The Viscount's Bride Read online

  “I am quite certain she will recover from her disappointment when she discovers Chloe is to marry my cousin and live near Belle,” Justin said. “Of course, Chloe will remain with us until the wedding.”

  Arthur cleared his throat. “Her home is still at Braddon Hall until she marries. I’ve no doubt Lady Ralston would like her daughter with her.”

  “Maria may come here and stay with us,” Belle said. “I intend to write to her today. Also, of course, she will want to be present for the small party we will hold in honour of the betrothal. You will be invited as well.”

  “A party? I would think it more appropriate if such an affair was held at Braddon Hall.”

  Everything was going much too fast. “I would rather there was no party at all.” They all turned to look at her. “If you will pardon me, I would like to go to my bed-chamber.”

  Belle instantly looked contrite. “Oh, Chloe, of course you must. I have no doubt you must be feeling quite confused. Shall I go with you?”

  “No. I shall be fine.” She wanted to be by herself.

  “I will escort you.” Brandt moved away from the window.

  “It is not necessary.”

  “But I wish to.”

  Out in the hall, she stopped and looked up at him. “I do not need an escort.”

  “Not even your fiancé?”

  “You are not really my fiancé.” She started to move away.

  He caught her arm. “But I am.”

  “We are only pretending.”

  “Not until you officially cast me aside,” he said lightly, but there was something in his eye that made her think he did not find it amusing at all.

  Her heart started beating in that odd way again and she felt that peculiar flicker of panic. He dropped her arm. “I will take you to your room. It would not do if we are seen disagreeing so quickly.”

  They did not speak until they reached the door of her bedchamber when she forced herself to meet his eyes. “Thank you, Lord Salcombe.”

  “What happened to my given name? Now that we are betrothed, do you no longer plan to use it?”

  “Of course. I…I am just rather confused.”

  He looked at her for a moment. “Quite understandable. In the space of twenty-four hours you have expected to wed three men.”

  She felt as if he had struck her. It sounded so callous. She turned away before he could see her expression.

  “Damn it, Chloe, that is not what I meant to say.”

  “It is quite true.” Her voice wobbled and to her dismay tears suddenly pricked her lids.

  “Are you crying?”

  “No.” She opened her door. “G…good day.”

  He stepped around so that he was facing her. With gentle fingers he lifted her chin. “You are crying. I beg your pardon. I did not mean to say something so damnably stupid.” His expression was rueful. “I only meant to say you have good reason to be confused. I am confused.”

  “If you wish to stop this now, I will not mind.”

  “No.” He dropped his hand away. “I do not wish to stop this now. How would that look? Besides, you’d end up with Denbigh again.” He stepped away from her. “I will see you at dinner.”

  “Very well.” She forced herself to meet his eyes. She should not be arguing with someone so determined to save her from a horrible marriage. “Thank you. You are very kind.”

  “I am not kind at all,” he said abruptly. His gaze fell to her mouth and then he jerked it away. “Good afternoon, Chloe.” He turned on his heel and left.

  She watched him, a strange sense of loss creeping over her. Nothing seemed right any longer. She should be grateful to him, but instead she felt horrible that he had felt it necessary to come to her rescue in such a way. All of the things she had thought he was were completely untrue.

  Now she had ruined his life as well.

  —

  What the devil had come over her? Brandt had returned to stare at her closed door. He’d fully expected her to take him to task and instead she had looked as if she thought he was about to beat her. The way she said his name….He’d rather have her call him by his title if she intended to address him in that damnably contrite voice.

  Hell. He raised his hand to knock and then dropped it. He could hardly stand here demanding she tell him what was wrong. She would probably retreat even further.

  Which was perhaps for the best. He ran a hand through his hair and turned from her door. As much as he might want to tease her, he had no doubt the betrothal would end when the two months had passed. In all truth, despite the attraction he felt for her, she was not precisely the sort of calm, sensible wife he wanted.

