What did they mean? Would her uncle hire her out as a servant? Perhaps that was why he had stared. To see if she was strong and healthy. No. Mr. Lambrick had more than anger in his voice; he had a restlessness. She felt it with every word.
“I tell you, Emily. The man can’t be trusted. I can think of no other way to protect her.”
“Are you going to speak with Payton or shall I, dearie?”
“Send her to the library. I’ll offer her my protection and allow her to choose. After all, she may decide she would rather be with her family, but I pray not.”
No. Not with my uncle. I want to stay here...with Mr. Lambrick.
“What will this mean for her, sir?”
“Nothing. She will continue to live here under my protection, nothing more.”
“Nothing?”
In such a short time Jonathan Lambrick had grown to be more than her protector. He filled every corner of her heart. But he mustn’t know that.
“Nothing!” he bellowed.
Payton slipped from the library where she had been eavesdropping and tripped over her feet dashing for the sitting room where the downstairs maid dusted decorations. “May I help you, Clarisse?”
“My, there’s a storm breakin’ around here, now, isn’t there, miss? Did you know that man who come?”
“No. I’ve never seen him before. Here.” She lifted the box of decorations for the young maidservant. “I only know he made my skin crawl like spiders dancing on my arms. He looked funny at me.”
Clarisse reached for the box. “I seen men look like that before, miss. Like the one who eyes me whenever I go for vegetables for Mrs. Brewster. You’ll be wantin’ to stay away from him.”
Payton shivered and hugged herself again, but it didn’t help. “I may not have a choice. He said he was my next of kin. But I thought Mr. Lambrick was my guardian. I don’t understand. I don’t need any guardian.”
“Talk to the master first. Don’t be worryin’ until you know all the particulars.” She stretched out her hand and patted Payton’s arm. “There now, let the master have his say before you go fearin’ things out of your control.”
“Thank you, Clarisse. You’ve been kind to me ever since I arrived. If I must leave, you shall be missed. Everyone at Kent shall be missed. I’ve grown quite accustomed to you all.” Had she said all a little too familiarly? She lifted one of the delicate ornaments from the box, removed the paper and handed it off.
“And we would miss you, miss.” Her smile warmed until Payton felt a tad better.
Mrs. Brewster entered, clearing her throat. “Payton, dear, Mr. Lambrick would like to speak with you in the library.” She had tears in her eyes, and Payton was afraid he was going to tell her to pack her bag.
* * *
Payton’s hands shook, and her feet barely scuffled into the room. She looked helpless, so young. Tears filled her eyes before he even spoke to her. Had she heard them arguing? He stood and gestured to the chair by the fire. “Payton, did you hear us talking? Do you know what I want to speak with you about?”
“No, sir. Yes, sir, I mean. Is it about the man who said he was my uncle?”
“Yes. He is going to return soon and he says he will have proof he is your uncle.”
“I...I don’t wish to leave Kent Park. If you will allow me to stay.”
He took in the round eyes that tugged at his every emotion and wondered just how she would feel about his suggestion. And though he had promised himself never again, this was different. He had no choice. One look at her and he understood his duty. “It is possible the law may be on his side, Payton. You are not yet one and twenty. For a year, possibly more, he may be able to keep you with him.” His throat felt paralyzed with the thought of what Whittard might do to her, but he tried to remain calm for her sake.
She rose and held her hands to the fire. “But why? What does he want with me?”
What indeed? If only he knew he might be able to protect her by some other means. But there was little time and they must take action now or the girl would be lost forever. “Payton, I don’t believe he intends to be honorable where you are concerned. Do you understand what that means?”
“No, sir.” She turned to face him fully and she tried to smile, but instead her lip trembled and she shook as one lost in the cold without cape or gloves.
He had no intention of engaging in a parental discussion. Mrs. Brewster would handle that part. “There is no way for me to keep him from you save one. If you are in agreement, of course.” He took her hands in his. So small and helpless. His stomach churned to think of that man’s paws on her. “Does any of this make sense, Payton?” Her grasp, cold and frightened, had begun to thaw his heart.
