The Wagered Bride (The Clearbrooks)

by McCarthy, Teresa

He kissed her fiercely, wondering how God could be so good to him.

  As time passed, one lavender-scented coach hastened along the road to London, its clattering wheels and jingling harnesses drowning out the mews of one curious kitten and a couple very much in love.

  Drastically in love.

  THE CONVENIENT BRIDE

  -Book 3-

  The Clearbrook Series

  Excerpt, Copyright © Teresa McCarthy, 2005

  All rights reserved

  Chapter One

  She was in love. His favorite food was roasted duck with plum sauce. He enjoyed bayberry soap with his bath. And he liked raspberry tarts for breakfast. There wasn't much sixteen-year-old Briana Garland didn't know about Lord Clayton Clearbrook.

  Standing in the shade of a cluster of oak trees blocking the afternoon sun, Briana glanced through the window of the massive ballroom of Elbourne Hall and let out an audible sigh. Metal clashed against metal as the fencers slid over the newly shined dance floor of the Duke of Elbourne's country estate.

  He looked positively magnificent.

  Coffee-colored hair flew about his handsome face, giving him the appearance of a pirate on the high seas. Long, powerful legs lunged against his enemy with such perfect form it made her shudder. Lord Clayton was four years her senior and her ideal man.

  "Oh, don't be taken in, Bree. They are not that dashing," sixteen-year-old Lady Emily pronounced, leaning her elbows on the outside ledge of the open window, gazing into the ballroom.

  Briana felt a blush climb up her throat. Caught up in the world of dueling swordsmen, she had almost forgotten about her friend.

  The duke's only daughter rolled her eyes. "They are my brothers, not at all the type of gentleman one would want to dream about. The ninnies don't even know we're watching them."

  Briana shifted her gaze back to the swordplay as the weapons hissed through the air.

  Clayton was pitted against his brother Marcus, who was a year older than he. Stephen, the youngest of Emily's brothers, born a few years before his sister, stood on the side, jeering his siblings on. Curses flew from one end of the room to the other and Briana's color deepened.

  She was staying at Elbourne Hall this summer, as she had for the past few years. Her mother, a longtime friend of the duchess, had made the arrangement in hopes that Briana would attach herself to one of the Clearbrook brothers.

  Not that Briana should set her eyes on Roderick, who was in line to be duke, her mother had said, but one of the other boys would be agreeable enough.

  Briana rested her shoulder against the mansion, wondering how on earth she could ever think to be part of this family. Marriage to any of the brothers was practically hopeless. Although she was almost out of the schoolroom, just like her friend Emily, the Clearbrook males still considered them mere children.

  "I did not say they were dashing," Briana said, trying to justify her attentions.

  Emily's eyes twinkled. "You didn't have to. Many of my friends think my brothers dashing and all that rubbish. But that is where you are different, Bree. You will not throw yourself at them like most females."

  Still resting her elbows on the sill, Emily leaned her chin against her palm. "Depend upon it, they are able to turn grown women into pudding in the wink of an eye. I daresay it is the most disgusting thing you ever want to see."

  Briana tried not to blink. Oh, she had seen it. Her gaze strayed to Lord Clayton, and she literally had to hold back another sigh when she caught a glimpse of those mesmerizing violet blue eyes. Even his jaw held a certain stubbornness that captivated her.

  She smiled inwardly. His tall, lean form encased in buckskin breeches, along with his commanding air of self-confidence, only added to his appeal. And although all the Clearbrook males had many special qualities, memories of Lord Clayton's kindness were never far from her mind.

  It was less than two years ago when she had fallen off her horse and he had rushed to her side, wiping the tears and dirt from her face. "Miss Garland, if you are trying to deprive all the young men in this county of your beautiful eyes, you are doing a deuced good job of it. They are fairy eyes." His violet blue gaze danced with mischief and she laughed between her tears.

  Since then, her affection for him had grown, and today she finally realized it was love.

  There were many times he had caught her reading in the duke's library and never once had he scoffed at her. In fact, he had done just the opposite. They had actually carried on intelligent conversations about whatever book she was studying at the time.

