Her Accidental Groom

by Nadine Millard

  “I like my life here,” she said wistfully. “And I want to be able to marry someone I choose. Someone I love.”

  Ben ignored the tug on his heartstrings.

  “And you – you said that you need a fiancé. Didn’t you?”

  “Well, yes,” he managed. “But not you.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and he felt like a heel. But if he thought she’d cry because he’d hurt her feelings, or swoon or any other nonsensical thing, he was very much mistaken.

  She raised a disdainful, regal brow, making him feel about an inch tall, then continued as though he hadn’t even spoken.

  “My lord, I have no more wish to be engaged to you as you do to me. Believe me,” she emphasised rather insultingly. “And if you think you can convince another lady to become engaged at short notice, in the depths of winter, with hardly any Society about, then by all means have at it.”

  Ben scowled but she wasn’t finished, the little hoyden.

  “And then of course there is the small matter of you not actually wanting to marry someone.”

  She smiled sweetly, paused expectantly.

  But he didn’t have a whole lot to say.

  “As far as I’m concerned, you need a fiancé for the sake of your tenants, whatever that means. And I need one until I can convince my father to return home without dragging me along to marry someone in whom I have no interest.”

  Her madness must be catching, for Ben was starting to see the merit in her madcap scheme.

  “And what happens when we don’t get married?” he asked.

  That gave her pause.

  Not for long, however.

  “We’ll simply call off the engagement,” she said breezily, as though that wouldn’t tarnish both their reputations.

  “Just like that, hmm?” he asked sardonically.

  She scowled up at him.

  “Fine,” she bit out. “We will deal with that when the matter arises.”

  “A well-executed plan then,” he drawled.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” She stamped her foot like a toddler.

  “You will get your bloody engagement, won’t you?” she swore, shocking him to his core. “And—and you will tell whomever it is that’s bribing you that I broke your poor, dear heart. They’ll feel too sorry for you to renege on whatever deal you’ve made.”

  Ben frowned, not only at her sarcasm but at her description of the situation.

  “Aunt Elizabeth is not bribing me,” he said.

  It wasn’t until her eyes widened that he realised what he’d let slip.

  “Lady Fortescue is forcing you to marry?” she asked curiously. “Why?”

  Ben had told her everything else, far more than he should.

  And he certainly didn’t care whether or not she had a good opinion of him.

  Why then was the idea of sharing the embarrassment of his empty pockets anathema to him?

  He’d rather walk over hot coals than admit his shameful secret to this hoyden of a woman.

  For reasons he didn’t care to examine, he was loathe to have her think of him as a failure.

  “It’s complicated, as I said,” he replied rather weakly. “It’s not bribery so much as — misplaced concern.”

  She frowned at him but then shrugged her shoulders, clearly not that interested.

  “That makes things even easier,” she said triumphantly. “Your aunt adores you, goodness knowns why, and she would never punish you for my breaking your heart.”

  She grinned victoriously, clearly feeling as though the entire thing were a fait accompli.

  He ignored her apparent disbelief that his aunt should love him, refusing to acknowledge it.

  “And you?” he insisted. “What would you do with yourself with your reputation in tatters?”

  She bit her plump, pink lip at his question, another thing he ignored. Or tried to.

  “Ladies' reputations do not recover from such things, Lady Natalia, as well you know. Besides,” he continued loudly when it looked as though she’d argue. She’d argue with a bloody tree, this one. “Once your father heard of the end of your engagement, he’d be straight back to England dragging you off again.”

  She was already shaking her head, her sable curls bouncing under the velvet bonnet. It was navy-blue, adorned with holly berries in a nod to the season, he assumed. Then he could only wonder at himself for even noticing such a thing.

  “Yes, but if I tell my father that you broke my heart, he won’t force me to marry someone. He’ll give me time to mourn your loss. Perfectly believable.” She paused and ran a critical eye over his person. “As long as you don’t act like yourself around him.”

  Ben muffled an oath under his breath.

  She was the most insulting, irritating brat he’d ever met.

  But he had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that her proposal, as mad as it was, could potentially solve all his problems.

  The problem with Aunt Elizabeth’s condition was that it meant tying himself to a woman he didn’t love for the rest of his life.

  He could possibly wait until the beginning of the next Season, hope that he miraculously fell in love with one of the many debutantes who paraded themselves around London every year, then announce the betrothal and receive his funds.

  But another six months waiting meant another six months of uncertainty and financial instability.

  Should he receive the money now, he could have his estates and his holdings not only in the black but positively thriving in that same amount of time.

  Plus, her way, he didn’t land himself with a wife forever.

  Though he wasn’t certain he could be civil to the chit for three weeks until her family returned to Russia, and he was damned sure she couldn’t be civil to him, his options were limited. As were hers.

  And for reasons he couldn’t even begin to understand, he wanted to help her so she wasn’t dragged to Russia, married off, and never seen by any of them again.

  But she was just so damned difficult.

  His circling thoughts were interrupted by an impatient sigh.

