Scandalous Miss Brightwells [Book 1-4]

“Have you indeed?”

“I have. I spoke to him last night after he graciously corroborated his wife’s invitation that I spend a fortnight here. I told him that I believed you coveted the horse he’d given me and would endeavour to take or borrow it, but that I desired this not to happen under any circumstances for my own reasons. Perhaps he mistook my motivations for pique that you’d thrown me over so easily.”

For a moment, they glared at one another. “Well, that’s true enough, isn’t it?” he muttered. Then, he couldn’t help asking, of course, “And what is your proposal?”

“That you agree you will marry me if Devil’s Run wins the race you need him to win next Saturday. Then, of course, you will own him, since what is mine will be yours, legally, once we’re married, and as your wife, I can make no further stipulations regarding your property.”

He opened his mouth to let forth a no doubt angry rejoinder, but then closed it again, staring at her in some perplexity. “You wish to hold me to a marriage that I believe neither of us greatly desires. Certainly, not without the underpinnings of the wealth that might have made it tolerable. It is true; you are not without your attractions, Miss Montrose, but you would not be my first choice, with or without a fortune. I’m not sure such a straight talking and determined woman as yourself would suit me.”

“You’d prefer a shrinking violet you could bully and make cower?”

He stared at her. “That is what you think of me yet you wish to marry me? Your logic is beyond me, Miss Montrose.”

“You have access to Quamby House; your sisters-in-law move in the circles I would enjoy being part of, and I need a husband. I am twenty-five years old and time is running out for me. I know you must be in the market for a wife, otherwise you’d not have proposed.” She pushed her point when she saw him hesitate. “And there must be advantages to a marriage in which you were given licence to follow your other…interests?”

He shrugged as he continued to walk towards the stables. “As I said, Miss Montrose, you are far too direct for me.”

“Then I shall take Devil’s Run with me tonight and hide him.” Lord, where had that piece of bravado come from?

He halted and turned, and a slow smile curled one side of his mouth. “Don’t think you could get away with making such threats after we were married, Miss Montrose.” He chewed his lip. “But your talk has hit a nerve. Perhaps I would enjoy putting you in your place if I were to marry you. How would you like that?”

He said it as a dare, but Eliza merely shrugged. “I’m not sure how I would enjoy being subjugated by any man; that’s true. I only know that I want the trappings of comfort so greatly after living as a slave to my aunt that I’m prepared to swallow my pride to get what I want.”

“All right, you gift me Devil’s Run now, and if he wins next Saturday’s race, I’ll marry you.”

His response was so unexpected the blood rushed from her head, and his thuggish face swam before her eyes. “You’d really do that?”

“I want him enough to back up what I just implied—that I believe he can win me an inordinate amount of money. As for you, Miss Montrose, you’re not displeasing to the eye. I’ve warned you what’s in store for you, so not even the devilishly exasperating Lady Quamby can blame me for the hell I’ll no doubt put you through, but since you’re so insistent—desperate, of course, now you have nothing—I daresay having a diplomatic wife to smooth my path while letting me do as I wish will make life easier.”

It wasn’t often Eliza was struck dumb. He was actually acceding to her grand plans, and a great deal more simply than she’d expected. But was she making a mistake? Suddenly, she doubted herself. The only reason her heart was involved was because of the access he gave her to Jack. Mr Bramley had a cruel streak; it was true. If he ever discovered her connection to the boy he would punish them both.

Yet why should he? Eliza was discreet. She didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve. She was cautious. She could manage the situation.

Her mind strayed to the one great complication—Mr Patmore.

She wanted to marry him, and he wanted to marry her. In fact, she could imagine he might go to great lengths to dissuade her from marrying Mr Bramley. He’d never understand her real motivations and might imagine false ones.

Nervously, she twisted the ends of her shawl between her fingers. “A…private wedding, perhaps, Mr Bramley? After you’ve finished celebrating Devil’s Run’s success on the course?

He shrugged. “The legalities have already been attended to. The banns have been called, and I daresay the sooner I can enjoy my husbandly privileges the better.” He sent her a lascivious leer over his shoulder as he turned. “Devil’s Run will be mine, and you will have my name and my protection.” He laughed at this, as if he found it amusing while he kept walking, then stopped and turned to salute her. “Thank you, Miss Montrose. I daresay we’ll deal well enough together. We both want something from each other. It’s how the best bargains are struck. I’ve given you fair warning of what to expect, and in return, I’ll provide you with the comforts a man in my position is able to grant.

“I’ll arrange a private wedding in St Mary’s in the village at midnight next Saturday after the race is fairly won. The vicar will be feeling particularly amenable, and in truth, such a ceremony would be preferable to me also, than one that has my blasted cousins-in-law weeping and wailing and trying to persuade you to cry off.” He shook his head. “They didn’t take to you; you know that. Not when you first came here, but since you rescued their snotty brats, they and old Quamby can’t do enough for you. Reckon it could be useful having you around, m’dear.”

Eliza watched him leave, her heart heavy in her chest. What had she done? Why had she persisted? But the arrangement had been mutually agreed. She’d be living in residence in Quamby House within a week, and Jack would be in close proximity.

Wasn’t that all that mattered?

Chapter 13

It was excruciating having to face Mr Patmore in the drawing room that evening as the company–surprisingly subdued, Eliza thought—sipped sherry prior to going into dinner.

He was the first to arrive at her elbow to engage her in conversation, and she was aware of the interested glances from her hostesses. She was also aware of a heady acceleration of her heart rate, but that couldn’t be helped or pandered to. Until the race in a few days’ time, she had to keep her silence.

“You look very lovely this evening,” he remarked, his eyes taking in her newest and most flattering ensemble, a gold net gown with ruffles around the hem and upon the sleeves, complemented by feathers in her hair. Eliza had worked hard on this creation when she’d learned she’d be a guest of the Earl and Countess of Quamby. Little did she know how greatly the visit would change her life. “Lovelier than I’ve seen you,” he added. “And that’s saying something. Could there be some special reason your eyes look so bright and your cheeks so full of roses?”

/> Goodness! What was he suggesting? There was definitely speculation in his gaze, and she wondered if he were fishing for a response from her that might indicate she was ready to hear him speak his heart tonight.

Fingers of pain clutched at her. It would undo her to have such a beautiful man remind her that he couldn’t be hers. Oh, why had he made his thoughts on bastard children so abundantly clear to all and sundry the other night? Under different circumstances, she might have had the courage to marry him and take the risk he’d never find out about Jack. She might even have had the courage to confess all, making her a better woman than she knew herself to be.