Chapter 9

W hen Aaron arrived home, he saw Nathaniel's carriage with the Greystoke crest. Evidently Serena had come to pay a call on Aunt.

The elderly butler opened the door before Aaron reached the top step. Aunt liked the older gentleman whose years had outgrown his duties. To please her, Aaron allowed the man to keep his post. His duties consisted of answering the door and no more. Unless it was to sit with Penelope at teatime and listen to the gossip of the ton. The man was most likely hard of hearing, so he shouldn't mind as much as Aaron or Nathaniel.

Only a slight hike of the old man's brow alerted Aaron that something was up.

"Good day, sire. His lordship is in the drawing room with Lady Blackburn."

So, his brother had accompanied his wife.

"Very well."

Aaron mentally went over his schedule. No, they did not have an appointment today. With a smile on his face, he strode to the drawing room, eager to greet his sister-in-law. It was a boon in his cap, putting a scowl on Nathaniel's face, when he sweet-talked Serena as though he were a rogue after her affection.

"Where is my favorite lady in all of London?" he called out as he stepped through the doors.

He came to a halt. Serena sat on a settee beside his aunt, with another lady in the chair at her side. The woman looked up, a glare on her beautiful face.

Good God. What was she doing here?

"Aaron," Aunt called smartly, bringing him to heel. "We have a guest."

His first reaction was to shout at their guest , then throw her out. But with the glare his aunt shot him, decorum was required at the moment. He needed to be on his best behavior. Aunt would have nothing less.

Sasha must have heard his voice and lumbered to his side. The dog gave him comfort, and the distraction he needed to calm his ire.

"I need to speak to you about your dog."

Aaron hiked a brow.

"Not Sasha. The Black."

"Am I being taken to task, Aunt Penelope?"

"That is a debate for another time. Please, come in and join us for tea."

Aaron sauntered in, holding the newcomer's gaze. "There's no need to introduce us, Aunt. The lady and I have already met."

Nathaniel coughed into his hand.

What the devil was going on here? And how had Nathaniel gotten involved? And Serena?

"Hello, Aaron," Serena said in a soothing voice. He supposed she was the buffer for this situation.

Bloody hell.

He gave a pat to Sasha, and then stepped to his sister-in-law.

"Forgive my bad manners, Serena. It is good to see you." He took her gloved hand and paced a kiss on the back. "Is there a party and someone forgot to invite me?"

"I will forgive your bad manners, if you collect them and greet your guest, Miss Hayes."

What else was he to do?

"Good afternoon, Miss Hayes." He gave a slight bow, holding her steely gaze.

"Good afternoon, Lord Greystoke."

"Ahh, I see no one has corrected that oversight?"

"Miss Hayes knows I'm the earl, Aaron."

"Then she also knows," he said, locking eyes with her again, "that I am a third son."

"There is no need for educating Miss Hayes on aristocracy, Aaron. Sit down, and join us for tea."

Dear Aunt.

Your wish is my command .

He strode to the hearth, signaled for Sasha to lie down, then took the seat farthest from their guest . She hung her head, looking at her hands carefully folded in her lap. He wondered how she managed to be so calm. He was ready to roar like an animal.

"Berthright, bring more tea," his aunt ordered.

"Yes, my lady."

"Have a lemon tart, Rebekah. Aaron has the best cook in London." His gaze jerked to Serena.

Rebekah, is it? She already has the family calling her by her given name?

"When did you arrive, Miss Hayes?"

Her eyes snapped to him.

"How did you find my home?"

Nathaniel answered for her. "I received correspondence from Miss Hayes. We were expecting her, brother."

Aaron glared at his brother. " You were expecting Miss Hayes?"

"Miss Hayes arrived at Greystoke Manor two days ago," Serena added. "Of course, I asked her to extend her stay. However, she was quite keen on seeing you."

"I'll bet." He didn't mean to speak out loud. A glare from his aunt made him realize she heard him. He shrugged.

He wanted to ask if it was before or after she found out Nathaniel was the heir. He didn't dare speak out of turn with Aunt sitting in the same room.

"Rebekah, you are welcome in our home."

His aunt was taking a lot for granted. Did she forget this was his house?

"To avoid any confusion, Miss Hayes, yes Aunt Penelope lives with me. This is her home. If she offers an invitation, you may be assured it is genuine."

