Stephen wanted love in a marriage. Not duty and half-truths. It seemed he had been far off the mark with Lady Odette, but if Elizabeth thought herself in love with Mr.Fennington, there could be no hope for their future at all.
Later that evening Elizabeth was too exhausted to eat. She went to her room, changed, and hopped straight into bed. Pulling the covers over herself, she wondered if Lord Stephen had left for London. He had looked so ridiculously handsome standing outside Lady Odette's door she thought she would swoon. But he was not there for her. He was there over concern for Odette.
Something deep in her heart began to ache. Would anybody ever care for her and come to her door when she was ill? She wondered if Mr. Fennington would take her limp hand in his, not leaving her side until she regained her strength.
Warm brown eyes dotted with gold suddenly popped into her head. Her throat tightened with dread. Lord Stephen only pitied her. "Well good riddance. I hate him."
"You do?"
Elizabeth jerked upward. "Millicent Harriet, what are you doing hiding behind those curtains? I have not set eyes on you since you delivered that lotion for Lady Odette."
Milli inched forward. "Did she ... did she die?"
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes on her sister's shaking hands. "Of course she did not die."
"Truly, or are you just humoring me?"
"Milli, what did you do?"
"Oh!" Milli fell onto the bed, her hands to her face. "Death is but a flight into another world where time stops and then begins again. Death be gone and never come again to this precious world—"
"Milli!" Elizabeth was too tired to attend to her sister's theatrics.
Milli raised her head. "You are humoring me, dearest. She did die. I knew it! I killed her! Will they hang me? Will she have flowers on her grave? Will Father be mad?"
Elizabeth slipped out of bed and lit a lone candle from the embers in the fire. Pulling her sister off her bed, she took Milli by the shoulders and gently shook her.
"Tell me, Millicent."
"He made me do it."
"He? He made you do what?"
"Put the cherries in her drink."
"You put the cherries in Lady Odette's hot chocolate?"
Milli kept her face to the floor. "H-he made me."
Trying to keep her anger at bay, Elizabeth combed Milli's hair with her hand. What type of blackguard would have a girl do his dirty work? Odette might have asked for much while staying at Harmstead Hall, but she did not deserve this. "Who, dear?"
"Lord Stephen Clearbrook."
Elizabeth's hand dropped to her side like a lead ball. "His lordship?"
Milli nodded again.
Elizabeth saw red. The wretch! Just because the odious lady snuffed Lord Stephen's advances, he decided to take his revenge in the meanest, most despicable way. How dare he stand by that door and ask her if she needed any help! This only solidified her plans to reunite with Mr. Fennington.
"You must never listen to that man again. Promise me."
Milli raised her eyes in confusion and frowned. "But—"
"No." Elizabeth did not wait for an answer. All she saw was how perfect Lord Stephen appeared with his simple cravat and perfectly fitting breeches and wide strong shoulders.
How perfection could be so deceiving!
For a man to save Wellington's life one day and do such a dastardly deed the next was inconceivable. Did he think by hurting Odette he would move up in her estimation?
Oh, she didn't know what to believe. But she would not be fooled. No, she would make her plans accordingly.
And to think that she was going to apologize for spraying him with the ink. She had never attacked a person before in her life, but that man brought out the worst in her. She must not let this marriage take place.
Chapter Seven
Stephen was back in London sitting at White's, caressing a glass of untouched brandy as he explained his situation to his brothers.
"You what?" the Duke of Elbourne shouted.
Stephen set his glass down and pressed his fingers to his eyes. "Thunderation, keep it down. These are not intricate military plans I am explaining to you, Roderick. I lost the blasted hand and now it seems I am engaged to Miss Elizabeth Shelby of Portsmouth. Her family should be arriving tomorrow to stay at your townhouse." He lifted his head, letting out a twisted smile. "Hope you don't mind, your dukeness."
"Don't mind?" Roderick snapped, throwing a hand through his blue-black hair.
