The Bridal Contract (Darrington family Book 3)

by Sandra Sookoo

  Seconds later, he and Eloisa entered the elegantly appointed dining room, and immediately, the drone of voices and laughter halted. Graves set another place with bone china and silverware while his siblings stared at him with shock and pleasure.

  “Oliver!” His sister, Charlotte, was the first to wrench from the trance. She stood so quickly, her chair wobbled, saved from crashing to the floor by a blond man with a brooding countenance. “I’m so happy you’ve returned.” She engulfed him in a floral-scented hug that nearly crushed the breath from him. “You must tell me all about your adventures,” she enthused as she tugged him to an empty chair.

  “I apologize for missing your nuptials,” Oliver said. A twinge went through his heart. Out of all his siblings, he was closest to Charlotte and had always exchanged confidences with her. In childhood, they’d bedeviled their brother together and accepted, then ultimately rejected, his lectures. “Felix wrote me a letter that rather lacked copious details explaining your circumstances, but I am surprised to see you back in Town.”

  “Oh, Ravenhurst and I decided to come up as he has business to attend and I didn’t wish to miss out on this dinner. Soon enough we’ll return to the country estate. It’s ever so much quieter there, which is just fine for the pursuits we both enjoy.” The look she bestowed on her husband brimmed with such heat and passion, Oliver had to glance away.

  Did she have no decorum at all? He peered down the table at his mother.

  Roberta had remained seated, of course. No way would the matriarch of the Darrington clan come to the prodigal son. She looked upon the proceedings with pinched lips and high color in her pale cheeks, but her rich, auburn hair gleamed in the candlelight and the handful of silver strands made her seem regal. No doubt his late arrival had disrupted her reign.

  Ravenhurst rose. “Pardon my wife’s enthusiasm.” Well, he did bear the chilly attitude for which he was famed. How the devil had he won Charlotte’s hand? Wasn’t there something about an evergreen maze involved? He nodded at Eloisa. “Miss Hawthorne. How lovely to see you in London again. It’s been a few months since we last met.”

  “Yes, and he and I had a falling out over the rumor of you,” Charlotte interrupted.

  This man knew Eloisa? Oliver frowned as he pulled himself from his sister’s grasp in order to look at his fiancée in name only. A pretty blush stained her cheeks. “How do you know her, Ravenhurst?”

  “Pish posh, Oliver. Do manage not to be so jealous,” Eloisa purred as she moved to embrace the fellow. Botheration. And where did she learn to make that husky sound that did strange things to his insides? And why wasn’t she employing it on him? The hulking brute completely engulfed her petite form, which caused Oliver to fight off the unpleasant sensation of wanting to plant the man a facer. “This is Nathan, Marquess of Ravenhurst, of course.”

  “Ah, yes,” Felix butted in. “Our neighbor in Brighton a couple doors down.”

  The marquess inclined his head then pinned Oliver with an arrogant look. “This is so, but then your family is scarcely down at the sea, so why would you remember easily, Tralsburg?”

  Before Oliver could add a comment of his own, Eloisa rushed on. “Even Ravenhurst doesn’t visit Brighton much anymore. How lovely you’ve married.”

  Ravenhurst nodded. “That talk we had in the snow—”

  “Snow?” Oliver interjected. How close was Eloisa to this man and why the devil was she gadding about in the snow with him?

  “I happened upon him in London this past winter,” Eloisa explained but made no effort to glance his way.

  The marquess cleared his throat and continued as if Oliver hadn’t interrupted. “That talk made all the difference, so I suppose I should thank you for having a hand in my match.” When he smiled, it brightened his features and temporarily banished the stodgy man he’d been minutes ago.

  “Then I’m even gladder. A man shouldn’t be without romance in his life.” She smiled at the company. “Hello. I suppose since Oliver won’t remember his manners, I’ll do the necessary. I’m Miss Eloisa Hawthorne, and I’m—”

  “Here as my guest,” Oliver rushed in. Gah, this habit of interrupting dinner conversation was poor form. Surely his mother would admonish him soon. He wasn’t quite ready to reveal his startling news. “Why don’t you sit, my dear?” Not wishing her to settle near the marquess, even though he wouldn’t be a threat if that frown on Charlotte’s face was any indication, Oliver urged Eloisa into the chair he’d previously been led to, which was on his mother’s left. “I’m anxious to get acquainted with everyone again.”

