable piece who strained his willpower.

  Damn his vow of celibacy. For a moment, he reconsidered taking her. It wasn’t as if he could get her with child. He’d already done that deed. Still, if they were to live separate lives after the baby arrived, he needed to practice controlling his baser needs now.

  “You must learn to dress more quickly. I hate to wait for my breakfast.” He took her arm and felt her stiffen.

  “Agnes is an excellent lady’s maid,” Brenna snapped. “I’ll not have you cause her to fret with your impatience. If you’d like to breakfast by yourself, I will be more than willing to sleep until after the sun rises.”

  Richard cocked a brow and peered down at her. “I think you need to learn to follow my directives, as a compliant wife should.”

  She held his stare. “Truly? And at what point during our short time together did you ever find me compliant? I think you have confused me with another woman.”

  He snorted. “Your father should not have spared the switch when he could have beaten the insufferable tartness out of you, before it became forever part of your troublesome nature.”

  Smiling wickedly, she leaned against his arm. “Interesting that you find me so difficult, Husband. Why, just two weeks ago, a man kissed me in the corner of a darkened terrace. He did not find me the least bit troublesome.”

  Brenna watched his face cloud. She knew she was treading into muddy
waters, but he’d piqued her temper. She was troublesome and stubborn and outspoken. She did not need him to point it out, as if the three were negatives.

  She could not be shy and sweet and simpering. And she suspected that, in spite of his protests to the contrary, Richard would not be happy with her as a scared little mouse.

  “When you were playing the coquette for the rogue, did you consider the vows we took?” He stopped her at the top of the staircase. “Or were you too taken with his insipid poetry and the moonlight to think about our marriage?”

  “Of all the—! Oh! You are insufferable!” She forced her voice down. “You did not want to marry me. You never wanted to marry at all. And you were happy to send me off to find another husband so you could be free. Now that I have done my best to replace you, you have the audacity to judge me for trying to take myself out of your life?”

  Brenna stepped back, wanting to get away from him, when she caught her heel on the edge of the staircase. She wobbled and cried out as the floor beneath her foot fell away.

  She saw the horror in Richard’s face as she tumbled backward. The world became a blur. But her near fall down the stairs ended with his hands grabbing her arms. He jerked her against his chest.

  Beneath her ribs, her heart pounded as the terror of the moment caught her in its grip. She let out a small sob as she clutched his shirt and held tight.

  “I’m sorry, Brenna. So sorry,” he said into her hair, his strong arms holding her tight, his heart racing beneath his rib cage.

  “I could have lost the baby,” she sobbed into his shirt. “I cannot lose the baby.”

  “No, love,” he shushed her. “The baby is safe; you are unhurt. When I saw you falling backward—” The rest of his thought was left unsaid. He kissed her forehead, his breathing unsteady.

  Brenna saw the hurt, the fear, in his eyes. For the first time she understood the heartbreaking moment when he’d lost his family, felt the grief that had taken him to that very dark place, where her father had found and rescued him.