Gayle Callen - [Brides of Redemption 02]

by Surrender to the Earl

  “Why did you speak with my father?” she asked.

  “Right to the point—I like that about you, Mrs. Blake.”

  “I had assumed you would discuss your decision with me first.”

  “I had to follow the rules of courtship. Which meant I had to inform your father I was marrying you.”

  Her breath caught in shock, and then fury and disbelief filled her up like a pitcher about to overflow. “I will not marry you!”

  “Keep your voice down,” he murmured. “I’m not truly planning to marry you—you’ve told me you’ll never marry again.”

  She swallowed heavily, forced herself to breathe again. “Then why did you tell him that?”

  “How else did you think I could get you away from here? I was not about to flee dishonestly in the night, as if I’d compromised you and we had something to hide.”

  “Now we just have a false engagement to hide.”

  “You are not thinking clearly. Since we’re newly engaged, and you’re widowed, I can escort you and your lady’s maid to your new home—conveniently close to mine—to ease the wedding preparations. Once you’re settled, you can break off the engagement, as is every woman’s right. Who would blame you? We barely know each other, and thank God we took the time to discover our differences before we married, yes?”

  She was still breathing deeply, realizing how frightened the thought of being married again made her. It was such a visceral, sickening feeling, that sense of helplessness she’d experienced being passed back from her husband to her father, as if she were but a possession, not a person with feelings to be hurt.

  But his words calmed her, and at last she began to make sense of his plan. “Yes, I see what you’re saying. You’re an earl who wants to marry me, taking an invalid off her father’s hands. People should think my father the luckiest man in existence. Or that I must have an incredible treasure in jewels.”

  “Now you’re sounding sarcastic,” he pointed out.

  She was surprised to feel the beginnings of a smile. “I am sorry I reacted in quick anger when you’re only trying to help me.”

  He put his gloved hand on hers. “Believe me, I understand your disillusionment with marriage. My parents’ marriage was even colder than a mountain battlefield. They cared nothing for each other, and knew that from the beginning. It was a match to satisfy their families and their social status, that was all.”

  “I’m sorry. That sounds terrible for you.”

  “They didn’t beat me, and they provided for me. There are many who have it worse.”

  She felt the cushions shift as he stood, bringing her hand up with him until she was forced to rise.

  “Off to bed with you,” he said. “You must fortify yourself before we break the news to the rest of your family. I’ll let the hunting party go off without me in the morning and try to convince your brother to join his friends late.”

  She winced. “You had the worst of it, dealing with my father. I will find the words to explain to Blythe and Edwin,” she insisted, smiling up at him. “I will take it from here. Thank you for your assistance.”

  It had been difficult for Audrey to fall asleep. For one thing, she kept secret from Molly her “engagement,” deciding that her sister and brother should hear news of it before a servant—even though Molly was far closer to her than any of the others.

  But she’d felt so fragile after Lord Knightsbridge’s “proposal,” she was worried she wouldn’t be able to keep the truth from Molly—that it wasn’t a real engagement. And that was something she had to hug to her heart as she played the part of a delighted bride. She couldn’t risk anyone finding out the truth.

  She’d waited to descend to the ground floor until Molly told her the shooting party had gone to the stables. Now, every step toward the dining room made her feel more and more apprehensive. Why do you care what your family thinks? They didn’t care about how their feelings of shame hurt her; they didn’t care if they kept her locked away forever, as long as she was useful to them.

  But they were her siblings, and she didn’t want to treat them as they’d treated her. It was her dearest wish—after her own independence—that she could heal her relationships with Blythe and Edwin.

  She entered the dining room and came to a stop.

  “Good mornin’, Mrs. Blake,” said the footman. “Yer chair is all ready for you.”

  “Good morning, Richard, and thank you. Is anyone else here?”

  There was an awkward silence. And then Richard said hesitantly, “Lord Collins is readin’ his newspaper, ma’am.”

  And he was so focused on his reading that he couldn’t hear a greeting? Not from her, anyway.

  “Good morning, Father,” she said, moving past his chair and into the one she usually used near Edwin’s end of the table.

  “Did you say yes to the earl?” he suddenly barked.

  Startled, she dropped her napkin. “I did.”

  At first, he didn’t answer. Her throat tightened, her eyes stung, and she felt like a fool. She hadn’t cried in so long; she wasn’t about to give her father the satisfaction.

  “I thought you’d learned your lesson,” he ground out. “This man has the power to treat you far worse than the first.”

  “I’ll be careful. Thank you for your concern.”

  He grunted his response.

  Well, what had she expected? She managed his entire household, and now she was leaving him. He had a housekeeper, of course, but he never wanted to deal with her. Now he’d have to—or Blythe would. That was the only reason he was angry.

  She was going to have her freedom at last, like any daughter would expect. That was what she’d wanted for so many years, even if it hurt others in her family.

  “Yer usual breakfast, Mrs. Blake?” Richard asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  He filled her plate from the buffet, then set it before her. She knew he’d placed everything where it belonged: eggs toward the north of the plate, toast to the east, the meat to the south—

  “Do we have bacon this morning, Richard?”

