Bargaining With a Rogue, page 6
“Why is it so important for us to be friends?” she asked in a tight voice.
“Because we were once childhood friends, and I’m still chums with your brother.” He still didn’t dare mention knowing Adam.
“No, Nash.” She took a step toward the lit pathway. “It has to be more than just that.”
In silence, he searched his mind and his heart. Something deep down inside of him urged him to tell her about Adam. Perhaps that would put her mind at ease. Of course, it was nothing like the urge he had to take her back in his arms and kiss her to distraction, but close.
He sighed. “Not often do I make enemies with women I have shared a passionate moment with.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then count me as the first.”
She yanked her arm away from him and stepped out of the shadows and into the lit pathway leading to the terrace. But when she came to a sudden stop, he moved closer to see what had grabbed her attention. When he recognized the fierce expression of her father, Nash’s world slowly crumbled around him. It was as though he stood on the brinks of a collapsing bridge that would break and take him down into the deep unknown.
The older man’s arms were crossed over his wide chest, but it was the disappointed frown that Nash didn’t like. Warning bells rang through his head. Should he run or should he try to create some kind of excuse to get out of this mess? Although his mind scrambled with plausible excuses to give the duke, his voice refused to work.
“F-father?” Frances’ voice shook.
The duke’s glare switched from his daughter to Nash. The longer the seconds ticked by, the smaller he felt. His chest tightened, making it harder to breathe.
The duke motioned toward the glade of trees. “Shall we have a private conversation right now?”
The older man’s gaze stayed on Nash mostly during that question. Helplessly, he nodded. A low groan came from Frances as she turned and strode back into the shadows. Nash had no other choice but to follow her. His mind scrambled once more to grasp something intelligent to say, and yet, he had never been in this situation before. Honestly, he didn’t know how to get out.
Frances’ eyes were downcast as she wrung her hands against her middle. Nash gulped, trying to moisten his suddenly dry throat. It didn’t work as he had planned. Apparently, nothing was working according to what he had intended.
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” the duke said quietly, breaking the uncomfortable silence, “but did I just overhear you and my daughter admit to sharing a passionate moment?”
Nash tried swallowing again, but the blasted lump in his throat wouldn’t budge. “Well, you see, Your Grace—”
“The truth, Nash.” The duke’s voice became stronger.
“We did share a kiss, Sir.”
“Just now?” The duke arched an eyebrow. “In this glade of trees?”
“Yes,” Nash said, and Frances chimed with the same dismal reply.
The duke’s glare moved between Nash and Frances again. His mouth pulled tight in irritation as his nostrils flared. Nash had never felt so defenseless than right now.
“You do know what this means, do you not?” The older man asked his daughter.
Meekly, she lifted her watery gaze to her father and nodded. “I do.”
Inwardly, Nash groaned. He knew what it meant, too.
“This is what I propose,” the duke continued, linking his hands behind him as he paced in front of Nash and Frances. “Nash Wolverton will court Frances for an entire week, taking her out in public so society isn’t surprised when I announce my daughter’s wedding.” He stopped his pacing in front of Nash. “Does this sound reasonable? I’d rather do it this way than to force you to marry my daughter right away and live through the scandal that will go with it.”
“Ye—” Nash choked on the words, so he quickly cleared his throat. “Yes, Your Grace. That option does appear the better choice.”
The duke swung around and faced Frances. “Is this acceptable to you as well?”
She kept her gaze on the ground. “Yes, Father.”
“Splendid.” He clapped his hands once. “Then let’s adjourn back to the party now that the dancing has ended.”
Frances didn’t meet Nash’s eyes as they walked behind her father. Nash felt as if he’d been in front of a magistrate and condemned for his crimes. And yet, living as Frances’ husband wasn’t exactly torture, was it? His heart argued with his mind. Of course, it was. The whole time he would feel guilty about his part in her fiancé’s death. He’d fear the moment when she discovered it and would forever loathe him.
Not only that, he wouldn’t be able to touch her at all. How could he live the rest of his life as a monk?
Inwardly, he groaned. He was doomed.
FIVE
Frances didn’t know if she was happy or sad.
Her heart danced with happiness knowing that her father wouldn’t force her to marry Augusta’s dreadful nephew, and yet at the same time, pain of remorse squeezed her heart knowing a man was being forced to marry her. That’s not what she had wanted. If only Nash would have accepted her bargain in the first place, she and Nash would have entered the marriage on their own terms.
She couldn’t sit still as she waited for Nash to pick her up for a ride in the park. Her father thought that would make a good start for beginning their week of courting. Augusta sat calmly on her rose cushioned chair while she sewed on a sampler, but Frances couldn’t claim to have the same patience. She wrung her hands, flexed them, shook them, and wanted to nibble on her fingernails, but she didn’t dare without getting reprimanded by her stepmother.
It was already half-past eleven, and Nash was supposed to pick her up at eleven. Once in a while her stepmother glanced up at the clock perched on the mantle above the fireplace. Irritation grew inside of Frances. Why didn’t that woman appear upset at all?