  Just as he was not the sort of comfortable husband she wanted. He shoved the unwelcome thought aside.

  It was perhaps better if they did not appear to be too fond of one another.

  Chapter Six

  The soft knock startled Chloe from the daze she’d been in ever since Brandt had left her an hour ago. A book lay open on her lap, but reading had proved impossible. She had finally given up and curled up in the chair, staring out of the window at the clouds gathering in the distance over the water.

  Belle entered the room and moved to Chloe’s side. “Why did you not tell us that Arthur had plans to marry you to Lord Denbigh? If I had known, if we had known, we would have stopped him.”

  “He threatened to cut off my allowance and I did not want that. I have been helping Mama a little, you know she never has any idea of economy and I did not want her to go without. Lord Denbigh showed an interest in London, but then I became ill and I heard no more about him until Arthur wrote that we had been invited to Denbigh Hall. I knew nothing about Lord Denbigh’s offer until Arthur arrived.” She avoided Belle’s eyes. “Then I thought that perhaps I might find another husband.”

  “Sir Preston?” Belle asked gently.

  Chloe drew in a breath. “It was most ridiculous of me. He was only being kind. Oh, Belle, I was so wicked. I enticed him away to the conservatory and then asked him to kiss me. Then when he offered to marry me I knew it was only because he felt obligated.”

  “I see.” Belle was silent for a moment. “He is very kind and very decent and I’ve no doubt he considers you a friend. I do not suppose you have had many men that have been your friend. Under the circumstances, I can understand why you thought of him in that way, but I do not think you would have suited.”

  “I know that now. Oh, Belle, I have made such a fool of myself.”

  “I do not think Sir Preston will say anything. Or Brandt.”

  “I cannot marry Brandt, you know.”

  “Why not?”

  “We are not at all suited either and, besides, I do not think he really wants to marry me. He felt obliged to offer for me so I would not have to marry Lord Denbigh.”

  Belle looked at her. “Then why did you accept his offer?”

  “He gave me no choice. He said if I did not he would abduct me.” She was beginning to feel a little annoyed.

  Instead of expressing outrage, Belle’s lips twitched as if she wanted to laugh. “Oh, dear. I will own that doesn’t sound like a man who feels too obligated. If you really believe you are not suited, then you can change your mind. Justin and I will always help you or Maria if you are in need. But it would be best if you waited before deciding you wish to call off the betrothal. It will look most odd if you cry off right away. And there is Lady Kentworth to consider as well. She has threatened to spread it about you were seen leaving the assembly with Sir Preston. I know you would never want such a malicious thing spread about. At least if that should happen we can put it about that it was Brandt you left with. And that was when he made his offer.” She smiled a little. “And if you wait, you might find Brandt suits you very well after all.”

  “I doubt it.” Chloe plucked at the cover. It all seemed very logical but somehow Belle’s assumption was quite irking. “I doubt he thinks I suit him either. He said I should wait for at least two months before breaking o
ff the betrothal.”

  “Did he?” Belle started and then laughed. “I must say it doesn’t sound the most promising way to begin a betrothal with both parties intending to cry off. Oh, dear, what a muddle! At least we will have you with us for another two months and who knows what might happen during that time?” She stood. “I came to help you dress for dinner.” She looked at Chloe’s face. “Please do not look so disgruntled. It is not a death sentence, you know. Brandt is not so very dreadful. There are any number of women who would envy you.”

  Chloe rose. “Well, I am not one of them. He is not the sort of man I want to marry.”

  “But I thought you and Brandt have agreed you won’t marry.”

  “We did.”

  Somehow she did not think Belle was taking her at all seriously, particularly when she cheerfully said, “Then there is nothing to fret over. And one more thing, which should make you happy. Arthur is to leave Devon tomorrow so you can enjoy the picnic without his disapproving countenance. He is still rather disgruntled that we are not holding the betrothal party at Braddon Hall. However, he has consented to return with Maria in time for your party here.”

