A Convenient Bride Page 13

  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.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  A shiver slipped down her spine. The emotion in his words left her troubled. She had to pray Anne was hale and happy. The idea of raising her child alone, after Richard was hanged for the murder of Mister Lockley, knotted her stomach.

  “You must put aside the notion of killing the man,” she scolded. “And keep your mind looking for the positive. For now you must accept that your steward is still searching for her and all will be well.”

  He looked at her sidelong. “I do not remember you seeing the world with such optimism,” he said, his tone flat. “I thought you a bit of a termagant from our first meeting.”

  Her thoughts turned dark. “How dare you call me shrewish? I am a woman of good humor. It was your grim expressions and grumbles that were the source of my sour moods. Anyone who had to spend that many days traveling with you would feel the same.”

  “I had very little cause to be happy,” he admitted, to her surprise. He pulled his hand free. “Even you could not expect levity when my sister was missing at the hands of a letch. I think a sour mood was acceptable, considering the situation.”

  Brenna sat for a long pause, processing his comment. She knew he was not talking only about his missing sister. Much of his history was bleak. There was very little in his life for him to smile about.

  Finally, she said, “I vow to change that
, Husband. I intend to bring laughter into this household. Our child will not be raised in a grim mausoleum.”

  She rose and left him to take her words as he would.

  They both needed happiness. It was some months since she’d laughed wholeheartedly just for the sheer joy of doing so. It was Lucy and her teasing that kept her from becoming quite sour.

  Though she’d been out of sorts and angry after learning of Simon’s plans to wed her to Lord Abbot, she vowed to reclaim her joy. She was married to a man she, oddly enough, felt great affection for and was about to be a mother. What was there not to be happy about?

  Richard stared out the open door. His wife had not lost her headstrong nature. Though she’d accepted Miriam’s and Bethany’s places at the head of the table without comment, he’d seen the agitation in her eyes. The two women had no idea what a formidable foe they had in his wife. If they expected weakness in the city-born Brenna, they would soon learn their mistake.

  For a moment, he considered warning the pair, then changed his mind.

  Bethany had gotten too used to playing mistress of the house, and Miriam, well, he was not entirely sure what went on in her head. Whatever their plans had been regarding him had been shattered with Brenna’s arrival. It would be interesting to see how this all played out.

  He smiled. Lud help the person who underestimated his bride.

  “Can I get you anything else, My Lord?” the maid asked, turning his attention back to the moment.

  “No thank you, Fanny. I feel the need for a ride this morning. Can you ask one of the footmen to call for my horse?”

  “Yes, Milord.” She curtsied and trotted off.

  A ride on this cool fall morning would go far to clear his head. Brenna’s arrival and the surprising news of the babe left him unsettled. Wanting her with stunning intensity was not the same as loving her or wanting the marriage.

  And he knew that not all women died in childbirth. It was the almost violent nature of Millicent’s death that gave him nightmares for a long time afterward.

  He’d loved her as one loves a childhood friend. Now, years later, he still couldn’t shake the irrational fear that he might fall in love with, and lose, Brenna.

  He wasn’t certain he could survive it.

  With Lucy keeping her company and acting as a watchdog of sorts, Brenna—with the help of Mrs. Beal and the butler, Joseph, who had found a map of the hall buried in Andrew’s desk—was off.

  Brenna and Lucy took almost three hours exploring the upper two floors, including the attic, even chasing a mouse, leading Brenna to make a note to request more household cats.

  “I do so hate those little creatures. I would be content to leave them be if they just stayed outside,” she said, climbing off the chair after Lucy chased it under a wardrobe.

  “Let us pray there are no rats,” Lucy remarked dryly.

  Brenna grimaced. “Do not tease.”

  Lucy giggled. “I am surprised there is even one mouse. This house is so clean that even the dust motes are fearful of making an appearance, lest they end up in the ash bin.”

  Looking around the upstairs parlor, Brenna nodded. “I wonder what the maids would do if I left my stockings scattered on the floor?”

  A male voice interrupted. “You would be locked in the closet until you vowed to pick up after yourself.”

  Brenna startled, and Lucy squeaked. They spun around in unison to see Richard standing in the open doorway.

  Wearing dusty riding clothes, Brenna’s heart fluttered as she scanned his handsome face.

  “Mrs. Beal worried you might have become lost, and I offered to launch a search.” He stepped into the room and walked over to Brenna. He looked down at the map in her hand. “Are you enjoying your exploration?”

  “Very much so,” Brenna replied, holding his gaze. “There is much to discover.”

  Richard looked around the room, allowing her to examine his profile. He had the small scar under his left eye and a few crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Both gave him a rakish air.

  When his attention returned to her, he locked onto her gaze. Brenna wetted her bottom lip with her tongue. Richard watched the movement with great interest. Brenna stopped breathing.

  Lucy cleared her throat. “I’d forgotten that I was to help Mrs. Beal with…something. Perhaps we can continue our tour after lunch?” Without waiting for a reply, Lucy sent her a knowing look and hurried out the door.

