Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

L ucian arrived on Southbury’s doorstep at half ten the next day. If it hadn’t been the morning after the man’s wedding celebration, he would have come earlier. He’d had no intention of arriving too early, but he’d also been careful not to arrive too late, lest Southbury send a Bow Street Runner to track him down. He didn’t want Southbury to think he’d decided not to come and do the right thing, after all.

Of course, Lucian would do the right thing. He was a man of honor. But doing the right thing and liking it were two different things.

He’d got very little sleep last night. Turns out being forced into marriage would do that to a man. The irony that he’d been in the study contemplating how best to find a wife when one had thrust herself upon him was not lost on him.

Only it bothered him immensely that he hadn’t been the one to do the choosing. The only good thing about what had happened last night was that the Costner chit and her scheming mother had been called out for their lies. Lucian had already deduced that both Gemma and Mary had obviously conspired to find him alone and force a marriage on him. Apparently, Gemma had got there first. He could only be glad about that. He didn’t relish marriage to a schemer. But of the two, Gemma was clearly preferable to Mary. At least Gemma had a decent family. Southbury was a good man. Whereas Lady Costner had been only too quick and willing to lie. Lucian shuddered at the thought.

Of course, Gemma hadn’t told the truth merely to save him from marriage to Mary. She’d obviously told the truth to become a duchess herself, which must have been her plan all along. He’d deal with her later. First, he had to deal with her older brother.

After contemplating it last night, Lucian had realized he had certainly met Gemma Brooks before. But he’d never looked at her the way he looked at debutantes, young women he considered marrying. Gemma was merely the young sister of his friend, Southbury. A dark-haired, skinny moppet he barely remembered and certainly hadn’t been attracted to.

And frankly, to his infinite chagrin, he still wasn’t attracted to her. She was all arms and legs, far too thin with too-big eyes, a too-wide mouth, and absolutely no breasts to speak of. But her eyes, those obsidian eyes. They were compelling. And he remembered them from the last time they had met.

Last night, Lucian hadn’t been expecting to run into Southbury’s sister, who was now apparently old enough to be out in Society. And so he hadn’t even thought about the eyes. But now they were all he could think about. Those big, captivating eyes. He was going to marry the girl with those unfathomable eyes.

Just as soon as a marriage contract could be agreed upon.

Southbury was reasonable. He would ensure a decent contract was drawn up, and the whole thing would be put to rest sooner than later. It would all be done with an air of scandal about it, but his wouldn’t be the first ton marriage forged in scandal, and it would hardly be the last.

While Lucian had tossed and turned last night, there was one thing he couldn’t get out of his head. Why had Gemma come looking for him in the study, and why was her friend at the door laughing? Gemma had said some nonsense about a dare and had asked her friend if she remembered her promise. The whole thing had given Lucian the impression of a setup.

It reminded him of when he and his mates had first gone to Eton and the boys in the town had offered to take them hunting for snipe. Lucian had immediately felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and had ushered himself and his friends away from the group, but other young students hadn’t been so fortunate. They’d happily dug into their pockets for coins. Of course, no such animal as a snipe existed. And the town boys had merely taken their coins and laughed at them behind their backs. More little Eton fools to rob at the start of the new year. It was always the lot who didn’t have older siblings or cousins to inform them before they’d arrived.

The moment Lucian had seen the pinched-face girl standing in the corridor laughing, the hair on the back of his neck had stood up in much the same way, and Lucian never discounted his gut.

The two young women had been up to something together. And if Lucian didn’t mistake his guess, they’d been up to securing an offer of marriage from a duke. It made his stomach turn to think about it, but all the evidence was there. Not the least of which was that the sister of a duke—a young lady who, by all accounts, should know better—had shown up alone to a room she had clearly known he was in. After all, the first thing she’d said when she saw him was, “There you are.”

Lucian’s gut tightened. Apparently, his good friend Southbury had a younger sister who thought nothing of scheming to get her way. And while Gemma would obviously come with an impeccable family name and no doubt be in possession of a hefty dowry, Lucian had wanted to look for a wife who not only had those things but was also the type of woman he could trust. And one who was beautiful. Mama would roll over in her grave to know that he’d got himself trapped into marriage with a skinny slip of a girl who was only too willing to trap him.

At least Lucian was certain Southbury had nothing to do with his sister’s scheming. He’d given Lucian every chance to deny what had happened. It appeared the entire thing had been plotted by the two young ladies themselves.

Lucian needed more time to think it all over, of course. To decide how he would handle his new wife once they were wed, knowing how she’d schemed to force his hand. Once they were married, Gemma would belong to him as sure as any other item in his possession. He could send her off to the country alone if he chose. And frankly, he might do exactly that. God knew it would be a chore to bed her.

At the moment, however, there was only one thing to do. And that was to see to the marriage contract with Southbury. Lucian was a man of honor. After the gossip spread by Lady Cranberry last night, Lucian would not leave his friend’s sister to a life of scandal and derision.

He rapped hard on the glossy black door to Southbury’s town house. It was opened moments later by the butler. He greeted the man as he’d done dozens of times in the past when he’d come to pay a visit to his friend. Only today, he was here for an entirely different reason. One he’d never anticipated.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” the butler said, ushering him into the marble-covered foyer. “His Grace is in his study waiting for you.”

“I’ll bet he is,” Lucian muttered.

“Pardon me, Your Grace?” the butler replied.

“Nothing, Spaulding. No need to escort me. I know the way.”

Moments later, Lucian was rapping on the same study door he’d been trapped behind only hours before. He took a deep breath to steel himself for the discussion. Southbury was a reasonable man, but any man who believed his sister to have been compromised should be approached with caution.