“You look so stern, Mr. Lambrick. Did I do something to anger you?”
“No. You did nothing wrong. Sit back down. Please.” With a lack of care, he moved too quickly and pain racked him. He sucked in a breath that tore through his body like fire. She turned toward him and rose again.
“Are you all right, Mr. Lambrick?”
“Payton, I have to say this, no matter how incredible it may sound. Mrs. Brewster and I have no other solution to offer. Payton, if you will marry me, your uncle cannot take you away. Do you understand?”
“Marry you?”
The look on her face, as if she had just been offered a glass of vinegar instead of wine, a sow instead of a kitten. “Listen. He would not be allowed to force you from Kent Park.” He stared at the cane and sighed. “I understand I’m not much to look at, but it’s me or old Mr. Kenny or Birdie. You may say no and I will understand.” He fingered the scar that stretched down his cheek and thought how hideous he must appear to a young woman. Aware that the women he knew tended to attach themselves more to his purse than his looks, he had no idea what she might say.
They both remained quiet for what seemed an eternity. Was that a tentative smile or fear that crossed her features? If only... But he mustn’t allow personal feelings to enter into this arrangement in spite of the way she had begun to inch into his heart.
“I will abide by your decision for me, sir. All of you have been kindness itself, and if you believe me in danger, I will do as you say. But what about Miss Anne? I thought there was—”
“Nothing between us.” He understood Anne, all right. She was first in line for the money. Anything to restore her precious Newbury. She had made that clear years ago. Before Alithea. “We are friends. That is the only understanding between us.” He glanced away. “I know I have little to offer.”
“Mr. Lambrick, you are the handsomest man I have ever known.” She blushed, stepped back and bit the edge of her lip. “I suppose I sound forward. I am sorry.” He laughed and she turned back to look him in the eyes. “I have never heard you laugh before.”
“No?”
“You should do it more.” She smiled and her arms reached out, but he pinned them to her sides.
“This will be nothing more than a marriage for your safety. I intend to keep him from harming you. That’s all. Are you in agreement?”
Without pause she stepped back, and he didn’t miss the pain that overcame her face. “Of course. I never thought you meant—”
But she had. He could tell. “We must make everyone believe we are in earnest. We should exchange our vows the night of the ball. I’ll arrange for the special license, and we’ll wed at midnight. Surprise all of the guests. With Mrs. Brewster’s help, could you be ready?” She should at least be allowed a wedding. Friends and a feast. The Christmas ball would provide the perfect setting. “Well? We’ve barely a fortnight to prepare. Will that do? Answer me, Payton. We have little time if you are to be missish.”
Her jaw rammed forward in a way he’d grown familiar with. “I will be ready.”
“Tomorrow I’ll send Birdie to town and have Miss Anne p
urchase a gown. A very pretty gown.”
“There’s no need, sir.”
“Perhaps you should call me Jonathan. If we are to be believed.”
“Very well...Jonathan.”
“And you shall have a gown. The most beautiful gown in all of London.”
Chapter 6
With Clarisse, Payton toured the greenhouse and snipped enough flowers to fill the great ballroom. Though the wedding would be a sham, Payton’s excitement stirred in her breast. She had grown to love Jonathan Lambrick, ever since he’d kissed her. But, of course, that must remain her secret. His kindness should not be mistaken for love. He had been clear—this was a marriage of convenience to protect her from her uncle. She quivered whenever she thought of her uncle staring at her and was grateful Jonathan had thought of a way to provide shelter. Oh, God, am I doing the right thing? You said in Psalms You were my Protector, but is this the way? I know my father respected Mr. Lambrick—Jonathan.
They filled the baskets and skipped over the thick path of straw that had been put down to prevent a muddy walk the night of the ball. Payton shooed Clarisse ahead, and she stopped momentarily to visit with Mr. Kenny. She remained ever grateful to him for saving her puppy. As he fed Storm, she couldn’t resist offering half an apple to the magnificent animal.