When he got Miss Hayes alone, he would inform her exactly what he expected, and who was in charge.

"How kind of you for supporting your aunt. It is clear you are a close family."

Did he hear a note of sadness in her voice? What the bloody hell was she doing here?

From the corner of his eye, he saw Nathaniel's expression. His brother most likely wanted to throttle him. Why didn't Nathaniel notify him? Dammit, they had waylaid him. Thoughts ran rampant in his head as he listened to idle chit chat. He wanted answers. He wanted them now.

"Aunt, if you will forgive me," he said as he stood. "Miss Hayes and I need to have a private conversation." He turned to Rebekah. "Miss Hayes? Would you care to join me in the library?"

Her glare spoke volumes. "Of course, Honourable Greystoke."

Ah, she got it right that time.

"Miss Hayes, we will wait for you here. Then I will show you to your chamber where you can get settled before the supper hour," his aunt announced.

Assuming she was still here. He could just as well take Miss Hayes to an inn.

Nathaniel bumped his elbow. "Aaron. Mind your temper. I'll be right here."

"Miss Hayes, do not be alarmed. My family is protective of the female population. This way, if you please."

He stepped to the set of double doors, checked to see if she was following, then strode down the corridor to the library. "After you," he said, with a way of arm gesturing like any distinguished gentleman.

The click of the latch sounded like a cannon echoing in the dark room. Wooden shelves lined every wall. Good heavens, she'd never seen so many books.

Rebekah stood in awe, as the nerves shivered down her spine. She was facing the lion in the lion's den.

"Now, Miss Hayes. Would you care to tell me exactly why you are here, and how the devil you connected with my brother?"

Rebekah took a deep breath. "We left things unsettled between us."

He arched a brow over that glowering face. "Oh? You seemed to be in agreement over tearing up that contract."

Yes, well, he'd made her mad. The more she thought about his behavior, the madder she got. "I've changed my mind."

"Too late."

She'd expected him to be disagreeable. "I don't think so."

"What is it you do think, Miss Hayes?" He spoke so evenly, with no emotion.

"I've decided to make you honor that contract."

"Lord Greystoke is my brother. You've hooked the wrong Greystoke, madam. If it's a title you want, I'm not your man."

"You are nothing like your brother," she said, exasperated.

"Care to explain that?"

" He is kind."

A sharp snort escaped Aaron's mouth.

She gritted her teeth. "A title means nothing to me. However, your word does. You have gone back on your word. A promise you made in writing."

His eyes flashed. Still, he showed no anger. "Miss Hayes. Might I remind you that you refused me when I came to you. And now you say you have changed your mind."

The arrogant poop stood there as if he had all the time in the world. As if he had not shunned her, or the promise he'd made.

"I am going to hold you to your promise. You signed a contract. I am here to see you fulfill it." At least she sounded convincing—when underneath she was a bundle of nerves. Why had she set out on this path without thinking it through?

"You're mad."

"You think so? I have the backing of your brother, Lord Greystoke. Your aunt has also accepted me."

Take that.

"You discussed this with Aunt Penelope?"

"I had to explain my reason for showing up on your doorstep?" His brooding expression made her nervous, as if she wasn't already.

"How the bloody hell did you find me?"

She jumped at his outburst. "The Earl of Greystoke is well known. I didn't know he was your brother."

"I bet that took a feather from your bonnet."

She had not thought him so cruel. But this was the real Aaron Greystoke. "It was a shock. At first, I thought you'd given me a false name. But your brother knew. He knew about the contract."

"And he has a wife. Another stunner."

What was he hinting at?

She twisted her hands and prayed her legs would hold her up.

"Well, yes. However, they are good people. Lord Greystoke brought me to you."

Aaron shrugged. "What can I say. Brotherly love."

"You are disgraceful," she huffed.

"Why? Because I rejected you? Because my brother should have minded his own business? How do you suppose I should act? I didn't even know there was a bloody contract until your father wrote to Nathaniel."

This was not going according to plan. She should have known she was no match for the oversized, overbearing brute. "Your signature was on it."

"I believe, Miss Hayes, we've covered this ground before. We talked it out. I was under the impression we were in agreement."

She lifted her nose in the air the way she would expect a matron to do. "You owe me. You have ruined my good name."