“Come in,” came Southbury’s steady voice.

Hmm. He didn’t sound angry. Lucian slowly pushed the door open to see his friend sitting behind the large mahogany desk in front of the mullioned windows.

“Ah, Grovemont, there you are. Care for a drink?”

“It’s half ten,” Lucian pointed out, arching a brow.

“Yes, but given the subject matter, I daresay we could both use one.” Southbury chuckled.

Now that was logic with which Lucian could not argue. “Hand me a glass,” he told his friend.

Two hours later, the details of the marriage contract had been hashed out quite reasonably, and Griffin sat back in his seat and smiled at his old friend. Grovemont was going to marry Gemma. Griffin shook his head. It wasn’t a pairing he’d ever imagined. It wasn’t a pairing Grovemont had ever imagined either, he was certain of it.

Griffin knew from talking to Mama this morning that Gemma had been beside herself with guilt over what had happened last night. Apparently, she’d been trying to look out for the wallflowers again and had gone too far. Something about a dance and a dare. Gemma had always been too impetuous.

Grovemont was a good man, however, and he would make a fine husband for Gemma. Only Griffin couldn’t help feeling somewhat responsible for the whole turn of events. He hadn’t been too foxed to remember that Gemma had come asking him where Grovemont could be found last night. She’d said one of the wallflowers wanted to know and, of course, Griffin hadn’t guessed that she’d wanted to seek him out for some misguided attempt at keeping Lady Mary Costner from being a shrew. Nonetheless, Griffin telling Gemma where Grovemont had got off to caused him a certain amount of guilt. He should at least attempt to explain.

“I’m sorry this wasn’t what you’d planned,” Griffin said. “Of course, I believe Gemma will make an excellent wife, but I understand that you might not feel the same at the moment. I feel deuced awful about it because I fear I had some part in it.”

Grovemont’s head snapped up, a wary look in his eye. “How so?” His gaze narrowed on Griffin.

“Gemma came looking for me and asked where you were. I told her you were in the study.”

Grovemont’s brows shot up. “So she was looking for me last night?”

“Yes,” Griffin admitted. “She said a friend of hers was looking for you. I had no idea she intended to find you herself. Alone. She’s terribly impatient, I’m afraid. Though I do expect she’ll become less so when she’s older.”

“She wasn’t alone,” Grovemont informed him. “Lady Mary came soon after.”

“Ah,” Griffin trailed off. What else was left to say? At least he could take comfort in the fact that Grovemont would receive Gemma’s indecently large dowry. Not to mention he’d tossed in some property and a new curricle of his that Grovemont had his eye on. But still, it didn’t make up for the fact that Grovemont was being forced into this because of Gemma’s mistake. Griffin didn’t for one moment believe anything untoward had happened between Grovemont and his sister in the study last night. But theirs was a Society that was unforgiving of such things.

Honestly, Griffin couldn’t even imagine being forced into an unwanted marriage. There had only ever been one woman he wanted, and that was Meredith. He wouldn’t have been able to stand a life with anyone else. He could only hope Grovemont hadn’t been secretly pining for a specific lady all these years. If so, he was too much of a gentleman to mention it.

Grovemont slapped his knees and stood. “I suppose that’s it then.”

“Yes,” Griffin agreed. To play down any hint of scandal, they’d agreed to have the banns read over the next three weeks and the wedding would take place in a month’s time. It needed to happen quickly to quell the rumors, but a month would be plenty of time. Anything less would be unseemly. At least Mama had recent experience in planning weddings. She’d already assured Griffin this morning that she would be able to plan one quickly.

“I do hope the situation last night did not put a damper on your celebration,” Grovemont said politely.

Mighty decent of the man to say so. “Not at all.”

Gemma had been worried about that too. In fact, she’d sent Mama down to ensure the party had continued. And it had. Of course, Lady Costner and her pinched-face daughter had taken their leave almost immediately after the scene in the study. But for the most part, the celebration had continued, with Griffin and Meredith staying up far longer than his mother wanted them to. Of course, there had already been rumors flying around the ballroom that Grovemont was soon to wed Gemma, but the ball had continued into the wee hours of the night, long after he and Meredith had gone to bed.

Meredith had been nearly beside herself with worry for Gemma last night, of course. Griffin had finally managed to convince her that while he was also concerned, there was nothing more to be done about it on the night of their wedding ball. He’d argued that they might as well retire for the evening and do precisely what his mother wanted them to do—get to the business of producing the next heir to the Southbury dukedom.

Meredith had laughed and pointed out that she was already with child. A delightful bit of news she’d shared with him earlier in the day.

“What Mama doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Griffin had replied with a wicked grin before gathering his beloved wife in his arms and taking her directly to bed.

All in all, it had been a terribly entertaining evening. And Griffin had awoken in his darling Meredith’s arms, a place he’d never let her leave again for longer than the span of a day. He’d waited far too long to make her his, and he loved her without measure.

Which sparked his guilt again, reminding him of Grovemont and how Griffin’s family had just taken away his choice of a wife. Damn. Lucian was a good man to do the right thing.

Griffin strode around the desk and clapped Grovemont on the back. They walked together to the door. “It won’t be long now before I shall call you brother.”

“Indeed,” was Grovemont’s stoic reply.

“Before you leave, would you like to speak with Gemma?” Griffin offered.

He almost added that she’d been up all night worried sick but decided against it. No man wanted to hear that his future wife was made ill at the prospect of marrying him. No matter what the circumstances of the betrothal had been.

“No,” Grovemont replied. “I shall have plenty of time to speak to Gemma at length soon enough.”