Chapter Thirty-Two

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

One Hour Later, Hyde Park

G emma tilted back her head, closed her eyes, and clutched the crown of her bright-yellow bonnet as Grovemont’s well-sprung curricle jostled its way through Hyde Park. She breathed in deeply, taking in the lovely scent of the late summer flowers and grass in the park. It was always so much better here than on the streets in town. And the park was the best of both worlds. The countryside itself was far too remote and dull, but she did love to be outdoors. Even having Grovemont by her side would not dim her happiness this afternoon.

She had to admit he looked good today. But then again, he always looked good. He was wearing simple dark-brown buckskin breeches, black boots, a white shirt, and a sapphire waistcoat and overcoat. His white cravat stood in stark relief to the tan he’d acquired in India, and his hooded blue eyes and sharp jawline were as captivating as ever. Why did the man have to look like the devil had carved him out of stone to tempt ladies everywhere? It was truly unfair. And just another reason why he couldn’t possibly believe she hadn’t tried to trap him into marriage. A man as handsome as Grovemont had probably been born with women fighting over him. But she was only too willing to toss him back into the pond. Another woman was welcome to catch him.

She may have agreed to this outing, but she had no intention of speaking to him. At least not the silly little pleasantries they’d exchanged over the last week. It had all been so obviously false. She refused to pretend as if they were happy. He might want to act as if they were something they were not, but she had no interest in it. Instead, she settled into her seat and watched as chipmunks chased each other through the meadow. He would have to speak first.

They’d trotted about for the better part of an hour before Grovemont pulled the curricle onto a dirt road near the Serpentine. Hmm. This seemed too private. She watched him from the corner of her eye. He appeared to be entirely nonplussed, shaking out the reins and issuing commands to the finely matched pair of horses pulling the conveyance. She’d had to grudgingly admit the man was an excellent driver. A rubbish husband, but good with horses. Too bad for him she wasn’t a horse.

When they reached the water’s edge, he stopped the curricle and leaped to the grass. Oh, dear. Was this it? Did he want to talk now? Fine. But she refused to speak of anything other than when they’d get their divorce.

He bounded around the side of the curricle and offered her his hand.

“I’m fine. I don’t need your help,” she said as she gathered her sunny skirts and jumped to the grass.

Grovemont stepped back and shook his head. “I can see that.”

“Not the way you think a duchess should behave?” she sniped. Ugh. She’d let him goad her into saying something ill-mannered. She needed to remain completely unaffected by him. Indifference!

“Behave however you like,” was his even reply.

Gemma merely side-eyed him again. Of course, he didn’t mean that.

They walked slowly together toward a large chestnut tree and once under its shady branches, Gemma turned sharply to her husband. “Why did you bring me here?” She couldn’t help herself. She could no longer stand the suspense.

He chuckled. “Not enjoying the park?”

“Oh, I’m enjoying the park. It’s the company I find lacking.” Oh, drat. She could not stop.

“Ouch.” He put a hand over his heart.

Gemma turned away from him so he couldn’t see the frustration on her face. Why couldn’t she seem to control herself around this man? She took a deep breath and shook her head, ready to try again to be civil. She turned back to him, hoping her face was a composed mask of indifference. “You could save us both a lot of time by just coming out with what you’re up to.”

One of his dark-blond brows shot up. “What I’m up to?”

She lifted her chin. She would not allow him to make her doubt her sanity. “I think we both know you haven’t suddenly begun enjoying rides in the park with me.”

“You’re suspicious of my motives.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. And a correct one at that.

She blinked at him. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

Grovemont tilted his head to the side and contemplated her. “I like that about you, Gemma. You’re forthright.”

Oh, that was it. Using her Christian name? Giving her a compliment? Too much. She rolled her eyes. “Flattering me is a waste of your breath.”

He shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “Fine. Then allow me to get directly to the point.”

She straightened both of her shoulders, preparing herself for the inevitable impact of his words. “Please do.”

“I am willing to grant you your divorce,” he said simply.

Her head snapped to the side to stare at him in wonder. What was that? Had she heard him incorrectly? She must have.

“I said I’m willing to grant the divorce,” he repeated as if reading her thoughts.

