The Accidental Bride (17 page)

‘Perish the thought,’ agreed Lizzie.

‘I tell you one normal thing we might do,’ John said, drawing his hand from her mouth, and bringing her hand to his for a reciprocating kiss. ‘We could have Brent and Tom over for a meal next weekend, perhaps. Maybe make a bit of an afternoon of it? A pool party or whatever? Would you like that?’

Lizzie considered the notion. On one hand, it would be fab, like the old days, hanging out with Brent. But on the other, ooh, entertaining, scary. Especially having to put on a good show for her lover’s brother. A brother who still lived in a stately home – well, at least some of the time – and who, unlike his sibling, hadn’t entirely abandoned his aristocratic heritage.

John laughed softly. ‘Well, I can tell from the hesitation that you’ve got qualms. But you shouldn’t have them. Tom won’t bite. He’s the sort of person nobody ever feels nervous with … and I can’t imagine how he could possibly fail to adore you on sight!’

‘Reports of my adorableness have been greatly
exaggerated. Especially by horny old goats who are banging me.’

John shook his head. ‘You are adorable. And I won’t hear otherwise,’ he said firmly, assuming a mock reproving tone. ‘And even though we two brothers mostly admire the desirable qualities in different sexes, Tom’s a man of discerning taste in beauty and character, just like I am.’

‘Well, if he’s as daft as you are, I’m sure he and I will get on like a house on fire.’

Lunging forward, John cupped her face and kissed her hard, a stern, masterly kiss.

‘If I hadn’t already spanked that lush bottom once today, I’d give it another going over. You really are the most provoking, smart-mouthed woman.’ Not allowing her to get a word of answer in, he kissed her fiercely again.

After a tussle, they broke apart, and brushing her hair from her face, John said, ‘Seriously, Lizzie, there’s nothing to worry about. My brother is a very sweet guy, and he’s far easier to get along with than I am. He’s got a sense of humour, and before you say anything, he’s not in the least bit stuck up. He cares even less about having a title and all that than I do. He does love Montcalm, and the family, despite the obnoxious way the old man’s treated him in the past, but he’s just an ordinary bloke in a lot of ways. I think you’ll really like him.’

‘If he’s anything like you, I know I’ll like him.’

It was the simple truth, despite her nerves. John’s face glowed as he stared at her, strangely befuddled, as if she wasn’t the only one unsure of herself and with doubts about her desirability and suitability to be loved.

‘Thank you,’ he said softly. ‘And you will like him. Let’s fix something up for next weekend, eh? We could have a
buffet. A barbie, even. Very casual, very easy, no ceremony. We could all just slop about in shorts and bathing suits, and eat too much and drink too much. Brent and Tom could stay over … We’ve got masses of room.’ He leant forward, very intent. ‘And remember, you don’t have to do anything at all but enjoy yourself. The Thursgoods will be here to do all the cooking and hospitality stuff. You don’t have to lift a finger, sweetheart.’

Despite her initial qualms, Lizzie felt a sudden excitement. Eagerness. She’d missed seeing Brent every day. She wanted to know how he was getting on with this man he so obviously cared about. And she was curious about John’s brother.

But there was one thing that still bothered her.

‘Could we invite Shelley and Sholto to this beach blanket barbecue extravaganza too? It doesn’t seem fair to leave Shell out of this, somehow, and if she comes, I want her to know that her bloke is welcome too.’

‘Of course, you ninny! The more the merrier!’ John reached over and tousled her hair playfully. ‘This is your home, love. It’s yours to invite whoever you want to. Your friends are my friends now, you know that.’

He made it sound so easy. Perhaps it was easy? Although there were friends and people in his life that she would still be anxious about for a long time yet, perhaps for ever.

No, don’t go there. Don’t think about her. Or his parents. Live for the moment!

John’s eyes narrowed, as if he’d sensed the thought, and he moved closer, embracing her, silently reassuring. The warmth of his body, and the waft of his breath against her neck, renewed her confidence.

‘So, who’s going to invite whom? Shall I invite Brent and
tell him to bring his boyfriend?’ She grinned at him as they drew apart. ‘Or will you invite Tom and tell him to bring
his
boyfriend?’

John sat up, and reached for his phone on the bedside table. ‘What say I invite Tom and Brent, and you invite Shelley and her friend Sholto?’

‘What, now?’