  To her, Lord Clayton Clearbrook was wonderful, a man any girl would want to marry.

  "If you must know, Em, I have never seen anyone fence before. I have read about it, to be sure. But seeing the real thing is quite exciting."

  "They are using blunted ends, so there is no chance they will die," Emily said calmly. "I declare it is not at all exciting." She flung her arm toward the dance floor. "Look at them. They act as if they were swashbucklers on the high seas."

  "They look like swashbucklers," Briana said quietly.

  "Oh, they box, too. And take lessons at Gentleman Jackson's. Papa says they should not practice on themselves, but they do anyway. It is all an act for the ladies. But they have soft hearts, even Roderick, who will be duke one day. And I do love them and they me."

  Eyes sparkling with mischief, Emily jumped away from the window. "So, you see. Our plan will work. I can get them to do almost anything I want."

  Briana worried her bottom lip. She had no doubt who would win in the battle of wills. Since Roderick was away, with their father, the other brothers were mere puppets in Emily's hands.

  Baring a devilish grin, Emily pressed her hand against the jasmine flowers climbing the wall beside them. "Remember that day I had them take me back to the village for a special ribbon I had seen in the shopkeeper's window?"

  Briana nodded, her lips curling upward. Emily's grin was infectious. "It was last year and your father was furious. A storm was ravaging the countryside. We were soaked to the bone."

  Emily chuckled. "Yes, and we had to stay at Lord Kingsdale's home to dry. Mama was livid. She never liked him, even though he is friends with Clayton."

  "Oh, I thought Lord Kingsdale quite nice. In fact, he likes Egyptian architecture, you know. We talked about it for hours." But he was no Clayton, she wanted to say.

  "Yes, he was quite agreeable that day," Emily said with a shrug, turning her head back to the ballroom.

  Briana picked a white petal off the flowering vine and glanced at her friend. Emily's raven black hair and violet blue eyes, the same shade as Clayton's, were stunning.

  "My sister is like you, Em. Pretty and quite the thing. In a few years, I imagine she will sway many a gentleman her way."

  Emily angled her head toward Briana. "You are quite pretty, Bree. No one I know has eyes as green as yours. I think Clayton calls them fairy eyes."

  Had he mentioned her eyes to Emily? Hope sprang within Briana as she peered back into the ballroom. Male voices echoed about the room, mingling with the clash of steel.

  "I don't know about this plan," she said to Emily. Her petal fell to the ground, and she began to wring her hands on her muslin skirt. What would Lord Clayton say when he discovered their ploy? "It makes me nervous. Perhaps we should wait—"

  Emily grabbed Briana's hand in a friendly squeeze. "Wait? Why wait? This is the perfect time."

  "But Mama will not allow me to learn that dance."

  "What does that matter? My mama won't allow it either. What are we to do during our first London Season without knowledge of the latest dances?"

  "I don't—"

  "Oh," Emily interrupted, as the male voices rose in intensity. "Listen, Bree. They are having a great row now. Fists will soon be flying. It's the best time to approach them."

  Briana looked on, the blood rushing to her head. Maybe Emily's brothers would never discover their scheme. Besides, this might be the one time Briana could be close to Lord Clayton,
and who knew what would happen when she went to London and had her Season. She would know the dance by then, and he might even ask her for a waltz at Almack's if the patroness gave permission. "I see. When they are thinking of something else, then we attack?"

  "Precisely," Emily said, smiling. "When a female has four brawny brothers, she has to fight with her brain because brute strength certainly won't work. Remember that, Bree. It will help you in the Season, especially with the male gender."

  No sooner had Briana tucked the idea away when a shout penetrated her thoughts. She stared in amazement at the fiery exchange taking place. The stakes seemed to be rising.

  "Clay, watch out! You'd best be careful with your footing! To the left, you peabrain! Thrust, Marcus! Parry, parry, thrust!"

  A growl erupted from Clayton as Marcus gave another jab of his sword.

  "Bad form, Clay," Stephen spouted, his voice laced with amusement. "I say, very bad indeed. What the devil were you doing? I told you to go left."