  “Pheasant, ma’am, from yer brother’s shootin’ party.”

  “Good, thank you.”

  “Don’t sound too pleased with yourself,” her father said. “You’re making a foolish mistake.”

  She cocked her head, and said dryly, “The pheasant is too gamy?” Had she thought herself past the worst of her father’s resistance?

  “That will be all, Richard,” Lord Collins barked.

  She heard the servant leave, closing the far door behind him. More footsteps approached from the front hall, mixed with Blythe’s chirping laughter and the deep voices of Edwin and Lord Knightsbridge. She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or frustrated at the interruption.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Blake, Lord Collins,” said Lord Knightsbridge, sounding excessively cheerful.

  “Good morning, my lord,” she said softly.

  Just hearing his voice made her think: Will we leave today? Will I finally start my own journey, my own life?

  Something slammed on to the table, and she jerked.

  “You are doing a terrible thing, Knightsbridge,” said her father.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This wasn’t the way to explain the news to her brother and sister.

  “Father, what are you talking about?” Blythe asked, sounding both nervous and good-natured, an interesting balancing act. “Lord Knightsbridge is our guest.”

  “A guest who takes advantage of innocent women—”

  “Father!” Audrey interrupted. “Nothing underhanded has happened. Lord Knightsbridge and I—”

  “—are engaged to be married.” This time it was the earl’s turn to interrupt.

  She could imagine their shocked expressions. Blythe’s gasp was piercing in the sudden silence. Audrey would have revealed their news another way, explained they’d come to an understanding . . . oh, what would have been the point?

  But it bothered her th
at she’d told Lord Knightsbridge she wanted to handle the announcement, and he’d either forgotten—or ignored her.

  “I—I—” Blythe stuttered.

  Audrey could hear the shrillness in her tone, knew she was so angry as to be near tears. Blythe would think that once again, blind Audrey had captured a husband—her second—and Blythe had none.

  “Sit down before you fall over, Blythe,” their father said with exasperation.

  “C-congratulations, my lord,” Blythe stuttered.

  “Thank you, Miss Collins.”

  “No congratulations are necessary,” Lord Collins said. “I don’t approve of this engagement.”

  “Audrey is an adult, Father,” Edwin said impassively. “She doesn’t need your permission.”

  Audrey’s mouth almost dropped open. Was her brother actually on her side? Did he at last understand she’d been trapped like a wounded bird all these years—or did he just want to be rid of the embarrassment of her?

  “But . . . you barely know each other,” Blythe said in a soft voice.

  Audrey was impressed by how hard her sister was working to control herself. She truly hadn’t wanted Blythe to be hurt.

  “It feels as if we’ve known each other much longer,” Lord Knightsbridge said.

  He took her hand, and she had to struggle not to show her surprise. She hadn’t realized he’d come close, so lost in her thoughts she wasn’t listening well.

  And his hand was bare, and so was hers, his skin warm, callused across the palm. It felt so different from her own, so . . . male. She was putting herself in those hands, trusting them. And Blythe was right—she barely knew Lord Knightsbridge.

  “I have never conversed so easily with a woman,” the earl continued.

  His voice was low and smooth as a caress. Audrey could only imagine how it would feel if he were really using the power of that voice to woo her.

  “I felt Mrs. Blake understood me, and I understood her. I don’t see her blindness, I see everything she’s accomplished.”

  Lord Collins snorted. “I’ve told him she has no dowry but that little house, and he doesn’t care. That seems suspicious to me.”

  “How much more money does a person need?” Lord Knightsbridge asked.

  “Audrey, how do you feel about this?” Edwin said. “You’ve only known him two days.” He hesitated. “And as for your first marriage—”

  “Do you not think I’ve learned from that?” Audrey asked. “I know this is quick, but I’ve never felt this way before. And we will not rush the marriage. We will take our time, living in our own households.”

  “Oh, I had not realized,” Edwin said, sounding relieved. “Then you can change your mind.”

  “Of course I can,” Audrey said firmly. “I have learned hard lessons, dear brother. I won’t forget them. I’ll be sure, this time.”

  He was obviously trying to sound more lighthearted as he said, “Of course, he is a war hero. That must count for something.”

  “I am no hero,” Lord Knightsbridge said.

  Audrey was surprised at the cool tones of his voice, and it made her curious about this new “fiancé” of hers. No one spoke for a moment.

  “I—I have to pack for London,” Blythe suddenly blurted out.

  Her trip had been long planned, and Audrey had totally forgotten. She heard the hurrying tap of her slippers leave the room.

  Edwin sighed. “I should get to the hunting party.”

  “Eat something,” Audrey insisted. “You need your strength.”

  “You’ve always tried to take care of everyone, sister,” Edwin said slowly. “I guess it’s time for someone to take care of you.”

  Audrey bit her lip, then pushed her fork through her cold eggs, touched by the sentiment. But what she wanted to say was—it was time for her to take care of herself.

  She felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “I’ll remain with Mrs. Blake,” Lord Knightsbridge said from behind her.