‘No time like the moment.’ John was already scrolling through his address book. ‘And it gives them time to clear their calendars.’

Lizzie burst out laughing. ‘Well, I’m not sure Shell has much of a calendar to clear, Mr Business Tycoon Man … But you’re right. She and Sholto both do bar work. At your Waverley Metro, I might add. So it’d be handy for them to have time to rearrange shifts if they need to.’

John waggled his eyebrows at her as if to say, ‘Of course I’m right!’ while his phone’s call tone beeped.

‘Hey, brother of mine, how do you fancy a pool party at Dalethwaite Manor next weekend? I understand your new boyfriend is a friend of my girlfriend, you sly devil. I think it’s about time we all got together for the formal introductions and whatever. What do you say?’

John’s instant, beaming grin said the reaction was positive.

‘So … we’re invited to a party,’ said Tom Wyngarde Smith, beaming as he set his phone on the bedside table. ‘Should be interesting. I’m really looking forward to meeting this incredible woman who both my brother and my boyfriend constantly rave about.’

Brent sat up too, not quite sure how he felt about the prospect of the weekend to come. He loved Lizzie. He always would. But he loved Tom too. He couldn’t imagine how either one of them could not like the other, really, but life was weird sometimes, and you never knew what could happen. Especially things like ending up in bed, at the Waverley Grange Hotel, on a late Saturday afternoon, with a man you once had a one-night stand with – who also turned out to be your best friend’s boyfriend’s brother!

Tom had picked Brent up from the garden centre in his rather manky old Porsche at the end of his shift, and whisked him away here to the Waverley. The plan had been to have a healthy walk in the grounds, then early dinner, then bed. But somehow that had morphed into bed first, something Brent didn’t mind in the least.

‘You’ll like Lizzie,’ he said, studying Tom’s handsome face. ‘Really. She’s kind and fun and very intelligent, though she plays it down. And she’s astonishingly beautiful, something else she won’t believe when you try to convince her of it.’

Tom pursed his lips, those firm, shapely lips that were so quick to curve in a generous smile. Was he worried? Over Lizzie? Bloody hell, was he jealous? It seemed incomprehensible, and yet, Brent considered his own insecurities. The ones he’d always had, and the new ones, out and about with Tom, who was every inch a stunner in his own way as his elder brother was.

‘Look, I can’t deny that I’ve been with women in the past, and not only when I was an escort. I love Lizzie.’ He reached out, and grabbed his lover’s hand. ‘She is beautiful. I still think she’s gorgeous. But I love her as a friend now. Sex was good when we were together, but we both knew we weren’t really suited that way, not deep down.’

Tom laughed. His face lit up. Oh hell, that smile. John Smith had it too. It was a knockout. Beneath the sheet Brent’s cock started to stir again, even though they were fresh from pleasure. He could get a hard-on just from Tom’s smile, never mind the rest of his magnificently fanciable face and body.

‘I’m being a twerp, aren’t I?’ said Tom. ‘A nervous nelly, spooking over every desirable person of either sex that I think you might be lusting after.’

Brent swallowed. For a moment, emotion blocked his throat. It awed him that Tom could feel just the same way he did, and think of him as just the kind of ultimate lover that he considered Tom to be.

‘Yes, you’re an idiot. You’re the one I want. But if it’s any comfort, the twerpishness is pretty mutual.’

His heart thudded. He smiled back at Tom. He felt giddy.
This is it
, his heart beat out in a tattoo.
He’s the one. Really the one.

Not having to say anything, they fell into an embrace, Tom subsiding onto the pillows, on his back, strong, but, for the moment, yielding.

‘She’s good for John, you know, your Lizzie is,’ said the older man, when Brent lifted his face for a moment, gasping for air. ‘I don’t think he’s ever been this happy in his entire life. I mean … I’ve only spoken to him on the phone, but it’s in everything he says, in his tone of voice. He’s different, but in the best possible way.’ He gave a quizzical lift of his brows. ‘Probably sounds weird, given my brother’s success and wealth, but I think Lizzie is the making of him, I really do.’

Brent considered his lover’s words. ‘Well, I don’t know your brother all that well, so I’ve no frame of reference, but when I’ve seen them together they seem well matched. As if they’re meant to be together.’

Tom’s hands slid over Brent’s back. The touch was intimate, and yet a little distracted. He had more to say about his brother. Brent didn’t push for more kisses; he prepared to listen.