Worry settled in Frances’ gut. Had Nash decided he didn’t want to be forced into marriage so he skipped town? Or worse, had he confronted her father without her knowledge, and told the duke that he wouldn’t marry Frances no matter what scandal it made.
Something inside her stomach lurched. She stopped pacing and placed a hand to her throat. At any moment, she would lose the very little breakfast she had eaten this morning, she just knew it.
When the minute hand on the pendulum moved ahead one notch, she gritted her teeth and turned toward her stepmother. “I fear he’s not coming.”
Augusta smiled with her normally fake sweetness. “He will come.”
“What makes you so certain?” Frances moved to her stepmother’s chair and squatted in front of her. “Nash Wolverton has a reputation of a rogue. He’s not going to be easily convinced to marry when he is against the very idea.”
Sighing, Augusta placed the sampler on her lap before patting Frances’ shoulder. “My dear, you must have faith in the man. Do you recall last night when Lady Bothwell stated that rakes make the best husbands?”
A laugh bubbled up from her throat. Was this woman jesting? She must be, because the mere idea was ludicrous. “Of course, I remember. But I thought it was ludicrous then just like it’s ludicrous now.”
“Well, although he’s a rogue, I believe he is still a gentleman. He’s been left to care for his sisters, and because he didn’t desert them, I highly doubt he’s going to desert you.”
Frances wanted to argue. He’d told her himself that he didn’t accept the offer because he wasn’t ready to marry—or fall in love. Of course, if she really thought of it, they would make the perfect couple, then.
Shaking her head, Frances stood and moved to peek out the window. The sight before her made her hitch a breath. Her father stood in front of the entryway talking with Nash. An open carriage waited in front of the manor, as well.
Before she could stop it, her heartbeat quickened. He hadn’t run off, thank goodness. However, now she had to go on the morning ride with him. What could they possibly discuss? Especially, when she had wanted to end their conversation for good last night before her father had caught them.
“Is he here?” her stepmother asked.
Frances had a sneaky suspicion that Augusta had known the whole time that Nash was outside talking with her father. Why had her stepmother made Frances suffer so?
“Make sure to take Johnson with you as your chaperone,” Augusta said in an annoying tone. “And don’t forget to take your shawl, dear. There is a light wind today.”
“I will.”
Frances hurried up to her bedchambers and fetched the shawl and bonnet. As much as she despised wearing a bonnet, she didn’t like the way the sun baked her skin if she didn’t wear it. Of course, on a perfect day, she loved nothing more than to ride on her horse, letting her hair flap in the wind...as long as nobody noticed her.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, her maid, Johnson, waited for her by the door. Nash had entered the manor, holding his hat. Her father stood nearby watching. Nash’s gaze locked on her, but she couldn’t tell if he was happy to see her or not. What was she thinking? Of course, he wasn’t happy to see her. He was being forced to marry her.
As she reached his side, he gave her a small smile and slightly bowed. “You are looking lovely this morning, Lady Frances.”
She wanted to snort a laugh, but she was afraid her father would scold her. However, she could tell Nash had memorized the line. Strange how she could tell when he wasn’t telling the truth now. Why hadn’t she realized that when she’d made him the offer a week ago?
“I thank you, my lord. And may I return the compliment? You are looking quite dashing today.” The words came out of her mouth before she realized that they were true. He wore a beige coat and trousers, and his vest was powder blue. Indeed, he looked quite dapper.
He presented his elbow, and she took it. Without a word to her father, Nash escorted her outside and to the opened buggy, her maid following behind. Like a gentleman, he assisted her as she climbed inside. Johnson sat in the seat behind them, and Nash hopped in next to Frances. Still being quiet, he took the reins and urged the horse forward.
The silence between them thickened and became awkward. She shifted in her seat, not wanting to sit too close to him. She didn’t like bumping against him every time the wheels hit a rock or dipped in the road.
She released a heavy breath and looked at him. His attention was on the road ahead. His expression wasn’t pleasant, either. “So is this how things are going to play out until the wedding?”
He glanced at her. “What do you mean?”
“This awkward silence between us.”
“Of course not. We may talk if that is what you wish.”
“Then why are you not doing that very thing?”
He shrugged. “Probably because I cannot think of what to say.”
“Well, we could start out talking about what happened last night.”
“Before or after your father arrived?” He kept his eyes on the road.
She definitely didn’t want to talk about what happened before. Then again, if they hadn’t shared a passionate kiss, they wouldn’t be in this predicament right now. “After.”
“There isn’t much to talk about.”
Oh, how she wanted to shake some sense into him. “Are you not in the least upset?”
“Upset is a strong word, I suppose.” Clearing his throat, he shifted in the seat, turning slightly toward her. “I try not to express what I feel, mainly because I cannot control the situation.”
“Do you...blame me for what happened?” she asked softly.
He met her stare a few seconds longer. “Blame you? Why would I do that? After all, I was the one who went after you when I realized you’d gone outside. And I was the one who stopped you when you tried to leave the glade of trees that first time.” He looked back toward the road. “Things happened for a reason last night, and although I’m not quite certain what that reason is, I cannot fight it. I must accept the consequences and continue with my life.”
