True Love's Deception (book 3) (The Fielding Brothers Saga) (4 page)

There would be no way he could pretend to be a husband. All of his life he longed for a real family—a close family as he’d seen others have. If he planned on being any kind of husband at all, it would be the kind who was married in a church—and legal. Andrew wouldn’t have it any other way.

The wood from the fireplace popped and startled him, bringing him temporarily out of his thoughts. A log fell in the hearth and broke apart. As he swiped his hand over his freshly shaven chin, he grinned. He really should have let Miss Juliana speak her mind just to see what she really wanted, but her obnoxious words were too degrading and he couldn’t take her rudeness any longer.

Yet it was his station in life to take it. That’s probably why he could never settle in one place. Before too long, the owners of the estate would dismiss him for his manner of speech. Even now he wondered how much longer he’d be staying. And for some odd reason, he wanted to set
that woman
in another dither and enjoy watching it happen.

She was really very beautiful with her eyes alight with fire. He usually didn’t notice the color of women’s eyes, but Juliana’s were different; a lovely blue and at certain times a green. Or were they turquoise? She had a nicely shaped mouth, lush and full lips, except, of course, when she opened it to speak. Long, blonde hair streaked with red tones hung down her back and had been pulled together with a matching ribbon.

But why did she want to hire a temporary husband? She was a beautiful woman, and it surprised him she wasn’t married by now. His curiosity must be satisfied. Neither Wilbur nor Pearl had time to say anything to Andrew after
Lady
Priss
left the parlor, because he found the nearest exit and had gone about his duties. Now he regretted it.

Andrew decided to retire for the night. There were many chores awaiting him on the morrow. He stood, walked to the fire and reached for the poker to break the logs. A small knock on the front door stopped him.

When he opened the door, he blinked, not believing what he saw. Miss Juliana stood on the rickety step, her hand raised to knock again. Her eyes widened before her gaze combed over him in a leisurely manner. Pink highlighted her cheeks before she lowered her lashes.
Behind her stood the buxom maid, Pearl.

Miss Juliana cleared her throat. “Mr. Dean? May I speak with you for a moment?”

This must be it.
She must have decided to come fire him herself. Casually, he leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms. “It’s
yer
property. Ye can do
anythin
’ ye wish.”

She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and met his gaze. “You know, I could have you removed from this estate for the way you treated me earlier.”

Perhaps that’s not why she was here originally. Now his interest had raised a notch. “I’m aware of that.”

With an unsteady hand, she pulled a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to grin. He couldn’t understand why she would suddenly turn shy, but he couldn’t wait to find out.

“I didn’t come here to belittle you, Mr. Dean. Actually, I have come to ask your forgiveness. My behavior this afternoon was inexcusable. My only rational explanation is that I have been under a lot of duress of late, and my temper has been quite unmanageable.”

Surprise washed over him and he gaped. Perhaps he needed to clean out his ears again, he couldn’t possibly have heard right. This time, he’d let her speak without interruption. He might even discover her immense problem.

Andrew stepped away from the door and swept his hand in front of him. Juliana sashayed in as her maid waddled behind.

He smiled. “Now, ye were
sayin
’ about
yer
behavior?”

Her hands balled into fists and she tucked them in the folds of her skirt.
Ah-ha!
A performance.
Well, two could play her game.

“I have been under a lot of pressure,” she began, “and I have not been myself. I am truly sorry.”

He stepped past her and over to his chair. “Would ye care tae sit?” He pointed to the small, worn sofa beside his seat.

Through creased brows she looked at the dingy piece of furniture and scrunched her nose. Once again, her snobbish upbringing showed.

“No thank you, Mr. Dean. I’m not going to stay very long. I just came to apologize.”

Even through her arrogance, he still found her breathtaking. Strange that he’d notice how lovely she looked, but he couldn’t keep from studying her. She wore a different dress than she had this afternoon. The dark material turned her eyes a deeper shade of turquoise. Her hair curled in ringlets around her neck and shoulders. He liked it better when it was straight and gathered with a ribbon at her neck.

He scrubbed his hands over his chin. “What is
yer
purpose here
t’night
?”

She inhaled deeply before answering. “I—I—I’m here to beg for your assistance in a matter of great importance.”

“How may I assist
ye
?”

She studied the piece of furniture in front of her for a hesitant second, before perching herself on his dingy couch, but as close to the edge as she could. Her back straight, hands folded properly in her lap. “I need a man to portray my husband while I’m in England for a spell visiting with my family.”

Now this was different.
He sat in his chair. “
Yer
family lives in England?”

“Yes.
Kent, to be precise.”

“Who lives here with
ye
?”

“My maternal grandmother.”

“Why do ye need a husband?”

“Well,” she paused and gave a light chuckle, “because I need to be married.”

He arched an eyebrow.
Ah-ha.
She was in the motherly way, perhaps?
“Why, may I ask?”