“I do thank you for Hope.”
“There’s no need, Miss Payton.”
She pulled a flower from the basket and tucked it onto Mr. Kenny’s shirt. “There now. You’re all ready for the...ball.”
He winked at her. “I know what we’ll be a celebratin’. Congratulations to ya.”
“Does everyone know our secret?” She smiled before turning toward the entrance.
After warming by the fire, Clarisse nodded with her hands on her hips. “We’ve a sight of work to do.” She crawled up a ladder. “Could you pass the red berries up? I think I’ll weave ’em into the greenery. They should look nice and colorful, with tiny little candles lit just before the vicar arrives. Oh, how lovely ’twill be.”
Payton’s heart was so full, she hardly understood the feelings. But her gratitude could barely be expressed. She simply said, “Thank you, Clarisse.” Would she always feel closer to the help than to Jonathan? If only he looked at her the way her father had looked at her mother. Her arms would pull him to her. No, he had said he was marrying her to protect her from her uncle. Only to protect her.
Clarisse’s face beamed. Had Alithea taken time to thank the help? She wished she knew more about the woman. “By the way, a box arrived for ya. I saw Mrs. Brewster lug it upstairs. Yer gown?”
Payton’s eyes widened, and she grinned before she could stop herself. “If you don’t mind, I’ll go see.” She loosened her skirt from the waistband lest someone catch her, and she dashed for the stairs. Rounding the top, nearly out of breath, Jonathan startled her.
“Your skirt appears wrinkled. Has Clarisse forgotten to press it for you or have you been—”
Caught. And she wouldn’t allow Clarisse to accept the blame just to save her hide. She did her best to quiet her breathing. “No, sir. I left it on a chair last night and Hunter must have slept on it.” Not exactly a lie. She had left it on the chair and he might have slept on it.
“Shame on Hunter.” He laughed a deep, low rumble from his throat. “You would let the poor animal be blamed for your disgraceful behavior? Shame on you, Payton Whittard. And my name is Jonathan, not Sir.”
His taunting gaze let her know he forgave her for the bad habit of hiking her skirt. “Yes, Sir Jonathan.” She giggled before pushing wide her door and then slamming it behind her. Her heart fluttered and her breath steadied shakily as she recalled his laughter. Such a wonderful sound.
On the bed, a creamy silk gown with a light blue shimmer lay between two sheets. She ran her fingers over the silk and a gasp caught in her throat. She had never owned anything so beautiful. A slim box lay next to the gown. She opened it and squealed with delight. Three strands of braided pearls with a diamond-studded clasp nestled in the velvet lining. She appreciated he was doing all he could to make her happy, even if the marriage was...not to be real. She sighed. She would be safe. More than that, she could stay at her beloved Kent Park with all of her friends.
Her legs dangled over the edge of the bed. Kid leather slippers with cream-colored ribbons would peek under her gown and all the women would be envious. She would say “I do” and they would faint. Jonathan was so handsome. She would be wealthy. She had never thought of that before. And they would entertain and go to London. In a matter of seconds, her smile was replaced with a frown. She would have all of these things, but she wouldn’t really have a husband. Moving to the chair in front of her vanity, she dropped down and noticed another gift. A silver comb she recognized as her mother’s.
She opened the door and caught Jonathan leaning against the wall. He grimaced slightly, and gazed in her direction, his face a mixture of amusement, impatience and pain. “Well? What do you think? Will the ladies be envious?”
He had no inkling how envious. “Yes, of course. And Mother’s comb. Thank you. Where did you find it?”
He shouldered through the doorway. “In the ashes. It seemed to have come through the fire quite well once Clarisse scrubbed it.” His hint of a smile nearly choked her. “Is the gown to your liking?”
“It is beautiful. I shall never be able to thank you properly.” Although I wish I could thank you, very well indeed. She stared at the chiseled shape of his mouth and her cheeks grew warm.
“There is a veil, which Mrs. Brewster will keep hidden until the stroke of twelve.”
