The Arrangement

by Sylvia Day

  “Thank you.” She blushed, her thoughts immediately going back to the events of the evening after her reading of the book. Turning her attention back to Lord Walker, she gave her excuses, then added, “It was a pleasure to meet you, my lord.”

  “It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Barrington.” He gave a meaningful glance to Brook, then sat back down.

  Brook gave her a quick smile before sitting back down as well, and as she quit the room she heard the men’s voices just before she closed the door.

  “I had my doubts.”

  “And now?” Brook asked.

  “Now I actually believe you.” Then, so quietly she almost didn’t hear it over the click of the door, “No courtesan you hired would dare dress in such a dress as that.”

  Diana paused just as the door closed.

  Courtesan?

  And what was wrong with her dress anyway?

  She glanced down and studied her day dress, the one that wasn’t patched here and there, and for the first time realized the faded nature of the fabric and the simple cut of the cloth. A maid walked by then, and Diana couldn’t help but compare her dress with the maid’s uniform.

  And the maid’s dress was honestly finer than her own.

  It was then that she made two choices:

  First, that she would inquire about the comment regarding the courtesan, though she was quite certain she wouldn’t like the answer.

  And second, that modiste appointment couldn’t happen fast enough.

  In fact, she was so preoccupied with the last statements of Lord Walker that she almost forgot about the book.

  Almost.

  As she retrieved the book from Brook’s rooms, she laughed at the irony of her predicament. She had sought out Brook’s book to distract herself, only finding that she needed distraction more than ever after finding him. And now, she feared, the book wouldn’t provide enough escape for her mind.

  Things were simpler in Sussex.

  And she had the feeling it was only going to get worse.

  CHAPTER 11

  Several days later, Brook still couldn’t wipe the grin from his face whenever he thought of Walker’s expression after meeting Diana. To be sure, the old man had suspected him, with good reason, of trying to trick him into believing the authenticity of their marriage. But after meeting Diana, the man was finally convinced, and what had done it wasn’t her appearance, wasn’t her ladylike manner; it was the fact that the blasted modiste hadn’t come yet and Diana was still wearing her rather worn and faded day dress. And he would have bet several thousand pounds that the poor dress was her best one as well. Lord Walker accepted the authenticity of the marriage based on Diana’s story and appearance, leaving the signed documents on Brook’s desk before he left.

  The sale had to be recorded, which would take place the day after the party Brook was planning to present his wife to the London Ton. It was amazing how long he had awaited this moment, and for so much to happen in such a short amount of time was overwhelming, in the best way.

  Diana had continued to impress him, and each time he thought of her coming into his study in search of that book, it made him smile.

  In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he smiled so much. He wasn’t sure if he liked or felt trepidation about such an emotion. The more pessimistic side of him was waiting for something to happen and steal all the joy away.

  A knock sounded on his study door. “Enter.” He glanced up from his musings and smiled a welcome to Diana.

  “Good evening.” He stood. “Is it time for dinner, then?”

  “Almost.” She gave a smile in return. Her day gown fit beautifully, tucking in and accenting all the right curves of her body, reminding him that the festivities of the night were only a few hours away. It was not hardship, bedding Diana. She had only become more engaging with each passing night, an equal partner who threatened to tempt him into caring more than just for the procreation of an heir.

  He tempered his thoughts. “How was your afternoon?”

  “Pleasant. I finished the book. Do you know if there’s any more in the series?”

  “Yes. And I shall get the entire set for you tomorrow.” He left his desk and walked over to her, offering his arm.

  “Thank you. And how was your afternoon?”

  “Busy. But at least I wasn’t planning the menu for the party tomorrow night.”

  “Ah, yes. That was my delegation.” She sighed. “Thankfully your cook is far more knowledgeable than I, and made the whole project easy. I simply nodded,” she replied with a laugh.

  “Ah, you nod very well.”

  “Thank you. I’m quite proud of my skills. I’ve learned how to seem very obedient when I’m really not,” she teased. “Ask my mother.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” He started to lead them to the hall.

  “Actually, I do have one question.” Diana’s voice stopped him short. She was tentative in her tone, very unlike what he’d come to know of her.

  “Yes?” He turned to her.

  “Lord Walker . . . as I was leaving he said something. . . .”

  Immediately Brook knew what she meant. “Yes?”

  “And I was wondering why he thought I would possibly be a courtesan, and if, perhaps, others would assume the same upon meeting me?”

  It wasn’t quite the question he was expecting. He had anticipated anger, frustration that there had been a courtesan—hell, many—before her. And probably would be more after they satisfied their contract. He was careful to formulate his reply. “Well, it turns out that Lord Walker has a piece of property I want very much, but he wished to keep it in a family. Meaning, he wasn’t willing to sell it to me if I remained a bachelor with no heir to inherit.”

  “I see. So you . . .” She paused, then squinted with amusement. “Hired a wife?”

  “In a way.”

  “And he found out.”

  “I hired a friend—”

  “A courtesan friend,” Diana replied archly.

  “Yes.”

  “And he didn’t approve? Shocking,” she teased.

