The Arrangement

by Sylvia Day

  It was single-handedly the most on-display moment of her existence, and she fervently hoped it was the last as well.

  “You’re taking their breath away,” Brook whispered so quietly she almost missed the sweet words.

  She glanced down to hide the fullness of her smile, and then when she was once more in command of herself, she met the collective gaze of the ton with more confidence than she thought was possible.

  The fifteen seconds it took to descend the stairs felt like fifteen minutes, but soon she and Brook were on the ballroom floor and the hum of voices started up once more.

  There was a flurry of introductions, a hundred names she’d never remember, and more than her share of sidelong glances from other women, but soon the music started, and Brook took her arm, leading her to the dance floor.

  “It’s only proper that we start out the evening. It is our party, after all,” he murmured, then proceeded to dance to the cotillion. She exchanged partners, and was starting to enjoy herself. The music was lovely, the lights twinkled, and if she pretended hard enough, she could imagine that everyone was looking at someone else rather than her.

  After the dance finished, Brook escorted her to the edge of the dance floor. “Would you care for a glass of wine? Some lemonade?”

  “Yes, please. Lemonade,” she replied, immediately desperate for the refreshment.

  “I’ll be only a moment.” He lifted her wrist and kissed it, then disappeared into the crowd.

  “Ah, Lady Barrington.” A slightly familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. Turning, she met the gaze of Lord Walker and another gentleman with whom she wasn’t acquainted.

  “My lord.” She curtseyed.

  “Allow me to introduce my cousin’s son, Sir Harrington.”

  “A pleasure.” Diana offered her hand to the considerably younger gentleman. She guessed he was close to Brook in age, and stature.

  Sir Harrington took her hand, kissing it politely. “You’re even more lovely than Lord Walker mentioned.”

  She blushed at the compliment, but it wasn’t one of pleasure, rather of anxiety. “Are you enjoying your evening?” she asked, like a good hostess.

  “Even more now,” Lord Harrington replied charmingly.

  Lord Walker chuckled. “You’re quite polished from when I saw you last, Lady Barrington.” His eyes took on a narrowed glint.

  “I’m sure,” Diana replied, tightly. “But I’m sure you’re far too much of a gentleman to imply that a woman is only as worthy as her clothing.” It was as near an insult as she’d ever dare give a peer of the realm, but something felt off.

  “Of course, he would never imply anything such as that,” Sir Harrington replied.

  “Anything as what?” Brook’s voice was a welcome interruption into the conversation, and Diana took the opportunity to step back and allow her husband into the circle of discussion.

  Why did she suddenly feel like a lamb amongst wolves? At least she wasn’t alone; Brook would traverse the tricky ground for her, with her.

  She wasn’t left alone to defend herself, thank God.

  And he wouldn’t leave her.

  He promised.

  CHAPTER 13

  Brook tried to loosen the clench of his jaw. The moment he’d turned from the refreshment table, Diana had been surrounded in more ways than she’d readily recognized. Every eye was on her, calculating. And when Lord Walker had approached her, the old man had some sort of purpose in mind, Brook would bet his last pound on it. But it was the other gentleman with Lord Walker who caused Brook’s fists to clench. He monitored his grip on the glass of lemonade as he tried to quickly dart through the crowd back to Diana. She was speaking to the gentlemen, and as she addressed Lord Walker the other gentleman’s gaze roved over her suggestively, lingering on the dip of her neckline. Judging by his expression, he was appreciating the view far more than was appropriate.

  Brook’s blood had boiled, and a deep well of jealousy overflowed within him. He had stamped down his rather savage instincts and forced the charm for which he was renowned as he approached the small group.

  Diana’s posture had been stiff, and he was immediately curious what they had said to create such a reaction. Just as he approached, the other gentleman mentioned something, and so Brook asked the question that would require the whole conversation to be repeated.

