Chapter Three

"N o, no, no," the new baron said, shaking his head. Then, to Holly's surprise, he laughed before continuing his chant. "No. No, Mr. Armstrong. No."

"Unfortunately, yes," Mr. Armstrong said apologetically, pointing at a line on the paper that the new baron held. "You see? Right here. Lex loci celebrationis contractus . Now that first half is in reference to the common laws of marriage in England, but that last bit is in reference to the contract where it was signed. The sixth baron stood in as you during the wedding to Miss Holly Smyth. It was a proxy marriage."

"No," Gavin said again, even more firmly this time. It seemed the new baron was done with this jest. "No. In order for it to be a proxy marriage, both parties must be aware of it, and I was not. I never agreed to this."

"Neither did I," Holly said quickly, catching his eye. "I wouldn't have gone through with it if I knew."

"Are you sure?" Jasper said from the window. "You were willing to marry the baron just to pay off our debts—"

"Jasper!" Katrina nearly shouted as she turned around. "That's completely unfair and you know it!"

"That is not why John and I married. And I certainly wouldn't have condoned marrying a stranger who knew nothing about me," Holly said before realizing they were about to have an all-out family argument in front of strangers. With the suspicious glare the new baron gave her, it was clear that she needed to get a hold of the situation. "Jasper, Katrina, will you please leave so I might have a moment to speak with the baron and Mr. Armstrong privately?"

"But we have a right to know what's going on," Jasper said, coming forward.

"And I will inform you, just as soon as I have this mess settled. Now please, go."

Katrina stood dutifully and left the room while Jasper huffed loudly and stalked behind her. She would have to deal with her brother later, but for now, she had to fix this. Turning back to face the new baron, she gave him a proper look.

He was just her height, if not a hair taller, with hazel eyes and a square face, his jaw sharp and rather attractive in an indeterminable way. His shoulders were broad, giving the appearance of solid strength beneath his finely cut clothes. Though it was evident by his speech and posture that he had grown up within the peerage, there was something slightly different about him. Perhaps it was his seeming laissez-faire nature or the way he was calmly arguing with Mr. Armstrong about this marriage sham. Any other peer would be livid to arrive at his newly inherited home to find himself shackled to a spinster, but the new baron appeared more amused than irate, almost as if he didn't believe it was happening.

A faint scent of lemon and mint hovered about him, Holly noted as she stepped up to interrupt the two men.

"I'm not sure what John was thinking to have dreamt up such a ridiculous scheme," Holly said. "But I assure you I had no part in it."

The new baron opened his mouth but appeared to think better of it and closed it. He eyed her hesitantly, and she was sure he didn't believe her. Oddly, it irked her that this man didn't trust her, but why would he? They had never met before, and John had warned Holly that his nephew was contemplative and reserved, slow to accept anyone into his confidence.

Taking a small step forward, she brought her hands together, almost in a pleading way.

"I promise you, I had no idea what John's plan was."

His hazel eyes stared intently at her, and to her surprise and discomfort, she felt the slightest flutter in her chest. He was rather handsome, in a sweet sort of way. But she was sure it was simply the symmetry of his face that made her feel suddenly odd. Frowning slightly, she pulled back a fraction.

"Then may I ask you something?" he asked, his tone even as he addressed her. She nodded. "Why did you marry my uncle, when he was so close to death?"

Holly gave Mr. Armstrong a glance, wondering if she should continue. She had assumed he had already explained all this. Apparently not, however.

Taking a deep breath, she dropped her hands to her waist and spoke.

"John and I were very dear friends for the past several years. Ever since…" Holly nearly spoke about her mother's death and her failed engagement, but she simply shook her head and continued, not wishing to be pitied by a stranger. "He asked me to marry him several times over the years, becoming more persistent just these past twelve months. I knew he meant it to be a marriage of convenience and I understood his reasoning to do so, but I always refused until last month."

"Why did he want to marry you?"

Holly tried not to appear affected, even though it wasn't a terribly flattering question.

"John was aware of my family's misfortunes and wanted to help. But his charity was too akin to pity and I couldn't bear it. Until the last time he asked."

"What changed?"

Holly sighed, shifting uncomfortably beneath his questioning.

"He said it was his dying wish. I couldn't refuse that," she explained. The memory of her dear friend, lying on his back in his bed chambers, resurfaced in her mind. He had been so frail, and it had broken her heart when he begged her. "I could rarely deny him anything, really, but in his last days, his only concern was for my siblings and myself and I couldn't… I didn't want him to be cross with me." She sniffled, giving a half-hearted laugh. "It was a foolish reason, I suppose."