  “He did not approve, or believe me.”

  She nodded. “Which leads to me.”

  “Which leads to you.” Brook nodded. “And I must say, I did pretty well for myself.” He hitched a shoulder. It was the truth, no need to steal her due credit.

  Diana frowned. “Thank you.”

  He touched her forehead. “You don’t look appreciative.”

  She shook her head. “I just didn’t expect your thanks.”

  “Then apparently I’ve been very poor at giving it. Turns out we both gained something from the marriage. I was able to purchase the property, and your family was able to keep theirs.” It was quite ironic actually, and thinking of it in such a way made it somewhat poetic as well.

  “How very astute . . .” Then she grinned. “Even if you did try to hire a wife. Honestly, did you think that would be so easily pretended? How long would you have had her live with you?”

  “I don’t often have Lord Walker at my house, so it seemed like an easy farce.”

  “You’re quite impressive at business, but in this, I must say you didn’t do your intelligence justice.”

  “I do believe I’m insulted,” he replied, arching a brow playfully.

  “Friends are honest. And that is the truth, my lord. If a friend can’t be honest with you, who can? Then you’re simply surrounded by people using you, lying to you, et cetera. Honesty isn’t a bad thing.”

  “When you put it that way.” He grinned. “Then thank you for your honesty.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m sure you’ll return the favor someday, but I must say I wish you would have said something sooner. . . .”

  “About?” He followed her as she started toward the hall.

  “My dress. I think the maids are wearing finer clothing than I.”

  He gave a laugh. “I’m sorry; I didn’t wish to offend.”

  “Instead you le
t me look like a poor cousin.”

  “A cousin you are not,” he accented. “However, I do believe the modiste has rectified the problem. Are you happy with your clothes?”

  “Yes, and the dress for tomorrow is lovely, though I think people will expect that perhaps I am a courtesan. It’s quite scandalous, but I admit that I do love it.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do it more than justice, and no one will think of you as a courtesan. The Times and The Courier have run articles announcing the marriage and an abundance of invites have poured in. People know, Diana, and are all dying with curiosity to meet the woman who has ended my reign as bachelor.”

  “It wasn’t hard,” she said. “You had to convince me more than I you.”

  “They will never believe you,” he joked, tapping her nose with his finger.

  “That’s because they don’t know you. But don’t worry; your secret is safe with me.”

  “Because we’re friends?” Brook asked, watching her green eyes flicker to his.

  “Yes. And friends keep secrets.”

  “Well then, I think it’s only fair that I have a secret to keep about you,” he traded.

  They had made their way to the table, and he pulled out the chair for her, seating her beside him.

  The footman poured a light white wine and served the first course of consommé broth. As he departed, Brook turned to her. “So, a secret.”

  Diana narrowed her eyes as if studying his worthiness for such a precious gift. “I suppose the question is, which one.”

  “So you have many secrets.”

  “A great many, but most won’t matter to you.” She took a sip of her soup.

  “Well, I think it’s only fair if you share a secret that does matter to me.”

  “Why?” she asked, setting the spoon down.

  This pulled him up short, and he glanced up, thinking. “Because it will prove I’m worthy of your friendship.”

  “And I can’t just offer the friendship; you must prove yourself?”

  Again, he paused, not quite certain how to proceed. “Yes?”

  “Wrong. Try again.” She picked up her spoon and dipped it in the soup.

  Brook watched her, curious if she knew how unconventional of a conversation they were having. Never, in all his experience with women, had he ever had a conversation such as this. Such as were most of the conversations he’d had with Diana—and they hadn’t been married a week yet!

  “Is the question that difficult for you?” she asked, blinking at him.

  He shook his head. “You should share a secret that matters to me, because I . . .” He paused. “You know what, I have no idea.”

  “When you can tell me, I’ll tell you. It’s only fair.”

  And as Brook watched his wife smile a grin of victory, he decided that sometimes losing wasn’t as terrible as he originally thought.

  But something tickled his mind, hinting that this wasn’t the first time he’d lose in a battle of wits against Diana.

  But that it was only the first of many.

  Which should have scared the hell out of him.

  Yet it didn’t.

  For the first time, the future looked better than he’d ever expected to see it.

  All because of her.

  Who’d have thought a wife could change so much?

  And not just a wife: her.

  CHAPTER 12

  The evening of the party arrived, and Diana struggled to keep her nerves in check. It would be the first ball she’d ever attended, if one didn’t count the few country-dances to which she’d been invited. All day the servants had prepared the rooms, the food, the ambiance, to a fever pitch of perfection. The heady scent of roses and English lavender floated up the stairs and penetrated her rooms with its intoxicating scent. She winced as her maid tugged a few strands of hair particularly tight, and she inhaled a deep, calming breath.

  I can do this.

  It helped to know that her marriage to Lord Barrington had been announced in the proper way. At least she didn’t have to wonder if people were looking at her askance, curious if she were another hired wife. No, she was a wife in truth, and in deed. She had no reason to do anything but hold her head high, but the trepidation of her introduction to the London Ton was daunting. She wasn’t expecting acceptance, but it would be nice not to be ostracized. However, she didn’t keep high hopes for anything; it was better to expect nothing and have something pleasantly surprise her.