  Chloe’s frowned at the closed door after Belle left. Well, she intended to approach this betrothal in a practical, rational fashion. She certainly did not intend to make sheep’s eyes at Brandt or bring his name into every conversation the way some of the young ladies did who had become engaged in the past Seasons. Even Serena had seemed to interject Charles’s name a little too often into conversations and now into her letters. No, she would behave with the utmost dignity. She had no intention of making a fool of herself again.

  —

  To Chloe’s dismay, the next day was perfect for a picnic. Already dressed in her riding habit, she stood at the window, hoping to spot some indication that rain was imminent, but the clouds were fluffy and startlingly white against the cerulean blue sky.

  After the events of the past two days she felt little desire to go on a picnic, particularly one that included Sir Preston, Emily and Lady Kentworth. And Brandt.

  She closed her eyes for a moment. How had this ever happened? She was betrothed to the arrogant, high-handed Lord Salcombe; a man she had detested the first time she had met him for his cold disdain towards Belle. Even after Belle had told her that in the end he had been responsible for bringing her and Justin together, she could not persuade herself to like him.

  Except her dislike was proving more and more difficult to maintain. He and Belle treated each other with the easy familiarity of old friends and Chloe had no doubt he would do everything in his power to protect Belle and Julian if anything should happen to Justin. And how could she detest a man who treated Julian with such gentle care or showed such interest in Will and Caroline? Yesterday, when he apologised, his arrogance gone, she had glimpsed the eager, vulnerable youth he might once have been, and she had known he was someone she could like very, very much.

  And for whatever reason, he had offered to marry her in order to save her from Denbigh.

  She turned away from the window and wished she did not feel so confused. She would much rather think of him as an enemy, continue to keep him at arm’s length. It would be much safer.

  Also she did not want to see Waverly, the house he said would be hers if they married. She had no idea why that made her feel so uncomfortable.

  Perhaps she could plead a headache. She did have a very slight one that sometimes resulted when she slept poorly, but they generally did not get much worse as long as she was not in the sun for very long. Certainly that would be an understandable excuse to not go to the picnic.

  She would write a note now.

  A few minutes after sending the note, she heard a knock on her door. She opened it and nearly jumped when she saw Brandt. “Belle said you had the headache,” he said without preamble. His expression was cool.

  “Well, yes. It is just a little one.” Taken aback, she had no time to formulate a more believable response.

  “Are you certain? Or do you merely wish to avoid certain persons today?”

  She had no doubt the heat flooding her cheeks gave her away. “That, also.”

  “You will need to see Kentworth and the others some time. Preferably today.”

  “I would rather not. It is true that I do not feel at all the thing,” she said defensively.

  “Then you might consider this.” He rested his forearm against the door jamb. “Justin has decided it would be wise to informally announce the betrothal before the meal today. It would be best if you were there as well. Unless you would prefer the neighbourhood to speculate that the thought of marriage to me has sent you into a decline. Sir Preston might feel obliged to offer you marriage again in order to save you from my clutches.” There was a slight smile at his mouth that did not quite reach his eyes.

  “Do you believe he might do that?” She could not think of anything more horrible at this point.

  “Do you wish him to?” His smile suddenly looked rather dangerous.

  “No, of…of course not. It would be the most terrible muddle. It would overset Em…everyone.” She took a deep breath. “If you think it best, then I will go.”

  He straightened. “Are you certain you are well enough to ride today?” he asked abruptly.

  “I have the very slightest of headaches, but I will be fine as long as I am not in the sun for very long periods.”

  “Then you will ride with Belle and Julian in the barouche. Stay out of the sun and wear your hat. And let me know straight away if you begin to feel unwell. I will see you at the Haversham estate.”

