Read A Convenient Bride Online
Authors: Cheryl Ann Smith
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General
Brenna did not trust her in the least. Though the other woman seemed to accept her place as mistress of the hall, Brenna did not believe for a moment that she wasn’t plotting ways to ruin the marriage.
“There is something I am curious about.” Brenna tucked the book under her arm. “I suspect that both you and Miriam hoped to marry Richard. Now that I am his wife, why are you still here?”
If she expected to pique Bethany’s temper, she failed. The woman laughed. “You are a delight, my dear.”
The woman closed the distance between them. She gave Brenna a thorough look over, perhaps calculating her qualities as a rival.
“I suspect Richard married you out of duty or guilt, or under the threat of death,” Bethany said. “It matters not why, only that he did not willingly agree to your marriage.”
Brenna winced, the truth cutting deeply. She quickly tried to mask her hurt, but it was too late.
Smiling knowingly, Bethany pounced. “Ah, it
is
true!” She placed her hands on her hips. “Your pretty face will only keep him interested for so long. His heart belongs to Millicent. Soon you will tire of always living under her gloomy shadow and run back to London, where you belong.”
Beneath her corset, Brenna’s stomach recoiled, yet she managed to keep her eyes locked on Bethany’s. “Once I am gone, what do you expect to get from him that you could not achieve over the last two years?”
Her brown eyes darkened, but her smile held. “Did Richard tell you that he kissed me? I know that once you’ve gone, and the marriage is annulled, I will seduce him into making me his next, and last, wife.”
Hatred burned hot in Brenna’s bones. “You have this all planned out, do you?” A slow smug smile curled her mouth up. “There is only one problem with your plot.”
“And that is?”
Brenna placed a hand over her stomach. “Richard will never leave the woman who is carrying his child.”
Bethany looked down, and her face went white. “You are pregnant?”
She did not need to answer. The satisfied smile was all it took to convince Bethany that her words rang true. “I suggest you look elsewhere for a husband. You cannot have mine.”
And with as much confidence as she could manage, Brenna glided from the room.
Only after she was safely away from that witch did the tears come. Richard had kissed Bethany. He clearly found the woman attractive. That shattered her confidence.
No matter what he felt for her, what she’d said to Bethany about him not leaving her was correct. He had too much honor to cast out the mother of his child. But he could take a mistress. Nothing would stop him if he wanted Bethany.
Their marriage vows were just words. Men of his ilk took mistresses without qualms or concerns for their wives.
And Richard did not love her.
In a few months, she’d be well rounded, not the seductive wife he married. Could she trust him not to look elsewhere?
Brushing away the tears with her sleeve, she headed for the back of the house and out into the garden.
The sun was hidden beneath blanketing clouds as she found the path to the pond. Once there, she sat on the stone bench and looked out over the water. A pair of ducks dove for fish, their antics drawing a smile.
“When did my life become such a muddle?” she said softly, and placed her hands over her stomach. “How do I fix this?”
“Can I join you, or is this a private conversation?” Brenna startled, and turned to find George walking up behind her. “I would hate to intrude.”
Brenna slid her skirt aside to make room on the bench. “I was just pondering the meaning of my existence,” she said, in half jest. He took a seat beside her. “I am troubled with what I see.”
George looked into her face and rubbed his chin. “I think most of your troubles begin with that grim man you wed.”
“Partially,” she admitted. “And there are other forces at work to darken my mood.”
“My sister,” George said, without hesitation. “She is desperately jealous of you. She wanted to be Lady Ashwood. She would have tromped over anyone to make that happen. Unfortunately for her, Richard was not of a similar mind.”
“She seems to think she was very close to seeing that come to fruition,” Brenna said. She looked back at the ducks. “Her confidence concerns me.”
“Hmm.” George rubbed at his cuff. A spot of dirt marked the lace. “Bethany holds herself in high regard. There is nothing she wants that she cannot have. Except Ashwood. I do not know what you did to hook him, but you have succeeded where my sister, and many other women, have failed.”
This was turning into a very interesting conversation. “Are you including Miriam in that group? I suspect she was also hoping for a proposal.”
George snorted. “Miriam is a mouse. Bethany would have pushed her under a coach before she’d allow a wedding between them to happen. It was Miriam’s mother who hoped for that match.”
Brenna stared. “I thought Bethany and Miriam were friends?”
“Bethany has no friends,” George said, snickering. “Miriam’s mother and our mother are friends. Bethany found out about Richard, and Mrs. Prindle’s hope that Miriam would one day be Lady Ashwood, and manipulated an invitation to the hall. She only tolerates Miriam to keep her place here.”
Interesting. She wanted to delve further into the relationships but felt she’d snooped enough already.
“And what of you?” she asked. “What do you gain from living here at the hall?”
A bright grin split his face. “Balls, soirees, and all the women I can charm.” He chuckled. “Richard may prefer his own company to the social whirl, but living here affords me invitations to events for which I would otherwise be overlooked. And I do enjoy a good party.”
“And yet you remain unmarried?” she pressed. He probably had mothers all over the park hoping to gain his favor for
their daughters. “There must be women who’ve captured your interest?”
“Alas, I have difficulty settling for one,” he admitted. “Though if you decide to leave that cranky husband of yours, I would gladly give up my bachelorhood for a cottage in the country and a passel of sniveling children with you as my bride.”
Brenna laughed. “You make it sound so charming.”
He made a face and shuddered dramatically. “It does sound horrid, does it not? Perhaps I shall remain a bachelor after all. Your marriage is safe from me.”