  At the sound of his voice, he noted the way Diana relaxed slightly. It was out of the corner of his eye, but it was obvious— to him. How had he come to know her so well, in such a short time? It was disconcerting, delightful, and utterly distracting. He had to focus on the situation at hand, so he pushed the observation aside and directed all his attention to the gentlemen before him.

  Lord Walker answered Brook’s inquiry. “I was merely stating that your wife was quite . . . polished.”

  “I see. Actually, I’m sure everyone can see what a beauty she is. It’s a rather unremarkable statement since it’s overly apparent.” Brook deliberately misunderstood the implication, opting not to insult the man directly. There were still some finalizations that needed to happen, and the last thing he needed was Lord Walker changing his mind, or making the process more difficult.

  Lord Walker cleared his throat. “Allow me to introduce my cousin’s son, Sir Harrington.” He gestured to the other gentleman. Brook bowed, and then turned to Diana. “Your lemonade,” he whispered, and intentionally brushed her hand as he handed the glass over.

  An intimate smile teased her lips, and he was mesmerized.

  “A pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard much about you from Lord Walker.” Sir Harrington’s voice interrupted Brook’s appreciation of Diana’s expression.

  At this, Brook wondered just how much Lord Walker had shared, and why. “Ah, yes.” He turned back to the man. “I’m happy you could come and celebrate with us tonight.”

  “Perhaps later we can discuss some details; there’s been a change to the plans,” Lord Walker said, his eyes taking on a shrewd glint.

  Brook’s chest tightened, but he feigned disinterest. “Change to what?”

  “This is not the time or place.” Lord Walker shrugged off the question.

  “Yet you felt it necessary to bring it up,” Brook replied coolly.

  “I thought you should know, that is all.”

  Brook nodded. “A small detail change isn’t worrisome; let us discuss it tomorrow, and enjoy ourselves tonight.”

  Lord Walker cast a meaningful glance to Sir Harrington. “The detail isn’t as small as that.”

  Everything that Brook had worked for seemed to be unstable, shaking, and he wasn’t sure how to navigate it. Lord Walker had agreed to the sale of the estate. The documents were drawn, the signatures given; all that was left was waiting for finalization. What could he possibly change at this point? Brook calmed himself with that knowledge.

  He couldn’t wait, though; he had to know. Certainly it was worth fifteen minutes of time to see this to an end? “Why don’t we take a small break for brandy in my office, then?” Brook offered.

  Lord Walker and Sir Harrington nodded, then followed him as he departed from the party.

  His thoughts pounded through his head like his heels on the polished floor as they all adjourned into his study. He poured three snifters of brandy, and lifted a glass. Let the deception be brought out into the light, or let it be put to rest, he thought. “Cheers.”

  Both gentlemen took sips, and then sat when Brook gestured to the chairs. “What needs to be discussed? I was under the impression that all details were already worked out.”

  Lord Walker glanced to Sir Harrington, then leaned forward. “I have another buyer, who is willing to keep it in my family.”

  “And your honor and word mean nothing? Lord Walker, I have the documents, your signature; it’s all but finished. If Sir Harrington wishes to purchase the estate, he might do so . . . but through me, if I wished to sell it. But I do not.”

  “There was a misunderstanding, and I’m trying to
not interrupt your current plans, simply adjust them,” Sir Harrington replied, then paused, leaning forward.

  “What misunderstanding?” Brook asked, unclenching his jaw.

  “I want the estate. I was under the impression it was already sold—”

  “It is,” Brook interrupted.

  “Not yet,” Lord Walker replied coolly. “I might not be able to completely halt the sale, since you have all the signed documents, but I’m sure I can keep it tied up in litigation for some time. . . .” he threatened.

  “What do you want?” Brook asked, not even attempting to keep his teeth from clenching at the words.

  “I want to purchase a percentage of the estate, and the right to pass it along to my family if you do not procure an heir.”

