Gwen’s jaw clenched.
“Gratitude may not get you to the altar,” Frances warned.
“I realize that!” Katherine’s voice faded in and out as she apparently paced the room. “While Henry is not the most exciting man in the world, he has unquestioned honor. A man of his word, that sort of thing. He would never renege on his promise to marry me.”
Gwen resisted the urge to scoff aloud.
“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Miss Quince said in a placating tone.
“You are not listening to me,” Katherine said impatiently. “Something has changed. And I do worry. I worry when the look in his eye is not one of adoration but speculation. When he no longer seems eager to spend time with me. When he stops asking if I would like to go for a stroll to see the gardens or the fountains or whatever else there is to see here.”
“I thought you told him you are not fond of the out-of-doors?”
“That’s beside the point. He’s not particularly keen to be indoors with me, either. Not anymore.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know.” Katherine blew an annoyed breath. “I don’t wish to wager my future on a man’s sense of honor. Even Henry’s. What if he decides breaking his word is less objectionable than marriage to me?”
“That’s a possibility, I suppose.” Worry sounded in Miss Quince’s voice.
“I have passed my twenty-fourth birthday. Henry is my last chance at an excellent match. The last possibility for a title and fortune and everything I—we’ve—always wanted. We have to do something.”
“One would think there would be some way to guarantee he keeps his word and marries you.”
“Yes, well, unfortunately, nothing comes to mind. If his word alone is not enough to ensure our marriage, I can’t imagine what else might make a man enter into a marriage he didn’t want.”
“What else...” Miss Quince sucked in a short breath and her tone brightened. “Henry wouldn’t have a choice if—” triumph sounded in her voice “—he ruined you.”
Silence fell in the room and Gwen strained to hear. Surely even Katherine wouldn’t consent to such a thing?
“Ruined me?” Katherine said thoughtfully. “You mean actual indiscretion or simply the appearance of improper behavior?”
“Given all there is to gain, it seems a small enough sacrifice.”
Gwen stifled an indignant gasp.
“That does seem to be the only answer.” Katherine sighed. “Then I shall have to join Henry in his bed tonight. Or perhaps I should already be there when he...”
Gwen carefully stepped away from the door. It wouldn’t do for Katherine or Miss Quince to know they had been overheard. Forewarned was forearmed, after all.
Any reservations she might have had about stopping Katherine’s wedding had vanished with the younger woman’s words. Determination swept through Gwen. No man deserved to be tricked into marriage. This wedding would absolutely not take place. Henry’s future, as well as Celia’s, was at stake.
A scant half an hour later, she and her friends were gathered in the small sitting room off her new bedroom.
“My mother always said listening in on a private conversation is ill-mannered.” Poppy crossed her arms in a show of moral indignation. It really didn’t suit her. “I am shocked by your behavior, Gwen. Simply shocked.”
“That’s what you find shocking about all this?” Effie scoffed. “Gwen’s behavior?”
“I expected better of her, that’s all.” Poppy paused. “Of course, the rest of it is shocking, as well.”
“And Poppy is right when one deliberately sets out to eavesdrop. That would be most improper,” Gwen said quickly. “However, in this particular instance, it was completely accidental on my part and therefore can be forgiven. I simply went to Miss Quince’s room after breakfast to discuss the arrangements for this week’s festivities. I had no idea she and Katherine would be in the midst of plotting to make certain Henry has no possible way to avoid this marriage.”
“And you actually heard them say if Katherine could find a way into Henry’s bed, he’d be trapped?” Effie asked.
“I heard it all.” Gwen shook her head. “And I do believe this casts things in an entirely different light.”
“Without question.” Poppy frowned. “Why, when you first said we needed to stop the wedding because Henry and Katherine aren’t in love and that Henry is actually in love with Celia, I felt my conscience twinge just the tiniest bit. Although I will always be on the side of love.”
“As will we all.” Gwen nodded. Poppy was a genuine romantic and even Effie—who did tend to be considerably less starry-eyed than Poppy—was a staunch believer in true love.
“But now that we know how truly despicable the bride is...” Poppy squared her shoulders. “Why, it seems to me we have no choice but to rescue poor Henry.”
“So, just to make certain I fully understand, our mission, if you will, is to—” Effie counted the points off on her fingers “—plan and coordinate the various events leading up to this wedding—now a mere six days away—”
“Goodness, Effie, while Miss Quince is somewhat overwhelmed, she did provide us with a framework of sorts.” Gwen adopted her most confident smile. “The invitations have gone out.”
“That’s something, I suppose.” Effie cast her a skeptical look. “Then aside from the invitations, we have the wedding and accompanying events to organize all while keeping the bride out of the groom’s bed—”
“Not just his bed.” Gwen narrowed her eyes. “There are all sorts of places in a house like this for an assignation.”
“There is that,” Poppy said under her breath, obviously reflecting on her own memories of amorous encounters.
“Very well, then,” Effie continued, “keeping the bride and the groom apart—”
Gwen nodded.
