My Brother's Bride

by Rachael Anderson

  “You used to call me Knave,” he said as he held out his arm.

  Her smile appeared weary. “Forgive me, Knave. I am not quite myself this evening.”

  “Would you prefer to rest this set instead? You are looking a trifle pale.” His brow crinkled in concern.

  “And miss the opportunity to dance with a dear friend? I think not.”

  Morgan kept an eye on the pair as they walked to the dance floor. He couldn’t deny that his sister-in-law made a graceful figure next to Lord Knave. The alluring swing of her hips, her straight posture, and the elegant curve of her neck would capture most men’s attention. For his brother’s sake, Morgan hoped there was more to her than beauty.

  “Lord Jasper,” said Lady Knave, pulling his brother’s—and Morgan’s—attention back to her. “I wonder if you would be so kind as to procure me some punch? I’m feeling parched all of a sudden.”

  “Your wish is my command.” Jasper gallantly bowed before excusing himself.

  As soon as he was out of earshot, Lady Knave stepped beside Morgan and took his arm. “Lord Brigston, I have been watching you for much of the evening, and I believe that you are as bewildered and troubled about this elopement as I am. Have I deduced your feelings accurately?”

  He hesitated a span before answering. “Yes.”

  She nodded. “I assure you we had no notion they were planning to elope. Lord Jasper arranged for them to see the fireworks at Vauxhall with a large party, and we assumed her reputation would be safe with him. He didn’t send word of their actual destination until the following morning. By then it was too late to follow. I’m sorry for it.” She frowned, and glanced sideways at Jasper, who had stopped to converse with an older woman. “I do not know your brother well, but he seems to be a decent sort of person. Please tell me I am correct in that deduction as well.”

  Morgan had never been spoken to in such a forthright manner by a woman he hardly knew. As refreshing as candor was to artifice, it made him uncomfortable.

  “What makes you think you can trust my opinion, Lady Knave?” he asked.

  She met his gaze. “My father-in-law tells me you speak your opinions plainly and intelligently in the House of Lords. I’m hoping you’ll do the same with me.”

  Only a few moments remained before Jasper returned, but Morgan didn’t know how to answer. He couldn’t exactly say his brother was a fool, but he couldn’t lie either.

  He chose his words carefully. “Jasper is impetuous, at times heedless, and prefers to live in the moment without giving much thought to the consequences. But his spirits are always high, and he has a good heart. I believe he will make your friend an admirable husband.” Morgan could only hope that would be the case. Jasper had it in him to be a good husband if that’s what he chose to be.

  Lady Knave nodded slowly, no doubt contemplating his words. In the end, she seemed satisfied by his answer. “Thank you for being candid with me, Lord Brigston. I was aware that Abby nursed a tendré for your brother, but I haven’t the faintest notion what induced them to marry in such a ramshackle fashion. As she mentioned earlier, she has not been herself since their return, not even with me. There is a distance between us that has never existed before, and I don’t understand it.”

  “I wish I could enlighten you, my lady.”

  She frowned and plucked at the fingertips of her gloves. “What’s done is done, I suppose, and it relieves my mind to know she has wed a good man. I hope they will find happiness together, I truly do.” She pressed her lips together before adding, “I cannot force her to confide in me, but if she should find herself in need of a friend at some point, know that I would come in an instant.”

  “I believe you would,” said Morgan, impressed by her perception and thoughtfulness. The new Lady Jasper must have some redeeming qualities if she’d manage to acquire such a dedicated and loyal friend. Jasper’s cronies were certainly not of the same caliber.

  Lady Knave continued to fiddle with her gloves, so Morgan touched her shoulder in a gesture of comfort. “I’m certain you’re worrying needlessly, my lady.”

  “I can only pray that I am,” she murmured.

  Seconds later, when Jasper returned with her requested glass of punch, all creases around her eyes vanished as she flashed him a winsome smile. “Thank you, kind sir. You have been most prompt.”

