The Wedding Bargain

by Victoria Alexander

  “Of course it's fair. Max told me himself everything was fair. Besides, this sojourn in the country is not my idea. Grandmother has this event every year right in the midst of the season, and I would not presume to ask her to change her plans. It's always been terribly inconvenient, although I must admit for once I am rather pleased with her timing. It will give me a chance to think without the distraction of wondering what Max is up to and how he's progressing.”And the opportunity to come up with a feasible plan to defeat him. “You are coming, aren't you?”

  “Of course, if you still wish me to.” Cynthia stood and stared down at Pandora. “Because I will admit you are right about one thing: you, my dearest friend, are indeed a fool.”

  Pandora rose to her feet. “How can you say that to me?”

  “Because it's true. You are the one who has long encouraged me to assert myself and speak my mind. Very well.” She drew a deep breath. “As fond as I am of you, I see it quite clearly. The earl is an unequaled catch and will make you a perfect match.”

  “If he's so perfect, you marry him.” She hated the petty note in her voice, but the very last thing she needed was her closest friend telling her what she preferred to ignore.

  “I would without a moment's hesitation, given the chance.”

  “Fine. If--when--I win, I shall select you for his bride.”

  “Excellent. I can assure you I will appreciate him and all that he has to offer.” Cynthia grabbed her pelisse and gloves and headed toward the door.

  “What about love?” Pandora shot the words like an arrow. “I know you wish for love as much as I do.”

  Cynthia swiveled back sharply. “Of course I do. But Trent is a good man and it would take little for any sane, rational woman to love him with her whole heart and soul.”

  “And I'm not sane and rational?”

  “Not when it comes to this,” Cynthia snapped. “Furthermore, I cannot imagine, with time, Lord Trent would not love her back.”

  “Well I, for one, do not care to risk my future on that questionable premise.”

  Cynthia shook her head. “You are the most intelligent woman I know. I admire your strength, your courage, and your willingness to do exactly as you please. But here and now I must say I have never heard you say anything so--well, stupid.”

  “Stupid?” Pandora gasped.

  “Stupid.” Cynthia squared her shoulders. “You've told me a hundred times: life is not worth living without a certain amount of risk. Were you wrong?”

  “No, but--”

  “Then how on earth can you stand there and say you are unwilling to risk your future?”

  Whether it was the heretofore unnoticed strength in Cynthia's manner or the underlying truth of her comment, for once, words failed Pandora.

  “Just as I suspected, you can't.” Cynthia nodded crisply, turned, and strode from the room.

  Pandora sank down on the chaise and stared in stunned disbelief. Cynthia had never spoken to her quite like this before. Why, Pandora was always the one to take the lead, to speak her mind, and yes, to encourage a certain amount of risk.

  What had happened to her?

  In spite of her protests, was she falling in live with Max? And was it the most terrifying feeling she'd ever known?

  What was she going to do?

  Abruptly a thought popped to the surface. Surely Cynthia wasn't serious about her willingness to marry Max? Certainly her declaration carried no more weight than that of any comment tossed off in the heat of anger? Still…

  Pandora sighed and fell back on the chaise, slapping the cloth back on her forehead. Cynthia had finally become all that Pandora had wished her to be. She had taught her too well. What was she going to do with the girl now?

  More to the point: what was she going to do about Max? How was she going to keep him from winning the game and stealing her heart in the process?

  And how long could she continue to ignore the nagging thought that perhaps on both counts, it was already too late.

  “I daresay, Max, I do apologize.” Laurie poured healthy portions of Max's best brandy into a pair of crystal snifters.

  Bloody hell. Last night had not gone at all as he had planned. He'd assumed the Hellion would be furious with Max and use the incident as an excuse to dissolve their bargain. Instead, Max was somewhat battered and two steps closer to marriage.