A wayward tear rolled down her cheek, and she was mortified to have exposed her emotions so blatantly. When a handkerchief appeared in her blurry vision, she glanced up and saw the concern in his hazel eyes. She took it and dabbed her cheeks quickly before handing it back to him.

"That makes sense enough," he said gently, tucking the handkerchief back into his pocket as he turned to Mr. Armstrong. "But I'm still confused about why he would set up a proxy marriage."

Holly faced the lawyer as well, who suddenly appeared slightly red beneath the collar of his shirt.

"I don't understand it either," she said. "John swore that as his widow, I would be entitled to certain protections. There was certainly no need to marry me to his nephew."

"Well, who knows why great men do anything?" Mr. Armstrong asked, a thin sheen of perspiration appearing at his hairline. "Now, on to finances. I believe the former baron promised to fully restore Felton Manor, buy back the manor's livestock, allot you an annual allowance of…" The lawyer scanned the paper in from of him. "…five thousand pounds—"

"Five thousand pounds yearly?" Lord Bairnsdale asked, his brow raised with surprise.

Mr. Armstrong nodded before continuing.

"—as well as finishing paying for Mr. Smyth's tuition to Eton, sponsoring Miss Smyth's season, and paying off the remainder of your family's debts. But as you are not a widow but rather currently the baroness, your access to the estate's accounts will be at the discretion of your husband."

The word husband hung in the air like a guillotine and the realization that she was now at the mercy of this man made Holly's head swirl. How could John have done this?

"Um," Holly started, feeling suddenly dizzy.

"But there are several items at Bairnsdale Terrace that he had wanted the baroness to have, exclusively," the lawyer continued. "The cat, for example."

"The what?" Lord Bairnsdale asked, frowning.

Ignoring the question, Mr. Armstrong went on. "But your uncle was very insistent that you retain his journals, my lord. He wished that you would read them once, and then destroy them. I was instructed to take them with me to London last time I was here, and I have placed them at Bairnsdale Terrace."

"Why would he want me to destroy them?"

But the lawyer didn't answer. Instead, he faced Holly.

"Have I covered all the points that were discussed with you in the original agreement, my lady?"

A bolt of shame coursed through her as the new baron watched her. Yes, John had promised her that Felton Manor would be restored. The roof had nearly collapsed last spring under the weight of an oak tree that had fallen on it, making the entire third floor uninhabitable. The stables had needed to be re-established for nearly a decade.

There were also her brother's increasing debts that Holly suspected were coming from his inexperience at the faro tables and the need to set her sister up for a remarkable season. Holly had thought all of this would be taken care of by John's estate, as he had promised, but now she was at a loss. She only wanted to restore Felton Manor and fund her sister's season. Then, once Katrina was married and Jasper was handed a viable, working farm to provide him an income, she could settle quietly somewhere, knowing that she had done her best to see that her siblings were leading happy, stable lives.

What she really wanted was to go back to her peaceful existence before her mother's death and before she assumed all the responsibilities that kept her awake at night. But that was an impossible wish. The best she could hope for was to find a way to live peacefully—and the only way she could do that was by relying on herself and herself alone.

She felt her cheeks warm beneath the heavy gaze of Lord Bairnsdale. She turned her attention to the lawyer.

"Yes, Mr. Armstrong."

"Yes indeed," the lawyer said. "And of course, as the baroness, you are entitled to a great deal more than you would be if you were merely a widow."

Holly's eyes widened. Was that why John had arranged a proxy marriage? So that she had more justification to use his coffers? Had he not trusted his nephew to take care of her and to follow through on the promises John had made?

A long sigh sounded beside her.

"Ah," Lord Bairnsdale said. "I see."

Facing the gentleman, she saw a shadow pass over his face.

"Do you?" she asked.

"My uncle didn't believe that I would honor his wishes and therefore decided to set a trap for me. Very clever." He exhaled slowly. "Very well. He wins. I'll honor all his promises to Miss Smyth here. Now how do we get out of this, Mr. Armstrong?"

"Um, well…" he started nervously. "You don't."

"Surely there must be something, Mr. Armstrong," Holly said. "John wouldn't destine the both of us to a life of… of…" She shook her head, unable to say a word. "You must do something."

"I'm afraid the contract is ironclad."

"It can't be annulled? Neither of us were aware of John's plan."

"No, it appears you weren't. And that alone might get you out of the marriage contract set forth by the laws of England, but I must remind you, you were married by a Catholic priest."

"What difference does that make?" Holly asked, unfamiliar with Catholic customs. She had been raised in the Church of England. In fact, she had been somewhat surprised to learn that not only was John Catholic, but he was one of only a handful of peers whose ancestors had been able to retain their title and religion from the English civil war. "I'm sure there are annulments in the Catholic church."

