With His Ring (Brides of Bath Book 2)

by Cheryl Bolen

  But when he heard her footfall and turned to face her with his dazzling smile, she felt the deception of his persona. "Good morning," she said, shooting him a smile she did not feel and pouring hot coffee from a sterling urn on the sideboard. He sprang to his feet as she walked toward the table, and he began to pull out the chair on his immediate left.

  Yesterday's voluptuous clouds had reneged on their promises of rain, and the warm sun now revealed itself for the first time in days. "A good day for a ride," she said.

  "But I thought you were terrified of horses."

  She sighed. "My dear Mr. Blankenship---"

  "Blanks." His eyes glittered.

  She ignored him. "Must I continually remind you I am no longer that child you persist in remembering me as?"

  His slow, sensuous grin dissolved her. "Are you not still waiting for your prince?"

  "The past two seasons, yes, but I assure you I no longer harbor such childish illusions."

  "A pity," he said with a bit of moroseness, his warm chestnut eyes studying hers.

  She selected a scone from beneath the covered salver on the table. "I admit being surrounded by the boundless love of George and Diana and Felicity and Thomas is a bit daunting. I suppose being party to such devotion would be pleasant, but I cannot aspire to such."

  His brows lifted. "So jaded at nineteen?"

  She placed her scone on the dish and directed an icy glance at the man she loved. "I am not a child, Mister Blankenship, but a woman with realistic expectations."

  "Somehow I miss the girl who believed in happy endings."

  His words cut through her like a rapier. She did so believe in love and happy endings, but she knew Blanks wanted no part of them. She had to convince him she shared his abhorrence of being shackled. Only then could she cultivate his love.

  "Please say that you'll ride with me this morning," she said, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

  "It will be my pleasure."

  After breakfast, she took great pains with her toilet. With help from Patty, her abigail, Glee donned her emerald green riding habit. Emerald was most definitely her best color. A good match for her eyes. For years she had lamented that she was not blonde with periwinkle eyes like her sister Felicity. But after two seasons of unequaled success, Glee had discovered that her auburn hair and ivory skin were as appreciated as her sister's blonde fairness.

  She hoped her success had nothing to do with the fine wardrobe she had been able to acquire since Felicity had married a man with the means to restore to them the lifestyle of a viscount's family. How she had detested wearing Felicity's well-worn hand-me-downs and having no funds for abigails or slippers without holes. Most of all she had hated having no money for subscriptions to the lending libraries. Now, thank heavens, she was able to read whatever she liked whenever she liked. At least when she was in Bath.

  Patty gingerly placed the green velvet hat askance on Glee's swept-back hair, then plunged in a hat pin to secure it. She stood back to appraise her charge. "The master's friend is sure to swoon when he takes a look at you."

  Glee's brows lowered. "What makes you think I care a fig about what Mr. Blankenship thinks?"

  "'Cause I know you too well."

  "Is it that obvious?" Glee asked, her lips puckered into a pout.

  "To a woman, yes. But men don't think of the same things we do. I'm sure your Mr. Blankenship will never notice any change in you."

  Glee sighed with relief, then dabbed rose water on the soft side of her wrists. She cast a glance in her looking glass, satisfied with her reflection. Riding habits revealed her trim waist far better than the dresses dictated by fashion. She smiled mischievously at Patty. "I should like it excessively if Mr. Blankenship swooned over me."

  With a wink, she disappeared through the door.

  * * *

  They had not spoken as they rode through the thicket, Blanks considerately lifting low-hanging tree branches to clear her path. When they entered the glen still bleak from winter's cold, he spoke. "I return to Bath tomorrow."

  Her heart stampeded. When it stilled enough for her to speak, her voice was low and not without disappointment. "So soon?"

  He smiled and nodded. "George is much too busy to entertain me in the ways he once did."

