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

Chapter 8

A chilles was about to kiss the woman he was going to marry.

Oh, she might not realize that she was truly going to wed him. She might be committed to the idea that this was a ruse, and that was perfectly fine. He was happy to go along with that. But with every growing moment, he was certain that she was the one for him. From her wit to her smile, to her intelligence, to the way she bandied about with him, to the way she quickly gave into the idea of pleasure as part of the package of their pretend engagement… She was heaven.

Yes, this was the woman of his dreams. And he reveled in the wonderful nature of being a Briarwood and having the universe deliver the one all but with a bow. Every Briarwood had had it happen so far, so of course it would happen to him.

Jean-Luc’s pessimism was only because of the dark circumstances surrounding him at present.

Perhaps one day, some Briarwood might meet with difficulty, but it would not be him because everything about her suggested that she was his match in every way. And soon, they would match in physical ways too.

Achilles reached up and gently traced his fingertips along her cheekbones. The soft, gentle curve of her face called to him. Her eyes were now half-hooded, her lashes fluttering slightly as if she was readying herself for his kiss.

He could not wait to give it to her. And he wondered in that moment if she had ever been kissed, if he would be her first kiss. It did not matter to him if he was or not, but what he did know for certain? If he was her first kiss, he wanted it to be perfect for her!

And so he went very slowly. He took his thumb and tilted her face upward towards his, gently easing her head back. He took a step closer until his boots brushed the toes of her slippers.

Their bodies brushed ever so slightly, through several layers of elaborately tailored garments. He gazed down at her lips, studying the soft, pink swells. Oh, he could not wait to touch them with his own. Their breathing seemed to mingle, unifying. He felt his heart begin to pound loud and hard in his chest. And he stole his free hand to her waist, pulling her closer.

She did not resist.

No, she seemed ready to give in, as if she had been waiting for this moment her whole life, longing to give in. Perhaps she had. Perhaps all she’d wanted was the freedom of being free. And he was happy to give her that because their pretend engagement did give her freedom.

And everyone should be free, he thought to himself.

And then he lowered his mouth to hers, taking her lips with as much passion, gentleness, and desire as he could. She startled against him for a moment, and he knew, in that moment, that he was indeed her first kiss. His mind reveled at the idea, his body too, but he was careful, so very careful, lest he alarm her. She wasn’t particularly tall, and he was a big man. He wanted her to feel safe with him, to feel that his power was there for her, not against her.

And so he kissed her seductively, slowly, teasingly, protectively even, as if he would slay the whole world for her and their kiss. Then at last, recalling that the door was open and he did not wish for their first kiss to be interrupted by an outsider, he leaned back, his entire body ringing with desire for her.

Achilles stared down at her with half-drunk eyes. And she met his gaze, stunned, as if she had been transported to a world she had not ever dared to imagine existed.

She let out a soft breath. “It is no wonder why people fall in love,” she mused before she could stop herself, apparently, because then she snapped her mouth shut.

He smiled slowly at her. Love was not a kiss. He knew this all too well. He’d had many of them, but even he knew that this kiss was special. She wouldn’t understand that, necessarily, because it was her first. She might think all kisses were like this, but no. He had traveled halfway around the world and had spent some of his time in the greatest cities in Europe, but he had never ever, in his entire life, had a moment like this.

And he wanted more of those moments. Many, many more of them.

Suddenly, they heard footsteps in the hall. He jumped back from her because if they were caught in a state of semi-ruin by anyone but his family, it would be incredibly difficult for them to retreat from an engagement, if that’s what she wished. And he had no intention of trapping her in any way.

He knew that if she felt as if she’d been forced, it would snuff out any love she might have for him. And why in God’s name would someone like him have to force anyone to marry? No. She would see the reasonable nature of all of this and how she was destined to be his wife. He didn’t have to do anything.

It would happen on its own.

The bustle of noise in the hallway distracted him, and then suddenly she drew in a breath.

Her eyes danced in an entirely different way. “It is Papa,” she cried out, and then she grabbed his hand and began to run, pulling him with her.

He went, of course, not wishing to be left behind and feeling quite pleased to be swept up into her life. They headed out into the hall, and there was a wild clutch of servants bringing in cases, trying to make order of the chaos of the arrival of someone who had been absent for more than a few days.

And then a tall man, incredibly thin underneath his gray cloak, emerged through the front door.

The gentleman’s hat was perched upon his head, looking large due to his curved shoulders. The man was leaning heavily upon a set of canes.

“Papa,” she called out again.

He loved to hear the joy in her voice as she rushed forward to greet her father. Achilles was so glad that she clearly knew love from her parents. It was such a gift to children to be loved by their parents, and he could not wait to love his own. And by seeing the love she had, he was certain she would love her own children too. She would be a wonderful mother.

“Papa,” she said, her hands reaching for Lord Pritchard, “how are you?”

“Well, pet, well,” Lord Pritchard said, embracing her awkwardly but firmly as his canes hung from his hands. “And you look quite excellent. Your cheeks… Have you been outside getting exercise?”

“Not exactly, Papa,” she rushed, clearing her throat. “I’d like you to meet someone.”

Her father turned, searching for said person. His eyes were full of the happiness of being greeted by his daughter, and then they focused on Achilles.

“And this is…” Lord Pritchard stopped a moment and then said, “You’re a Briarwood, are you not, Lord Achilles?”

“Yes, Lord Pritchard. That’s correct. How do you do?”

“Well, I do well,” he said despite the reediness of his voice. “But I confess I am curious as to what you are doing in my house.”

“Well, my lord, perhaps we should retire to a room and I can explain it to you there. But I will tell you that it does have to do with your daughter.”

Lord Pritchard’s brows rose. “Does it indeed?”