Her smile could be confined no longer and she clapped her hands, like a foolish child on Christmas morning. “I am so very happy, Mr. Lambrick. You have been as kind to me as my own father.”
“Your father!” His face darkened. He said not another word, but left the room. The heavy footsteps on the stairs told of his displeasure.
* * *
Anne Newbury and a party of five arrived with great fanfare two days before the ball. Jonathan was nowhere to be seen, so Payton welcomed Anne, trunks, boxes and all. She tried her best to act the lady and forget how unkind Anne had been to Jonathan when last she was at Kent Hall. “Thank you, Anne. Your being here means a great deal to Jonathan.”
“It’s ‘Jonathan’ now?” She stepped away from her group and whispered in Payton’s ear. “You sly little thing. I’ve been away such a short time and already you have him panting at your side. So it’s innocence he longs for?”
Anne rejoined her party and smiled broadly, leaving Payton to guess at her meaning. Payton did her best to understand what had happened between Miss Anne and Jonathan after his wife’s death. At times, she thought they had once been a couple, but she couldn’t be certain. Did Jonathan not see how Anne longed to be part of his life?
When Anne drew to Payton’s side again, she said, “Miss Whittard, I would like you to meet my cousin, Addison Barstow, his sister, Caroline Brayden, and her husband, Edward. This handsome fellow is Wallace Fitzhugh, an old beau of my sister’s. He’s a foe of Jonathan’s but we shall be discreet. What say you, Wallace?”
“I say, where is the old boy? I haven’t laid eyes on Jonathan since he wed Alithea. I have no doubt he remembers that encounter very well.”
“Why is that, Mr. Fitzhugh?” Payton asked, unsure she wanted the answer from the mysterious expression on his face.
“We had a nasty brawl when he discovered me showering his bride with kisses.”
She gasped and Anne reached for her hand. “Darling, they have no doubt long since given over their hard feelings. Wallace and Jonathan grew up boyhood friends, and I just knew Jonathan would not want a wedding without him here.”
So the wedding was only a surprise to the locals? Naturally if Anne had arranged for her gown, she might have told th
e others. She blinked. What exactly was Anne planning?
Just then Jonathan breezed through with a hearty welcome. “Did I hear you say wedding? Who let the cat out of the bag?” His eyes opened wide when he observed Wallace Fitzhugh standing behind an assortment of satchels and trunks. A hat box in Wallace’s hand prevented him from shaking hands with his boyhood friend.
Payton could not politely look away but instead stared at the men, wondering at their history.
Fitzhugh sneered. “You look well, Lambrick. I’d not have known you had Anne not pointed you out. Still the handsome rake, I see.”
Jonathan scowled but offered a slight bow, enough to be polite. “And how is it you accompanied Anne?”
Payton sensed the tension building and wished to do or say something to pacify the two stags pawing at the ground. “Anne prevailed upon your childhood companion to escort her. Wasn’t that thoughtful, Jonathan?”
“Very.” He slowly moved to Payton’s side. Tenderly lifting her hand, he kissed her fingertips as he smiled. “Have you met my fiancée, Wallace? Payton Whittard.”
“Yes, we met. A lovely girl. I’m envious.”
“You always were.” Jonathan’s eyes sparkled with more than humor, and Payton stepped back, the air so thick with words unsaid, she was suffocating.
She tugged at Jonathan’s arm and moved them all toward the great hall. “Would you care for some light refreshments after your long journey? Mrs. Brewster has had the cook prepare many of Jonathan’s favorites for you. If you’ll be kind enough to follow me.” She grasped his arm tighter and directed him away from Wallace Fitzhugh. Already, she did not care for or understand this connection.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Thank you. But Payton, understand this, even when injured I still am able to fight my own battles.” Then he smiled, no doubt for his guests’ sake. She noticed Anne providing them a side glance, and she returned the look. Smiling at Jonathan came easily and she would be happy to do it more often than merely for show.
She whispered back, “I shall remember, Sir Jonathan.”
Bride by Necessity (9781460333907) Page 6