She narrowed her eyes to slits and plunked her hands onto her hips. “And?” She drew out the word slowly.

He scratched his jaw. “And what?”

“And what is the condition upon which you will grant it?” She blinked at him, glaring as if she still didn’t believe what he’d said. Because she didn’t.

He chuckled and bit his lip. “That obvious, am I?”

“Out with it,” she demanded.

Grovemont removed his hat and scrubbed his hand through his unfairly thick hair before replacing the hat. “Fine. I will grant you your divorce in two months’ time if…you spend that time with me pretending to be happily married.”

Of all the things she thought the man had been about to say, that had certainly not been one of them. Now she knew she was hearing things. That or perhaps her ears weren’t working correctly. “Pardon?” was all she could muster.

“I’m asking you to spend the next eight weeks pretending to be happily married to me.”

Was it her imagination or did he look worried, vulnerable even? As if he was concerned she would refuse. She pressed her palm to her forehead. A hundred questions flew through her mind. Where to begin? “Pretending? Why would you want that?”

He folded his arms behind his back and nodded once. “I have my own reasons.”

“Your own reasons?” she echoed. What in heaven’s name did that mean?

“Yes. And I’d like to keep them private…for now.”

Her brows shot up. “I bet you would,” she mumbled.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.” She gave him a beatific smile. “But I don’t think?—”

He didn’t let her finish. “If you agree to pretend that we’re happily married, I will not only grant the divorce at the end of the two months. I will also provide you with a hefty settlement of, say, fifty-thousand pounds?”

First, Gemma gasped. Then she struggled to breathe. Fifty-thousand pounds was twice as much as her extremely generous dowry. It was a fortune. And Grovemont knew that. Why would he offer her such a sum? And with nothing more than having to pretend to like him for two months? It was unorthodox, strange perhaps. It might even make her stomach revolt, but it was certainly worth fifty-thousand pounds and an uncontested divorce . Still. She didn’t trust him. Not one whit.

She straightened her shoulders and glared at him. “What is the catch?”

“Catch?” He blinked at her innocently.

“Yes, what precisely will be involved with my ‘pretending’ to be happy?”

He leaned back against the tree trunk and drew up one knee to rest the flat of his boot against the bark. “I’ve been thinking about that.”

“And?” she prodded.

“You must agree to go places with me, dance, laugh, drink, have fun. In short, we will carry on as if we are a happily married couple.”

More narrowed eyes. “What would you get out of such an arrangement?”

“I will get your company and the good graces of my wife, if for a short period of time.”

She swiveled on her heel and began marching back to the curricle. “No. You’re lying. The answer is no.”

Moments later, he came flying around her, laughing. “Why are you so suspicious?”

“Why would you ever think I wouldn’t be?” she shot back.

“Fine. I admit that I’m not telling you my entire reason, but I swear that I am not lying about wanting your company and to be in your good graces.”

“When will you tell me the rest of your reasoning?” she demanded.

“I can only say I hope it shall become obvious after we begin.”

Gemma crossed her arms over her chest once more. She drummed her fingertips near her elbows as she contemplated his words. It sounded too good to be true. Of course, it was too good to be true. On the other hand, what choice did she have? A divorce without his cooperation might not happen at all and fifty-thousand pounds was nothing to dismiss.

But there was one question burning a path through her brain. One that had to be settled immediately. “What about conjugal rights?”

More innocent blinking from Grovemont. “What about them?”

“Ugh.” She huffed. Did she have to say it so clearly? “Will you expect me to pretend to be happy…” She tugged uneasily at the neck of her pelisse and forced the two words from lips. “In bed?”

He cleared his throat and gave her a sly smile. “I hope you won’t be pretending.”

First, something about the look on his face made heat gather between her legs. Unwelcome heat. Unwanted heat. But undeniable heat.

Second, that was not the answer she’d expected. “What?” She wanted to stamp her foot on the grass. “You must be jesting. You honestly think we should share a bed? What if I become heavy with child?”

Lucian had been waiting for this argument. And he was fully prepared with his counter. “If we divorce after the two months have passed, I will have no hope of securing an heir. These eight weeks may be my last chance.”

