A Lady of Persuasion (7 page)

I did not love him as a wife should, but I cared for him—I
care
for him too much to see him trapped in a polite society marriage.”

“Trapped?” Bel’s teacup met its saucer with a loud crack. “Are you saying Sir Toby shouldn’t marry me? Am I not good enough for him?”

“No, that’s not it at all,” Sophia replied.

“Bel, he’s not good enough for you,” Gray said.

“I don’t mean to say that, either.” Sophia took a deep breath before continuing. “Bel, Toby will make some lady a fine husband. And you are everything he could dream of in a wife. Together, I daresay you could be very happy indeed—if you loved one another.”

“She’s not in love with the man.” Gray’s knife clattered to his plate. “She only met him last night.” He muttered an oath.

Bel cringed.
Love
. It seemed there was no escaping that word lately. Her brothers, Sophia …

they all exhorted that she must marry for love. As if by saying this, they granted her some grand indulgence, a gift any young lady would be delighted to receive. But to Bel, this insistence on a love match presented an unwelcome obstacle. “I don’t wish to marry for love.

Not romantic love, at any rate.”

“Whyever not?” Sophia asked.

She hedged. It seemed impolite, and most likely in effective, to decry romantic love to two people so thoroughly steeped in it. Her parents had married for love, as had both of her brothers. Of the three matches, two had ended in desolation and the third—successful as it appeared thus far—was just a few months old. She avoided love for the same reason she eschewed spirits: she’d witnessed, firsthand, the ravages of both.

“I have so many plans, so much work to do,” she said. Striving for a diplomatic tone, she added, “And I’ve noticed love has a way of altering a person’s priorities.”

“As well it should, if the thing’s done right,” Gray said.

Sophia touched her wrist. “Of course you could not be in love with Toby so soon. But deep in your heart, if you search, do you detect some inclination to affection? Could you grow to love him, with time?”

I hope not
. Bel pushed back from the table and stood. “Sophia, please understand. I am delighted that you and my brother have found one another. I know you mean to be kind. But I do not wish to marry for love; and I would ask you to consider that perhaps Sir Toby feels the same. Otherwise, why did he propose to you?”

Sophia made a subtle wince. Bel’s was overt. Those were the most uncharitable words she’d ever spoken to her sister. Perhaps the most uncharitable words she’d spoken to anyone. But here she’d resolved to embrace this engagement with optimism, and Sophia seemed determined to ruin it all—first with her revelations, then her stack of scandal sheets, and now this questioning.

“Please,” Bel said, sinking back into her chair, “I know you mean well, but Dolly …” She turned to her brother, knowing he was powerless to deny her anything when she employed a soft tone and his pet name from their youth. “Dolly, you promised I might marry whom I choose. I choose to marry Sir Toby.”

“For God’s sake, why?”

“For … several reasons.”

Not because she desired him, or because she’d allowed him to kiss her on the terrace.

Truly, that wasn’t it at all. It wasn’t.

“I want a marriage that will place me in the public notice and make me a lady of influence.” She gestured toward the stacked copies of
The Prattler
. “Sir Toby is perfect. All London takes an interest his exploits, he will soon serve in the House of Commons, and by Sophia’s own account he is a fine man.”

“Toby told you he would be serving in Parliament?” Sophia asked.

“Yes. Did he never mention it to you?”

“No.” She looked stunned.

Gray studied Bel for a moment, then put a hand to his temple. “Bel, it’s not that I—”

The sound of the doorbell interrupted them.

“That must be him.” Bel stood up again. Blood rushed to her head. Goodness, she’d been up and down so many times, she might as well have been in church. “Do I look well enough?”

She smoothed her hands over the skirt of her best day dress, a pale blue muslin frock trimmed with ivory lace.

“Bel, you are stunning, as always. You’ll take his breath away.” Ignoring Gray’s harrumph, Sophia took one bite of her toast and then set it aside. “Shall I come with you to greet him?”

“No,” Gray said in a tone of finality. “Bel, kindly go up to the nursery and ask Joss to meet me in my study. If Sir Toby Aldridge wants a glimpse of either of the breathtaking beauties in this house, he’ll have to get through me.”