  “I never would have sent Jacobs to drive you had I suspected he would make such an error.” He put the stopper back into the decanter and turned to face his friend, holding out the second snifter in an age-old offer of peace. “Imagine, confusing the Lion's Lair with the Lion and Serpent.”

  “It is hard to believe,” Max said dryly, and accepted the drink.

  “Be assured, Max, I shall take him to task for this.”

  “Oh, don't be too hard on him, he is getting on in years. It is a bit of a surprise, though. Aside from his hearing, I understood Jacobs to be most reliable.”

  “Yes, well…” Laurie drew a long swallow of the liquor, savoring the satisfying sting burning his throat. He knew from the tone in Max's voice as well as the look in his eye he didn't for a moment believe Jacobs was responsible. “Decent of you to be so understanding, given that you do look rather the worse for the experience.”

  Max tenderly fingered a bruise on the side of his jaw. “I must admit, at first, I did plan to demonstrate to you precisely what you missed, but all things considered, there was no real harm done. The evening was successful.” He sank into one of two leather wing chairs flanking the fireplace, cupped his hands around his glass and grinned. “Quite successful.”

  “Somehow, I cannot bring myself to congratulate you.” Laurie settled into the remaining chair and took another long sip. “So, old man, how many times do you suppose we have sat in these very spots and contemplated the nature of the world?”

  “Hundreds, maybe more.”

  “And how many times have we vowed never to allow any chit to trap us into the unrelenting bonds of matrimony?”

  “I can't recall one.”

  “Very well.” Laurie rolled his gaze toward the ceiling. “How many times have I vowed never to be trapped into wedded bliss?”

  “You? Once again, hundreds at least. But it's not precisely a trap if one is heading into it willingly,” Max said mildly.

  “Call it what you will, a trap is still a trap.” He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “Rhetoric aside, Max, if a wife is what you want, there are plenty of others to choose from. Miss Weatherly is an excellent example, although she's probably been ruined by her proximity to the Hellion.”

  Max laughed. “She was something of a surprise, wasn't she?”

  “Indeed she was.” An unexpectedly pleasant surprise. She'd appeared so quiet and proper at first until the moment she'd exploded in defense of the Hellion. He was hard pressed not to admire the way she'd stood her ground on behalf of her friend. He smiled to himself every time the memory surfaced and it did so with surprising frequency. Her eyes--green, if he remembered right--had flashed with indignant fire. A charming blush had spread up her lovely neck and the interesting way her lips pursed when she called him a prig…now, there was a woman who could warm a man's bed for a lifetime.

  For a lifetime?

  The thought jolted him back to his senses. Obviously all this talk of marriage had played havoc with his mind.

  Max watched him with a raised brow, as if he knew the turn Laurie's thoughts had taken.

  “However, Miss Weatherly is not the issue,” Laurie said firmly.

  “Not for me.”

  Laurie ignored the implication in Max's comment. “No, you're determined to wed the most willful, opinionated female ever to walk the face of the earth.” He slumped back in the chair. “You are beyond hope. Next, you'll be declaring your undying love.”

  Max silently swirled the brandy in his glass, studying it as if he'd never seen such a fascinating sight. A moment passed. Then another.

  “Max?” Laurie'
s voice rose. “You're not in love, are you?”

  “I'm not certain I would recognize love if I saw it. Let me ask you something.” Max's gaze met his. “Why are you so set against my marrying Pandora?”

  Laurie blew out a long breath. He knew it would come to this. He should have confided in Max years ago.

  He and Max had shared confidences since their friendship began in boyhood. They'd attended school together. Played pranks, discovered girls, and grew up side by side. They were as close as brothers--indeed, closer than many. Each trusted the other with his dreams and desires, hopes and fears.

  They'd gone their separate ways briefly when Max had stubbornly insisted on purchasing a commission in the army. He rarely spoke of his military days, and from what little he had said, Laurie suspected that the grim reality of war could not be shared with anyone who had not experienced it firsthand.