  Clayton did not think his brother's words funny in the least. He stepped to the side, his sword slicing Stephen's way. "Button your blasted lips or I shall do it for you!"

  Stephen crossed his arms over his chest and laughed. "Oh ho! I would like to see you try! I believe Marcus scored that point, not you!"

  Marcus's black hair flew over his temple as he let his sword fall to his side. "Do you two have to go at it again?"

  Stephen shrugged and made his way across the room, fingering the pianoforte. "If Clayton says please, I just might stop."

  Briana's brows lifted in mute horror as she watched Clayton march toward his brother. "I am going to skewer you with the point of this blade, little brother."

  "That's the problem with you, Clay," Stephen said, laughing. "You don't even know the point is flat."

  "Emily, they are going to hurt each other," Briana said anxiously.

  "No, no, they won't. Now just play along with me, and we will have them eating out of our hands."

  "But—"

  It was too late to protest. Emily gave an earsplitting whine of distress that made Briana scream herself.

  Clayton's gaze snapped toward the window, and all three brothers froze. Out of the corner of her eye, Emily glanced up at Briana. Briana blinked in shock, too paralyzed to think.

  "Follow my lead," Emily whispered. "We will be learning the waltz in no time. Here they come."

  The click of heels echoed in Briana's ears like the pounding of a huge drum. "What?" she gasped.

  "They cannot stand tears," Emily said through stiff lips. "Just do what I do. But for goodness' sake, don't stare at them with those fairy eyes of yours. Your face will give everything away."

  "Em?" Clayton said, poking his head out the window. Stephen and Marcus stood anxiously beside him.

  Emily cried harder into her handkerchief. Briana dropped her gaze to the ground, her mouth glued shut in terror.

  "What the blazes is wrong?" Clayton asked.

  Briana forgot the plan and raised her head. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she gazed into Clayton's beautiful eyes. They were more blue than violet now. Their color seemed to change with his emotions. She well remembered when they had deepened to a dark sapphire the day Emily had placed a buttered scone on his seat, ruining his new jacket.

  No, these were a soft dusky blue, full of concern and worry. Sweat beaded along his brow and across the open neck of his shirt. Briana tore her gaze away.

  "What the devil is wrong with you two?" It was Lord Marcus and he sounded quite perturbed.

  Briana swallowed past the large lump blocking her throat. Fudge! She was in the thick of it now. Her face burned with embarrassment. She opened her mouth and closed it feeling like a fool.

  "Jupiter and Zeus," Stephen said from behind. "Do you know you interrupted a very desperate battle?"

  Briana thought she heard a snicker from beneath Emily's handkerchief. Goodness, the girl had her brothers twisted around her finger like the vine of the jasmine flowers beside them.

  The brothers seemed so tall and powerful, it amazed Briana how one wail from a little female could change their steely demeanor to one of intense concern. Briana didn't know much about feminine wiles, but she was learning fast

  "Em," Clayton said, his voice kindness itself, "what's wrong?"

  Emily peeked over her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. Shiny black hair winked in the sunlight, making Briana all too aware of her own dull auburn locks. Feeling extraordinarily self-conscious, she stepped back into the shadows.

  "Oh, Clayton, it's terrible," Emily sniffed. "I am to go to London soon and I have no idea how to waltz. My dancing master, Monsieur Buckette, is ill."

  Three male groans hit Briana's ears. Although she truly loved Emily, she thought pulling this act on all three brothers was scarier than meeting the king at court. She wanted to shrink behind the climbing vines and disappear. She was good at fading into the crowd. Sometimes no one noticed her at all.

  To her surprise, the three brothers turned their backs and started to converse in low voices. Were they truly going to bow to their baby sister's request and teach the girls to waltz? Or had they already discovered their ploy?

  "Well, dash it all, I don't like it above half, but she has to learn," Clayton said in a hushed tone.

  "You have a point," Stephen put in. "Every lady should know how to waltz."

  "Don't like it," Marcus added. "Don't like her waltzing with any gentleman. Devil a bit. It ain't a seemly dance for either of those imps."

  The whispers were no longer audible and Briana started to panic when the brothers shot them curt glances over their broad shoulders.