“Sir Benedict.” Upon entering Grayson’s study, Toby made a courteous bow.

His gesture was not reciprocated. The brute narrowed his eyes at him. “Let’s not waste time pretending to like one another.”

Toby straightened and set his jaw. “Fine with me.”

“And call me Gray.” Gray indicated a chair as he rounded the desk to settle in his own.

“Everyone does, even my enemies.”

Toby smiled as he smoothed his trousers and took his seat. “Isabel doesn’t. She calls you Dolly.”

Instantly, the tension in the room leapt to a new plateau. Gray’s narrowed eyes became slits.

Then he leaned back in his chair and gave Toby a cold smile. “I’ve been curious to meet you, Sir Toby Aldridge.”

“And I, you.
Gray.”

“It’s an interesting position I’m in.” Gray ran a fingertip along the edge of his blotter. “I wonder if you can appreciate it. Here before me sits the man who let a remarkable, beautiful woman slip through his fingers last December. I revile you for that idiocy; yet I must also thank you for it. Your mistake was my good fortune.”

“My discretion is your good fortune.”

Their gazes locked.

“Yes,” Gray finally said, “I’m aware of that. But just when I am determined that I must push aside my extreme loathing for an otherwise contemptible ass and express some gratitude”—he suddenly shot to his feet and strode to the window—“the contemptible ass manages to seduce my baby sister.”

“Now see here,” Toby said coolly. “You may have all the contempt for me you wish, but there is only one seducer in this room. You’re the blackguard who absconded with my intended bride. At least I’m here offering for Isabel properly. Honorably. Do you seriously expect me to grovel and plead for the dubious pleasure of becoming your brother?”

Gray turned from the window. “I already have a brother. I don’t need another.”

“Well, then one wonders why you are bringing your sister out. It would prove difficult to marry Isabel off without acquiring one.” Toby ran a hand through his hair. “Can a man get a drink in this house?”

“A drink? Before noon?” Gray crossed to the bar and uncorked a bottle. “Well, there’s one point in your favor.” He handed Toby a snifter of brandy and started pouring another for himself. “The papers have a lot to say about you.”

“They have a lot to say about you, too,” Toby said, thinking of the exalted praise England’s newest knight had enjoyed over past weeks. “I know better than to believe them. You’re quite the hero, Gray. Tell me, while you were braving fire, storm, sharks, and smugglers to rescue that boatload of helpless kittens and schoolgirls … was it a two-headed sea serpent you wrestled into submission? Or did it have three heads?”

“Four,” Gray said coolly. “Well then, let’s get to the heart of the matter, shall we? May I assume you know how I rebuilt my family’s fortune and amassed the generous dowry you would waltz away with in the course of an evening?”

“Privateering, I understand.”

“Yes, privateering. Sanctioned piracy. I’m a respectable shipping merchant now, but I’ve years of cheating, stealing, and bloodshed in my past. I don’t like violence, but I’m not above it. I sank ships and spilled men’s blood, all so my brother might have a profession and Bel could marry well. We may be of different mothers, but we are all Graysons, all family.” Gray drained his brandy and sent the glass clattering to his desk. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Toby with an intense glare. “Family is everything to me. If you hurt my sister, I will gleefully kill you.”

Toby paused. He had no doubt in his mind that Gray meant that threat. Not only meant it, but would make good on it, even if doing so sent him to the gallows and they ended up sharing a hackney to hell. “Fortunately for my neck and yours, I’ve no intention of hurting Isabel,” he said smoothly. “I’m going to marry her.”

Gray shook his head. “At most, you’re engaged to her. Engagements can be broken.”

Oh no, he didn’t. Not again. Toby would be damned if he’d let this man break up his second betrothal. “Listen, what’s done is done. You wanted to make a public scene at Kendall House last night, and you got your wish. Now your sister and I are quite publicly engaged. There’s no way to undo it without tarnishing her reputation. Not to mention, disappointing her hopes.”

Gray regarded him closely. “Are you certain? You seem rather invested in bachelorhood, by all accounts. You wouldn’t be interested in a nice, long holiday on the Continent instead? A thousand pounds can buy a fellow rather warm hospitality.”

