The Prince's Bride by Victoria Alexander Page B

Shelton sisters in his charge for the season. And then later, this was where they had hatched a somewhat drunken, but nonetheless successful, scheme to convince Lady Marianne to accept Thomas’s proposal of marriage.
    “Are you familiar with her background?” Thomas said casually.
    “Familiar enough, I suppose.” Rand sipped his drink and thought for a moment. “I know her brother, Richard, is the Earl of Shelbrooke and married to your sister, Gillian. I know they are currently somewhere in America awaiting the birth of their first child.”
    “And what of her father?”
    “He was something of a gambler if I recall.”
    Thomas snorted with disdain. “An unsuccessful gambler and in truth a bit of a wastrel. His wife died when the sisters were very young. Afterward the old earl squandered the family fortune and left his daughters, four of them altogether, practically penniless. They grew up in the country, at Shelbrooke Manor, a grand old house once that had fallen into appalling disrepair. Richard used to try to fix things there himself.”
    Thomas leaned forward. “They weren’t complete paupers, you understand. From what Marianne has said, I gather it was a kind of genteel poverty. Richard was rather wild in his youth and not around at all until after his father died. Then he did what he could to recoup the family’s finances but”—Thomas shrugged— “it was not until last year when he married Gillian and they inherited a tidy fortune that the lives of his sisters finally improved.”
    “I didn’t know.”
    “The perfectly attired, elegant, and admittedly spoiled Lady Jocelyn you see today has not had an easy time of it.” Thomas settled back in his chair. “If she revels in her family’s newfound fortune, and indeed views wealth and an impressive title as the path to happiness, I daresay it’s understandable.”
    “I suppose it is.” Rand downed the liquor in his glass and held it out for a refill. It was difficult to reconcile this Lady Jocelyn with the childhood Thomas had described. And difficult as well to equate it to his own. As a boy, he’d never questioned where the money for good food or fine clothing or excellent horses had come from. He’d never had to. “Still, it is an explanation, not an excuse.”
    Thomas started to respond, then held his tongue and instead picked up the decanter on a table beside him and obligingly filled Rand’s glass. Good. Rand preferred not to hear anything else tonight that might put his future wife in a better light. It was his responsibility to keep her safe, and if that meant marriage, so be it. There would be time enough to make peace with the idea, and the lady, later. Tonight he wanted nothing more than to wallow in the self-pity of having to marry a woman not of his own choosing.
    Odd, he’d liked her a great deal more on their first meeting tonight than he did now. And admittedly quite enjoyed kissing her and, more, her reluctant, but present nonetheless, response. Of course, earlier this evening he was saving her life. Now she claimed he was ruining it.
    “Are you taking her to the Abbey then?”
    “No, but I will admit that’s the first place I thought of, and frankly I wouldn’t mind a good long stay.” Rand’s London townhouse was more than comfortable but it was the Abbey, nestled in the hills of Bedfordshire, that he considered home. It had been months since he’d been back. “Especially since my mother is not in residence at the moment.”
    “I gather that would make the Abbey more attractive.”
    Rand blew a short breath. “Infinitely. Every time I see her of late she is compelled to mention her desire to see me wed and the need for a Beaumont heir. She’s driving me mad.”
    “Will she be pleased then about this turn of events?”
    “She would be pleased if I were to bring home a bride with two heads and warts. Given Jocelyn’s family connections I’m certain my mother will be ecstatic.” Rand chuckled. “However, I am also