  A scant year after his return, Max had retreated to his family's country estate and refused to come to town even for the season. In hindsight, Laurie recognized that he'd been too concerned with his own petty problems at the time to worry about his friend's state of mind. His vague recollections of his occasional visits during that odd period were shrouded in the mists of drink-induced oblivion. He had failed Max then. He would not fail him now.

  And now was probably not the most opportune time for the complete truth.

  “Even a casual observer will agree she has broken any number of hearts through the years. I would hate to see yours lying bruised and battered in the street. There's nothing more to it than that.” Laurie shrugged. “Besides, I am simply not up to the strain of helping you recover. You'd no doubt wish to spend every evening pursuing loose women, frequenting places like the Lion and Serpent, downing whiskey and gin and God knows what else, all in an effort to erase the painful memories.”

  Laurie drew a healthy swallow, then studied his friend over the rim of his glass. “On further consideration, it would be a sacrifice, but I would be more than willing to help you mend your broken heart.”

  Max laughed. “I knew I could depend upon you.”

  “Always.” Laurie lifted his glass and nodded. The vow echoed in the room. Abruptly the lighthearted mood between them vanished.

  “I want you to stop undermining my efforts,” Max said, his voice level and cool, his manner resolute.

  “I would if I could, my friend, but,” Laurie drew a deep breath and braced himself for the worst, “I can't.”

  For a long moment silence hung between them, heavy and fraught with unspoken challenge. Max's gaze caught his own, unwavering and determined.

  “We have always made a formidable team together.”

  “Indeed we have.”

  “It has been some time since you and I were on opposite sides of a contest.”

  “Indeed it has.”

  “Still…” A slow grin spread across Max's face. “I have always rather enjoyed matching wits with you.”

  Laurie mirrored Max's grin with his own. “As have I.”

  “If memory serves, the last time the dispute also centered around a woman. And I believe I was victorious.”

  “And the time before, I was the victor. And the time before that as well.”

  “Odd.” Max shook his head. “I don't recall it that way.”

  “That is odd.” Laurie pulled his brows together in feigned concern. “I remember it distinctly.”

  “Regardless, if you insist on carrying out your promise to frustrate my efforts, thereby helping Pandora--”

  “I am not helping her. I am helping you.”

  “That too is debatable, but as I was saying,” Max paused, obviously considering his words, “you are in essence becoming a minor player in our game. And as with any game, there are rewards for the winner and penalties for the loser. Do you agree?”

  “I suppose.” Laurie's voice was cautious.

  “Therefore I propose a side wager. Up the stakes, as it were.”

  “Up the stakes?” Laurie raised a disbelieving brow. “They can scarce get any higher. You are already risking marriage with the Hellion if you win, and only the name of the bride changes if you lose.”

  Max sipped his drink and shook his head. “I seriously doubt Pandora would actually name a wife for me. The more I see of her, the more I think all she really wants is my defeat. I suspect she would be more gracious in victory than I planned to be. Besides, I am hard pressed to believe any suitable woman, and Pandora did agree to choose someone suitable--”

  “I don't trust her.” Laurie's voice was grim.

  “I do. At any rate, no suitable woman would be willing to wed a man she did not know because of a bargain she had no part in. The stakes, should I lose, are really rather paltry.”

  A wager between the two of them would indeed make the entire endeavor a bit more interesting. “What did you have in mind?”

  Max set his glass on the table beside him, leaned forward, and steepled his fingers, looking every bit like a card sharp with a trump in his hand. “There are aspects to these tests that are proving rather costly. I have already commissioned a jeweler to create a necklace strung with golden apples for the final point. However, it costs a small fortune. It would give me a great deal of pleasure to see you foot the bill.”

  “Very well.”

  “Excellent. And while I do not plan to lose, should I lose, what would you suggest as your prize?”

  Laurie thought for a moment. At once the answer struck him. “Do you recall my plan for your escape?”

  “I can scarcely forget it.”