His brother Clayton grabbed Stephen by the arm. "Have you gone mad? You cannot marry a girl you don't know."
"How kind of you to give me such wonderful information," Stephen said, knowing that even though Clayton was two years his senior, it did not signify in the least. "Why did I not think of that before? The size of your peabrain never ceases to amaze me. Must be those violet blue eyes of yours, all beauty and no brains."
Clayton's lips thinned. "I would not be speaking of brains at a time like this."
"Ask me if I am surprised," Marcus said, downing a glass of port. "Because I'm not."
Scowling, Stephen spun the glass between his thumb and forefinger. By Jove, only a year younger than Roderick, Marcus looked like the duke with his dark hair and gray eyes, and he was acting just as pompously.
"You have been gambling for high stakes the past three years, little brother," Marcus went on. "Drinking too."
Stephen looked away. Unfortunately, Marcus was correct. The past three years, since he had the argument with his father that had sent the duke galloping through the fields and falling off his horse to his death, he had been drinking to excess.
The drinking had not ceased when he returned from Waterloo. Memories had haunted him of that day he stabbed the Frenchie and the dying man fell into his arms, asking him to pray for his two motherless baby sons who were now without a family to fend for them. Hell, yes, the past three years had been too long indeed.
But had those years of guilt been long enough to wash away the pain? Had they been long enough to forget the way he had lashed out at his father for the man's treatment of the duchess and then had his father died because of it? Had those years seen enough gambling and drinking to turn his life around?
Lord help him, he didn't know any more.
"Stephen, Marcus asked you a question." Roderick cuffed his brother on the shoulder, obviously annoyed at the entire situation. "Can this idiotic engagement be withdrawn?"
Stephen shook his head. "I was without the required payment at the time. It was cash on the table. I knew it. Shelby knew it. I fear the man had already chosen me to be his daughter's husband. I had already fallen into the trap before I knew what was happening. He wanted a titled gentleman."
Clayton smiled and leaned down to look his brother in the eye. "No offense, dear brother, but you are only the fourth son of a duke. Shelby should have chosen dear Roderick here if he wanted a grand title. Why, the Duke of Elbourne is as pompous as they get. Except for Prinny, that is."
Stephen's lips curled into a wry twist. "What a nice thing to say, especially since he is already married. It seems Marcus and you would have been better prizes."
Clayton frowned. "I daresay. Let's not get any ideas."
"You cannot be serious about this," Roderick said to Stephen.
"Serious? I am deadly serious. There is naught for me to do about it. If the announcement did not make it into the papers today, it will be there tomorrow. I shan't jilt the girl now."
"Oh ho." Clayton slapped a hand against the table. "So you have an eye for the silly female in question?"
Stephen shot him an icy glare. "She may be headstrong, but she is not silly."
Roderick began to smile. "Is she as pretty as her father?"
Clayton and Marcus let out a snort of laughter.
"I hope not," Clayton uttered. "Does she have any teeth?"
Marcus laughed again.
Stephen's grip on his glass tightened. He wished he had not said a thing to his brothers. "I will
not discuss Miss Shelby, and if you know what is good for you, neither will you."
The brothers closed their mouths and narrowed their eyes.
"Can we buy this fellow off?" Roderick asked grimly.
Stephen shook his head, recalling the set of innocent blue eyes that had glared at him with such contempt in the library. He remembered the tears earlier that day. But it was that steadfast gaze staring back at him last night, when Miss Shelby was caring for Lady Odette that pierced his soul.
Miss Shelby was a sensitive creature, with more heart than most women he knew. He could not humiliate her. Not now. Not ever.
"Money will not win Shelby over. He is determined to see his daughter married to a lord. Can you believe Fennington has been hounding her?"
Roderick raised a stem brow. "Not that idiot!"
"Does he still carry that infernal quizzing glass?" Marcus asked, his eyes narrowing. "What an abomination."
Stephen nodded. "Afraid so."
He did not tell them his fiancée thought herself in love with the fool or that she had made plans to run away to Gretna Green with him.
