Stop That Wedding

by Melissa Klein

  As much as he loathed the situation, he had to give Diana credit for discretion—and the best rear view he’d seen in ages. Not only did her long ponytail draw attention to her narrow waist, those snug jeans were accentuating a perfect bottom. He shook away images of caressing any part of the scenery before him. His job was to extract Uncle from a certain middle-aged woman’s claws, offer said woman an apology for derogatory remarks regarding her appearance and character and return them to their side of the pond.

  Diana paused behind a mammoth white SUV. “Excuse the mess.” She activated the rear gate to reveal a pink crate overflowing with tools, several towels, crumpled balls of paper, and a folding chair. “I wasn’t expecting Mama would be bringing home quite so much extra baggage.” She shoved the detritus to one side then reached for one of her mother’s smaller cases.

  Andrew stopped her. “Let me get the larger ones in first.”

  She scooted out of his way while he loaded the luggage puzzle in the back. With a little rearranging, he managed to make it work with enough room for the mother’s carry-on. “I’ll take that one from you now, if you please.” As he reached back, their hands connected. He turned when she failed to let go. “What?”

  “I’m so sorry.” Diana touched his jaw. “Usually, I have better control over my temper.”

  Somehow, he didn’t believe the statement, and as heat radiated from her touch he couldn’t help imagining her temper and passion went hand-in-hand. “Think nothing of it.” God knew he certainly needed to do the same.

  “All right, then.” She lowered the gate. “We’re all set. Mama, why don’t you join me up front?”

  Jackie looped her arm through Uncle Neville’s. “No thank you, sugar. Dukie and I want to sit together in the back, don’t we, baby cakes?”

  Diana’s jaw tightened. “Don’t you think—?”

  “My minds made up, and I’ve counted to three.” The woman stomped her foot.

  “Fine.” She let out a breath. “Andrew, looks like you’re riding shotgun with me.”

  No wonder Mrs. Curtis had managed to worm her way into his uncle’s life. She pouted her way through life like a spoiled child. As he climbed in the front passenger side seat, the farce got the better of him. “I think I’m going to be ill,” he muttered. “Baby cakes? Dukie?” When had his uncle ever suffered such horrific familiarity?

  Diana pointed to a takeaway bag crumpled in the floor. “There’s a barf bag if you need it.” She flashed a grin before starting the monstrosity’s engine and driving them out of the car park.

  Andrew shook his head at her jest. A bloke could learn to live on those smiles of hers. No! The situation in which he found himself was devoid of humor. After all, this woman could be leading them to their deaths. As they reached the motorway, thoughts of imprisonment flashed in his mind. What if they’d planned this all along? He and his uncle could be held for ransom, though their potential captors would gain little for their efforts.

  He leaned his head against the headrest and vowed to keep his imagination in check. With enough real problems to fill the back of Diana’s vehicle, he didn’t need to create imaginary ones. His eyelids grew heavy. Prior to Cullen’s call, he’d been “at work” for two solid days. A moment’s rest would help him to see the problem better.

  “The landscape is simply breathtaking, my dear. I can’t wait to see it under spring’s color.”

  His uncle’s declaration penetrated his sleep. Andrew stretched and looked outside the 4x4’s window at the farms and forests that lined the highway. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Fifteen minutes. We’ll be at the house in another ten minutes or so.”

  Finally, they pulled into a long, stone drive bordered by ancient oaks on either side. Spanish moss hung from the limbs, providing a curtain to the road ahead. At a curve in the path, a classic example of Greek Revival architecture came into view. Two stories, symmetrical columns, wide porches on both levels. A newer extension peeked from one side, built in perfect sympathy to the original. Immaculately trimmed boxwoods and lush lawn greeted them as they approached the front of the home. Perhaps things weren’t as bad as he thought if the Curtis women could afford such a mansion. His hopes popped like a balloon when they pulled around to the back and parked by the service entrance.

