A Lesson in Pride (2 page)

In a nutshell, she was Lady Alysanne Drake, formally Thomas. She'd been married just that morning to Franklin Drake, earl of Essex. The man was thirty years her senior and desperate for an heir. He had seven girls from two previous marriages. All but two of his daughters were unwed and still dependent. With their mothers both deceased, it was to be Alysanne's duty to raise the girls.

As distasteful as that was, there were worse things in the young girl's life. Her own father, Nigel Thomas, had all but sold her to Drake for a few thousand pounds. Only a desperate parent would put their own daughter into the protection of Drake. The man was infamous for his excesses and cruelty. It was bandied around town that he had killed his first two wives when no sons were produced. If there was one way for Ginny to describe the memories she'd received from Alysanne, it would be that Nigel was a desperate parent.

Alysanne's mother had died when she was but a toddler. Since then, the poor girl had never enjoyed any consistency. Her father, who was never employed in a profession, used his wits to make enough money to support Alysanne and her older brother, Robert. It was never enough, though, and left the family constantly moving from place to place. They had long ago exhausted any family or friends who would be willing to assist them. Instead, Nigel had taken the drastic step of selling her to the only peer who could overlook her lack of dowry and greedy family.

Nigel hadn't been stupid though. He had insisted that the marriage contract include a generous settlement-should Drake predecease his newest wife. Alysanne stood to inherit not only a lump sum of twenty thousand pounds, but an annual income of another five thousand. Ginny knew that she was set for life, and she would never have to touch the blob on the carpet in front of her.

A wave of disgust overcame Ginny, making her want to clutch her stomach to keep the contents of her meager dinner down. Yes, she was repulsed by the thought that her dead husband almost touched her, but it was far worse than that. Her mind flashed through so many images of her father's selfishness that she was left blinded by it. Ginny rocked slowly back and forth on the edge of the bed. It was a wonder that Alysanne was still a virgin. Nigel Thomas would have sold her as a prostitute to get what he wanted, a ticket to the easy life. Being a beauty, Nigel had discussed using his only daughter as a courtesan, milking men for jewelry and pocket money. When Drake came along, it was more than Alysanne's father could hope for.

Besides his lack of funds, Nigel always despised his lack of connections. Ginny played back orations from Alysanne's father about how he was the son of a baronet and deserved more than what life had handed him. Robert was much the same way, always looking for the easy way to everything. Alysanne learned early to keep her mouth shut if she hoped to escape the constant poverty of her life.

She had been an obedient girl, trying to secure her father's affections. Ginny, as an outsider, could see it for what it was. Her father had no more use for her than he would for a cocker spaniel. Her future had been mapped from the moment she left her mother's womb. She was a ticket to a better life. Not a better life for her, but for her father and her brother. The few thousand pounds in settlement that her father received would not last the year, she was sure.

Disturbed by the memories she'd been served, Ginny walked to the bell pull. She would summon a maid and have her grotesque husband carted off to wherever they took dead people in this time period. As her hand reached for the pull, she suddenly stopped. A feeling of dread came over her, making her pull her hand back as if she'd been reaching for a venomous snake.

Not that Ginny would have ever considered the ramifications of her husband dying on her wedding night, Alysanne knew exactly what there was to fear. Drake hadn't bedded her, therefore, the marriage was not consummated and could be annulled. If annulled, not only would Alysanne lose her inheritance, but her father would have to pay back the earnest money given to him to ensure the marriage. Accordingly, Alysanne would become a pariah of sorts in society, no longer marriageable. Ginny knew exactly what that would mean for Alysanne's life.

What was she going to do? She couldn't take her own virginity, could she?
No
, she thought, shaking her head. She needed help and there was only one person who could help her. Truthfully, there was only one person who would want to help her because he had as much to lose as she did. Ginny reached out, pulled the bell, and waited by the door.

When the small knock came, Ginny opened the door only a few inches, preventing the maid from seeing inside her room. It was the petite maid that Drake had assigned her when she moved her things in that morning.

“Maggie, can you do me a favor?” Ginny whispered through the door.

“Of course, my lady,” Maggie responded.

“Can you please fetch my father and have him come up?”

“But my lady, what of Lord Essex?” she asked, looking confused by her new employer's request.

“Oh,” Ginny startled. “He hasn't come in... yet. I mean, he still must be getting ready.” Smooth, Ginny, smooth.

Bobbing a quick curtsy, Maggie walked away from the door. Ginny closed and locked it in case Maggie came back and decided to just walk in. With her back to the door, Ginny released a heavy sigh. She didn't know what disappointed her more-the fact that she still hadn't made it back to her own body or that the body she did get was such a pathetic mess.

Chapter 2

Lord Grant Montgomery walked about the ballroom with his nose in the air. With every step he was left to wonder how he came to be at such a gathering. He knew, of course, that his purpose for being invited was because his friend's daughter was getting married. The only reason he could think why he'd accepted the invitation was because he wanted to see for himself if Nigel would truly give his only daughter away to Franklin Drake. It would appear that he could and did just that.

The friendship between the two men was a peculiar one. Nigel was a user, always soaking his every acquaintance for whatever he could get. The man was at least ten years his senior, but after a bad scrape in a posting inn, the two had formed a bond. It helped that Grant had very little from which Nigel could gain.

He was the second son to the duke of Bedford, which made him completely unnecessary at the moment. His older brother, Reginald, was married and procreating, just not the right kind of children. So far his brother had been saddled with three girls. If Grant's sister-in-law, Alexandra, finally produced a boy, Grant would be cut down to practically nothing. His father had always been generous with the older son and less so with his other child.

It left Grant in a precarious position. He had expensive tastes, always wanting the best of everything. Unfortunately, he had little means to pay for it. After factoring in his room and board, the man barely had enough to live on. Some months he was able to supplement his income with gambling, but others left him with nothing extra.

