His Contract Bride (2 page)

“
It's honesty nearly all of the time.”

“
Well, then,
that
explains everything,” Regina said with conviction, an unstoppable smile spreading her lips. “He must have been having one of his less-than-honest moments when he said that.”

Edward gave what had to be an exaggerated sigh. “Alas, no. He says it often enough, if that were the case, he'd be practicing nevermore honesty.”

Regina shook her head. “Just so you know, I don't find you boring in the least.”

“
That's good.” The laughter that previously lit his eyes faded slightly, a serious glint taking its place. “That's actually very good, indeed.” He shifted on the bench and flickered a quick glance just beyond her left shoulder before meeting her eyes again. He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “May I talk to you about something important?”

Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs. “Important, you say?” She immediately coughed, then prayed he'd think her impending cough was the reason for the way her voice had squeaked.

“
Yes,” he said, his voice low and slightly uneven.

Excitement built up in Regina's chest. In less than a month, she'd have her come out and formally be allowed to be courted. Was he about to ask if he could court her when the time came? Although the ladies at the school had repeatedly told their students not to choose a gentleman suitor until they'd had a chance to meet all the eligible gentlemen, she was certain she'd agree immediately if he were to ask. There was just something about him. Something about the way he looked at her and spoke to her. The way they'd talked without hesitation—

“
Regina,” he said on a ragged breath. “I've really enjoyed spending the afternoon with you, and I think we—”

Whatever the rest of his sentence was, Regina would never know as it was drowned out by a loud and not-so-distant cry.

Regina’s and Edward's wide eyes locked, then no more than a split-second later, they were both to their feet and running in the direction from which they'd heard the cry—being led by the sound of loud sobs.

“
Sophie,” Regina gasped as her eyes landed on her sobbing roommate.

Sophie sat on the ground with her knees up and her forehead pressed against them. Her long dark hair was down, covered in twigs and leaves.

Heedless to her own appearance, Regina sank to her knees and wrapped her arms around her friend. “Sophie, what's happened?”

Sophie said something, but it was drowned out by her sobs.

Regina squeezed her tighter. “Sophie, what happened?” she repeated.

Sophie lifted her mud-covered face a little and said something, but once again her words were inaudible over her sobs.

Regina dropped her gaze to the front of Sophie's gown and gasped. Just like her face, the fabric was covered in mud and split right down the middle of her bodice, exposing a good portion of both of her breasts to the air.

Sophie, still sobbing uncontrollably, seemed to pay no mind to her state of undress and shook violently as the sobs continued to wrack her body.

Regina was still looking at her friend and trying to puzzle out exactly what had happened to her when suddenly something soft, but heavy, hit the outside of her hand. She turned her head and blinked.

Edward Banks, forever the ideal gentleman in her mind, was running, not walking, in the direction of the school to seek help—sans coat. It was at that moment she knew for certain he'd captured her heart and would hold it captive until the moment she took her last breath.

~Chapter One~

One Year Later

Regina closed her father's copy of
Debrett's
with a sharp snap.

It was no use. The Season would start in only a week, and she had no more desire to land a husband now than she’d had at her come out.

With a sigh, Regina set the book on a nearby table and pulled her knees up against her chest. She leaned her head forward, resting her forehead against her knees, then wrapped her arms around her legs and squeezed. She hated attending balls and musicales, and the longer it took her to find a husband, the more she'd have to attend.

“
Dreaming about him all the time won't make him reappear.” a familiar voice called.

The hair on the back of Regina's neck stood on end and she squeezed her eyes tighter, willing her wretched older brother, Tobias Harris, to go away. “Stop.”

“
Stop what?”

She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of answering that. “What are you doing here?” she asked, lifting her eyes to look at him.

Toby shrugged and pulled a flask of whiskey from his breast pocket. “Just came to see you.”

“
You mean annoy me?”

“
Watch your words, Regina.” Toby sat down in the Italian leather chair closest to her and propped his feet up on the settee right next to her.

She cringed at the sight of his filthy shoes, caked with dirt and grime from walking through the slums of London, so close to her freshly pressed morning dress and resisted the urge to push them away.

“
Still dreaming your prince—or should we say a gentleman who answers to the name of Edward Banks—will come and rescue you from another Season?”

Regina couldn't stop the heated blush that swept her face. “I should never have mentioned him.”

“
But you did.” He uncorked his flask and took a quick swig of his whiskey. He grimaced and recorked his flask before slipping it back into his pocket. “And now I get to remind you about him for all of eternity.” Reaching up to remove his powdered wig in one swift motion, he added, “It's my right as your older brother.”

He was right, of course. Had she been thinking with her brain and not her heart, she wouldn't have told the truth when her aunt asked her if there was anyone she'd set her cap on. Now it was too late, and she had to endure Toby's not-so-gentle teasing about the first gentleman she'd come to care for.

Regina put her stockinged feet back into her cream slippers. She wouldn't mind his teasing so much if not for the bit of truth that laced his words. She
did
still dream of him; and more than anything, she wanted him to swoop in and rescue her from having to endure another torturous Season. But alas, as the number of days that preceded the start of this Season diminished, so did her chances of another meeting with Edward Banks. For it would seem the man had all but disappeared after their meeting last year.