  She was too astonished to reply and could only gape as he strode away. Whatever had come over him? First, he had not seemed to believe her at all and then he was suddenly concerned about her health. And then he dictated she was to ride in the carriage.

  He was completely incomprehensible. Just because they were betrothed did not mean he could order her about in such a way. Well, she had no intention of riding in the carriage as much as she might like to be with Julian and Belle. She would ride Maisy behind the carriage instead.

  —

  But as Chloe approached the edge of Waverly’s property, she began to wish she had travelled in the carriage with Belle after all. When she had ridden up to the carriage with Maisy, Justin had told her that with her horse’s dawdling pace, they would be fortunate if they arrived at Waverly in time to depart. She had best take the shortcut through the field with Brandt.

  She realised Brandt had not informed them that he wanted her to ride in the carriage. She could quite imagine his sardonic expression if she showed up at the stables looking for him now. Instead of going to find Brandt, she dallied around until she was certain he would be gone.

  By the time she reached the field at Haversham Hall where they were to meet the others, everyone had gone. Maisy had ambled along on her short legs, and if Chloe attempted to push her at all, she pinned her ears back and wheezed. She finally decided that they must cut through the sunny field rather than follow the path through the shady woods. The bright sun only increased her headache and now that she had finally reached Waverly’s property she felt almost dizzy.

  She urged Maisy forward, but once in the clearing near the old abbey, she halted again when she saw most of the guests had arrived. More dismaying, she could see no sign of the party from Falconcliff. Whatever would she tell Brandt when he came upon her?

  Brandt was nowhere in sight, but she spotted Sir Preston standing with Tom Coltrane and Mr Rushton. Her heart pounded and she berated herself again for coming alone. At least, if she had arrived with Belle and Justin, she would not have drawn nearly as much attention to herself as she would if she rode up by herself.

  “Chloe! Chloe!”

  Will stood on a section of the old stone wall, waving at her. What if he fell? She urged Maisy into a trot, but before she reached the wall, Will had jumped down. Her heart leapt to her throat when he stumbled, but he recovered and dashed towards her. “I was w
aiting for you! Why did you ride poor old Maisy? She can never keep up.” He gave the mare an affectionate pat on the neck.

  “Because she wanted an outing. Will, you should not be standing on the wall. It is crumbling and you could be hurt.”

  “I won’t be! Papa says I climb like a monkey. Look! I lost a tooth last night!” He grinned up at her, the missing tooth making him look even more endearing. “Come and sit with us! The groom brought Lion and he is sitting with Caroline. And we have a ball so I can help you practise your throws. You are getting much better,” he added encouragingly.

  “That would be very kind.” Throwing a ball with Will and sitting with Caroline and their nearly grown puppy appealed to her much more than mingling with the rest of the guests. She must face the others at some point, but perhaps if she put it off a little she would feel better prepared. She slid from Maisy and Jennings, one of the grooms, took the mare’s reins.

  Will grabbed her hand and led her across the grass and around the east wall of the abbey towards the shade of some tall trees. “Caroline and Lion are over there.”

  As they passed the gate leading to the abbey garden, they nearly collided with Lady Kentworth and her cousin, an elderly lady who acted as her companion. Lady Kentworth stopped and stared at Chloe. “I wonder that you dare show your face, but then I dare say because you are an Earl’s daughter and great friends with a Duchess you think you can be as brazen and bold as you wish!”

  The malice in her face made Chloe ill. Before she could say a word, Will marched forward and stared up at her, his face stern. “You are not to speak to Lady Chloe in such a way! You must apologise immediately.”

  Lady Kentworth’s mouth fell open. Her cheeks turned a dull, splotchy red. “You are impertinent and ill mannered. If you were my son you would be beaten soundly for such manners.”

  Chloe found her voice. “It was wrong of him to speak to you in such a way, but it is just as wrong of you to say such a thing to him.” She looked down at Will. “You must apologise to Lady Kentworth for speaking to her so rudely.”