His eyes changed from anger to predator. He slowly stepped toward her. She swallowed, forcing her feet not to run. When he was barely a breath from her, he lowered his head and stared into her eyes. "I will not marry you. Your journey here has been a waste of time."

Trying to rattle him was going to take more work. Hopefully his bark was worse than his bite. "I will simply tell your brother you took my virginity."

This time when his brow hiked, a muscle in his face twitched. Now she'd done it. He was furious. A moment later his expression calmed as if he'd gotten control of his anger.

"If you plan to use that line of blackmail, then I think I should make the threat true."

She gasped.

What?

He took a threatening step toward her. She held out a hand.

"Wait! What are you doing?"

"If I am to be labeled a scoundrel, then I want the experience. Claim my right, so to speak."

Good heavens, he was completely unpredictable. "You are …" She backed up a step.

"Yes?" He took another step, the way a predator would stalk his prey.

"No. Wait. Stop!"

He halted, but was still too darn close. Drat. He'd called her bluff.

"Quite a lot of courage you have going on there, but I believe the rabbit is scared. What do you expect from me? Marriage? Money?"

She'd meant to thwart him. Shame him. Scare him, as if that were possible. Embarrass him then. Show him she was not to be trifled with. Show the mighty Aaron Greystoke how it felt to be attacked in his own home.

"I give up." She stepped away, giving her pounding heart time to slow down. "I don't want to marry you."

"You should have thought about that before you came to London, and announced to anyone who would listen, that we are betrothed." He smirked.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Your sarcasm does not go unnoticed. Neither do you want to marry me."

He studied her for what seem like hours. "What is your real purpose for being here?" His deep voice penetrated under her skin, sending her nerves to race wildly down her back.

"Very well." She jerked her shoulders up and stiffened her spine. "You embarrassed me." There she'd said it. "You treated me as if I were dirt under your shoe."

His eyes lit with surprise. Had the fool not known how he had shamed her? He studied her for several moments more. She stared back and tried to keep her knees from shaking.

"Say what you have to say Lord Greystoke."

"How fickle you are. You don't want to marry me? Are you sure?"

"Quite sure." In for a penny … in for a pound. "I wanted to see you squirm."

The hateful man grinned. "Miss Hayes. I do not squirm."

He was large and muscled and … of course he didn't. Aaron looked like a man that could tackle anything and anyone, and come out the winner. She couldn't help but admire his strength, his handsomeness.

"You have won over my brother, my sister-in-law, and my aunt. That is no easy feat. If you think word has not spread of your arrival through the ton, you would be mistaken. New blood. No doubt, the hounds are already on your scent."

"What are you talking about?"

"Gossip. The ton. Rogues after the new mystery woman. And if you have declared your purpose for coming to London outside of this house …"

"What has that to do with anything?"

The blond adonis slowly shook his head from side to side. She remembered running her hands through his long hair. Holding him close as he kissed her neck …

She jerked the image from her mind. Her nerves were running amok as it was.

"It seems we are in a pickle, Miss Hayes. By coming here as you have, you've brought attention to our … plight. Now our private business is public knowledge."

Which had been her intention. Good. Let him writhe under the ton's watchful eye. See how he likes being the brunt of malicious blather.

"Do you understand what you have done, Miss Hayes?" He waited only a moment before he went on. "You have made the marriage contract public."

Satisfaction made her smile. He was worried about gossip. Not her. She would return to her small home and continue on with her quiet life. He could deal with the fall out. She crossed her arms and gave a smug look of her own.

"Then I suggest you find a way to silence the gossips."

"After you have set their tongues to wagging?"

"How does it feel to have the entire upper-crust judging you? Your precious reputation in tatters."

"I don't give a farthing about my reputation. And my name is Aaron. Since we are betrothed, I suggest you use it."

"We are not betrothed."

That eyebrow hiked again. "As far as the ton knows, we are."

"You just said you don't care what the ton thinks."

"Personally, I don't. However, the Greystoke name is in good standing. Aunt Penelope is a matriarch of the nobility. I will not put her in a position to be ridiculed."

Aunt Penelope. That kind, dear woman.

"Perhaps you should have considered that when you ostracized me."

"Good God, you do love drama." He chuckled. "You've missed your calling on the stage."