  “I would never keep such a lovely lady waiting for too long, especially in this stifling room.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “Am I alone in thinking it excessively warm in here?”

  Lady Knave took a sip of her drink. “Hopefully you do not think it too warm to dance, Lord Jasper. I hear you make an… admirable partner.” She cast a meaningful glance at Morgan before dimpling at his brother.

  Jasper took her half-empty glass and handed it off to a passing footman. “If Morgan has given you the impression that my dancing skills are only admirable, he has led you astray. I challenge you to find another man in this room who can dance the steps of the minuet with as much dexterity and finesse as I.”

  Her eyes sparkled with delight as she accepted his arm. “Challenge accepted, my lord.”

  Morgan couldn’t resist a smile of his own as they walked away. Something told him that his brother wouldn’t be exchanging pleasantries with Lady Knave. She was on a mission to see that her friend would be happily situated, and Morgan would wager a large sum that Jasper was about to be measured and interrogated. Perhaps even lectured.

  No one could be more deserving.

  Two Months Later

  A KNOCK ON the door caused Morgan to look up from his estate ledgers. He cast a quick glance at his bailiff, Mr. Decker, who sat across from him. The man was short, somewhat gaunt, and rarely smiled, but he performed his duties admirably. Morgan had relied on his wise counsel since the death of his father.

  “Enter,” called Morgan.

  The door opened, and his butler, Smithson, walked in, his commanding height making the room feel smaller. He knew better than to disturb his employer during a business meeting, so the reason for his interruption had to be important.

  “What is it, Smithson?” he asked.

  “Forgive the intrusion, my lord, but your mother has asked that I summon you to the drawing room. Lord and Lady Jasper have arrived.”

  Morgan took a moment to digest the news. Jasper? Here? Now? Why? His brother despised Oakley Grange. The village of Cawley boasted only a small society which Jasper found sadly wanting. He preferred the hustle and bustle of town during the season and Brighton the remainder of the year, with various house parties in betwixt and between. During the past five years, Jasper had returned to Oakley Grange only twice. Once, to host a hunting party and the other to attend their father’s funeral, not that Morgan was complaining. Jasper’s presence often had a disruptive influence on Morgan’s life, and while he exercised patience with his brother in town, he preferred to be left alone at Oakley.

  “Did my brother mention how long he intends to stay?” Morgan glanced at Mr. Decker again, knowing he would be expected to entertain his brother, dine with the family, and waste precious hours socializing. He didn’t have the time or the desire to engage in such pursuits.

  “No, my lord,” answered the butler, “but they brought several trunks with them.”

  In other words, they’d come prepared for a lengthy stay. Blast.

  Morgan stood and walked to the window, looking out over the western side of his property. There was much to be done during the next few months and so little time to do it. His family had been using the same open-field system for years. Not long after Morgan had stepped into the title of The Marquess of Brigston, he had decided it was past time to join the strips of common fields into larger, organized areas, and enclose them with hedgerows of hawthorn and copse wood. Many other estates had enclosed their fields, and the benefits were immense. It would aid in crop rotation and provide designated grazing areas for cattle—another investment Morgan planned to tackle in the near future.

  Unfo
rtunately, his plans required a significant investment of both capital and time, the latter of which did not please his mother. Only yesterday, she’d accused him of becoming too consumed with his new role and forgetting about other, equally important duties, such as finding a wife and settling down. But Morgan wasn’t interested in courting or taking on a wife just yet. He was interested in renovation and bringing the family’s estate into the nineteenth century with all possible speed.

  But now that Jasper had arrived… Morgan’s hopes of accomplishing everything before the next parliament session began to dissolve.

  “I can’t imagine it will be for too long,” Smithson added, probably noting the frustration on his employer’s face. “You brother does not like to linger in the country for long.”

  “Unless he has invited some cronies for a house party,” muttered Morgan under his breath, praying that wasn’t the case. He turned away from the window and eyed his ledgers, wishing he could ignore his brother and return to work.

  His mother would never forgive him.