  Like her marriage to Brook. Her expectations were very small, if any. And he’d surpassed each one, beyond what she dared hope. He was kind, attentive, but she didn’t read into his care to believe him sincerely attached to her. She did indeed hope that he viewed her as a friend, as an ally at least. She had offered her friendship, without expecting anything in return. She only wondered if he knew how to accept such a gift without strings attached. It was a pity.

  “All set, my lady,” the maid whispered reverently, and Diana hesitated to glance into the mirror. She’d been watching the progress of her hair but had been lost in her thoughts and missed the final touches.

  A smile teased her lips, and she took in all the details of her appearance. Her chestnut brown hair was twisted, curled, and woven with small pearl strands, the contrast between light and dark stunning. Her green eyes were accented by the smallest hint of a blush in her cheeks, and the gown.

  Good Lord.

  She’d been speaking the truth to Brook when she’d said it made her feel like a courtesan. The shoulders were barely covered by the smallest whisper of emerald fabric, and the décolleté dipped lower than any other she’d ever worn before. The lower neckline hinted at the swell of her breasts, barely covered by the minimal corset, as was the newest fashion, or so she was told by the modiste. It would be considered scandalous in Sussex, but Diana had the suspicion that it was simply common in London.

  She had a lot to learn, she knew. And fashion was the first lesson.

  The fabric gathered just under her breasts, tucking in and then fanning out in a graceful flow to her feet, covered by the most exquisite emerald slippers with silver threading. Never having worn anything nearly as fine, she was transfixed at the transformation of a dress and expertly styled hair.

  “My lady? My lord wished to give this to you.” The maid’s words broke through Diana’s examinations.

  “Yes?” She turned to see the maid extend a simple white box. When Diana opened it, there lay a beautiful set of pearls, larger than the ones woven through her hair, but similar in color. There were also matching earrings to complete the set.

  “Oh my,” Diana whispered.

  “Allow me.” The maid took the box and withdrew the necklace, carefully draping it around Diana’s neck. It completed the dress in a way that made her realize something was missing before, something crucial.

  The earrings were like a delicate frosting on a cake, not necessary but delightful and decadent.

  “You’re very lovely, my lady.”

  Diana turned to the maid. “Thank you, so very much.”

  After bobbing a quick curtsey, the maid took her leave, and Diana was alone with her thoughts.

  Glancing to the clock, she noted that there was only a quarter of an hour before Brook would escort her to the ballroom. She took the opportunity to go to the window facing the front of the house. When she drew the curtain back, she noted the long line of carriages, all awaiting entrance to the courtyard. Several footmen helped ladies and gentlemen from their carriages, then moved along to the next one.

  Was there anyone who hadn’t accepted her and Brook’s invitation? She doubted it. Of course, Brook had said the curiosity of the ton would draw them all in.

  Curiosity about her.

  The anxiety returned, and she forced several deep breaths from her nose just when there was a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” she called, forcing a calm.

  Brook opened the door, then froze as he stepped over the threshold. His eyes crinkled with a smile
that soon was followed by his lips.

  She waited for his approval, for him to say something, anything.

  And in those stretches of silence, she realized just how important it was to her, to have his approval.

  That was dangerous ground.

  But certainly, as a friend, she could care about his opinion? But her heart whispered that it was something deeper. She silenced the inner voice.

  “Diana.” He whispered her name, then closed the door. “You’re exactly as your name means, a goddess if I ever saw one.”

  A blush flowed through her, starting at her fingertips and ending up in her cheeks. It pleased her more than she was willing to admit. “Thank you.”

  “And your dress is lovely, nothing too scandalous. But I must say, if it weren’t a little scandalous—only a little—people might question the marriage.”

  “Ah, your infamous reputation.” She understood his implication.

  “Only for finding the most beautiful women in England.” He gave a slight bow. “And you, on that front, are certainly validating that rumor.”

  “Flattery.” She gave a small wave of her hand, trying to lighten the mood with teasing.

  “It will get you anywhere,” he replied, offering his arm.

  Diana took a deep breath and closed the distance. She rested her hand on his arm, drawing strength from him.

  “I don’t understand.” Brook turned a confused expression toward her.

  She met his gaze.

  “You never once trembled when you were marrying me, a stranger, yet you’re shaking like a leaf now. Where is my brave wife? The one who isn’t afraid to be honest, the one who—”

  “I’m here. I’m just . . . a little more reluctant to take on the ton. You . . . were less threatening.”

  “That, my dear, is a valid statement. I am far less frightening than the ton, but I will not leave your side. You’re safe with me. On that you can depend.” And his clear blue gaze conveyed the truth of his words.

  Her heart calmed at his pledge, and with a pinch more courage than she’d had a few moments ago, she followed him down the hall and into the foyer.

  The hum of voices floated up to them as they descended the stairs. Soon the hum of voices became a sea of silence as every eye turned to them. Diana could feel their scrutiny on her person, their eyes calculating, speculating, judging her worthiness or lack thereof.