“—as well as devising a plan to stop the wedding altogether.” Effie studied her friend. “Is that all?”
“Isn’t it enough?” Gwen grinned.
“Oh, this does sound like fun.” Poppy’s eyes sparkled.
“Do you have a plan?” Effie asked. “For any of this?”
“Well, as you can see, I now occupy a different bedroom. I spoke to the butler and he has arranged different rooms for you both, as well. Your things are being moved even as we speak.” Gwen smirked. “Henry’s room is across the hall from this one, Effie’s room will be on one side of Henry’s and Poppy’s on the other.”
“We are surrounding the poor man,” Effie murmured.
“For his own good,” Gwen pointed out. “The greatest potential for scandalous behavior is under cover of night. Therefore, we shall have to make certain he stays in his room and does not have any unexpected guests.”
“What do you suggest we do?” Effie’s brow arched. “Stand guard outside his room?”
“Excellent idea.” Gwen beamed. “I was thinking the very same thing myself. We will take turns and watch his room all night.”
“Although I think it would be best if we sat rather than stood,” Poppy said thoughtfully.
Effie’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Whether we sit or stand, how are we going to explain ourselves?”
Gwen dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. “Oh, we’ll think of something. Daytime is a different problem entirely, although Henry does not strike me as the type of man who could be easily seduced during the daylight hours.”
“Pity,” Poppy murmured.
“Even so, Katherine is a powerful temptation,” Effie said. “And she did manage to get him to propose.”
“No man is truly safe when it comes to a beautiful woman.” Gwen thought for a moment. “However, Katherine is the bride and therefore should be the center of attention this week. The center of our at
tention. As we are now the ones putting all the arrangements together, it makes perfect sense that one of us will be with her every minute.”
Effie stared. “Sometimes I find you positively frightening, Guinevere Blodgett.”
“Thank you.” Gwen tried and failed to keep a grin off her face.
“Still...” Poppy’s forehead furrowed. “That’s only half of it. While we do seem to have an acceptable plan to keep Katherine from ensuring that Henry has to marry her, we still have no way to stop the wedding from happening at all.”
“It’s obvious that Henry Saunders is not the type of man to go back on his word. He has said he would marry her and marry her he will.” Effie shook her head. “In spite of Katherine’s fears—as much as he might want to—I suspect he’ll never break it off with her.”
Gwen sighed. “No, I’m afraid not.”
“It has always struck me as much more civilized and, well, proper when the bride is the one to call off a wedding. One does tend to think a bride has legitimate reasons, whereas when a groom begs off, it’s attributed to cowardice. Or something of a sordid nature. It’s a pity we can’t get her to break it off with him,” Poppy said with a sigh.
Gwen and Effie traded glances.
Effie grinned. “That’s rather brilliant, Poppy.”
“It is?” Poppy’s eyes widened.
“Oh, it is indeed. Henry may be too honorable to beg off from this wedding, but Katherine has no such scruples. She’ll abandon him in a moment under the right conditions.” Gwen smiled slowly. “And I know exactly what those conditions will be.”
CHAPTER FIVE
HENRY SAUNDERS HAD never considered himself irrational, weak or stupid. Apparently he was wrong.
The moment he spotted Celia descending the terrace steps into the gardens, he should have turned around, walked back into the house and as far away as possible. Instead, he found himself hurrying after her, ignoring the voice in his head that fairly screamed he shouldn’t follow her. That insisted this was a dreadful mistake. That no good could come of being alone with Celia Bromley. He’d heeded that voice for the three weeks since her arrival at his family’s country home—three endless, torturous weeks of indecision and doubt and longing. Now he ignored it. A man could only take so much.
He crossed the terrace and started down the stairs. Perhaps if they spent a few minutes together he could get her out of his head. That she was here at Danby in the first place was absurd, really, when one thought about it. They’d shared no more than a chance encounter at a bookstore. Nothing more than a moment in which two people reached for the same volume and their hands brushed, followed by a bit of amusing conversation. Admittedly, that conversation had lasted much of the afternoon, but it was a casual flirtation, nothing more significant than that. Or at least it shouldn’t have been. But in that second when his hand had touched hers, her gaze had met his, there had been an instant of perfect clarity, of shocking awareness. It was absurd of course. Henry didn’t believe in such foolish romantic nonsense.
And yet his blood raced in her presence. His heart thudded hard in his chest when her gaze met his. And something inside of him ached with an odd emptiness when he thought of what he had missed. Perhaps if he could just talk to her alone, he might break the spell he’d been under since they first met.
Or he’d be doomed forever. Still, it was a chance worth taking. It was damned difficult to remember he was expected to marry one sister with another constantly in his thoughts.
He reached the bottom of the stairs and considered his choices. Celia was nowhere to be seen. In front of him, centered between the two curved stairways that flanked the terrace and led into the garden, was a large circular pool. Frolicking water nymphs and dolphins carved of stone spouted water in the middle. The fountain and pool had been designed by an ancestor a hundred or so years ago, and while Henry was not at all drawn to whimsy, he had loved this spot in the garden all of his life. It was nothing short of magical.