  Morgan sighed. “Mr. Decker, it seems we must postpone this meeting for another time. Please excuse me.”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  Morgan stepped into the hallway and followed the sound of voices to the drawing room. His brother was recounting a tale, probably about their journey to Oakley. With Jasper, there was always a tale.

  He paused outside the room, waiting for his brother to finish.

  “A herd of cows blocked the road, impeding our progress. Our coachman yelled and waved his arms, to no avail. The stubborn beasts would not budge. While I hunted around for a nice spot under some trees where Lady Jasper and I could wait in some comfort, she had other plans. She located a long stick and began whipping the backsides of those wretched cows, telling them to get a move on.”

  Jasper chortled. “I had no idea I had married such a determined woman, but wouldn’t you know, those beasts at last began to move. Even our coachman couldn’t hide his astonishment. I have never been so diverted in my life.”

  “Oh my,” said their mother, sounding more shocked than diverted.

  Morgan hid his smile as he entered the room, making his presence known.

  “There you are, Morgan.” His mother cast him a grateful look. “Only look who has come. Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “Yes.” He nodded to the newcomers. Jasper appeared his usual, well-kept self, but his wife’s bonnet was slightly askew, a few wayward strands of hair had escaped her coiffure, and the hem of her dusty blue skirt was marred with blotches of mud. Apparently, the cows had found a way to settle the score somewhat.

  “Welcome, Jasper and… Lady Jasper.” Morgan wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the sound of that name.

  “Please call me Abby,” she implored. “We are brother and sister, after all. I would rather not stand on ceremony.”

  Jasper took her hand possessively in his and grinned. “She has entreated me to do the same, but I refuse. She is a lady in every way, and I cannot call her anything less.”

  “A lady who whips cows?” she asked wryly. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  Morgan snickered but quickly covered it up with a cough. He may not know his new sister-in-law well, but he liked that she didn’t take herself, or her new title, too seriously.

  Jasper pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Only a lady would take charge as you did, my dear. I thought it most commanding of you.”

  “You exaggerate.” Red tinged her cheeks, and she shifted uncomfortably. “Impatience led me to act as I did, not command. I had no wish to sit among the weeds and wait it out.”

  Morgan would have felt the same. Passing time beneath a tree might sound romantic, but the ground would have been uneven and hard, the grass itchy, and the bugs irritating. Rather than brandish a stick at the cows, however, Morgan would have been more inclined to unhitch a horse, borrow the coachman’s whip, and encourage the herd to move from atop a taller beast.

  “Were you not afraid of getting trampled?” asked Lady Brigston.

  Abby shook her head. “My father raised cattle, and I’ve become accustomed to them. Sometimes our caretaker would let me accompany him when he’d have to check on something in the fields. It was great fun.”

  His mother’s eyes grew wider by the moment. “Your father allowed you to round up cattle with the help?”

  Abby blushed, looking as though she regretted speaking so openly. “Er… no. Not exactly. He was away much of the time for business, and… well, I suppose that what he didn’t know he couldn’t scold me for later.”

  Jasper laughed while his mother attempted to hide her astonishment behind a distressed smile. She had always been a stickler for rules and conventions. If she’d ever had a daughter, Morgan was certain that an afternoon spent rounding up cattle wouldn’t have been an option.

  Abby fiddled with her leather traveling gloves, which she now held on her lap. Since Jasper seemed oblivious to his wife’s discomfort, Morgan attempted to set her at ease.

  “I would like to speak with your father one day, Abby. I have been considering investing in some cattle and would love to hear his opinion on the matter. Has it been a successful venture for him, do you know?”

  She brightened a little. “I believe so. He rarely spoke of such things to me, but he must have considered it worthwhile because we were never without cows. If you’d like, I can write to him on your behalf, Lord Brigston.”

  “If I am to call you Abby, you must call me Brigston. I’d rather not stand on ceremony either. And yes, I would be grateful for an introduction.”

  Jasper settled against the back of the settee and stretched his arms as though bored.