  “You do realize I’m going to have a family of my own,” Brook stated, curious as to what plans were forming behind the scenes in the minds of Lord Walker and Sir Harrington.

  “Let’s not pretend, Lord Barrington. Your wife . . . You certainly made it seem authentic, but no one goes to the English countryside and comes back married to . . . someone like her.” Lord Walker folded his hands over his larger belly, as if resting his case.

  “You don’t believe in the authenticity of my marriage,” Brook stated.

  “Men like you don’t marry. You might have signed the paper, bedded the wench, but you’ll never have an heir worthy of my estate. Sir Harrington has two sons already,” he said as if all this were a mere formality to the end he’d already planned for.

  Brook bit back his anger. “So, not only are you insulting me, but my wife? Where is your honor, Lord Walker? You spout these ideas of family and heritage, but you are willing to discount any that don’t fit into your ideals. I’ll have you know that my wife”—he accented the word—“is very much a wife, and not a mistress, a courtesan, nothing as marginalized. She bears my name, my protection, and will bear my heirs. And if you wish to try and make these changes, then I trust you will have a large amount of time and lawyers dedicated to the venture, because you, my lord, will find my resolution unmovable,” Brook replied with an icy tone. “Excuse me, I have a party to attend, and you no longer have a reason to stay and enjoy it.” Brook stood, and motioned to the door.

  “So you’re resolved?”

  “Entirely. And I’d appreciate if you’d never insult my wife again. I’ll not be as kind the next time around.”

  Lord Walker met Sir Harrington’s gaze, and both men stood and exited.

  Brook waited till the door closed, then sunk in his chair, holding his hands over his face. “What a disaster,” he murmured.

  All the reasons he’d taken a wife in the beginning were for naught. He’d fight Lord Walker to maintain the sale of the estate, but it wasn’t going to be easy. It was supposed to be a seamless transition.

  A marriage of convenience.

  A sale of property.

  No distractions, no barriers to the final goal.

  Yet it seemed that he was utterly distracted by his wife—which was unplanned. And fighting for what was his ultimate goal, Lord Walker’s estate. What had seemed so clear, a plan so easily executed, was now in ruins and he was more entangled than he ever thought possible.

  It was then that he admitted to the truth that he’d been trying to ignore.

  He cared more for Diana than he’d ever planned.

  He wanted her more than he’d ever expected.

  And he was certain that she was not returning the attachment—especially because it was also at that moment that he realized he’d left her all alone.

  When he’d promised to not leave her side.

  Apparently it was a night of broken promises.

  CHAPTER 14

  Diana’s gaze kept straying to the door where Brook had left. He’d gone with the gentlemen without a backward glance, which hurt more than it should have. She knew her attachment to him was more than his to her, but that didn’t stop her heart from feeling the truth of it. The moment he left, the whispers around her started.

  At first, they were easy to ignore.

  She sipped her lemonade, put on a brave smile, tried to remember the words Brook had spoken over her earlier.

  Brave. She could be brave.

  She turned to her side, meaning to make conversation with someone, but she met the cool gaze of a woman about her age, stopping her efforts in her tracks. She sipped from her glass again, thankful for the distraction.

  But the lemonade only lasted so long, and the conversation was taking longer than she’d hoped. That could only mean that the “details” Lord Walker had mentioned were not merely details, but large changes.

  Meaning, the business deal that had enticed Brook to marry her in the first place was potentially falling apart.

  Was it all for naught now?

  If so, what would she do?

  What would he do?

  Would he regret marrying her? Would he uphold his agreement to provide assistance to her family? Was it all crumbling now?

  Her refreshment gone, she felt like an idiot holding her glass and waiting.

  “Pardon me,” a woman’s voice called from behind her, and she turned to a lady slightly older than her. Her gown was threaded with silver, making it shimmer in the light. “Allow me to introduce myself; I’m Lady Ardell.” The woman nodded gracefully.