She lifted her chin. Her eyes were dark slits. “That’s not true. You can remarry.”

“I won’t remarry,” he assured her.

She clenched her jaw and turned away from him. Clearly, this last bit was difficult for her to agree to. But it was non-negotiable. He could only await her answer.

“And if I don’t agree to this plan?” she finally asked.

“I will make it as difficult as humanly possible for you to divorce me,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice. Damn. That was his last card. He’d just dropped it on the proverbial table. He hoped this worked.

She strode away from him quickly and then nearly as quickly strode back. “While we are in bed, do you expect me to…participate?”

His grin was devilish. “Wholeheartedly.”

She sucked in her breath. “But what if I?—?”

“Look. Despite your claim that the marriage was not consummated, we both know it was. And we know that it was—ahem—enjoyable. Do you deny it?” He lifted his brows, challenging her.

She looked as if she wanted to slap him. But thankfully she said, “No. I don’t deny it.” He admired her for her honesty.

“Good, then we can agree that despite our failure to begin on the right foot as a married couple, we are compatible in bed. Which means we might as well enjoy ourselves while we’re there. I don’t want an unwilling wife. There is absolutely nothing attractive to me about forcing a woman.”

She tapped her fingertip on her jaw, alarm obvious in her eyes. “Wait a moment. You said, ‘if we divorce after the two months.’ Does that mean you are hoping?—?”

“That you’ll change your mind by the end of it? Yes. I am. I admit it.”

Gemma closed her eyes and sucked in a long, deep breath. When she finally opened her eyes again, she met his steady, inquiring gaze. “Why do you want this?” Her voice was strained, quiet.

Despite the nerves that jangled through him, Lucian forced his own voice to remain perfectly calm. She would be suspicious of anything but the unvarnished truth spoken plainly. He owed her that. “Because I realize I made a grave mistake in judging you, and I want another chance.”

The tiniest gasp flew from her lips. She stared at him as if he’d just descended from a cloud. An unknown being she’d never seen before. Clearly, she didn’t believe him. “Another chance at what?”

“Influencing your opinion of me.” He pulled off his hat and turned it around and around in his hands. Damn. He was nervous again.

She lifted her nose in the air. “It could not be worse.”

“Which is why I have nothing but hope.” More hat turning. He bit the inside of his cheek. She had to agree to this. She had to.

She dropped her gaze to the grass. “ If I agree to this, I will still want to leave at the end of the eight weeks. Do not fool yourself.”

He nodded slowly. “If you still want to leave, I will abide by your wishes.”

Her hands moved back to her hips and she lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes bright with determination. “I want all of this in writing.”

His crack of laughter bounced off the nearby trees. “I’m sure you do.” He cleared his throat, forcing himself to calm down. She was going to say yes. Thank God . Relief poured through him. “I will have my solicitor draw it up. He’s quite discreet. Which reminds me of another stipulation. No one else can know about this besides us.”

Her brows shot up. “No one?”

“No one.”

Her chin lifted once more. “And if I am with child by the end of the time period and still want to leave?”

“You may raise the lad until the age of, say, eight, and then he’ll come live with me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course, you think it’ll be a boy.”

“If it’s a girl, you may raise her if you prefer, but I will want to visit from time to time. To know her.”

She shook her head incredulously. “You’re saying all of this as if it will be easy to give up a child.”

He met her gaze and held it. “Gemma, I hope we’ll raise our children together .” He did his best to infuse sincerity into his words, to keep his gaze locked with hers.

She turned her head away, breaking their eye contact. “You’re mad. You know that?”

Success was within his grasp. He could feel it. He was thankful for it. “Do we have an agreement?”

She swallowed hard, the thin column of her throat working . Say yes, Gemma. Say yes .

Gemma expelled a shaking breath. This was madness. Nothing but. Only she didn’t have much of a choice. Sticking it out eight weeks and then insisting upon the divorce was the best way to get what she wanted. The alternative was unthinkable. She took another very deep breath. This is what it felt like to make a deal with the devil. She knew it in her bones. “Yes, we have an agreement.”

A wide smile spread across his too-handsome face. “Good, then I’ll have the papers drawn up immediately.”