  His brother, Felix, who’d been standing at the edges of the reunion, came forward with a hand extended. He’d styled his dark hair much like their father once wore, and the chain of his pocket watch caught the light in a glimmer of silver. It had once belonged to their father, and Oliver well recalled watching him spin it at his desk when Parliament particularly troubled him. He’d always coveted that piece of jewelry, yet there it was in his brother’s pocket. “Welcome home, brother. I’ve missed having you about.” After shaking hands, he gestured to the only empty chair. “We’re just about to sit down to Cook’s wonderful roast beef, but perhaps you should greet Mother first. Wouldn’t want her to have a fit before the soup course. That look alone could freeze our food.” He resumed his seat by a pretty, dark-haired woman seated on their mother’s right.

  She must be Felix’s wife, Clarice. He couldn’t wait to engage her in conversation. Yes, I must go and appease Mother before she gobbles us all up. He tucked his errant feelings of sibling rivalry away. They didn’t have any bearing, really. He didn’t need jewelry or things to be content in life.

  He traversed the length of the dining room just as Graves instructed one of the footmen to bring out the soup. When Oliver reached his mother’s chair, he snatched her hand and bowed low over it in an old-fashioned gesture. Her skin seemed more fragile than the last time he’d held it. “Forgive me for being away so long, Mother. At least I’m here now for the time being. Surely that should earn me favor.”

  “You could have at least shaved. Such a wild look isn’t proper,” was her only greeting.

  He clenched his jaw. After a few silent seconds, he forced himself to relax. “You, of all of us, should know I’m not exactly the most proper of the Darrington siblings. I rather prefer the roguish appearance.”

  “So I can see.” She unbent enough to incline her head and smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses and returned to London. Now, if you’ll only stay long enough for me to—”

  “Manipulate me into going to routs and balls? No thank you.” He planted a kiss on his mother’s knuckles that smelled of rosewater then came back down the table, where he finally took the only empty seat at the table, which was opposite his mother at the far side. He remembered the parties thrown here when his father had been alive. The servants would oftentimes add three or four inserts to the table and it would grow in length. Such a long, highly polished piece of furniture he and Felix used to play under unless they got caught by Graves. “And thank you, by the way, for the plethora of letters I found waiting for me the second I set foot in the Brighton house. I could almost say that I’d been sorely missed until I read the contents.”

  Roberta waved away his comment. “I’m a mother who only wants what’s best for her children.”

  Oliver didn’t reply. Was now the time to reveal his engagement? He waited until everyone had been served the creamy asparagus soup. Just as he opened his mouth to make the announcement, Felix cleared his throat.

  “Now that everyone is back in the fold—”

  “Except your sister, Lauren,” Roberta interjected. “That girl simply will not leave Darrington Hall, no matter the enticements I offer.” She blew on a spoonful of soup. “I’m afraid she has no notion of how to conduct herself as a lady of breeding. She’ll always be a hoyden and that will prevent her from making a good match.”

  “There are worse
things than being mired in Kent,” Charlotte replied. Her hair gleamed a burnished copper.

  Felix rapped on the tabletop. “If I may talk?” He looked around the table, making certain his gaze connected with each person present. “Since we’re all here, excepting Lauren, I thought it would be an auspicious occasion to announce some news.” He focused on his wife and a wide grin touched his lips. “Clarice, my love, if you will do the honors?”

  “Thank you, cherie.” Despite their gathering, she leaned into him and dropped a kiss on his lips while Roberta’s frown deepened.

  Oliver shot a surprised glance to Eloisa, but she was too busy staring in rapture at the couple. Did all women think about nothing except romance and love?

  When Clarice looked around the table, her dark eyes sparkled. A mischievous smile touched her rosy lips. “I have made a decision regarding my grandfather’s legacy.”