He nodded solemnly, for this was an important task. And he was determined to show the man that he was serious about it.

For one moment, Aurelia seemed to swing her gaze back and forth, as if she realized the seriousness of the pretense she was taking up. She was about to lie to her father, to trick him, to fool him. And she had to decide in this moment if it was worth it and if it was what she truly wanted.

And then she squeezed her father’s hand. “I think you shall like the conversation very much, Papa.”

Then she took a step back. “And afterwards, perhaps we can take tea together. I would like to hear about Bath very much.”

“Oh, a bunch of sick people drinking terrible water,” her father tsked. “I would much rather hear about what you’ve been doing in London. But yes, pet, let me talk to your young gentleman.”

Lord Pritchard turned and began going towards what Achilles assumed was his study.

Achilles waited but a moment and gave her a wink, an assurance that all would be well. Of course it would. But he felt his spirit sink a little bit as he watched her father walk down the hall. He was not a well man.

He had just returned from a rest cure, yet he looked as if he needed a great deal of rest from the coach trip. Lord Pritchard walked slowly, with a gait that suggested his legs did not work as he wished. His canes tatted at the ground, mixing with the slide of his boots along the wood.

And when they entered the study, Lord Pritchard lowered himself immediately into a green silk-covered chair before the fire and let out a long sigh.

“Dratted journeys. Can’t be bothered with them. I don’t think I’ll be going back to Bath.”

“Was it not good for your health, my lord?” he asked.

Lord Pritchard let out a derisive noise. “I wasn’t jesting when I said that a bunch of sick people all together was not something I wished to discuss. If one wants to be well, one should be with well people,” Lord Pritchard protested.

Achilles smiled. “I won’t argue with you, my lord, but of course it is important to look after one’s health if you’ve been poorly.”

Pritchard waved his wrinkled hand. “Yes, yes. I don’t need another doctor.”

“I am not a doctor,” Lord Achilles said. “I promise you I will not try to cure you, not like that.”

“Good.” Pritchard gave a relieved look. “I’m always getting silly bits of information from people who insist that whatever they have to say will cure me, whatever this dratted ailment is. Now, you’ve clearly taken an interest in my Aurelia, haven’t you?”

“I have.”

Pritchard folded his hands. “Yes. I saw the way you looked at her. It’s most heartening.”

“Is it?” he asked. He wasn’t exactly surprised. He’d never been one to hide his emotions. He could if it was warranted, of course, better than most of his family. But in this, there was no reason to. “I admire your daughter very much.”

“Admire,” Lord Pritchard said. “It is a good word. It is a beginning. But what are you doing here?”

“I wish to ask for her hand in marriage,” he replied, feeling Pritchard would appreciate directness. “And if you must know, I did already ask her.”

“Did you, by God?” Lord Pritchard said. “That’s bold.”

“Well, she is such an independent young woman that I did not think you would mind. You’ve clearly raised her to know her own thoughts on the matter.”

“You’re not mistaken there,” Pritchard replied ruefully. “Sometimes I regret it a bit. We’re glad to hear that you’ve asked her because, frankly, the lady wife and I have recently been concerned that she was going to try to eschew the whole thing altogether and end up a spinster. Alone. There’s nothing terribly wrong with being a spinster, but it’s not for my Aurelia.”

“No?” he asked, curious as to Pritchard’s thoughts.

Pritchard’s lips parted in a loving, almost indulgent smile. “She might think so, but she’s so loving. It’s clear that she wants to take care of people. A family will do her good, and she needs to be taken care of too. Will you take care of her properly?”

Achilles beamed and was surprised by the intensity of his own emotions. “It would give me no greater pleasure than to take care of her and wrap her up into the bosom of my family. My family absolutely loves to take care of people.”

Pritchard grinned, then laughed. “Your family is notorious. I shall have to overlook several things to say yes, but, in general, they are a good sort.”

“Thank you,” Achilles said, not bothering to protest. Why should he when it was the absolute truth? There was no point in arguing with such facts or trying to make things look different than they were. He liked his family, and he refused to apologize for them.

Lord Pritchard seemed to take note of this. “Yes, you’ll raise strong children. I’ll give you that. They’ll never have to apologize for who they are.”

“That’s very true,” Lord Achilles said.

“Well, then, I don’t see why I should say no if she says yes.” Pritchard hesitated then and said with shocking earnestness, “You do think you’ll love her, don’t you?”

He swallowed. He was not inclined to lie. He did not need to. He simply needed to trust. Trust that life was working out for him just as it should. “Indeed, I do.”

Pritchard nodded, pleased, but then his brow furrowed. “I must ask. What has prompted this proposal?”

He tensed for a moment, realizing this question would require more nuance in his answer.

“You are young. Surely, you could—”

“Yes, I could go about as a single gentleman for a great deal of time,” Achilles rushed. “Many people have said this to me. But why would I do that when true happiness lies with your daughter?”

Lord Pritchard’s face changed then, transformed to one of sheer joy. “Good boy,” he said. “Forgive me. I should say good man. You clearly are. But at this moment, I think I might feel a little fatherly towards you, if you don’t mind. You see, I was the same. When I saw her mother, I was only twenty-four years of age.”

He wondered how old that made Lord Pritchard. Whatever his age, his illness had made him look far older than his actual years.

Pritchard let out a relieved sigh, as if a great worry had been taken off his shoulders. “I think you’re a little older than me when I met my wife. But I will tell you this. I knew then that I had to have her. I threw away my bachelor days, and I have never been happier. You’re a very sensible young man, far too sensible for a Briarwood,” he said. “But I am very pleased that you have woken up to the true joys of life.”

Achilles smiled. Yes, he had, and nothing had ever been better.