  While George's new responsibilities diminished the pleasure he had once given Blanks, Glee took pride in her brother's transformation from reckless rake to happy family man. But obviously, he was not a man Blanks wanted to emulate. If Gregory Blankenship did not know his own heart, Glee most certainly thought she did. With the right woman, he, too, could put to pasture his irrepressible quest for amusement. He, too, could become the son his father had wanted him to become. He could settle at Sutton Hall, have children, and continue to steer the thriving estates as his disciplined father had done before him. Glee was convinced she knew Blanks' heart better than he. In time, she could bring about the changes in him. With true love to bolster him, his smiles could be windows to his soul, not screens covering his torture.

  For she instinctively knew Blanks was tortured, but she knew not why. George said Blanks had been the most popular lad at Eton. He excelled in sport. He grew bigger and stronger than his classmates—and far more handsome. His income was enormous, and as the first son, promised to be extravagant. What in his life could have caused him to shun love and commitment?

  "George had to meet with his steward this morning," Blanks continued. "He plans to work me in this afternoon. We had decided on billiards if it were raining, but now that's it's sunny, we'll shoot."

  "I confess I've enjoyed having you all to myself, but I suppose it's been far too tedious for you—since you obviously think of me as a silly chit."

  He scowled at her. "A lady does not use the word chit."

  "Then you think of me as a lady—and not a little girl?"

  "Of course. I realize, too, that were we in Bath, you and I would be prohibited from riding alone together."

  "Thanks heavens we're not in Bath!"

  Once they had ridden through the glen and came upon a small pond she asked if they could stop for their picnic.

  They rode to the edge of the shimmering green water, then Gregory dismounted and helped her from her horse before unloading his saddlebags of their luncheon fare. There were hard eggs and newly churned cheese and bread that had been still hot from the oven when Cook packed it. Gregory had seen to it that a bottle of Bordeaux had been stashed in the saddlebag, too. As he tethered the horses, Glee spread out their repast.

  He watched as she gracefully sat beside the food and removed her hat. Her magnificent tresses had come loose and twirled along the slender marble column of her neck. His breath caught, and he had to remind himself Glee was no temptress but George's little sister.

  It was difficult. With her fragile porcelain beauty and that glorious head of hair, she was quite possibly the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld. And though she was small, he noted that her figure curved pleasantly in the right places.

  She poured his wine and silently handed it to him as he sat down. His fingers brushed across her delicate hands, and he fought the urge to envelop her hand in his, to settle his lips on her rosebud mouth. Good lord, what had he been thinking to steal her away without benefit of a chaperon? A moron could determine that Glee Pembroke was a lovely young woman whom no man could resist.

  And Gregory was indeed a man. Despite that he had vowed to never sully a lady. For George's sake—and for Glee's—Gregory would honor that vow.

  He watched as Glee spread soft cheese on a chunk of bread. When she finished, she looked up at him, dazzling him with deep green eyes framed with long, dark lashes. Had the scamp colored them?

  "Is anything as good as fresh country cheese?" she asked, offering him the bread in her hand.

  He took it, bit in and agreed heartily with her as she prepared another piece for herself. They ate all they had brought and languidly finished the wine.

  His belly full, Gregory dug his dust
y Hessians into the brittle grass, leaned back on his elbows and allowed the sun to warm the length of him.

  "You know, Blanks, I've been thinking about your problem," Glee began. "Your father was a positive ogre to raise you to vast expectations, then withdraw them once you've had a quarter of a century to grow accustomed to them."

  "My thoughts exactly."

  "You could never manage as your brother does. You must have a valet and tailoring by Weston. You must have the purse to allow the deep play you enjoy so dearly, and the fencing and boxing with the best masters and the finest mounts Tattersall's has to offer." She placed her willowy hands on her waist. "You simply must get married."

  He grinned and let out a harrumph. "That would be as detestable to me as being poor."

  Her face grew serious. "Of course, you're right, but I wasn't thinking of a real marriage. I think you should have a marriage in name only. You'd be free to cavort as you always have. In fact, I've given it considerable thought, and I've decided we should suit each other's needs admirably."