She toyed with the fringe on her shawl and frowned. The tone of his voice told her the words he wouldn’t speak. He wasn’t happy about the situation, but thankfully, he wouldn’t fight it, either. Once again, mixed emotions filled her. Did she want him to be happy? At least they could be friends after they were married, couldn’t they?
“Wise words.” She nodded. “I, too, must try to accept what has happened.” She forced a small laugh. “At least we know each other, instead of strangers being pushed to wed.”
“Very true.”
“And because we’ve already had this talk, you know what I expect, just as I know what you expect.”
Ahead of them was the park, and several couples strolled along the paths or they rode in carriages. She took a deep breath and sat straighter. Unease jumped in her stomach. They both needed to act as if they were falling in love.
“Look lively,” he said. “Our performance starts now.”
This time when she chuckled, it wasn’t forced. “Strange that you could read my mind.” She smiled at him as he glanced at her. “I was actually thinking that very thing.”
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad. It shall make this outing easier.”
“Indeed.”
“However, I believe you should scoot closer to me on the seat. Perhaps even hook your arm around mine.”
“I should?” Her heart picked up speed. She glanced back at her maid who appeared to be half asleep, anyway.
“Yes. That would make things appear better,” Nash said.
She must trust his word. Trying not to be too conspicuous, she did as he suggested. Once she had snaked her arm around his, his body relaxed just a bit, which made her more comfortable, as well. Perhaps this next half hour wouldn’t be too terribly bad after all.
NASH REALLY SHOULD change his attitude about everything. After all, he was sitting in a carriage with a very beautiful woman. The yellow and tan day dress with short, ruffled sleeves, made her appear absolutely sweet. Not to mention the matching bonnet. Her attire gave her a look of innocence, and being with her like this made him actually want to act more gentlemanly. He was a rogue, but he did retain some gentlemanly manners once in a while.
Last evening he’d stewed about his dire predicament. It kept him awake most of the night, in fact. Never had he felt so trapped, and that wasn’t a pleasant feeling to have. But this morning, he started thinking about different things. Being her husband gave him the right to kiss her...and seduce her. Because of their conversation in the glade of trees, she now knew that men expected to have heirs. Hopefully, she would eventually want children with him, as well.
He had realized last night while they were inside the glade of trees, how easily he could talk to her—not to mention how quickly she melted in his arms. Perhaps married life wouldn’t be so terrible after all.
He’d also decided that Adam Haddington was dead and buried, and so should the secrets Nash had about his friend. He would never tell Frances, and in return, she would not have any reason to hate him.
This realization had lifted his hopes—until he remembered what she’d said about not giving her heart to anyone. She would never really love him. He could probably grow to love her, but only if she returned the emotion. There was no use loving someone unless they loved him back.
Frances made it abundantly clear that she could never do that. After the thought had lodged into his head, his hopes dropped again. Why was he continuing with this farce anyway? Yet, he knew it was for his sisters. They deserved to have good marriages, even if he couldn’t have one.
So far, the plan to appear happy together was working. Many people greeted them with nods and waves. Some of their expressions were shocked, while others were lit up with delight. Those were probably the duke’s friends, happy that someone was finally courting his daughter.
He glanced at Frances again. It made no sense why a man hadn’t snatched her up by now. Could she have really been so devastated over her soldier’s death that she never wanted to marry? It was hard for Nash to believe that. He’d known Adam for years. The man hadn’t led an exemplary life. There wasn’t anything special about Nash’s friend that women fell over themselves for. And...Candace had confessed that Adam only wanted to marry Frances because of her dowry.
“Precious,” Nash said, bringing her attention onto him. “Would you like to stroll a bit? I think it will be refreshing to stretch our legs.”
“Yes. I believe that would be a nice change.”
He found a spot to park his buggy. He jumped down and tied the horse to a tree before helping Frances down. The petite woman was so delicate, and he carefully set her down on her feet, but not before her body bumped against his. His heartbeat flipped, and he mentally convinced his body that getting excited right now was not an option.
He turned and assisted the maid down before offering his elbow to Frances. As they began their walk, he glanced her way. She had such a lovely smile. It was the perfect day for a stroll, and the sunlight brightened her face as she greeted people. It was hard not to feel like the luckiest man in London at this precise moment.
They reached a spot in the park that wasn’t so congested. Their steps slowed considerably. The maid walked several steps behind. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Frances staring up at him.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked.
“Indeed, I am. But the question is...are you having a pleasant outing?”
He chuckled. “I am, actually.”
“You sound surprised.” Her brows lifted. “I wonder why.”
“It’s nice to be out in the sun, strolling through the park with a lovely lady.”
“Oh, Nash,” she tapped his arm playfully, “you don’t have to lie and make me believe you’ve never done this before. I’m quite certain I’m not the first woman you’ve brought to the park.”
“No, you haven’t been the first, but I can assure you, you have been one of the loveliest.” He stroked his fingers along her hand. “And for some reason, I feel more comfortable with you.”
