The Bluestocking’s Absolutely Brilliant Betrothal (The Notorious Briarwoods #6)

Chapter 7

“L ady Aurelia, you forgot something at Heron House.”

Aurelia bit the inside of her lip and gazed with exceedingly strong favor upon the man standing across the room. Good Lord, Lord Achilles was handsome.

Annoyingly, preposterously, painfully handsome and charming. The way Lord Achilles took up a room was nigh impossible. Surely, it wasn’t possible, and yet it was as if all the air in the room seemed to recede to make way for him.

She blinked. She stood beside the pianoforte, gave him a quick curtsy, gave a nod to the butler to indicate he could leave her with her caller, and then turned her gaze back to Lord Achilles as soon as they were alone. Well, not entirely alone. The door was open.

“I beg your pardon,” she managed at last. “I am surprised by your presence.”

And his presence was no small thing. Why was he calling upon her? Would his mother use him as an errand boy? Surely, she would choose a footman for such a thing.

The sound of footsteps raced overhead and Lord Achilles smiled as if he favored the sound.

The house was a cacophony. Her younger siblings were all playing upstairs, running back and forth, no doubt playing golf or some sporting game that was meant for outdoors. But when one had a large family, one didn’t play many games where they were meant to be played. No, they were played anywhere there was a long hall or a big space.

Her mother was likely readying the week’s meals with Cook. They had gotten word that her father would return this afternoon, and she was deeply grateful. She missed him terribly.

“Lady Aurelia,” Lord Achilles prompted.

She frowned. Hadn’t she just left Heron House this morning?

Truly. What the blazes was he doing here? “Forgot what?” she managed at last.

He smiled slowly. “My mother sent this note. I am to deliver it to you posthaste.”

And with that, he crossed the room in those remarkable strides he had, with his remarkable limbs covered in fawn breeches and polished black Hessians. His coat was a beautiful emerald that clung to his wide shoulders.

He was no Hercules. No, he was far more Apollonian in his stature, which she quite admired. He wasn’t a hulking bulk of a man. No, he was all sinew and looked as if he would be able to move rapidly and smoothly. Easily.

Like a hawk.

His eyes were dark and dancing, his hair lush and teasing at his temples. She found her insides fluttering again as she reached out to take the note from him. For the briefest of moments, their fingertips brushed, and it was all she could do to stop herself from some terribly cliché gasp. She was no foolish girl in a novel a penny paper, or was she?

Oh dear, what if she was?

What if she was no different than the young girls who were swept away by rakes and rogues and charming gentlemen? She’d always thought she was made of sterner stuff than that, but perhaps she was the same. She’d simply needed to meet someone with adequate power and charm. He certainly did have adequate power and charm. He’d made that quite clear this morning. She had not thought she’d have to face him again so soon. She rather liked that she was facing him again so soon.

She swallowed, clasped the note carefully, its expensive paper caressing her skin. She turned it over, broke the wax seal, and then opened it. The paper crackled, and he waited patiently.

She read the words. There were very few of them.

I promised you a solution. Here it is.

Aurelia turned the note over. There was nothing more to it. There were no instructions, no further indication of what the solution might be. There was no pamphlet. Nothing.

Just those words.

And then her stomach did the strangest little dance.

Here it is.

Him. Achilles was the solution, but what solution could he possibly provide?

She lifted her gaze back to his and met the most wolfish smile she’d ever seen. He looked terribly amused.

“You know, don’t you?” she all but accused.

“Know what?” he queried.

She cocked her head to the side, assessing his charming person. “That I went to your mother for a solution... to my marriage dilemma.”

“Young ladies do often come to my mother for solutions. I applaud you for it,” he said with a delicious shrug. “It was a very wise decision. I think you already know that I generally feel this way.”

She gestured with the note. “Yes, but she seems to indicate that you are the answer to my dilemma.”

He laughed slowly. “Doesn’t every gentleman long to be the answer to a maiden’s prayers?” Slowly, Achilles folded his strong arms over his rather impressive chest, causing the pin in his cravat to wink in the light. “Yes, what a St. George I shall be. I’ve always fancied myself a knight charging in to rescue the damsel.”

“Have you?” she drawled.

“No. Actually, no,” he confessed. “Mother never encouraged us to feel that way about those sorts of stories. She said ladies should not be silly enough to wait in towers, that it was just society doing that to them, and that ladies were quite capable of finding outlets on their own.”

“That’s what I thought I was doing,” she stated with a sigh, “but here you are. My knight rescuer.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said. “You did find the solution. I am but a means to it.”

“I’ll give you that point,” she said, folding the note up and popping her hand on her hip with surprising defiance. “Please do explain how you are my solution.”

“I’m supposed to ask you to marry me.”

She blinked. “What?” she gasped.

“I am to ask you—”

“Yes, yes. I understood what you said, but the entire reason I went to your mother—”

“Yes, yes,” he said, echoing her tone playfully. “I know. Was to avoid matrimony.”

“And you’re going to ask me…” She stopped, swallowing. “This is all very confusing. This is a level of intrigue that I am not capable of playing.”

“I highly doubt that. You’re incredibly clever,” he said.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“You’re welcome. It’s the truth.” He lowered his arms and grew serious. “Lady Aurelia, I’m going to ask you to marry me. You’re going to say yes, but you don’t actually have to marry me if you don’t wish to.”