  He choked and jerked up, casting a suspicious glance at Glee. "We?"

  Her lovely eyes round, she nodded. "I am precisely what you need, Gregory Blankenship."

  "Thank you for your generous offer, but I must refuse. I have no desire to marry—even to one as perfect for my situation as you."

  "Now don't be so hasty," she said, lifting her chin petulantly. "You don't want a real wife, and I don't want a real husband. However, I should like excessively to be a married woman, especially to a man of means. I could have my own house in Bath—well, it would actually be our house—and I could buy new gowns whenever I wanted. I could even keep a carriage."

  He started to protest, but she shooed him to silence.

  "Just think, Blanks, we've known each other forever. I find nothing at all offensive in you, and I hope you will be able to tolerate me."

  He merely nodded as he listened to her lunacy. After all, he couldn't hurt the girl's feelings.

  She babbled on. "Since I discovered that I could not seem to fall in love, I have determined it is far better to unite myself to someone whom I enjoy being with. And I've always loved being with you." She stopped long enough to take a breath. "So there you have it."

  Good lord, she was serious! He saw it in the earnestness of her lovely face. He would have to let her down with consideration. "It's most kind of you to sacrifice yourself for me, but I cannot allow it," he said. "You deserve a man who will cherish you as George cherishes Diana."

  "Fie," she said. "I'd far rather link my life to one who enjoys a rollicking good time, not a stuffed shirt like George has become. We'd have great fun, Blanks, and I promise not to tie you down."

  He began to pick up the leavings of their lunch, avoiding contact with her spectacular eyes. "You have done me a great honor, Miss Pembroke, but, nonetheless, I must decline."

  Now he allowed himself a glimpse into her face. Her eyes moistened. Poor lass, she really had been serious. Marrying him had actually appealed to her. He hated like the devil to hurt her. Tossing aside his bundle, he scooted to her side and took her slender hand into his brown one. Like the rich texture of the thick velvet she wore, Glee was softness and beauty and sweet smells of rose petals.

  She swallowed hard and began to speak, her voice quivering. "'Twould be a marriage in name only. You could. . ." she gulped, "keep your mistresses."

  He muttered a curse under his breath and let go of her hand. "You're not supposed to know of such things."

  She looked up at him, her face sorrowful. "I am a woman."

  "Precisely why I cannot marry you. I don't want a wife, and I don't want children. To deny you the love of a husband and the satisfaction of bearing fat babes would be a heinous offense."

  She sat up straight and ran her fingers through her wind-blown curls. He doesn't want children. How very odd. "I knew you didn't want a wife, but no children?"

  His dark eyes piercing into hers, he nodded.

  "I thought all men wanted an heir."

  "Not me. Never have."

  It had not occurred to Glee that Blanks did not want children. She had never imagined she would not give birth to a bevy of babes. Now, she must rethink what it was she wanted from life. Blanks, most assuredly. But no babes? If that was the only way she could have him, she might have to settle for being childless, but Glee had every confidence she could change Blanks's ideas on the subject once they were married. The trick was to get him to marry her.

  She smiled and spoke lightly. "Diana's birthing was unmistakably the most horrid experience of my life. I daresay I'll not be disappointed to be spared such torture."

  She had been unable to look him in the eye as she spoke, for she had lied when she said she did not want children. Actually, she hadn't lied. She had not said she didn't want children; she said she didn't crave the birthing experience.

  Glee stood up and tried to be flippant. "If you won't marry me, I'll have to throw myself away on someone else." Then she strode to untie her horse.

  He got to his feet, cursing under his breath. He silently gave her a leg up, then mounted his own bay. They rode back through the glen, and he cleared her way through the thicket, but they did not speak.

  Even when they rode up to the manor house, and a footman took charge of their mounts, no words passed between them.