The pool was bounded by a semicircular beech hedge with arched openings leading into the gardens beyond. The one farthest from the house led to the tennis courts and he was fairly certain she would not have gone in that direction. The rose garden and formal plantings, designed at the beginning of the century to reflect a continental style, could be reached through the archway on the right. The arch on the left was the entry to a world of extravagant topiaries, fanciful silhouettes, unexpected figures and fantastic forms all carved and shaped out of living trees. This was the oldest garden on the grounds, originally planted nearly two hundred years ago. He and Ned had played here as boys and, regardless of how fashion and taste might change with the years, they had promised the topiary garden would always be a part of Danby Manor.
He had no idea which archway Celia had selected but perhaps her choice might be taken as a sign. If she chose the formal gardens, then obviously they were not meant to be and he could renew his efforts to vanquish her from his thoughts. If she picked the topiaries, well, he’d cross that road if and when he came to it.
He strode toward the left-hand arch, stepped under the wide shaped branches and into the topiary garden. As he had since childhood, he paused and for a moment was a Lilliputian staring up at giant Gullivers.
“Are you following me?” an amused voice off to one side asked. His heart leaped.
“No, of course not.” He kept his gaze on the carved giants in front of him. He didn’t need to turn to know Celia was sitting on one of the stone benches that flanked either side of the archway.
“Really? I could have sworn you were.” A teasing note sounded in her voice.
“And if I admitted I was?” His tone matched hers but there was an undercurrent of truth he couldn’t quite hide.
“Oh.” She paused. “I see.”
Something inside him snapped and he turned toward her. “Do you?”
Her eyes widened and she rose to her feet. “No, not really. Not at all.”
He stepped toward her. “Celia—”
“No.” She held out her hand to stop him. “Don’t come any closer. Please.”
The look in her eyes clutched at his heart. “Are you afraid of me?”
Her brows drew together. “Why on earth would I be afraid of you?”
“I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just thought...the way you looked at me... It seemed... I don’t know.”
She stared at him for a moment then laughed. “Good Lord, Henry, I would never be afraid of you.”
“Good.” He nodded. This woman made no sense whatsoever. It was...delightful. “Although you did look rather afraid.”
“Well, I am.”
He frowned. “You’re very confusing.”
“Do you think so?” She considered his words. “Most people don’t think I’m the least bit confusing. I rather like that you think I am.” Her blue eyes twinkled with amusement.
“I’m glad you’re happy,” he said wryly.
“Oh, I’m not at all happy. I’m really quite distraught. And I am afraid, but not of you.” She drew a deep breath. “Of us.”
His blood pounded in his ears. “Us?”
“It’s no doubt quite impertinent of me and most presumptuous. Why, you might not feel at all the same, but—”
“I do.”
She stared. “You do what?”
“Feel the same.”
“Do you?”
He nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“Oh dear.” She twisted her hands together. “That is awkward. Delightful,” she added then grimaced. “But awkward.”
“Because I am to marry your sister?”
“Of course. I can’t think of any other reason why it would be awkward. Unless you were supposed to marry someone other than my sister, then I suppose that would be awkward, as w
ell.”
He grinned in spite of himself. “Yes, well, I imagine that would be.”
“You’re not, though, are you?” Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t have another fiancée, do you? In addition to Katherine, I mean.”
“No, I don’t.” He laughed. “But you’re right. An additional fiancée would be awkward.” He sobered. “Tell me why you’re afraid of us.”
She studied him for a long moment, absently chewing on her lower lip. The most insane desire to taste that lip rushed though him. He ignored it.
“I barely know you, Henry, yet it doesn’t seem to matter.” Her gaze wandered past him, as if she was working something out in her own mind. Looking for an answer that was not easily seen. “Since the moment I met you at the bookseller’s, I have thought of you constantly. I even went back several times in hopes of seeing you.”
He resisted the urge to grin with satisfaction.
Her gaze shifted back to his. “You can imagine my shock when I met you again only to discover you were the man my sister intended to marry.”
“I can indeed. Believe me, you were not alone in your surprise.”
“There is nothing that can be done about it.” She shook her head. “You are an honorable man. I am certain of it. I know we’ve barely spoken but I admit I have observed you during my stay here.”
“Yet we’ve not had so much as a moment alone together.”
“I am well aware of that.” She raised her chin. “Quite honestly I have been avoiding you. And I suspect you’ve been avoiding me, as well.”
He shrugged. “It seemed best.”
“And yet now, here—” she waved absently at their surroundings “—you sought me out.”
“I couldn’t bear it anymore, Celia.” His gaze caught hers directly. “To have you so close and yet...”
“So far away?”
“And out of reach.” He blew a frustrated breath. “I don’t know what to do. I have never had feelings like this and yet the circumstances...” He shook his head. “I thought perhaps if we talked, then whatever this is between would be laid to rest.”
The Lady Travelers Guide to Scoundrels and Other Gentlemen Page 38