  What was this? Oliver frowned. This was what happened when he hadn’t attended a family function for so long. He swirled his spoon through his soup. And another reason he’d stayed away. The awkward outside-looking-in feeling currently residing in his gut wasn’t pleasant.

  “I have decided, thanks to the urging from my husband and my dearest friend Charlotte,” Clarice turned her full grin on his sister, “that I will officially claim my dead grandfather’s title and become the Comtesse d’Auvergne in my fancy only. Yes, I understand that no one will officially recognize me in this capacity and that even my mother couldn’t have claimed the title, but it is the principle of thing.” She nodded, happiness lining her face. “This is a defunct title, yes as there are no more male relatives to carry the line, and it comes with no land or fortune behind it, but I wanted to have something to remember him by. I wanted to keep him alive somehow even if it holds no bearing to anyone except me.”

  Eloisa’s lips formed an “o” of awe. “I gather this is something you’ve been grappling with for a long while. Why did you decide to claim it now?”

  “I wished to leave a legacy of my own.” She patted her belly and consulted Felix. At his slight nod, she continued, “I will give birth in early August to our first child. I wish for the babe to know one shouldn’t be ashamed or afraid of their heritage, like I was before I met Felix.”

  “How wonderful!” Charlotte exclaimed and once more shot out of her seat.

  Roberta unbent enough to touch Clarice’s arm. “I’m glad to hear that, dear, yet you should not have mentioned it at dinner and in polite company. I’d like to hope the infant won’t come early, but I fear it will.” She sniffed as if to say “I told you so.” “However, we will do what we can to deflect that information. You shall go to Darrington Hall soon.”

  Across the table, Oliver gaped at his relatives. Had the world gone mad? When was it ever proper to discuss such things? A babe? A title a female could never claim anyway? He caught Eloisa’s eye. She smiled and shrugged as the female chatter rose in volume. A hint of annoyance passed through him. This was supposed to be the night he made a sensation with his family. Now, Felix stole the stage, same as he always had while growing up.

  During a lull in the noise, he rose then cleared his throat. His stomach churned. This would surely cause an uproar. “It would see this is a grand day for announcements.” Once everyone at the table looked at him, he allowed a small grin. “I, too, have something I wish to tell my dear family.” He sought out Eloisa’s green gaze. Gentle humor lurked in her eyes and bolstered his courage. “Just a few days ago, Miss Hawthorne and I agreed to an engagement.”

  Charlotte squealed and clapped her hands. “How wonderful, but I don’t see a ring. Never say you’re having us on.”

  “We decided not to make use of that tradition,” he continued, smooth as silk. Though he did glance at that particular finger on Eloisa’s dainty hand and his chest tightened. What would it be like to see the evidence of his claim? He shook his head, again reminding himself this was naught but a farce. “Our relationship doesn’t need baubles.”

  This time, Roberta laid her spoon on the tablecloth. “Is that so?” Her lips formed a thin line. “Do you think that’s wise? You’ve been back in England scarcely a week. You don’t know any woman well enough to make an offer.”

  The annoyance deepened into anger. Why shouldn’t he wish to align himself with any woman he pleased? He lifted an eyebrow as he stared down his mother. “Oh, did that news shock you, Mother? I do apologize, but there is rather a lack of etiquette around the table tonight. Perhaps I should come clean with all of it.” He took a deep drink of his red wine. Then as he set the glass on the table, he said, “I also have a daughter, who was delivered upon my doorstep the very day I arrived in Brighton. She’s a by-blow from my Spanish mistress, yet not fathered by me, and though I haven’t decided if I’d like to raise her, for the time being she’s living with me at the Brighton property. Her name is Daniela, in case you had wondered.”

  He calmly reseated himself to dead silence. Every pair of eyes rested on him. And he stared them all down, firm in his resolve. This was his life, however sordid and dramatic it may be. “Would anyone like to ask questions before the main course arrives?”

  “Young man,” Roberta began. All color fled from her face and she fairly vibrated with anger. “I will deal with you in private after dinner concludes. I will not stand by and let you ruin your chances with all that you’ve revealed tonight.”