  “I was quite looking forward to it. Should you lose, I propose we take the journey I had originally proposed. A long trip to somewhere amusing. And of course, women to help ease you through your defeat.”

  “You are nothing if not thoughtful,” Max murmured.

  “And you will pay all expenses.”

  “I would not have it any other way.” Max raised his glass. “Are we agreed, then?”

  Laurie lifted his snifter. “We are.” He clinked Max's glass with his own.

  “I give you fair warning, my friend.” A smile remained on Max's face, but determination gleamed in his eye. Abruptly Laurie realized Max was not merely playing an amusing game or agreeing to an entertaining wager. “I do not intend to lose.”

  “Ah, but your loss is the only way to save your life.”

  Max laughed and downed the last of his brandy. Laurie followed suit and tried to ignore the conflicting thoughts tumbling through his head.

  If indeed Max had already fallen in love with the Hellion, losing this contest of theirs would in truth break his heart. Could Laurie really play a role in that?

  Yes. He pushed his doubts aside. Rescuing Max from a disastrous future was the one sure way to repay him for a lifetime of friendship. It would not be easy. Still, he wondered if he didn't have an ally in the Effington family itself. Why else would he be invited to the house party of the family matriarch, the Dowager Duchess of Roxborough?

  Even so, Laurie might be able to save Max from himself, but could even the most dedicated friend deliver him from the power of love?

  Chapter 12

  A New Field of Play

  By the gods, she was restless.

  Even the feel of the horse beneath her and the exhilaration of flying across the countryside with complete abandon didn't ease the turmoil that gnawed at her. She couldn't sleep and couldn't keep still.

  Pandora slowed the horse to a canter, then to a walk. No need to push the poor creature because she was out of sorts. And even here, in the far reaches of her family's ancestral estate, peace eluded her.

  Max was to blame for it. All of it. Lingering unwanted in her mind like a persistent melody. Of course, she had to admit he was also indirectly responsible for the taste of excitement she sought to find now on horseback. When they'd parted, she hadn't thought to return the boy's clothing he'd provided for her. Impulsively she'd stuffed them into her baggage and brought them to the country. This mor
ning, it was barely dawn when she'd dressed quietly, taking care not to wake Cynthia asleep in the next bed, and slipped out of Effington Hall and down to the stables. She managed to avoid all but two of the stable boys, who paid her no heed, as if they were used to such goings-on when the entire Effington brood was in residence.

  She spotted the small lake ahead, dotted with geese, and directed the horse toward the copse of trees hugging the southern bank and the treasure hidden there.

  It was at once odd and wonderful to be sitting astride. She hadn't done anything like this since she'd traded in the schoolroom for the ballroom. She'd nearly forgotten the glorious sensation of freedom riding in this manner provided.

  She reached the pathway that skirted the lake and the horse turned in the right direction, as if he sensed where she wished to go. No doubt other members of the family occasionally sought the same sanctuary she did.

  She had no idea exactly which Effington relations were in attendance this year. She and her parents, accompanied by Cynthia, had arrived late last night and gone directly to bed.

  At any other time, she would have been eager to greet cousins, aunts, uncles, and the assortment of various friends invited for the festivities. In spite of her complaints about the timing of her grandmother's annual party, she always loved coming to the country.

  The huge, rambling hall had seemed like a castle when she was a child and the well manicured park a magical setting. Even as she grew up, the magic endured, never failing to give her a sense of serenity and connection. This was the ancestral home of her family and regardless of where she lived, it was here her heart belonged.

  Pandora pulled the horse to a stop at the tree line and slipped from the saddle into ankle high grass still wet with dew. The pretty chestnut animal nuzzled the growth around the trunk of the oak that had sheltered horses and children and whoever else ventured here for as long as she could remember. She debated whether or not to tie the reins to keep the beast from straying, then decided he had no interest in anything save the tender green shoots he nibbled on. Besides, Effington horses were always well behaved and she would not be far.