  Ben looked over to see her black leather kid boot beating incessantly against the frozen ground.

  “My father arrives in a week, Lord Staunton. Do you think you’ll be able to muddle through my idea and come up with an answer before then?” she asked, her voice dripping with saccharine acid. “I understand that you might be having trouble with the nuances.”

  “The only thing I’m having trouble with is the idea of putting up with you for three weeks, Lady Natalia,” he snapped back, earning a scowl.

  “But,” he continued, torn between thinking all his problems were about to be solved, and thinking that they were about to become infinitely worse. “As far as your idea goes—“

  He paused and watched as she held her breath, her glacial eyes widening in anticipation.

  God help us both, he thought before throwing his lot in.

  “I’m in.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  How bad could it be, really?

  Natalia eyed her reflection in the mirror, wondering if she had taken complete leave of her senses.

  Had she really gone ahead and asked the odious Lord Staunton to become engaged to her? Or at least pretend to?

  It had been more than a little humiliating, she mused, practically begging the man.

  And the horror in both his voice and expression had left a lot to be desired as far as she was concerned.

  But it was done.

  They’d agreed. Shook hands.

  She still had time to change her mind, of course. Her family wouldn’t arrive for another week.

  Lord Staunton had suggested they immediately discuss details, but it had been growing close to the dinner hour, and Natalia had needed to return home. Aunt Mary believed punctuality was next to Godliness.

  Now she stood facing her reflection in a pink satin evening gown, wondering if she should skip dinner altogether and instead cart herself off to Bedlam. She might be locked
up, but at least she could remain single.

  The clock chimed the hour, and Natalia moved quickly toward the drawing room.

  She had agreed to meet Lord Staunton tomorrow morning so they could discuss how to undertake what now seemed like a fairly foolish plan.

  It wasn’t that she would change her mind.

  A fiancé was a sure-fire way to get her father to forget his plan to marry her off to a stranger; Natalia was certain of that.

  And she was intrigued by Lady Fortescue’s reasons for bribing her nephew to marry because no matter what he said, it was bribery. The fact was that the lady wanted Lord Staunton engaged and Lord Staunton, for reasons unknown, needed to comply.

  Natalia rushed down the staircase, her mind still whirling.

  It was just that she had to pretend to be engaged to the creature. And she didn’t actually know how to pretend such a thing.

  Natalia had never been in love. Hadn’t even been close to it.

  For the past two years, Aunt Mary had been taking her to London for the Season. She’d danced, she’d flirted, she’d allowed gentlemen to escort her to the theatre and take her driving in Hyde Park.

  But not a single one of them had ever held her attention more than fleetingly.

  How did one act when one was betrothed? In love?

  She would imagine that she should at least want to be in the same room as her intended without wanting to plant him a facer. That was going to require some effort.

  Natalia arrived slightly breathless in the drawing room, just on the verge of being late.

  Her cousins had come home for the Yuletide season, their wives and children in tow. It was a joyous household to be sure. Far livelier than usual.

  In the ordinary way of things, Natalia would have been in the thick of it all. Playing with the children. Singing along to the pianoforte. Discussing politics and new farming methods with her cousins, though Aunt Mary found it vulgar for a lady to speak of such things and Natalia’s interest in them deplorable. To appease her aunt, she could also happily discuss the latest Parisian fashions with her cousins-in-law.

  But this evening her mind was five miles to the west, on a great big oaf of a man to whom she’d entrusted her future.

  Well, she told herself stoutly, there’s nothing for it but to plough ahead and make the most of a bad situation. After all, she mused as she pretended to listen to the carolling by the pianoforte, we’re both adults and will gain from this. It is in our best interests to get along. We shall have to be civil.

  ***

  “You’re standing on my toe, you ninny.”

  Ben threw his eyes heavenward and questioned aloud what he could possibly have done to have landed himself in this situation with this bloody nuisance.

  “You’re the one who told me to squeeze into this ridiculous spot,” he bit back.

  “Be quiet,” Natalia hissed, which was rich given she’d bloody started it.

  Having spent all of last evening and the short ride over here this morning telling himself that this was a good idea, Ben was fast forgetting the reasons why he’d agreed to this madcap scheme.

  And the longer he spent in the less than delightful company of the ice queen here, the more he felt like just walking away.

  The plan had been for them to meet at the river that bordered both estates, but since it had started to snow heavily at dawn, Ben had stupidly acted the gentleman and insisted on Natalia staying indoors.

  Now, not ten minutes into their clandestine meeting behind the heavy curtains in a small morning room that she insisted was never used by the family, Ben was starting to wish he’d locked her out in the blasted snow.

  “If we’re caught alone together, we won’t get away with a fake betrothal, you dolt,” she hissed, glaring up at him.

  Ben opened his mouth to answer her back just as harshly but at that moment, the low winter sun suddenly broke free from the snow clouds, shining directly onto Natalia where she stood at the French doors.

  For reasons beyond his comprehension, the sight of the sunlight lighting her hair, making it shine like a bright halo, glinting off the impossibly light blue of her eyes rendered him mute.