Toby stared at him. “You’re attempting to bribe me. With a bit of gold and a few Parisian
gelettes
as inducement. For God’s sake, man, I’ve a vast estate in Surrey and an income of six thousand a year. Your ‘offer’ insults us both. Does your sister know what a cheap price you place on her happiness?”

“There is no price I would not pay for Bel’s happiness. I’ve made achieving her happiness my life’s work.”

“Well, now I’ll be taking over that job.” Toby smiled and relaxed in his chair. He was enjoying watching Gray sweat. He’d been just a youth when his own sisters married, but he’d already been the man of the family—and he remembered well the helpless ire that accompanied surrendering one’s sister to a stranger. Gray had his empathy, but not his mercy. “You’re clearly not up to the task. If your sister were happy in her current situation, why would she jump to marry the first gentleman to pay her a bit of attention? She was miserable at that ball last night, until I put a smile on her face. I know how to keep a lady happy.”

“Really?” Gray smirked. “I don’t think my wife would agree.”

Oh, now that was a low blow. And a damaging one. Toby’s arrogance took a sizeable dent. It still plagued him late at night, the ceaseless speculation. He’d treated Sophia with solicitude, patience, and, of course, copious charm. What could he have done to push her away, and into the arms of this rogue? She had not even received him today, in her own home.

Gray continued, “Bel is not like other young ladies.”

“Yes, well. I had noticed that.” All thoughts of Sophia were instantly banished. He thought instead of Isabel’s exotic beauty and her melodic accent, and the bold innocence of her kiss.

The kiss that hummed in his blood, even now …

“That’s not what I mean.” Gray skewered him with a look, as though he read Toby’s thoughts.

“Bel’s grown up sheltered from society, but she’s been a witness to misery no lady should ever see. Our father succumbed to drink and her mother to madness, while—”

“Wait just a minute. Her mother went mad?” If he did want an excuse to back out of this, Toby had just been handed one. Few gentlemen sought a bride with a family history of insanity.

“Not how you’re thinking. When Bel was a girl, her mother was stricken with a tropical fever.

She survived—barely—but her mind was never the same. Bel grew up essentially alone, once my brother and I were out on the sea. Her faith sustained her. She’s strong in spirit, but filled with naïve, fragile hopes … and very high expectations.”

“You don’t think I can meet them.”

“Damn right, I don’t.” Gray resumed his seat. “However, for the sake of humoring my sister and preserving her reputation, I’ve decided to let you try. But I warn you—if at any point during the engagement, Bel seems anything less than enraptured with the prospect of marrying you, I’ll call the wedding off immediately.”

His words gave Toby pause, as he recalled the lengths he’d gone to just to elicit those few smiles. Now he would have an “enraptured” bride, or no bride at all? He wasn’t sure he liked those odds. Isabel Grayson did not seem a lady inclined to romantic raptures—she’d only agreed to marry him for his influence. “If you’ve such a low opinion of me, why are granting your consent at all?”

“Make no mistake, I think you’re an ass, and it eats away at my gut, just to imagine calling you brother. But I’d take no pleasure in seeing you fail at betrothal again.” Gray scowled. It was the expression of a man wrestling his own humility. “Bel’s been disappointed with London, despite all our efforts to keep her entertained. Nothing amuses her. She’s so damned quiet, so serious. I’ve watched her frowning in silence through a dozen dinner parties and musicales.

But when she danced with you—and God, it kills me to say it—she looked happy. And then this morning, she spoke angry words to Sophia in your defense.” Gray shook his head. “I’ve never heard her speak angry words to anyone. Reproachful words, yes. Disappointed words, more often than I care to remember. But never angry ones.”

Toby couldn’t quite follow the gist of this argument. She was happy last night, angry this morning … “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, I think my sister’s built quite a fortress around her emotions. She’d call it morality; I’m inclined to call it fear. But what ever those walls are made of, for some unfathomable reason, you seem able to breach them. I’m saying, you managed to put a smile on her face last night.” He pinned Toby with a threatening look. “Keep it there.”