“Because if I’m not, my father will arrange a marriage for me, and I cannot have that.” She shrugged. “I enjoy living the way I am now. I enjoy being my own, independent woman. I’m not ready to marry, but I need a man who will act as my husband in front of my father and my family so no one will suspect I’m misleading them.” She cleared her throat. “And there is the fact that I need to be married to get my inheritance.”

This was not the answer he thought he’d hear. He couldn’t believe it, but the more he learned of her deceitful ways, the more intriguing she became. Most high-class women would never do this, let alone consider it.

“Why me?” he asked.

“Admit it, Mr. Dean, you are more husband material than any other man on this estate, and if I take this matter elsewhere, it will cause scandal.”

Needing to think without looking into her sorrowful expression, he walked to the fireplace, took the poker and moved the logs. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed her gaze roaming over him. Somehow he’d captured her interest, and he rather liked it.

“Suppose I was tae go along with this little scheme of
yers
.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “What would I get out of it?”

She jumped to her feet. Her stare focused directly on him. “You will be paid a tidy sum.” Her slender neck constricted as if she swallowed hard. “I will pay you three times your wages now, and you will be outfitted to look like a gentleman before we leave. You will also be given a small allowance when we arrive, but that will be all. I’ll pay you half before we go, and the rest once we return. What better offer can be given to a man of your station?”

He gnashed his teeth. He could have done without that last comment. But she was correct. He’d never get a better offer. And the bargain did sound good. He’d never made that much money, and even if he scraped and saved for the next ten years, he probably wouldn’t earn that amount.

His heart raced at the mere thought of owning something for the first time in his life. Having his own horse would be good, or he could buy himself his own little parcel of land and start his own stud farm, which had been a dream of his for a while.

Thinking over the pros and cons, he kept silent. Right now, the only disadvantage was that she would be his pretend wife and he’d have to put up with her vicious mouth.
But what about his goal of obtaining a real family?
A real wife and being married in a church?
If he went along with her scheme, it would ruin everything he’d ever wanted. Then again, having that much money may find him the life he thought he’d never have.

The bargain sounded good, but Andrew couldn’t give in so easily. He needed to barter just a little more. And he really wanted to see her squirm.

“I might consider
doin
’ it if ye pay me four times me wages—”

“Done.”
She smiled and her face beamed.

“And, I might consider
doin
’ it if ye promise me
somethin
’ in return for the favor I’m
doin
’ ye.”

The blush he’d seen earlier returned and spread across her face. “And what might that be?” Her voice quivered.

Should he tease? Although it’d be enjoyable, he’d do it at a later date, and especially, not in front of her maid.

“Ye have tae promise tae treat me as
yer
equal. I won’t be made tae look like the Scottish bumpkin who kisses the ground ye walk on. I’ll be
yer
husband and
ye’ll
treat me with respect.”

She lifted her chin a little higher. “And how will you treat me, Mr. Dean?”

“I’ll treat you as kindly as ye do me. If ye regard me as a precious piece of glass, I’ll do the same, but if ye treat me like I’m kitchen scraps, then
ye’ll
be treated likewise. Is that reasonable?”

Uncertainty flickered in her turquoise eyes, and she bit her bottom lip. After a few moments of silence, she took a deep breath walked to him.

“Agreed.”

“Then it’s settled...wife.” He grinned.

She grimaced. “I give you permission to address me by my given name.”

“Fine then, Juliana...Dean.”

“No. That’s not right either. You shall use a different name. I think the name Lawrence sounds more believable for the gentleman I’m going to turn you into. From now on your name will be Andrew Dean Lawrence.”

“Lawrence?” He cocked his head, a strange feeling washed over him. He didn’t like the idea of taking on another man’s name. “Where did that name come from?”

“There are a lot of Lawrence’s in England, and so nobody would think twice and wonder which family you came from.” She laughed. “You know, for some reason, that name sounds good on you.”

For the first time since they met, he agreed with her.

* * * *

Andrew stood inside the church in the next town over, waiting for Miss Juliana to arrive.

It took some talking, and he feared the Lord would strike him speechless. Andrew really didn’t want to lie to his employer, but he just couldn’t
pretend
to be her husband. And the only way he could accomplish to have her pay him, and be her husband, was to marry her—without her knowledge. Thankfully, Andrew knew a man who was a true, honest-to-God clergyman whether the man was crooked or not. Mr. Richens told Andrew he’d perform the marriage ceremony, but it had to be in a church. Wilbur agreed—as did Miss Juliana—and Andrew breathed a sigh of relief. Now as long as Wilbur and the Mistress didn’t know the wedding was real, Andrew’s plan would work perfectly.

But now as he stood waiting for her to show, dread buried a hole in his gut and guilt gnawed at his conscience. Lying to Juliana was wrong, but it had to be done. He just couldn’t
pretend
to be anyone’s husband. He had morals.