  Diana killed the truck’s engine and turned to her guests. “Welcome to Greenbrier, y’all.” She tapped the horn, hoping one of the staff was nearby and could help with the luggage. Acquiring rooms for Andrew and his uncle ranked high on the current to-dos. Along with Googling their names. As they exited, her mother latched on to her beau like a sorority girl with a discounted Vera Bradley bag. Once she got her mother untangled from the duke, Diana could straighten the whole mess out.

  Billy, a high schooler from down the road and the current bellhop, spilled out the kitchen door with Jasmine Doss on his heels. “Thank the heavenly angels.” With her events manager on site, Diana could focus on her mother’s current mess instead of the wedding taking place in their garden tomorrow afternoon. She tugged Jasmine to the side while Billy unpacked the back of her truck.

  The African-American woman leaned in to whisper. “Did you know—?”

  “No, and I don’t have time to explain now. Please tell me we’ve got a couple rooms we can put these two gentlemen in.” If push came to shove, they could stay in the family quarters, but the last thing she wanted was to give her mother an easy way for her and her British beau to cohabitate.

  “The Azalea and Magnolia Suites are available tonight and tomorrow, but they’re booked from Monday on.”

  “Not a problem. His Grace and his nephew won’t be with us longer than that.”

  Jasmine’s eyes bugged.

  “You heard me.”

  “Man, when your mama…”

  “I know. I’ll fill you in later.” She nodded to the couple. “First things first.”

  Inside the narrow hallway leading to the kitchen, Diana squeezed past the others. “I’ll lead the way up to the front. We’ve got two nice suites for you gentlemen where you can freshen up and rest.”

  As they wound through the back offices, dining room, and library, her mother gave a commentary of the mansion’s history, antiques, and noted visitors. To Diana, Greenbrier was more than genteel living. Returning home, even if she’d only been away a few hours, brought to mind the way her grandfather taught her to clean catfish, the scent of his cherry pipe tobacco, and her grandmother’s famous biscuits. Which is why she needed to protect it and her mother—from all threats, foreign or domestic.

  After arranging room keys and witnessing a kiss between lovers that turned Diana’s stomach, she finally settled the British invaders in their rooms. As Diana and her mother walked the long way over to the mansion’s 1920’s addition where their rooms were, her mother kept glancing over her shoulder. “Do you think I should send up a tea tray? Neville loves his tea.”

  Diana let out a breath. She’d had enough of Dukie Dear and his sidekick. “If they want something, they can ring down to the front desk.” She took her mother by the elbow. “Right now, you and I need to talk.”

  Her mother yawned. “Oh, darling, can’t it keep? I’m knackered.”

  “Knackered? No, this can’t wait. I need to know about this duke guy and how you two hooked up.”

  Jackie clutched her hands to her chest. “Oh, it’s just too romantic.” Her words came in with a girlish giggle. “The duke and I had been corresponding via one of my online gardening chat groups for a year or so before our trip. At first we discussed our mutual love of roses and peonies, but after a while, our conversations became more personal. When he learned the Greenville Gardening Club would be coming close to his home in Gloucester, he invited me to tea.”

  It all sounded innocent enough, except her mother had never shown any interest in dating. Not since Diana’s daddy ran off with the town tramp. Swearing off men was about the only thing mother and daughter had in common. Diana too had put romance on a
shelf after finding her boyfriend and best friend in bed together.

  “That’s very nice, Mama, but why did he follow you back here?”

  “For the wedding, silly.”

  Diana choked on her own spit. “Say that again.” Andrew had been correct. She glanced at her mother’s left hand. Sure enough, there was a sizable ring on the third finger.

  “The duke asked me to marry him. We’ll have the ceremony here in a couple weeks and then return to his estate for the rest of summer. The plan is to spend six months in each home, but we haven’t worked out the details yet.” Jackie wandered over to the window. “I think the knot garden will be the perfect place for the ceremony. Don’t you?”

  “You mean to tell me after one face-to-face meeting he proposed marriage?” My God, maybe the duke was crazy. Or more likely labored under the impression his American lady friend owned the mansion she lived in.