  “A pleasure,“ Diana replied. “I’m Lady Barrington, but I’m sure you’re aware.” She offered a smile at her little joke.

  “Yes, it is your party after all,” the woman replied, a little bit of cheek to her tone. “And where is your husband, Lady Barrington? It would seem your party is missing someone quite important.” Lady Ardell spoke with a soft tone, but the expression in her eyes gave the words bite.

  “He had some unexpected business to take care of,” Diana replied coolly, but with a tone of respect; no need to make enemies already.

  Though she was certain that the moment she walked out with Lord Barrington, she made many.

  “I see,” Lady Ardell replied, then nodded and turned to take her leave, pausing beside several other ladies. There were whispers, looks, and calculating glances that conveyed that Lady Ardell was communicating her recent conversation—though Diana was sure they could have easily overheard it. The speculation that followed the communication was humiliating, and without a backward glance Diana made her way over to the refreshment table. She procured another glass of lemonade.

  She wasn’t going to let them win.

  No. She wasn’t sure where Brook was, or what was going on, but for the moment, she was the hostess. She would rise to the occasion. So, with her head held high, she walked over to a collection of ladies and introduced herself.

  And when she was finished with that conversation, she found another to be a part of.

  The time passed.

  And Diana almost forgot that she had been left behind.

  That her husband had done the very thing he’d promised not to do, abandoning her to the tender mercies—or lack of mercy or anything tender—of the London Ton.

  “Diana.” He whispered her name, and gooseflesh rose up on her arms. Turning, she met his gaze. Unwilling to forgive so easily, no matter how his charming expression threatened to turn her insides to jelly, she nodded coolly. “My lord.”

  “Excuse me, ladies; I’m going to steal my wife away.” He grasped her hand lightly and pulled her away amid whispers and a few sly smiles.

  “How bad is it?” Diana asked, not wanting to prolong not knowing. Her future could very well hinge on the answer.

  Brook studied her, and then led her to a small alcove. “You mean the business arrangement I’ve spoken about.”

  “Yes. The one that,” she whispered softly, “required you to marry me.”

  Brook glanced away, and then heaved a long sigh.

  Regret.

  She could feel it in her bones, her heart clenched in her chest, telling her the attachment she’d barely recognized had a deeper root than she’d ad
mitted.

  “Oh,” she replied, taking a slow breath. She wouldn’t cry; she wouldn’t react. No. He wanted her brave; she would be brave—damn it all. But she wouldn’t be brave for him; she would be brave for herself.

  “I’m sorry.” And she was. It was unfortunate.

  For both of them.

  “So am I,” he replied. “It was a good plan.” Diana nodded at the words, hazarding a glance at Brook, desperate to read his expression.

  “It was. Too bad it wasn’t as foolproof as I expected.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh, without humor. “But I don’t hold you responsible for anything; you have no need to worry. For this, I lay all the blame at Lord Walker’s feet . . . and my own. I should have known it wasn’t to be this simple.” He sighed.

  “I understand.” Diana glanced down to her gloved fingers. “Let’s just finish tonight with a brave face and then we’ll figure out things tomorrow,” she offered, hoping he would at least give her tonight. He was reconsidering everything, she was sure. It was a stab to the heart, and she felt breathless with the pain of it.

  “Of course.” He nodded, his expression slightly distracted, as if thinking over plans already.

  Diana forced a smile, took his hand, and allowed him to lead her to the ballroom floor. The strains of a waltz started. Eyes turned to them, and when Brook made no motion to the dance floor Diana gave his arm a little squeeze.

  After meeting her gaze with a curious expression, to his credit he caught on quickly and, with a charming smile, led them to start the waltz.

  As he led them in the graceful movements, Diana closed her eyes, pretending.

  Pretending that it was real.

  Pretending it wasn’t the last waltz.

  Pretending that everything was going according to plan, and that this was the first night of many.

  Not the first night of the end.

  CHAPTER 15