"Then it seems unless a miracle happens, our poor brother here is to be wed as soon as that special license becomes available."
Stephen ground his teeth at Clayton's remark. Miracles were things he did not believe in these days, at least for him.
William Shelby's coach rolled steadily along the country road on its way to the Elbourne townhouse in Mayfair. Elizabeth stared out the window, her temper still in full boil after Milli's remark concerning Lord Stephen and the cherry juice the girl had poured into Odette's chocolate.
"That was very kind of you to care for Lady Odette, my dear," her father announced.
William Shelby had been trying to gain her attention for the last half hour, but Elizabeth was so mad at him she could spit. She finally looked at him, knowing Milli was asleep, bundled in the blanket beside her.
"How could you continue this charade with ... with that man?" she whispered in a raw tone.
She really wanted to say, How could you make me marry a man who would intentionally make another woman ill by throwing cherry juice in her drink? How could you make me marry a man when I want another? How could you ruin my life?
Shelby shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Now, Lizzie, you cannot stay angry with me for the rest of your life."
She stiffened and shifted her gaze to the window. They were coming into London. "Then do not make me marry this man."
William Shelby sighed and folded his hands across his lap. "This is for the best, poppet. He is a good man."
"Good man? He is a bounder and a cad You have no idea what kind of man he is."
Milli peeked out from beneath her blanket and frowned.
"My Egypt is so ill, I fear I may die as well."
Stephen's mother, now Lady Bringston, a duchess who had married a marquess, glanced up at the youngest of her four sons. Her violet eyes pooled with tears as she sat in the drawing room of the Elbourne townhouse holding her fluffy white feline to her breast. "You know, one would think it was ... but oh, no, it could not be. There are no male cats on our estates. Besides, Egypt stays inside."
Barely glancing at his mother or even hearing her words, Stephen paced the room, raising a hand to smooth the knot of muscles in his neck. His thoughts were on the Shelbys.
"I do wish Bringston were here. He would know what to do."
"What was that, Mother?" What in the world was she talking about? Was she crying over Bringston?
"Nothing, dear."
Stephen walked into the hall, then back into the drawing room. Roderick and his wife had prior engagements and had gone out for the day, but the duke had given Stephen strict orders to stay at the townhouse to await his unwanted guests—otherwise the guests would not be staying.
"I am so happy you have found someone to spend the rest of your life with, dear. I own I was worried about that gambling habit of yours."
Stephen peered out the window. "Yes, well my games of high stakes are behind me."
And so is my life, he thought grimly. His mother was delighted to discover he was finally marrying. The lady had no idea he had been bamboozled into the wedding.
"I fear I must look like something Egypt brought in from the garden," the lady said. “I should freshen up a bit. If your guests arrive before I return, you can have them shown to their rooms. And don't forget, Lord Stonebridge and your sister will be arriving soon."
Stephen had discovered only late last night that his sister would be staying at the duke's home too, though she would be confined to the house. The doctor had said her pains were coming too early for the baby to be delivered. Fearing for his wife's health, Stonebridge had insisted on moving her into the Elbourne townhouse so she would be in better company when the baby arrived.
Stephen turned suddenly at the sound of dragging feet and a loud sniff. "Mother, are you ill?"
The lady had neared the door. She shook her head and gave a sob. "It's ... my poor... Egypt." Clutching the cat, she hastened from the room.
With a pang, Stephen realized his mother was worried about Egypt's condition, and the idiot that he was, he hadn't been listening to anything she had said in the last half hour unless it had pertained to him.
To his dismay, he was stopped from running after her by the butler's announcement of the arrival of William Shelby and his family. Not a minute later his sister arrived and the introductions were made.
Stephen thought Elizabeth Shelby looked pale and worn. She showed all outward signs of his innermost feelings.
As soon as the guests were shown to their bedchambers, he went in search of his mother but to no avail. An hour later the Shelbys rejoined him in the drawing room.