  “He joined me and the ladies on the rest of our tour. We had a few days together before my trip ended, so it wasn’t exactly on our first meeting.”

  “What do you know about this man?”

  “I know he’s the eighth Duke of Effingham, and his family has lived on his estate since the seventeenth century. He went to Oxford, loves Renaissance art, and is passionate about gardening. Most importantly, he’s devoted to me.” Her lip quivered with the last statement.

  Diana wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulder. “It’s all right. Don’t cry. But you can’t bring home random strangers and expect me not to react.”

  Her mother leaned into Diana’s shoulder. “Can’t you see we’re perfect for each other?”

  Only if fools came in matching sets—or every con had his perfect mark. She had to find a way to expose the Duke of Effingham and his nephew—if that’s who they were. “We’ll talk more after you’ve had a rest, Mama.” She pulled down the covers and helped her mother crawl atop her canopy bed.

  After closing the door to her mother’s room, Diana found herself too keyed up to turn in and too anxious to work. She left the new addition where the family lived and headed to the pool at the back of the mansion. After toeing out of her shoes and rolling up the hem of her jeans, she lowered her legs into the cool water. “Short of a crowbar, how am I going to pry those two lovebirds apart?”

  “I’ve been contemplating that very thing myself.”

  The masculine voice from over in the corner made Diana jolt so hard she nearly toppled into the water. “What the hell. Do you always hide in dark corners?”

  Andrew eased off the chaise and ambled over to join her at the pool’s edge. “Not as a rule.” He shrugged. “Then again, I don’t usually have this kind of problem to navigate.”

  His nearness as he settled in next to her set the buzzards in her belly to flapping again. “Too bad we can’t lock them in their rooms until they come to their senses.” A smidgen of truth lay in her joke, along with a little reminder that she needed to keep her own hormones in check.

  “Have you tried reasoning with your mother?”

  Diana barked a laugh. “You met her right? The one in the fuchsia dress who brought home a man she barely knows. Logic and Jackie are not friends.” Mama lived in a fantasy world filled with magical gardens, knights in shining armor, and happy endings. “How about your uncle? Is he prone to flights of fancy?”

  “No, not at all.” He shook his head, a puzzled look on his face. “I planned to speak with him, but he nodded off before I could get more than a couple sentences in.” He sighed then scrubbed his palm over his face. “I’ll try again in the morning when we’re both fresher.”

  “I’m not feeling too sharp myself. I’ve been putting in long hours between the B&B, the stores, and the hunters’ camp.” The fancy new mattress she’d recently purchased called her name.

  Andrew tugged on the dark golf shirt with the Greenbrier logo on the front. “I did a little shopping in the lobby boutique. From what the clerk tells me you’ve accomplished this all on your own and in a very short period. Well done.”

  Heat from his gaze warmed her. “Thanks.” She looked away. “You’re not the only one who’s been nosey. I researched you and your uncle on the internet. Seems you two are legit.”

  “I assure you we are.”

  “But that’s not all I learned.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Do tell?”

  “I think I’ve got this straight. It’s about as clear as the muddy Mississippi.” Diana tapped her lips. “Since the duke doesn’t have any kids, his title must go to the next closest male heir, which happened to be a distant cousin.”

  “A very distant cousin,” Andrew added. “My family hasn’t been very good at keeping our men alive.”

  Finding an heir wouldn’t be a problem if they let women inherit. Only the good Lord knew who would have gotten their hands on Greenbrier if her Granddaddy couldn’t have left it to her.

  “Then, the duke’s younger sister, your mama, married that very distant cousin which keeps everything nice and tidy.”

  “When the time comes, I’ll inherit the dukedom as well as my father’s titles.”

  “But you’re Viscount Farthingworth now.”

  “Correct. See, that wasn’t so hard to understand.”

  “The website didn’t say what you do for a living, though.”

  “If you mean do I have a nine-to-five job, the answer is no.”