She stared at him as if he had lost his wits. “I don’t follow.”

“Yes, you do,” he said.

“No, I don’t,” she insisted. “What do you mean if I don’t want to?”

“Well, a lady can renege on an engagement. You’re more than aware of this.”

“But you can’t,” she said. “What if I trap you?”

“Will you?” he asked softly.

A strange shiver went down her spine, and for a moment she was absolutely certain that he longed for her to do so, to trap him into matrimony.

What would that mean exactly? To be married to him?

To go to bed with him every night, to wake up at his side every morning, to spend the rest of her life in the company of someone with such devilish charm, good looks, and eyes that looked at her as if she was heaven upon earth? They’d only known each other for a few moments. How could he possibly look at her like that? It was all absolutely preposterous. No wonder the Briarwoods were so odd.

They all acted as if they were in a play or a novel, but life was not a play or a novel. It was very serious indeed.

“I will not trap you,” she promised. “I am not that kind of person.”

“My mother didn’t think so, and that’s why she suggested it. But I wouldn’t mind the possibility,” he said.

She frowned. “Why?”

“Well, if you must know,” he began, his voice a low hum of masculine promise, “I’m happy to oblige whatever you want. A ruse or a real marriage.”

She jerked her chin back. “You would marry me in reality?”

“In truth, I have to marry eventually,” he said.

“Oh, don’t say something like that. It’s very boring.”

He laughed. “You’re right. Some of my brothers have gotten into boring territory before with careless proposals, but, you see, you’ve come into my path for a reason, and I’m not going to be foolish enough to ignore it. Let me explain. The Briarwoods understand this. My brothers understand this. We don’t rail against fate. We don’t fight it. We surrender.”

She arched a brow. “How very noble of you.”

He laughed. “That’s one way of putting it. Some people might call it cowardly.”

She sucked in a slow breath, unable to imagine him as a coward. “I don’t think it’s cowardly to embrace your fate, but I don’t believe in fate like that.”

“Most people don’t,” he said. “Most people are miserable.”

She let out a choking laugh. “Well, I won’t argue that point with you. But, truly, you’re willing to masquerade as my fiancé for the foreseeable future? If I don’t wish to marry.”

His lips quirked. “Yes, but I might try to persuade you that I’m a wonderful catch.”

She narrowed her gaze. “You shouldn’t be telling me that. And I already know you’re a wonderful catch. All society knows, I’d wager.”

His eyes heated with pleasure at her compliment.

“Well then,” he murmured, “I’ll keep that to myself. But I’d make you an excellent husband.”

“Good grief,” she said. “You are arrogant.”

He smiled again. He was very good at smiling. Every one of them was genuine and did things to her she couldn’t quite describe.

He did not say anything else. He did not need to. He was a wonderful catch by every definition, except, of course, his arrogance. His arrogance was a bit much. It was also tremendously appealing. There was something to be said for his incredible self-confidence.

But in that moment, she thought to herself that he must, of course, be teasing. He didn’t actually mean it. No, no. He was too young to wish to be married. Yet this was the perfect subterfuge for him as well. He would ask her to marry him, and they would both use the engagement for their own ends. She could make her parents feel relieved and happy while she did her work. She would not have to waste valuable time and energy entertaining suitors. And he could go on for some time with mistresses and such.

It was a wonderful plan, actually. It truly would make her mother and father very happy, something she wished to do very much at present.

She didn’t like going against her parents. They had done so much for her. They loved her so dearly. They had given her such a wonderful education. She didn’t wish to betray them for it, and so she held out her hand. “I think it’s a marvelous idea,” she said. “I accept your proposal.”

“I haven’t proposed yet,” he pointed out.

“Oh, right,” she said. “Go on then.”

His lips twitched ever so slightly. “Will you marry me?”

“I will,” she said softly. “In theory.”

He let out a soft, low rumble at that. “Oh, Lady Aurelia, you are one of a kind, and I like that very well indeed.”

“Thank you,” she said, still holding out her hand.

He eyed it. “A handshake? Surely we can have more fun than that.”

“As I understand it, the clasping of hands is a very good way of striking a bargain.”

And so he slipped his hand into hers, swallowing her palm up in his massive one, and he pulled her a little closer. “It’s true,” he said, “but Briarwoods love fun. And now that you are my fiancée, I confess that I’d rather our lips kiss than our palms.”

The reference to the famous scene in Romeo and Juliet danced through her. She loved that play and a shimmer of warmth heated her blood. Was he truly longing to kiss her as Romeo longed to kiss Juliet?

She gasped. “Pretend fiancée,” she reminded.

“Of course, but we can enjoy the intimacies of an engaged couple. You’re much more free to do what you want, you know. You won’t have so many rules restricting you as my pretend soon-to-be bride. It will be quite a revelation.”

Her heart began to pound wildly within her breast. He was right to a degree. She would suddenly be able to do many things she could not before. And what would stop her from kissing this very fine and excellent gentleman?

Nothing.

She did not have to marry him if she did not wish to. He would let her go. That was clear. And if she wished to let him go, which of course she would, well, she would have had the experience of kissing Lord Achilles Briarwood.