  * * *

  During the afternoon, Gregory hunted with George, and they nearly rekindled their former intimacy. They wagered on whether it would take twelve minutes or fifteen to reach the wood. They wagered on which of the two would be the first to bag a dove. They wagered on which dove would weigh the most. And they tipped a flask of Scotch whiskey to ward off the gathering chill.

  Despite the ease with which the two men conversed on trivialities, Gregory could not apprise George of his sister's unusual offer. 'Twould be a marriage in name only...It was a proposal which dominated Gregory's every thought.

  I'll have to throw myself away on someone else kept ringing in his ear like a death knell.

  Chapter 4

  When she heard the servants stirring early the next morning, Glee rose from her rumpled bed and began to dress herself. After she pulled her soft muslin dress over her head, she shot a glance into her looking glass. Though the chamber was dimly lit at this early hour, she saw well enough to plunge into a foul temper. Lack of sleep embedded itself on her face. Her last hope of ensnaring Blanks had been to dazzle him with her beauty today. She stomped her bare foot, cursing the fact she had lain awake all night and cursing the man who caused her lack of sleep.

  She flung herself on the cushioned bench before her Venetian dressing table and propped her face on her fists, her thoughts once more flitting to Blanks. Throughout the wee hours of the morning, lying in the darkness of her room, Glee had planned to the last detail what she would wear this morning and how Patty would arrange her hair. Now, with the puffiness around her eyes, Glee would never attract Blanks.

  During the night, each tick from the ormolu clock on her mantel had painfully reminded her that Blanks would be leaving today. With each passing second, he slipped further from her grasp. He would return to Bath, her clever plot to ensnare him a failure.

  She had but a few hours in which to capture him before he departed, and she meant to do everything in her power to convince him to marry her. She did not regret any of her actions, only their failure. Was there something else she could have done or said that might have persuaded him to marry her? She had turned this question over and over in her mind, but no better plan presented itself.

  Glee was sliding on her kid slippers when Patty quietly entered her chamber. "My, but you're up early, Miss Glee." She walked to her mistress's dressing table and took up Glee's brush. "Is it because Mr. Blankenship leaves today?"

  Glee nodded solemnly, then shot a hopeful look at her abigail. "Patty, it's imperative that you fashion my hair lovelier than you've ever done before. This is my last hope with Mr. Blankenship. I have a terrible feeling h
e will find someone else when he returns to Bath."

  Patty stood back to survey Glee, then nodded slowly. "We'll sweep that thick hair of yours back and allow some curls to spiral about your fair face. You'll be quite the most beautiful girl he's ever seen." She ran her eye over her mistress's soft ivory dress, then began to brush out Glee's coppery tresses.

  "Woman, not girl," Glee corrected. "I want Gregory Blankenship to think of me as a woman."

  A deep smile brought out the dimples on Patty's thin, fair face. "The gentleman will assuredly think of you as a hot-blooded woman in that dress." Her glance flicked to the top of Glee's white breasts that barely tucked into the bodice of her gown.

  When Patty was finished, Glee gushed with admiration over her maid's accomplishment. Her hair looked so lovely the bags under her eyes quite possibly might not be so very noticeable after all.

  Since none of the servants would be prepared for breakfast at this early hour, Glee decided to take a turn around the park. If she were lucky, one last scheme to capture Blanks would present itself to her as she walked. Hopefully, the mist would not saturate her hair too much. She had to look her best at breakfast. Breakfast with Blanks.

  * * *

  Gregory's heels jabbed into his mount, and the bay streaked through the wood surrounding Hornsby Manor, swooping winds at his back. He lifted his face to the gathering clouds and frowned. They had deuced better clear. He felt low enough already without the weather threatening his departure.

  Why did he feel so wretched? Lack of sleep, of course, contributed to his malaise. Throughout the night visions of that blasted Glee Pembroke flashed through his mind. He kept picturing her as she looked when she had told him she would have to wed someone else. Bloody hell. The girl deserved her prince charming but would likely settle for something considerably less.