“
Don't be so glum, Regina. There's always a chance to rekindle your love for him after some stodgy old lord has made you a widow.” Toby frowned and brushed the white hair powder from the brown sleeve of his coat. “By then he'll have forgotten you tried to woo him with your insufficient knowledge of amphibians.”

Regina would have thrown a decorative pillow at his head for that remark if not for the fear he'd tattle on her to Father. Yes, he was
that
sort. Toby could tease to the point of outright cruelty, but if she were to so much as defend herself, he'd get angry and complain to Father. Nothing good came from being tattled on to Father. Ever.

“
Why did you really come by today?”

Toby idly scratched his head where his wig had sat only moments before. “Nothing that concerns you.”

“
Oh.” She lowered her lashes. Like Father, Toby often treated her as if she were a featherbrain who couldn't understand anything other than how to fan herself and curtsy.

“
Where's Father?”

“
He's in his study with one of his clients.”

“
Who?” Toby barked, startling her.

Regina licked her lips to stall for time. She didn't know or care who his guest was; she'd been in her room when he'd arrived. “I—I don't know.”

“
Well, it had better not be Lord Hogshead,” he said with a pout.

Regina closed her eyes so she wouldn't roll them. Lucas Harris, her father, was one of the most prominent businessmen in London. Regina was embarrassed to admit it, but she didn't know his exact title nor where his office was located. He'd never seen fit to tell her, claiming it wasn't for her to worry about. What she did know from bits and pieces of conversations she'd heard was that he was a banker, of sorts. He lent money and advised his clients, which mainly consisted of titled peers, on business matters. One day, he'd pass his business down to Toby—who'd run off all the clientele if he didn't stop his pouting, whining, and all around being a weasel.

Toby's heavy pacing, complete with arms crossed and an excessive amount of huffing and sniffing pulled Regina from her woolgathering. “He said he'd wait for me to talk to Lord Hogshead,” Toby whined before sweeping his open palm across the mahogany game table, sending all the stone pieces to the floor.

“
You'd
better hope you haven't lost any of those chess pieces, Toby,” Father thundered, entering the door. “Those were expensive—about a week's worth of wages, for you.”

Toby gulped and started picking up the pieces from the floor. For as much money as Father had, he was reluctant to part with a shilling if he could help it and often found reasons to deduct from her allowance or Toby's wages.

“
You didn't meet with Lord Hogshead without me, did you?” Toby asked when he'd found—and replaced—all the scattered chess pieces.

Father waved him off. “No. I know he's your client.” An odd look passed between them before Father cleared his throat and turned his attention to Regina, grinning. “Lord Hogshead will not be here until six; and as it would happen, I have something of great import to discuss with Regina just now.”

Regina and Toby exchanged looks. While Father wasn't what most would consider to be unlikable, he rarely smiled. In fact, the only times she'd ever seen him do so was following the meeting with a very important client or on the few occasions when they'd received a highly coveted invitation to a social event hosted by a prestigious member of the
ton
.

But no amount of thick vellum invitations issued to balls and soirees could hide the truth about Regina's family. They were commoners who filled their coffers not by inheriting old family money or by being paid by tenants who farmed their land, but in trade. It was only due to his financial position that their family had been extended any invitations at all. And he'd accepted the invitation to every event they'd been invited with the intention that Regina would find a husband of rank.

“
In that case, I'll find something to amuse myself with until I'm needed,” Toby said, snatching his wig off the floor where he'd thrown it.

“
Very good. Send Aunt Florence in before you get too amused.”

“
Yes, sir.”

Regina nearly pulled out every strand of her brown hair. Her father's widowed sister, Aunt Florence, had an undeniable tendency to act as if she was the debutante of the pair, always giggling or batting her eyelashes at the gentlemen. One would think she was
still
trying to land a husband instead of seeing to it that her charge made an acceptable match.

Only a moment later, Aunt Florence with her bright blonde hair, purple crushed velvet dress, and more paste jewels than was good for a body to wear sauntered into the room. “You wished to see me, Lucas.”

“
Have a seat.”

Aunt Florence clasped her gloved hands together and glided across the room to where Regina was sitting on the settee closest to the window. Despite there being two other settees and at least six unoccupied chairs in close proximity, Aunt Florence took a seat right next to Regina. “Yes, Lucas,” she said with a hint of a squeal.

Regina shook her head in amusement.

Father, however, rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Regina, Florence,” he started, taking a seat in the chair Toby had vacated earlier. “I have some very exciting news for both of you.”

“
You do?” Aunt Florence cooed.

Father shot her a pointed look, sobering her aunt. “Yes. I do.” He folded his arms and stretched his long legs out in front of himself, crossing his ankles. “As it would happen, Regina's last Season was far more productive than any of us thought it would be.”

Regina's heart picked up pace. What was he talking about?

“
Oh?” Aunt Florence asked, placing a bejeweled hand on Regina's forearm.

Father gave a stiff nod so not to displace the ridiculous wig he insisted that he needed to wear to be fashionable. “Yes. She seems to have captured the attention of a certain lord who has just requested her hand in marriage.”

Regina gasped and Aunt Florence squealed with delight.

“
I—he—we—” Regina tried desperately to form a sentence, but nothing coherent came out.

“
And what did you tell him, Lucas?” Aunt Florence asked for her, casting Regina a sly wink.