  “If you will write down the questions you have,” Abby offered. “I will send them with my letter.”

  “Thank you. Tell me, did he keep bulls as well?”

  She nodded, and a few more curls escaped from beneath her bonnet. She quickly swept them behind her ear as she made a face. “Unfortunately, yes. Cows may be docile creatures, but bulls are not. I was charged once as a girl, and I had to scramble under the fence to get away from the horrid creature. I can still see the cruel gleam in his black eyes.”

  Her words must have peaked Jasper’s interest because he returned to the conversation. “I’m certain my brother would never invest in such creatures, my love, at least not while you’re at Oakley.”

  Jasper was doing it a bit brown, even for Jasper. Morgan barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “I don’t have immediate plans to acquire cattle, but when I do, a bull will be a necessary evil, I’m afraid. One cannot breed cattle without them.”

  “Morgan, how can you speak of such things with ladies present?” chided his mother. Morgan might have felt penitent if Abby had not ducked her head to hide a smile. Good. Now she wouldn’t be the only one to cause shock and appall.

  “Forgive me, Mother and Abby,” he said.

  “What about me?” teased Jasper. “Do you not have a care for my sensibilities as well?”

  “I can’t say that I do,” said Morgan.

  Jasper brushed some dust from his pantaloons and shook his head sadly at his bride. “Can you now see the torment I’ve been made to endure? Morgan has always been an unfeeling brother. If I had not been blessed with such an angelic mother, I would have become wretched indeed.”

  Morgan nodded in agreement. “Without Mother’s influence, you’d likely be in prison for stealing the Carthright’s horse and trying to convince Danny Jones that oak sap was honey.”

  Jasper smiled smugly, no doubt proud of his misadventures. “I only borrowed that horse, and Danny deserved that sap for destroying the fort I built on the beach.”

  “You mean the fort Father and I built,” said Morgan dryly. “Oh wait, you did drag over that one log, didn’t you? So you’d have a place to sit and watch us work.”

  Jasper cocked his head at his wife. “My brother has a dreadful memory.”

  “And you have an inflated opin
ion of yourself,” said Morgan.

  “Good heavens,” their mother inserted. “Do you want Abby to think you’re both rogues?” She tried to mask her amusement behind a look of chastisement but failed. It was obvious she was enjoying the banter, probably because it was a rare occurrence. Though the brothers had been close at one time, the passing years had forced a divide between them. Morgan had become more responsible while Jasper dallied about, heedless of anyone’s desires but his own.

  There was a reason the brothers were no longer close.

  “Abby, who looked after you while your father was away?” his mother asked, no doubt attempting to bring her daughter-in-law back into the conversation.

  “My great-aunt Josephine. She was older and… inclined to snooze a great deal.”

  Morgan pressed his lips together to avoid smiling. Abby was proving to be highly diverting. Not many would dare admit as much to the dowager marchioness, but Abby made no apologies for her father or the way she was raised. Morgan had to give her credit for that. Perhaps there was more to his new sister-in-law than met the eye. Perhaps his brother had seen it too, and this marriage had not been as impulsive as it seemed.

  “Did your father not employ a governess?” pressed his mother.

  “My great-aunt Josephine came to us as my governess. In the beginning, she was adept and taught me well, but during my fourteenth year, she suffered an apoplexy and was never the same. She would fade away now and again, and her memory wasn’t as sharp. Over time, she began to nap more and instruct less, and when my father at last realized the full extent of her illness, I had grown accustomed to my independence and pled with him not to replace her. He reluctantly agreed when I assured him I would study on my own—which I did, but I also let myself enjoy life more.”

  She eyed her mother-in-law with nervousness. “I hope that doesn’t come as a shock to you, Lady Brigston.”

  “Not at all,” she replied weakly.

  Jasper must have finally noticed his wife’s discomfort because he stood and held a hand out to her. “Forgive us, but Lady Jasper and I would like to get some rest before dinner. It has been a long journey.”