  “So viscounting is a full-time gig?”

  “I have ways of keeping occupied.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I can well imagine.” She met his type at Ole Miss. The accent might be different, but the attitude was the same. Another frat boy looking for a party.

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “You’re probably not far off the mark. Compared to you, my pursuits seem frivolous.”

  That smile. Those blue eyes of his. She looked down at her feet as they stirred the water. “Then why don’t you change? You certainly seem smart enough to do something other than gallivant all over Europe. It wasn’t like I was born running a store.” Why was she talking about Sweet Tea and Lavender? To keep from thinking about how well he filled out his shirt, that’s why.

  “My pursuits serve a purpose. Enough about business.” He pointed to the original 1832 house where the B&B guests stayed. “Tell me about your family and how you came to own such a beautiful specimen of Greek Revival architecture.”

  A spark of indignation flickered at the inference her people had somehow come by the house illegally. “My three times great-granddaddy won it in a poker game at the end of the Civil War. Him being a riverboat captain, he wasn’t interested in farming, so he let folks in the area work the land in a lease-to-own type proposition. He gave the house and ten acres surrounding the place as a wedding present to his wife, a Creole woman he met down in New Orleans. You might say my people have never been high society even if we were stepping in high cotton.”

  His gaze danced in amusement. “And the present generation? What type of cotton are they stepping in?”

  Was he poking fun at me?

  Diana reined in her temper before it got the better of her. Again. She’d already proved nothing good came from letting this man get under her skin . “Medium height.”

  “What I meant was, do you have any siblings, extended family and the like?”

  “I’m an only child of an only child.” She drawled out the words, making them as sweet as her mama’s ice tea. “My grandparents passed away a few years back, and Daddy left when I was in kindergarten.” She had vague recollections of him—dark hair worn slicked back, bright green eyes, and a Corvette.

  “Boyfriends?”

  “Not anymore.” She looked away. Thoughts of Travis and Megan locked in a heated clench still stung.

  Andrew cupped her cheek, turning her to face him. “I sense I’ve touched on a tender subject. Forgive me.”

  That posh accent of his soothed over her like a velvet blanket. “Nothing to forgive. You didn’t sleep with my best friend.”

 
“What kind of fool would do such a thing? You’re one of the most exquisite women I’ve ever met.” He brushed back a lock of her hair. “You’re smart, loyal to your mother…”

  Her cheeks heated with his praise.

  “And modest.” He touched her cheek. “I’ve made you blush.”

  “I haven’t heard this much praise since my granddaddy passed. You and your charming ways remind me a little of him.”

  “He would have liked me?”

  “No, he would have hated you and your uncle on sight.” She burst out laughing as his expression fell. “Don’t be offended, though. No one was good enough for his girls.”

  “Your laugh does funny things to me.”

  “Ha, ha funny or funny like you’re going to throw up?”

  “No, like I want to do this.” Andrew leaned in pressing his lips to hers. Then he drew her closer, angling her chin to deepen the kiss.

  Diana kissed him back, threading her fingers through his hair. Man, did he know what to do with his lips and tongue. Parts as dormant as daffodils in December suddenly bloomed to life.

  She broke the kiss, shoving him away. With the back of her hand, she wiped away the feeling of his mouth against hers. “No, no, no.”

  Andrew’s eyes widened, and he scooted out of arm’s reach. “I apologize. I would appreciate it if you’d refrain from slugging me again.”

  “No need to apologize, and I have no intentions of hitting you.” Especially given how much she enjoyed the kiss. Her head hummed like she’d been hitting Phi Gamma Delta’s bathtub gin. It was one thing to find Mr. Viscount Hotness attractive but letting the girly parts do the thinking was what got her involved with Travis Briscoe. Besides, she was supposed to be working on a plan to get rid of Dukie Dear, not making out with the younger version.

  With absolutely no grace, she withdrew her legs from the pool and scrambled to her knees. “I gotta go.”

  “Wait.” He reached for her. “We haven’t—”