  He could only stare like the dolt she accused him of being.

  Ben couldn’t understand his reaction; the suddenly dry throat, the slam of desire that nearly took him off his feet.

  This was Natalia Soronsky, for God’s sake. She had been a thorn in his side for eight long years, albeit a beautiful one.

  And he couldn’t claim to be attracted to her wonderful personality.

  Even now she was scowling at him whilst he stood there, mute and idiotic.

  “What in heaven’s name is wrong with you?” She shook her head, a renegade curl falling over her cheek.

  An excellent question, Ben thought.

  Still, he remained quiet.

  Natalia huffed out an impatient breath, her green gown straining enough with the action to give him an apoplexy.

  “I don’t have time for your mind to catch up with mine, Lord Staunton. It would take a miracle, in any case.”

  Damn, but she was a viper.

  “Allow me to repeat the question that seems to have taken its toll on that poor, overused brain of yours.”

  Ben was too distracted by that lock of hair on her cheek to be as offended by her comment as he should be.

  “How are we supposed to act around each other? How do we act as though we are engaged? As though we are in love?”

  It was very likely the single most idiotic thing Ben had ever done or would ever do.

  But he couldn’t help himself.

  Without any real conscious thought, he reached out and smoothed the hair back from her cheek, mesmerised by the sudden blush of scarlet that stained the satiny smooth skin.

  “I think,” he began, his voice gravelly from the desire pulsing through his veins, “this is probably a good place to start.”

  And closing the distance between them, he captured her mouth in an explosive kiss.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Natalia had one brief moment where she wondered at Ben’s actions and at the strange something that unfurled inside her at the touch of his hand against her cheek before his lips were suddenly pressed against her own.

  Oh, good heavens, she thought, Benjamin Trafford is kissing me!

  And that was it as far as coherent thought went.

  She opened her mouth, whether to object or encourage him she couldn’t have said. But he swiftly took advantage of the action, deepening their kiss, his arms reaching out to pull her closer and press her body against his own.

  Shock, disbelief, and every other emotion Natalia had been feeling were quickly replaced by desire, hot and potent.

  Somewhere in the recesses of her jumbled thoughts she knew this shouldn’t be happening but lord, logic had no place in this. She had no power over the raging feelings he was awakening in her, causing her knees to buckle and her hands to grab hold of his riding coat for purchase.

  The kiss went on and on, his tongue delving into her mouth, his hands roaming, setting fire to her everywhere they went.

  She felt them dig into her hair, loosening her pins and sending her hair tumbling down her back.

  Still, she couldn’t stop him. Didn’t want to.

  This was Benjamin Trafford! Her childhood nemesis. The odious, arrogant, snobbish cad that she absolutely, categorically detested.

  How then, was he awakening in her a feeling unlike any she’d ever known? How was he making her feel as though her entire body were going up in flames?

  Natalia’s head was spinning, and she suspected that it wouldn’t be long before she ran out of air all together, but she’d rather stop breathing than stop kissing him.

  Suddenly, however, the decision was made for her, and Ben wrenched his mouth from Natalia’s.

  She felt utterly powerless as she stood there staring up at him, her breathing laboured as his own appeared to be.

  Having never been stuck fo
r words in her life, Natalia found herself unable to think of a single thing to say.

  But as her heart rate finally began to slow, a modicum of sense returned.

  She’d kissed Ben Trafford.

  She’d kissed him.

  But this was no use!

  The absolute last thing Natalia needed was to lose focus now. She had too much staked on their scheme.

  She couldn’t allow herself to do something as foolish as develop feelings for her fake fiancé!

  “That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” she said as stiffly as she could. But she rather thought the quiver in her voice ruined the effect slightly.

  Ben smiled crookedly, and Natalia was alarmed at how appealing she found it.

  “It wasn’t, hmm?”

  You are not allowed to find him charming, Natalia scolded herself firmly.

  His sudden black oath was more of a reflection of her current feelings than his light-hearted question.

  “It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, either,” he said ruefully.

  “Well, you started it,” Natalia bit out.

  Now that her mind had stopped spinning and her insides had settled down, she was beginning to feel acutely embarrassed.

  While she watched, Ben heaved a shaky sigh.

  “Yes, I did.”

  They stared at each other for an age, and Natalia couldn’t for the life of her think of what to say to break the tension.

  “So, what did you have in mind then?” Ben asked, and Natalia felt a wave of gratitude that he was moving the conversation on to less dangerous territory.

  There would be time enough later to obsess about what had just happened.

  But with only a week until her family arrived, they still had to focus on the task at hand.

  “W-we should know each other. Really know each other,” she said, stepping back, away from the scent of sandalwood that was suddenly so tempting, away from the chest that she now knew was rock solid, the shoulders that she now knew were broad and strong.

  His answering grin was positively wolfish.

  “What’s your favourite colour?” she burst out, lest he say something flirtatious. She didn’t think her poor heart could take any more flirting from him.