  “I haven’t ruined anything. With Eloisa by my side to guide me in the care and upbringing of the child, what could go wrong? She’s already shown an interest in Daniela and the girl adores her. It’s a perfect situation.” Oliver nodded. It was, actually. If he had to go and hadn’t decided what to do with Daniela, could he leave the girl with Eloisa?

  “I’m not a commodity, Oliver, and neither is the child,” Eloisa said in a quiet voice.

  Apparently not. “Well, everything is all very new. I’m certain we’ll work out the knots.”

  “Marriage can’t be considered lightly,” his sister interjected.

  He frowned. “Charlotte, will you treat me like a pariah?” It hurt that his favorite sibling would find fault with his life.

  His sister shook her head as she avoided his gaze. “You know I love to support a hopeless cause, but the news of a child shocks even me.” She raised her blue gaze to his. “Do you even care what this announcement will do to our reputation, of Felix’s position, of mine?”

  Of course he hadn’t thought past making a scene. Always, there was the earldom to consider, and apparently, there was Charlotte’s reputation now that she’d wed Ravenhurst. Botheration. Never had he felt more acutely as if he looked inside from the other side of a window. He shuttled his attention to Eloisa, the woman he’d dropped into the middle of this mess. Instead of appearing lost, a tiny smile flirted with her kissable mouth. Kissable? What a surprising thought. How curious, and of course he wouldn’t act on it. No doubt it was an aftereffect from the dinner. Some sort of desperate need to have what his siblings had. Yet, if he didn’t know better, he’d say she was enjoying herself. The corners of his lips pulled upward with an answering smile, but she remained silent as the soup dishes were cleared away. Perhaps they’d be a team, back to back, fighting off Roberta together with shocking scandals of their own.

  It wasn’t until Graves brought out the roast beef that Oliver reminded himself his engagement to Eloisa was only temporary and would last less than thirty days—and they’d already wasted a week. What a terrible realization to have on an evening where he should have enjoyed a triumph.

  Chapter Seven

  Eloisa had a difficult time containing the urge to laugh as Oliver’s mother responded to both pieces of shocking news her sons had given her. Throughout the main course, as everyone tucked into the delectable, juicy roast beef and boiled peas, Eloisa watched the various members of the Darrington family. How entirely different they were from her.

  The mother made no bones about reminding her brood she was in charge of the family and that she w
anted nothing more than a bevy of grandchildren without delay, for she could expire at any moment. Except, the woman with the slightly graying, auburn hair looked hale and hearty, and quite managing.

  She moved her gaze to the oldest—Felix. Though he was the new Earl of Snowden, there were times when he didn’t take life as seriously as Roberta probably would have wished. His eyes twinkled as he joked with Oliver. He even shared a ribald story with Charlotte’s husband, Ravenhurt. When he looked at his wife, those eyes became soft with a love so palpable, Eloisa felt it tingling her own spine.

  What would that be like, to be everything to a man?

  A hearty bout of laughter echoed in the room. Eloisa moved her perusal to Charlotte, a near picture of her mother except with more humor and a trace of wickedness. When she thought no one was looking, she touched her hand to Ravenhurst’s. Once, her hand disappeared beneath the table and seconds later, an expression of desire and astonishment crossed Nathan’s face. What did Charlotte do to him beneath the tablecloth and how did she come to be so daring?

  Could I ever have the nerve to blatantly arouse or tease a man while at a family dinner?

  She’d done nothing like that with Peter, and except for giving herself to him that one night before the benefit of marriage, they’d only shared a few kisses when they’d managed to sneak away from their guard dogs during their courtship. Her heartbeat raced for Charlotte and she hoped the hawk-eyed Roberta wouldn’t get wind of what her daughter was doing.

  “Untrue!” Oliver stated in an elevated voice, recalling Eloisa’s regard to him. He pointed at his brother with his fork. “You know it was your suggestion to take Edward Carruthers to that pond. It wasn’t my fault he wanted to swim.”

  “Yes, but it was your suggestion we steal his clothes,” Felix returned. “Remember that look on his face when he wandered back down the lane without a stitch on except for a few tufts of straw he held in front of him?

  The two brothers howled with laughter. Even Ravenhurst joined in with a restrained chuckle.