  "Emily," she said, scooting toward her friend, "don't you think—"

  Beneath her handkerchief, a smile sprang to Emily's lips. "Wait thirty seconds," she whispered.

  "Why does Mother not hire another dancing master?" Stephen's voice rose suspiciously as he turned toward Briana and Emily.

  "Because, Monsieur Buckette is at least three score, if not more," Clayton said, narrowing his brow and regarding the two girls. "He's ... well... he's safe."

  "There is Sir William," Stephen announced calmly. "I hear he has filled in as a dancing master for Lady Penelope—"

  "Sir William?" Clayton said, exasperated. "You have to be jesting. There is no idiot on earth that would have that rogue dance with any female of his acquaintance, let alone a sister."

  He peered at Briana and frowned. "Or a sister's friend."

  Stephen smiled. "Are you calling Lady Penelope's father an idiot?"

  Clayton ground his teeth.

  Marcus frowned. "Don't like it above half, but it will have to be us. Don't trust any of those young dancing masters."

  "Marcus is right," Clayton put in. "Come on inside, Em. Bring Miss Garland with you. You will learn how to waltz. Give us some time to clean up."

  Briana's eyes grew wide. She was astounded that her friend's plan was falling into place so easily. "Emily, I—"

  "Shhh." Emily squeezed Briana's arm as the three men sauntered back into the ballroom and up the stairs to change.

  "But, Emily, Monsieur Buckette is in fine health. We saw him only yesterday."

  "My brothers don't know that." Emily shrugged. "Besides, I think the man had the sniffles yesterday."

  "But..."

  Emily giggled. "Oh, won't it be divine when we take London by storm?"

  Briana was becoming more uncomfortable by the minute. Emily always liked excitement, and that was one reason Briana usually enjoyed her company—except for a few times like this, when her taste for excitement forced Briana to, well, lie.

  "I would rather be reading about Egyptian artifacts," she mumbled.

  Emily laughed. "My brothers won't bite. They are quite tame when they dance. And besides, they like Egyptian artifacts."

  She pulled Briana along. "Don't worry, silly. I'll make certain you are paired with Clayton. He's not as stuffy as Marcus. But just don't look at him with
those fairy eyes."

  "I don't have fairy eyes."

  "Yes, you do. I've always wished mine were your color. But Clayton has a sixth sense about these things." She giggled. "Except when I stretch the truth. So remember, if your eyes give us away, it's good-bye, waltz, hello, boredom."

  Courage welled up inside Briana. Good heavens, she was going to dance with Clayton! "I can keep this a secret."

  "Of course you can. I never said you couldn't."

  A chuckle escaped Briana's lips. "I can be just as stubborn as you about withholding information."

  Emily turned to her and frowned. "If you think me stubborn, don't even test Clayton. If he discovers our trick, well, I vow he will make it hard for me to ever waltz again."

  Briana's brows fell into a concerned V. "He will?"

  Emily laughed. "I am only jesting, Bree. But he is stubborn. Come on."

  Briana managed a half smile as they turned the corner and entered Elbourne Hall. She always had a sixth sense about these things, too. Something was bound to go wrong.

  Thirty minutes later, Briana found herself in the arms of Lord Clayton, while Emily was partnered with Marcus and Stephen played the pianoforte.

  "One, two, three, one, two, three," Clayton said aloud, swinging Briana about the room. "That's it. Just let your partner take the lead. Everyone will think you two girls have been dancing since you were four."

  Briana was acutely conscious of the man's nearness. His hand was firm and strong about her waist, while the scent of bayberry drifted her way, sending a tingling to the pit of her stomach.

  A hot ache grew in her throat when she thought about her mother's plan for her to marry a Clearbrook. With a sinking heart, she realized nothing would ever come of it.

  She had heard Lord Clayton was in love with Lady Serena Brently from London. A diamond of the first water. A lady with lustrous yellow hair and large chestnut eyes. A lady, not a mere girl of sixteen.

  And to make matters worse, just last week she had overheard him talking about buying a commission in the army. All the Clearbrook brothers would be going to war soon. Napoleon was causing too much havoc for them to watch sedately from the English countryside.