Fury burned in her stomach. If the man wasn't so tall, she'd smack him. She stomped her foot instead.

"Miss Hayes. Did you stomp your dainty foot? How unbecoming of a lady."

"You arrogant …"

"Ah, ah, ah," he said waving a finger. "You're a lady, remember?"

"I am not a social butterfly, nor am I a hypocrite. You have sparked my temper, lord—"

"Ah, ah, ah," That hateful finger flashed again.

Blast the man.

She counted to ten.

"I can see by your expression; you're counting in that pretty head of yours. Don't screw up your face so. You don't want to freeze that way."

Pretty?

Freeze!

She opened her mouth to shout. Scream at the injustice of it all.

Perhaps he was also trying to exasperate her. A trick.

"I will tell the truth."

"Out of the question. Your claim to be betrothed has already been heard. To tell the truth now would embroil us all in a scandal. My aunt is a matriarch of the ton. I will not allow anything to darken her reputation."

"What are you saying?"

"That your little plan has worked—or backfired. Which ever way you see it."

"It worked? You don't look rattled to me."

"On the contrary. You came here to ensnare a husband. Congratulations, Miss Hayes. You have succeeded."

Shock made her mouth drop open. She stared at him all of two seconds. "You are so devoted to the ton, you would marry a woman you don't want to avoid a scandal?"

"Devoted to my aunt. It is done among the aristocracy all the time. There are countless marriages performed quickly and quietly for that very reason."

"Well, not this one. I have no intention of marrying you."

"Yet you tracked me down in London to substantiate that very thing."

Rebekah fumed. What had she done?

"You see, Miss Hayes, we now have a very real problem." He paced to the hearth and leaned an elbow on the ledge. Silence filled the room for several minutes. Finally, he spoke. "I propose a marriage of convenience. After a reasonable amount of time, we can dissolve the vows, or if you are comfortable, we can go on. I will provide you a home, and arrange an allowance to care for your every need."

Her jaw dropped. Was he serious?

"It would also seem, Miss Hayes, I am calling your bluff. We will be married."

All she could do was stand there and shake her head. All the denial in the world would not get her out of this one. "To each other?"

He faced her. "Do you have a beau? Or a gentleman caller?"

"Of course not."

"Neither do I."

"You don't have a gentleman caller?"

"Sarcasm at this stage is wasted, Miss Hayes. And no, there is no lady I fancy. So, I think the best way to handle this situation—that you have put us in—is to move forward."

What? Had she heard him correctly?

"What if you decide later on you want to marry someone else?"

"You have no need to worry about that. As for you, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Queasiness crawled into her stomach. She might be violently ill. She did not want a husband. She was used to doing as she pleased. "Can you guarantee that I will not be under your control?"

"Husbands do have control over their wives, but I would allow you to do what you wished. Within reason, of course. No lovers. Nothing to create a scandal. After all, we will be marrying to prevent one. You may be your own charge. I will not expect you to share my bed."

She gasped. She had not considered that in the least.

"We can live separate lives, if you so choose. You will have servants to cover household duties. All you will need to do is enjoy your newfound wealth."

She dropped her arms to her sides, fisting her hands. "I do not want or need your money."

"I'm not saying you do. Being my wife will open doors and provide anything you might desire."

What was she to do? Things had gotten way out of her control. "You will not force me into this?"

"I am not in the habit of forcing women to do my will. However, given the circumstances …" he shrugged, "I believe this is the best course, Any concerns you have you may put in writing. I will agree."

"Another contract?" That's what had gotten her into this mess.

"You will end up better situated. And with funds of your own."

Good heavens. What had she done? The walls were closing in on her.

Papa pushing her, Aaron giving her a way out. Sort of. A marriage of convenience. Not a real marriage at all. Where she could live in security as a noble.

As her mother had.

As her mother chose to forego.

Was it really too late to back out?

"I will give you time to think on it, Miss Hayes. Shall we return to the drawing room, so my aunt knows I have not gobbled you up?"

Gobble. What a choice of words. At this moment, she felt like she had spent the night in a terrible storm. She was bruised and battered and needed to sleep. She supposed he meant the quip as doing his worst.

But the remark sent a tiny spark of yearning to her belly. Maybe he didn't remember, but she did. That night … it was as if he had gobbled her up. He had devoured her.

And she desperately wanted that again.