"Lord Stephen," Shelby said, his eyes taking in the room, "the duke has a fine home here. Not as grand as the one I have in Bath, but fine indeed. I am looking for a house here in London near St. James. Actually two. Would you know of any?"
A muscle ticked on the side of Stephen's jaw and he refrained from answering. Two townhouses directly beside each other, he thought. That would be the day when he let his father-in-law live next door!
Out of the corner of his eye, Stephen watched Elizabeth's face grow taut as she walked toward the bay window looking onto the street. She was as embarrassed as he at her father's words. But she carried herself with such an inner grace it touched him. It also intrigued him that she had just met his sister, and yet, the two had been talking to each other like the best of friends.
Unfortunately, Emily had already retired to her chambers for a rest. Lord Stonebridge was nowhere to be found as well. He was probably hovering over Emily, treating her as if she were as fragile as the blue china cup Shelby was holding.
That left Stephen as the sole person to receive and entertain the three Shelbys.
"Oh, Papa," Milli said, frowning. "I would like to return to my bedchambers. I do feel a headache coming on." Her body instantly went limp and she fell on top of the sofa with a plop.
Concerned, Stephen shot from his seat. "Is she ill? Should I fetch a doctor?" He turned when he heard muffled laughter coming from the other side of the room. "You find your sister's ill health funny, Miss Shelby?"
Blue eyes twinkled back at him. "Oh no, my lord."
"But I do have a headache," Milli said, sitting up. "A horrid one."
"Very well, dear," Shelby said as Stephen pulled the bell cord. "Follow the servant to your chambers."
Milli obviously sighed with relief when the maid immediately entered. The girl departed from the room, almost running. "It hurts something terribly. Could be a bout of apoplexy!"
"Well," Shelby said, patting his belly and exchanging suggestive looks with his daughter and Stephen. "Must rest before the meal, you know."
He left before Elizabeth could say a word. She turned three shades of pink and dropped her gaze to the floor. "I am tired as well, my lord. If you would please excuse me."
Stephen came up b
ehind her and placed his hand on her arm. "I'm sorry you find yourself backed into a corner, Miss Shelby. If there is anything I could do—"
She turned around so fast it took him off guard. "Do? Are you playing some sort of hideous joke? Anything you could do? Have you not done enough? Why, poor Lady Odette suffered terribly after you left! Do you have any kind of conscience at all?"
Stephen stiffened, mystified at her outburst. Was this little wren standing up for the vulture that had clawed her heart out at breakfast the other day? Lady Odette was a sly female, and he, for one, was glad he had discovered the truth in time.
"I do believe the lady in question will mend."
"Oh, I cannot believe you would do that to her!"
Stephen blinked. What kind of thanks was this when he had pulled her out of a disagreeable situation that morning? He had all but worshipped at Miss Shelby's feet, and she was throwing it back at him as if he were nothing.
"She offended you, madam. My future wife. How could I not?"
Shocked, he watched her face turn a deep shade of purple. "I will never marry you. Never!"
Stephen's stunned gaze followed her backside as she swept from the room.
"Well, well, what have we here?"
Milli came to a dead stop. She had been dancing in the ballroom by herself, pretending she was a beautiful ballerina when the most handsome man appeared before her like a prince in a fairy tale. "Who are you?"
"Your servant, Lord Marcus Clearbrook, mademoiselle. And you?"
"Miss Millicent Shelby."
His black brows lifted. "Ah, Miss Shelby. Your sister is going to marry my brother, is she not?"
There was something hard in his voice that set Milli's teeth on edge. "Elizabeth is very pretty."
"Indeed."
"And very smart."
"Indeed."
"And very rich!"
His eyes darkened. "Indeed," he drawled.
"Oh, you think I am a child, but I'm not. I'm fourteen and going to be fifteen next month."
His lips curved into a mischievous grin. "Indeed. Well, little ballerina, when you are out, may I ask you for a dance?"
The Wagered Bride (The Clearbrooks) Page 10
