His Contract Bride (Banks Brothers Brides 1)(28)

John nodded.

"I've already told you that I do not think this will be the blemish on your reputation as a vicar you're imagining it to be."

"It's not even that."

Edward sighed. Between John and Regina, he didn't know who was more  vague. "All right, are you afraid you've lost all of your friends'  respect because you didn't bed her?"

"No."

"Then what the devil is the problem?"

"You."

"Me?" Edward asked, slapping his open palm against his chest.

John found something about his boots that seemed to be of great interest  and studied it for a moment before finding the right words to speak.  "Have you...er...changed your opinion of me?"

Ah, so that's what was troubling him. "No, John. I haven't." Edward  scuffed his boot along the bottom edge of a nearby table leg. "Would it  matter to you if I had?"

"Yes." He swallowed audibly. "I know most boys crave the respect of  their fathers, but not me. It was always your approval I sought. Not  his."

The unspoken reasons for John's statements hung between them. "You can't  blame him completely," he said softly. "He couldn't know she'd be such  an awful mother, too."

"No, but he could have been a better father." He flicked his wrist through the air. "It doesn't matter anymore, does it?"

"It never did."

"To you perhaps." John propped his elbow up on the end table next to him  and leaned his head against his hand. "At least he was a father to you,  for a while. I have doubts he ever even knew my middle name."

Edward swore under his breath. John was right though, on both accounts.  Father had been more for Edward than any of the others. John, being so  much younger than Edward, had never had much of a chance to know his  father before Mother died. "It's little consolation, I realize, but I  know your full name, John, and your birthdate."

"I know you do. You might be deplorable when it comes to your own wife, but you were always a good older brother."

Despite himself, Edward laughed. "With any luck, there's still hope for me on that score, too."

John made a face similar to what he'd have made at fourteen if someone  was talking about ways to woo their wives. "What was it you came here to  say, anyway?"

Right. He'd almost forgotten. "I've decided to take a trip to Watson  Estate for a few days and wanted to ask you to answer any questions the  servants have in regards to the meeting I'll be hosting when I return.  There shouldn't be any, but in case one arises, I'd like you to answer  it."

John groaned. "Do you not trust Lady Watson to oversee the placement of the furniture retrieved from the attic?"

"I do. But she'll be with me at Watson Estate."

"Oh?" John questioned, waggling his eyebrows.

Edward scowled at him. "Stop that. It's perfectly acceptable for a man to take his wife with him for a few days in the country."

"I know. But it seems you've been spending a lot of time with her as of late."

"That was your suggestion, was it not?"                       
       
           



       

"In a matter of speaking, it was. But I didn't think you'd follow it. I  assumed you'd find something she enjoyed doing and tolerate it every now  and then to appease her. Though he's reluctant to admit it, it seems  Lord Sinclair uses that tactic."

"Tennis," Edward muttered, curling up his lip in disgust. "She seemed to  enjoy that fairly well, but I don't think she liked it well enough to  enjoy tennis lessons." Heaven knew he'd hate to be subjected to a fate  of tennis lessons.

"I can see where that might be a problem with a heavy skirt and all,"  John mused. "Have you considered introducing her to pall mall?"

"Absolutely not," Edward said adamantly. "I might not care for tennis,  but I abhor pall mall. I'm sure I'll introduce her to the game, at some  point. Ideally, after we have a few offspring who are old enough to play  with her, so I don't have to."

"It's not so bad."

Grimacing, Edward said, "Perhaps not. But I detest the game and cannot  fathom why anyone enjoys it." John was right, though; Regina would  probably enjoy pall mall better than tennis. She seemed not to mind  playing lawn chess at Ridge Water, even if she didn't know the rules. If  his next plan failed, he'd buy a confounded pall mall set. Until then,  he'd pray that wouldn't be necessary.

"Tell me something, Edward? Did Regina really have such a terrible time  playing tennis, or is there another reason you're taking her with you to  the country?"

Edward dropped his elbows to his knees and bent forward. Since when had  his youngest brother grown so damn perceptive? He was only fourteen. He  was supposed to be ignorant and causing trouble. He undoubtedly was  doing his share of the second due to his lack of the first. Even so, he  wasn't supposed to know so much. The truth was Regina had enjoyed  tennis. From the looks of it, she appeared to enjoy it just as much as  he enjoyed getting a new shipment of plants from the Amazon. Which was  fine-excellent, even, but what if there was something they both enjoyed  doing?

He shook his head. When had this become about finding things for them to  do together? He just wanted to make amends for his part in the  deception that hurt her.

"Edward?"

His head shot up. "Yes?"

"A man can only fight so long before his heart makes him surrender."

"What the devil are you talking about?" His eyes narrowed on the book  John had been reading when he came in. "Have you been reading the book  of Proverbs again?"

"Of course, I need to be well versed on the advice I give to my wayward  parishioners. How fortunate for me that I'll be very well practiced  after living with you until I'm eighteen."

"Put the Bible down and get to sleep, John. You're only fourteen, not forty."

John intertwined his fingers and placed his hands on the back of his  head, leaning back in the chair. "Oh how I wish I were." A smile took  his face as if he were lost in a dream. "My life will be so much simpler  then. I'll be a quiet country vicar with a nice quiet wife and children  who never get into trouble and drink up my advice as if it were punch."

Edward snorted. "That's what's called a fantasy. Most men reserve those  to dream about beautiful women joining them in their bed because they  can't charm one there in real life. If I had to wager what your life  will be like at forty, I'd say you'll be married to a lady who has the  ability to drive you mad and have a brood of urchins who defy you at  every turn."

"I think not," John said with a scowl.

"What was that you said a minute ago? Oh, right, 'A man can only fight  so long before his heart makes him surrender.' I predict you'll find out  the truth of that statement soon enough." An image of a young girl who  used to have a heavy dose of calf-love for John came to mind. "Say, do  you remember Rebecca Klammer?"

"Do not ever mention that name to me again," John said.

Edward tried to contain his smile. "Didn't Mother make you entertain her when Mrs. Klammer came to visit Mother?"

"Yes." John's lips twisted as if the memory brought him great pain. "No  matter what I did, she'd clap her hands, jump around, and try to kiss me  as if I'd just won freedom in the gladiator arena."

"She sounds charming."

"She wasn't."

"Don't fight it, John. You enjoyed her attention just like you'll enjoy  your wife's, and I will be right there to delight in your heart's  surrender."

"No maddening lady will have the ability to make me surrender, I guarantee it."

"But if it's what the heart wants..." Edward trailed off and walked to  the door before John had the opportunity to goad Edward about what his  heart wanted; because honestly, he didn't know anymore. And that was the  reason his father had arranged his marriage for him.                       
       
           



       





~Chapter Twenty-One~





"Good morning, Regina," Edward greeted before Regina could fully cross the threshold into the breakfast room.

"Good morning to you, too, Edward."

"I've a surprise for you today." Ah, that explained why a grin larger  than the stiff, white crescent along the right shoulder of her nightgown  was splitting his face.

"You do?"

"That I do." He stood and walked to the sideboard with her.

She allowed him to help her fix her plate. "There's something I need to talk to you about first."

"Does it have anything to do with the breakfast, your duty as baroness, Lady Sinclair's demands or anything of the like?"