It took Nigel no time to realize that Grant, son of a duke or not, would not be his ticket to riches. No, Grant's use was only in his connections to the highest circles of society. Through those connections, Nigel had been able to scam a few peers with bogus investment opportunities. Grant never participated or cared if his contemporaries were pilfered. At least they had the funds to be swindled, which Grant could never claim.

Even without being the heir, Grant could not fully complain about his lot in life. Unlike his brother, Grant was born with an appealing face and personality. His chocolate brown hair was thick and full. His eyes were a startling blue that he could use to sway both débutantes and dowagers. His sharp cheekbones and strong chin left many a married woman panting at his heels. His older brother was stoic, balding, and weak-chinned, much like their father. Despite all that, Reginald was the one with all the money and future power.

Grant took advantage of what God had given him. He rarely slept alone. He was considered one of the premier rakes in London. His paramours were all wealthy widows or married women who had husbands who were too busy with their own infidelities to care about their wives. More often than not, he received expensive gifts from women that were pawned for extra money to finance his lifestyle after the affair was over.

Lord Hood had once called him a male courtesan. Grant didn't see it that way. Courtesans were kept at their benefactor's beck and call. Grant made his own rules. He could walk away at any time and never again darken any woman's doorstep unless he wanted it. He might accept gifts from women, but he was no woman's toy.

During his second pass around the room, Grant spotted Mrs. Dennis, a young, attractive, rich widow of a successful businessman. She had made overtures toward him in the past, but Grant hadn't been interested. At this gathering, the woman looked more appealing than she had before. There was the concern that she would be clingy, but without any other prospects, beggars couldn't be choosers. And with her wealth, she might make a suitable wife for him. One never knew.

As he made his way toward the lady, a finger tapped his shoulder. Turning in annoyance at being interrupted during his pursuit, Grant found young Robert Thomas standing behind him. Before he could utter an admonishment, his mouth closed at the look on the young man's face.

“Lord Montgomery, could you please come with me? My father desperately needs your assistance,” Robert whispered, careful to keep prying ears from overhearing.

“What is it?” Grant asked, voice perturbed but quiet.

“I cannot explain. Please follow me.” Robert turned and walked toward the nearest door.

Grant was annoyed, but he was also intrigued. What mess could Nigel have gotten himself into at his own daughter's wedding? If nothing else, Grant's curiosity got the best of him and he obediently followed Robert out of the room.

Chapter 3

The small knock on her door made her yelp in surprise. Ginny turned and asked, “Who is it?”

An exasperated voice answered her. “It is your father, Alysanne. Let me in.”

Ginny unlocked the door and came face to face with the horror that was Alysanne's father. Although she knew what he looked like based on her memories, she was still taken back by the man. He was a horrible father and a horrible person. Ginny would have kicked him in the groin if she didn't need his help.

Nigel Thomas walked in, followed closely by Robert.
Of course
, Ginny thought. The son was always right where his father was. Rolling her eyes, she allowed them passage, then quickly relocked the door. Both had turned to watch her, never noticing Drake on the floor.

“If you think to try and weasel out of this marriage now, my dear, allow me to dissuade you of the notion. You uttered the vows and now you must live up to them.”

Before Ginny could respond, Robert chimed in. “You know we need this Alysanne. You can live with a little discomfort to benefit your family.”

Nigel looked at his only son and said, “Look at her face, Robert. Like a scared rabbit caught in a snare.”

Robert chuckled and Ginny nearly exploded. In a harsh whisper, she said, “Will you two shut the hell up and look behind you.”

Nigel's eyes widened at his daughter's tone. Never had the girl raised her temper with him. Instead of responding to her impertinence, Nigel turned around and stared about the room. Turning back to his daughter, he asked, “What is this all about, Alysanne?”

Walking around the despicable man, Ginny moved toward her now-dead husband and pointed down. Nigel followed her arm and gasped when he finally saw the body of Franklin Drake.

“What have you done?” he asked in a breathy whisper, walking over to the man and feeling for a pulse. When he couldn't find any sign of life, he looked up at his daughter in dismay. “You will hang for this, Alysanne. How could you?”

Shaking her head, Ginny said, “I didn't do anything. He came in here and promptly fell over dead. I didn't kill him. His lifestyle did that for me.”

Rising from the floor, a gleam replaced the horror on Nigel's face. “You are a widow. You will receive a generous settlement. How fortuitous this is.”

Ginny waited to see if the man would rub his hands together like a classic movie villain. Her jaw dropped open, and she was unable to speak for a full minute. She hated even being in the same room with the man.

“Do you not see the problem?” she asked, purposefully leaving off calling him “Father” because the man didn't fit the description.

Shaking his head, Nigel responded, “There is no problem. I made sure that Drake was very generous in the settlement. We are to be rich.”

Ignoring his use of the word “we,” Ginny continued. “He hadn't bedded me yet. He never consummated the marriage. Drake's family will fight to have it annulled.” Not that Ginny would blame them, considering the family their patriarch had married into.

The gleam in Nigel's eyes died a bit. He turned his head to look at his son. The chit was correct. Drake's oldest daughter, Vivianne, had tried to convince her father not to marry Alysanne. Vivianne had made it perfectly clear that Alysanne's family were simply gold diggers and should be avoided. She was correct in her assessment, but Drake had been desperate. Dying without an heir would leave his earldom to a distant cousin whom Drake never felt was worthy.

Vivianne would demand proof of consummation, especially with her father dying on the wedding night. Nigel doubted that Vivianne wouldn't try to bring them all up on charges of murder. Shaking his head, Nigel put that away for now. His immediate issue was the fact that his daughter was still a virgin.