"There are, but they take a long time and must be granted by the pope himself," Mr. Armstrong said, standing up. "However, I will do my best to see what can be done."

"And in the meantime?" Lord Bairnsdale said.

"In the meantime," Mr. Armstrong replied, shaking his head. "I suppose you may pretend that you aren't married."

Holly scowled.

"That's it? Pretend like we aren't married?"

"Yes. I'll send word as soon as I figure out what can be done, but I really must be off. London business waits for no man. Good day," he said with a stiff bow before exiting the room, leaving Holly alone with her husband.

Husband . What an absurd thing John had done. What would have possessed him to do such an asinine thing as to marry her to his nephew, a man Holly knew next to nothing about?

Feeling as though she had to defend herself, Holly spoke.

"I know that this isn't exactly what you were expecting upon your arrival."

He glanced at her.

"What do you suppose I was expecting?"

"Well, whatever it was you were expecting, I'm sure it wasn't a wi—"

"A wife?"

She smiled painfully at him.

"There's no need to use that word. We are not married and therefore not husband and… that," she said, unable to speak it. "But I assure you that you will find nothing but a helping hand where I am concerned when it comes to resolving the matter. I don't want any part of this."

His stare turned intent. "So you agree with Mr. Armstrong? That we should just… continue on, pretending like you're a widow and I'm unattached?"

"I don't see why not. Everyone in the neighborhood believes that I married John. If we keep the truth a secret and keep our distance, everyone will continue believing that I'm merely a widow," she said. "My siblings and I will return to Felton Manor at once and—"

"I thought Armstrong said it needed to be restored?"

She hesitated.

"It does, but we have taken refuge on the first floor."

Lord Bairnsdale frowned.

"Refuge? Is it unsafe?"

"No," she lied. "It's perfectly fine."

He stepped towards her, his hands behind his back, and Holly inhaled. The cool scent of lemon and mint filled her senses once more, yet she could swear he smelled sweet. For the briefest of moments, she felt a vibration go through the center of her body as if she was physically reacting to his scent.

"I should like to see it."

Holly swallowed, unsure.

"Excuse me?"

"I should like to see your home. This Felton Manor."

She frowned.

"No, that won't be necessary."

"But I insist."

His hazel eyes sparked with challenge, and Holly felt torn. She felt an unwanted wave of warmth come over her at the concern she heard behind his words—but at the same time, she felt the unprecedented need to put him in his place, far away from her.

She folded her arms across her chest and tilted her head. She would explore that warm feeling later. For now, better to put it out of her mind.

"No."

A tension snapped and sizzled between them, and Holly had to concentrate very hard on her breathing to focus. His eyes squinted slightly, and he began to walk around her, causing her to spin around to keep him in view.

"Then you will have the neighbors believe that I turned out my uncle's week-old widow the moment I arrived at Kingston House?" he asked. "They'll think I'm some sort of devil."

She shrugged.

"People may think what they like."

"About me, you mean."

Holly stared at him.

"What else might we do? I certainly cannot live here."

"Why not?"

"Because it's improper."

He laughed.

"How so? We're married. Husband and wife."

Holly balked. Not only at the idea of remaining at Kingston House but the use of that word. Wife . Had he lost his mind? How could they get an annulment quietly and efficiently if he went around talking like that? They were alone at the moment, but what if a servant overheard?

"I would ask that you keep that to yourself. We aren't telling anyone about this," she said forcefully. "And I am not your w-wife."

He tipped his head to the side, walking behind the settee. She turned again to compensate.

"Well, technically you are."

"What do you want, Lord Bairnsdale?"

He shrugged.

"To inspect your house."

"I already told you, it's fine."

"And yet, I don't believe you."

"Well, perhaps you should trust people more."

"You are not people, Lady Bairnsdale ." The use of that title made her uncomfortable. She swallowed again. "You are someone who I don't trust in the least."

His honesty unnerved her, but she couldn't deny his reasoning. She didn't trust him either, even if John had believed him a suitable husband for her. Oh, what had John been thinking?

"That may be, but I will have you know something. I won't be bullied into doing as you say simply because a piece of paper states that you should have some sort of power over me. Do you understand?"

He clicked his tongue, and Holly inhaled a waft of lemony mint again.

"Of course," he said, and she exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The tense pain in her shoulders throbbed as she nodded at him, turning to leave the room when he softly added, "…my lady."

The inflection in his voice caused her to pause momentarily, but she recovered quickly and continued out the door into the hallway.

Heaven help her.