  “You have an interesting companion,” Richard said, frowning. “Wherever did you find her?”

  “She has decided to match us,” Brenna admitted, ignoring his question. Lucy’s past was their secret. “She has a romantic heart.”

  “Hmm.” He moved closer. “I thought we were already matched.” He reached out to finger the ribbon at her waist. “I think the child is proof of that.”

  Brenna wanted to slip her hands around his waist and bury her face in his dusty coat. “Strangers marry. Romantics hope for the emotional attachment. Love.”

  “Romeo and Juliet had romantic love,” he offered. “See what that got them.”

  Smiling, Brenna shook her head. “You truly are a man who keeps his heart carefully guarded.”

  “It is better than the man who thinks he loves every woman who crosses his path. That man is a fool.”

  She thought for a moment. She knew such men. “Perhaps.” A movement caught her eye. The mouse had darted out from under the wardrobe and was running along the wall to the door. She squawked and scrambled back onto the recently vacated chair.

  Richard spun around. Clearly not knowing what to expect, he backed up to shield her from harm. She grabbed the shoulder of his coat with one hand and pointed a shaky finger with the other.

  “Mouse!” Brenna cried, as the furry body scurried from beneath the wardrobe to the open doorway and vanished out the door.

  The tension in his body eased. It took another moment to realize he was shaking. At first she thought perhaps the mouse had frightened him, also, until she realized he was laughing.

  She smacked him on the shoulder. “This is not funny. Have you ever had a mouse run up your skirt?” He turned, his chuckle filling the room. Cad. “Well, I have. It is positively terrifying.”

  He shook his head and scooped her into his arms. “It isn’t the mouse that amuses me, my dear, it is knowing that my fearless wife can be terrorized by a creature small enough to fit into a teacup.”

  She wanted to struggle, but the fear of the mouse returning kept her from demanding release. “When an eight-year-old girl suffers the feel of tiny claws climbing up her stocking, she should not be ridiculed for her girlish screams.”

  “I assume you are speaking of your brothers?”

  She scowled. “They are an unsympathetic pair; Simon more than Gabriel. He did enjoy tormenting me for my fear. I still think he was working together with that mouse.”

  Richard chuckled again, and Brenna realized that although it was at her expense, she liked the sound. He seldom found amusement around her, and she silently thanked the mouse for its intervention on her behalf.

  Perhaps she should skip adding more cats to the household.

  Taking advantage of the turn of events, she snuggled against him and pressed her face against his neck. He smelled of spice and outdoors.

  “Do you think the mouse is gone?” she asked. He murmured something to the affirmative but did not release her. She played with his hair. “I certainly hope so. Maybe you should hold me for another minute in case it returns.”

  If he sensed her game, he said nothing. The clock clicked for a moment. Then, “I believe you are safe now.” Slowly, he lowered her to the floor.

  Disappointment welled. Still, she’d stolen a moment and would be satisfied with that. For now.

  Stepping back, she met his eyes. “I should find Lucy and continue the tour.”

  Richard tucked her hand under his arm. “Not until you’ve eaten. I’ll not have you starve my child.”

  The concern
in his voice sent a rush of warmth through her bones. She smiled. “I promise not to miss a single meal, My Lord. Our babe will be born plump and hearty.”

  Those words came back to haunt her a week later when the chamber pot became her most treasured companion.

  Brenna brushed her hair back from her face and slowly pushed, wobbling, to her feet. “I wish I had not eaten those eggs for breakfast.” She walked to the basin to clean her teeth while Lucy watched.

  “Poor dear,” Lucy said. “You are so pale.”

  Peering in the mirror, Brenna grimaced. There was no color in her cheeks. “The last two mornings have been trying. But it does not stop with the arrival of the noon hour.”

  “I thought pregnancy nausea only came in the morning?”

  “Morning, afternoon, evening,” Brenna grumbled. “I spent most of last evening racing for the chamber pot. We must ask Cook not to make pickled fish.”

  Lucy bit her lip. “I will make a note to tell her.”

  Beneath her gown, Brenna’s stomach recoiled. It took all her will not to return to the pot. “You will understand my misery when you are caught with a child of your own. I certainly do not look forward to the months ahead.”

  Lucy walked over and put her hands on her friend’s shoulders. “I shall ask that your breakfast be limited to toast and tea. Eggs shall be banned from your plate.”

  Brenna smiled and turned to hug her friend. “What would I do without you?”

  “It will be another week or two before you have to find out,” Lucy replied. “I should hear from Franklin soon.”

  The idea of losing Lucy was disheartening. But she would not be selfish and voice her regrets aloud. Lucy had her own family to build. She could not live here at the hall forever.

  “Have you heard from your husband?”

  “I have only that one letter. I assume he is still in France and will return by the end of the month.”

  Part of Brenna hoped his return would be delayed, but she squashed the wish. Though Bethany and Miriam had been on good behavior, she’d seen them whispering together and sending unhappy glances her way when they thought she wasn’t looking. She worried that they were plotting some misdeeds and liked that Lucy was watching over her.