  “No, my lord, you must enjoy your morning,” she insisted. “I have much packing to do.”

  He paused. “If you’re certain . . .”

  “I am.”

  She heard her father’s chair scrape back, and he stomped from the room without speaking. Would he come up with a plan to keep her here, some way to drive off the earl? Audrey felt a bit panicked, wondering how fast she could pack—and then realized Blythe was taking their only carriage to London. They would have to hire one in the village. She mentioned this to Lord Knightsbridge as he and Edwin ate a quick breakfast, and he promised he would see to it later in the morning.

  As the earl passed her, following Edwin toward the far door, he took her hand again and brought it to his mouth. “That didn’t go so badly, did it?” he whispered.

  He still hadn’t donned his gloves, and the soft press of his lips was almost shocking. She reminded herself that she was a widow, that she knew the ways of men.

  But one night of intimacy with a man who didn’t want her had not prepared her for the attentions of Lord Knightsbridge as he put on a show for her family.

  “We all survived the telling,” she murmured at last.

  She shivered as he touched her hair at her temple, then said his good-byes.

  She was alone, her hands shaking, her appetite gone. But she nibbled on some of the cold toast and tried to tell herself that it was done, that she could escape.

  But she wasn’t out the door yet.

  Chapter 6

  Although Robert was not in the mood to hunt, he could not risk alienating another member of the Collins family, so he walked the woods with Mr. Collins, even as the beaters ran before them to chase out the birds, rabbits, and foxes. He received cautious congratulations from the other young men, and he knew they considered him eccentric or just plain crazy. None of them understood that there was more to marriage than being able to look upon the average debutante for the rest of your life. The surface things faded, especially appearance. He’d seen war damage so many people, yet often, if they were lucky, they were still the same inside.

  He shook his head, bemused at his thoughts. He should take his own advice when it was time to find a real bride. What kind of woman that would be? He had no idea, but he should give himself at least a Season to figure it out.

  He certainly hadn’t gone without women all these years. British Society flourished in India, and although he’d stayed away from the eligible misses, there had always been an eager widow who appreciated his companionship when he was in Bombay.

  When the hunting was finished, he had his horse saddled and rode into the village to the blacksmith’s shop, where Mr. Collins had suggested he look for a carriage. One would be available on the morrow, so he resigned himself to another night under Lord Collins’s roof. Robert hoped his subtle threats had been enough to dissuade the baron from trying anything to stop their departure.

  Audrey’s room was a disaster, with clothes sorted into piles everywhere. Molly rushed about gleefully, escorting the footmen as they brought the trunks, talking nonstop until Audrey’s head spun.

  Molly had taken the news of the engagement with shock and then excitement. After all, Audrey was marrying a handsome earl. It was a fairy tale as far as the staff was concerned, and she had received several offers of congratulations from below the stairs as the morning went on. The housekeeper had actually dabbed at her wet eyes and whispered that it was time Audrey had her own household. Audrey had agreed, and gradually stopped worrying about what her father might do.

  Molly had happily decided to accompany Audrey, to “see the world,” she kept repeating, even though Buckinghamshire was only the next county. But Audrey felt the same way. She might not be able to “see” it like everyone else, but she had Molly to describe things, and she could experience the world her own way. After all, there were new sounds and smells, things that were very important to her. And she had Molly, for without her . . . Audrey hadn’t even considered what she would do if her faithful friend didn’t want to go.


  By midmorning, the first trunk was packed, and they were sorting through the “maybe” pile for her last trunk.

  Molly stopped speaking in mid-sentence, then said uncertainly, “Good morning, Miss Collins.”

  Surprised, Audrey turned, wishing she could read her sister’s expression. “What can I do for you, Blythe? Isn’t it strange that we’re both packing for a trip?” Oh, now she was babbling. Of course it was strange—Audrey was never allowed to go anywhere. And she certainly hadn’t intended to sound sarcastic.

  She smelled her sister’s jasmine perfume as the woman drew closer.

  “I think you’re making a terrible mistake.” Blythe’s voice trembled.

  Molly said, “I’ll just leave you two—”

  “No,” Blythe interrupted. “This won’t take long, and Molly, even you must agree with me. Audrey doesn’t know him. If she won’t listen to me, can’t you talk sense into her?”

  Molly didn’t answer, and Audrey thought it unfair to put her maid in the middle. “Blythe, I haven’t married him yet. I have time to change my mind.”

  “But he’s a stranger!”

  “Every person at dinner last night either knew who he was, or had heard of him. He’s not an unknown stranger, anyway. It’s not as if he could take me off somewhere. People know what’s happening between us.” Which was why Lord Knightsbridge had been right, that he couldn’t just escort her away. It would have caused not only talk, but alarm.

  Blythe still sounded tight with disappointment and anger, but was there also a touch of concern there? Audrey wanted to hope so, but she’d been disappointed so many times before.

  “Blythe, I wish . . .” Her words faded for a moment. “I wish this didn’t hurt you.”

  Blythe didn’t even attempt to deny it. “Well, it does. It’s just not fair.”