A Convenient Bride (17 page)

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.”

B
renna 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.

And her moment of clumsy inattention had brought those awful memories back.

“I will not be foolish again.” She pulled him down and kissed him once, twice, and again, while her salty tears mixed with her kisses. “It is I who am sorry, Richard. I promise you we will be safe. This baby will be born strong and healthy,” she said against his mouth.

Slowly, she felt the tension leave him as he eased her farther away from the staircase, matching her kiss for kiss. “If you scare me like that again, I will lock you in a pillory until the babe is born.”

She shook her head. “There will be no need. I have learned a terrifying lesson.”

He looked deep into her eyes. “We both have.” He lowered his head and kissed her long and deep.

Brenna’s heart lightened just enough to feel hope. The feeling lasted only for a moment. He lifted his head and looked away. “We should go down.”

Taking her arm, the cool Richard returned, and Brenna bit back a wave of disappointment. He escorted her down the staircase with great care.

Dozens of servants stood in the hall, and Richard introduced them all. Her mind whirled. There were so many.

The middle-aged housekeeper, Mrs. Beal, stepped forward. She leaned to take Brenna into her confidence. Her eyes twinkled. “I will help you remember each name, Milady. It will be my pleasure.”

Relieved, Brenna took her hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Beal. I will need all the assistance you can offer.”

When introductions were finished, Richard led her to the breakfast room. The space was grand as befitting a house of this size, and the table long enough to seat a large family.

Bethany was seated at one end, next to where the master would sit, and the other woman she’d seen last evening was opposite her. Bethany quickly masked her displeasure over seeing them together. The other woman focused on her plate.

Brenna knew that Bethany saw her as a rival for Richard’s affections. He was rich and handsome. There were likely many other women in their village who would despise her on sight for the same reason Bethany resented her. She was his wife.

Thankfully, Agnes told her enough, while dressing her, for Brenna to conclude that Bethany was not Richard’s mistress.

Lucy was seated near the middle of the table. Brenna released Richard’s arm and moved to the sideboard. She did not have the will to fight the two other women for a place at his side. If Bethany and her companion expected her to fly into a rage over the seating arrangements, they’d be disappointed. She would not push her position until she was fully aware of what she faced here at Beckwith Hall.

When her plate was full, she joined Lucy. Her friend smiled knowingly. “Less than a day as mistress of the hall, and you’ve already made enemies. That is quite admirable.”

They both looked down the long table to see two pairs of eyes staring at them as if they were some sort of carnival curiosity.

“A new and unexpected bride cannot be welcome,” Brenna said, cutting into a slice of ham. Her stomach rumbled beneath her gown. “They will quickly learn that Harrington women do not share their men with anyone.”

Brenna looked over at Richard. He was turning away from the sideboard, his plate piled high. In spite of her confident words, she wasn’t sure what Richard planned to do with her. He went from hot to frosty cold in a blink.

Looking at the seating arrangement, he frowned. She held her breath, waiting for him to choose. Then, without hesitation, he walked to her and took a place at her side.

Happiness flooded her veins. She may be an unwanted bride, but he had just solidified her position as mistress of the hall.

Lucy grinned wide, and she and Brenna shared a smile.

“Lord Ashwood, I would like to introduce you to my friend Lucy, Mrs. Franklin Pruitt. She will be staying with us for a few weeks, until her husband returns from Paris.”

Richard nodded to Lucy, and she simpered slightly under his regard. “It is my pleasure, My Lord.”

“I hope you enjoy your stay, Mrs. Pruitt,” he said companionably, and reached for a pastry. “I’m sure my wife will enjoy having a friend close while she navigates her new position here.”

Brenna bit her lip to hide her smile as she and Lucy exchanged satisfied glances. Richard understood her worries more than she’d expected. It would be nice to have someone, besides just Lucy, watching her back, lest she find a knife sticking out of it.

The meal progressed with Richard giving them a history of the hall and information about the park, the neighbors, and the village beyond. Sometime during the hour, Bethany and Miriam—which Brenna learned was the quiet woman’s name—left them without joining the conversation.

This pleased Brenna immensely. She sat back in her chair and pondered her husband. Though often sober, he was an entertaining host. After the meal concluded, Lucy excused herself, leaving Brenna and Richard alone.

“I will never remember all this,” she said, taking a last sip of tea. “I pray for your patience as I learn the names of your neighbors and navigate myself about the grounds.”

Richard stared, his expression unreadable. “I shall have someone find you a map. Andrew would know where they’re kept, but he is still missing.”

His comment brought her hand to her lips. “I apologize, My Lord. I have not asked about Anne. I’d assumed she’d been found.”

His face darkened. “There has been no sign of her or that bastard she ran off with. The whispers surrounding her disappearance have kicked up to a humiliating degree. She is now ruined.”

Though she did not know Anne, she felt for the missing woman. Even if she were found to be wed, the circumstances of her elopement would be the fodder for gossip for years to come.

“We must hope she is safe,” Brenna said softly. She knew how worried Richard was for his sister. “You mentioned Andrew is still missing, too? May he have continued the search?”

She knew that Andrew was her husband’s steward and was terribly concerned for Anne’s safety, too.

“The last note I received from him was that he was following a lead into Scotland. He wasn’t even sure the woman he was searching for was Anne. Though there was no sign of her marrying in Gretna Green, there are many other places to wed.” He paused and sighed. “There is nothing I can do if she’s wed Lockley. I just want to know she is in good health.”

Brenna reached out to touch his hand. They locked eyes. “Have faith. I am certain Andrew will find something. You may soon have your sister returned.”

Richard looked down at her hand. He rubbed a thumb over her fingertip. “If anything has happened to Anne, I will kill Lockley myself.”