‘John hasn’t had a “steady” woman for a long time, and when he did have one, well, you wouldn’t believe the complications. Considering that he’s the looker of the family, Goldilocks has had the most tortuous luck with women!’

‘Goldilocks?’ Brent smiled. John Smith was a looker, and he did have the most remarkable blond hair. Not as gorgeous as his younger brother’s thick, wild brown locks, but lush, just the same.

‘Childhood nickname. Both George and I have dark hair. Well, George is getting a bit grey now, but it was dark once. We take after our mother’s side of the family, and John takes after Pa, who’s always had a bit of a lion’s mane, even if it’s shock-white now.’

Brent would have liked to find out more about the rest of the Wyngarde Smiths, these blue-blooded men with titles, lineage and the whole shebang. He hadn’t met them as yet. Tom’s cottage was on the edge of the park, a fair distance from the main house and formal gardens. But there might – would – come a time when it was unavoidable. If he took the job, at least, he’d very probably encounter members of the family when he was working. But it could be much more than that. Hell, he might be facing exactly the same quasi ‘in laws’ issues that Lizzie had ahead of her.

‘So, John’s women, what about them?’ John Smith’s romantic history was something he needed to know more about; because it impacted on Lizzie’s present and future, and her happiness.

Tom grasped his hand, and the two men lay on their sides, facing each other.

‘Well, for long enough now, he’s only really had short-term relationships. “Affairs”, I suppose you’d call them, although they’d barely merit the term. He just wasn’t interested in anything serious, after Clara … even after all these years. And being married to Caroline …’

Brent had heard these names mentioned in passing before, but he and Tom hadn’t really touched on Tom’s brother’s love life all that much. They’d been too busy enjoying their own.

‘Caroline was his wife, right? And Clara … a girlfriend? Fiancée? What?’

Tom heaved a sigh. ‘Well, I would have said she was the love of his life, until recently, but now Lizzie’s obviously taken that crown.’ He frowned. ‘The trouble is … Now that she’s lost his love for good and all, Clara might decide she wants it again, especially if she knows he’s with someone else. She’s like that.’

Brent kept silent, waiting for more. He felt that Tom was right about Lizzie’s status with her man, and the idea that this woman from John’s past might hurt her was chilling.

‘Clara was … is … poison. Beautiful poison. She fucked my brother over big style.’ Tom made a sound of exasperation, his words confirming Brent’s fears. ‘Jonny is the strongest, toughest, smartest man I’ve ever known, but love can make even otherwise intelligent men into total idiots.’

Against his will, Brent tensed, and Tom laughed. ‘Fret not. That is not the case with us!’

The sense of carousel, of elated giddiness, surged again, but Brent made a conscious effort to settle, stay quiet, to pay attention.

‘Clara chucked John over, just when he needed her. And then she fucking well did it again, years later, when he thought they were both older and wiser and had a real chance.’

Brent found it hard to imagine any woman chucking over John Smith. He had everything, looks, money, innate charm. Just like his brother.

‘Seems hard to believe, someone dumping your bro.’

‘Exactly,’ responded Tom. ‘But Clara was … is … Clara. Always looking for the bigger, better prize, or whatever. And the first time, well, he was the second son … and a jailbird. Not the greatest catch. So she broke up with him
by default. Just never visited him, never replied to letters and was gone by the time he got out.’

‘What a mare.’

‘You said it!’ Brent sensed there was clearly no love lost between Tom and John’s ex-lover. ‘Not sure why she dumped him the second time. She was technically between husbands then, and John was fairly loaded by that time.’ Tom paused, as if for effect. ‘Knowing Clara, she was probably paying him back for marrying her mother.’

Brent felt his jaw drop, and knew he was gaping like an idiot. ‘What the fuck? What are you on about?’

‘Oh, I guess you didn’t know. Which tends to suggest that Lizzie doesn’t know either.’ Tom’s eyes widened.

‘Know what?’

‘That Caroline, John’s ex-wife, is Clara’s mother.’

‘Jesus fuck! How the hell did that come about?’

Brent listened, rapt, sex with his gorgeous boyfriend almost forgotten, as Tom told the tale. The story of how Caroline had always fancied her daughter’s beautiful, golden boyfriend, and when Clara had treated John so badly, the older woman had done a crazy and also bizarrely compassionate thing. She’d asked him to marry her, in exchange for making him a rich, rich man in his own right.