“For that, I am thankful,” Brenna teased.
They chatted for a time, until the hour grew late. Brenna excused herself to change for supper. The afternoon had taken an upward turn. George certainly amused.
The maid had just finished fastening her gown when she heard Richard moving around next door. She decided to take the opportunity to speak to him privately. She walked through the sitting room and knocked.
Her stomach fluttered when he opened the door. It took a moment to regain her composure. She lifted her chin.
“I came to speak to you about a matter of great importance,” she said, hoping he’d not refuse her. “It cannot wait until later.”
He sighed and stepped back. “Then do come in.” Brenna passed him, keeping her hands to herself. She wanted desperately to drag him down on his bed and forget their quarrel, everything but finding pleasure in each other.
Instead, she knitted her fingers together and turned. “I owe you an apology. I should not have insisted you tell me about your wife. It was not my place.”
He tugged at his cravat. “Some memories should be left buried.”
“Oh, I do not think so,” she said. “I am only sorry I pushed you, not that I felt I should not know. I just want you to tell me on your own.”
He released the cravat and scowled. “This is an apology?”
Brenna shrugged. “I grow weary of your silence. I am with child. As I understand from Mrs. Beal, I should keep my emotions even. Otherwise, I will have a temperamental child.”
“Your mother must have suffered much trauma when she was carrying you,” he said gruffly.
Laughter bubbled up. “I suspect you are correct.” She did not wait for a reply. She walked over and took his arm. “Come, let us eat before the baby starves.”
The evening meal passed along the same light vein as the afternoon in the garden, when George told story after story, his supply of humorous adventures seemingly endless. Even Richard smiled now and again when something amusing was said.
Brenna watched Richard, uncertain of his thoughts but hoping their talk helped to ease the strain between them.
Occasionally she caught him looking at her with a heated gaze that he quickly masked. This gave her hope that he might join her in bed that evening. She eagerly anticipated the moment. However, and without explanation, he left her with a kiss on the forehead before moving on to his solitary bed.
Disappointed and frustrated, she followed him through the sitting room and placed herself in the doorway before he could close the panel.
“I thought we had settled our differences,” she said, puzzled at his abrupt dismissal.
“We have. For the moment.” He tugged at his cravat. “This last week has given me time to conclude that you and I are very different. And it goes beyond the obvious. You enjoy parties and shopping and attention. I enjoy quiet and country and…sheep.”
He gave her a funny look. She flushed. Somehow he must have overheard her jest about him preferring the company of the woolly creatures over people.
“You make me sound frivolous, like I possess only fluff in my head,” she said, annoyed. “I do maintain some intelligence, meager though it may be.”
“You are very intelligent, Brenna,” he said. “My point was that we both know you will never be happy living this life here. You will miss the gaiety of London and the social whirl, your friends, your family, everything I cannot give you at Beckwith Hall.”
Wanting to deny this, she opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it closed just as quickly. Was she entirely certain he
was incorrect? She was currently focused on giving him a healthy child and trying to find some common ground between them on which to build a marriage.
What about after the babe was born? Would she be satisfied to spend the rest of her days in this lovely but somewhat isolated manor house?
He continued. “I loved once, Brenna, and you know how that ended. I cannot give you the love you deserve. Will you be happy to share my bed and carry my children without love?” He paused. “I know not wanting a loveless marriage was one of the reasons you offered the bargain to the highwayman. Now you are in one.”
Deep inside her, she knew he was right. He’d never lied to her or promised anything. And in spite of his moods and ill humors, she was already half in love with him. Loving a man who did not return that love was a hopeless prospect indeed.
“I assume from your silence that I have struck a cord in you.” He came to her and touched the side of her face. “I think it best if we return to our marriage of convenience and accept what we cannot change.”
She wanted to deny everything, to convince him she was fully devoted to her marriage. But she was not entirely convinced herself. Success in bed did not a perfect marriage make.
Thankfully, she was no longer the moony-eyed innocent she was after the first night they’d spent together, thinking she was in love with a stranger, hoping her prince had finally come to rescue her. As a grown woman, she had to accept her fate. Everything she’d fought her father against had come to fruition. How she went forward with her life depended on her.
Still, falling in love was not a dream easily forgotten. Not when Richard was standing in front of her now, as handsome as any fairy-tale prince.
She could not let him see how deeply hurt she was that he could so easily dismiss her. She had her pride. She’d lean on that pride during the months ahead.
“I agree,” she forced out, her heart breaking. “I accept your terms. From this night forward, my door will be locked to keep temptation in check.”
With her spine straight and her head high, Brenna walked
into the sitting room, locked the door behind her, and allowed silent tears to fall.
H
e might well have slapped her. The sadness in her eyes made him long to go to her, to say something to ease her pain.
She was carrying his child and deserved better than he could offer. She should be in London, falling in love. Instead she was married to a man who held himself from her.
He was a coldhearted bastard.
If only he
could
love her. She had everything a man could want in a wife: beauty, good humor, strength. Even the temperamental side of her intrigued him. He knew she’d be an excellent mother, too. She had much love to give.
Sadly, she’d come too late into his life. Millicent’s betrayal and the death of the baby had hardened his heart.
And not even Brenna could heal his damaged soul.
S
ara, have you seen my silver brush?” Brenna was on her hands and knees, looking under the bed for the item, when a maid arrived with freshly washed linens for the bed. “I used it this morning, and now it is missing.”
Sara sat the linens on the bed and dropped down beside her. She glanced around the space. “I don’t see it, Milady. Have you asked Agnes?”