Make Me Love You by Johanna Lindsey
Although his own mother was trying to make the best of a bad situation, he knew she still grieved deeply for Ella and would be reminded of her loss whenever she saw Brooke. These misgivings continued to plague him.
“Your bride-to-be doesn’t look very happy talking to that woman,” Archer remarked casually as he fell into step beside Dominic.
Dominic stopped to glance back at Brooke. “That’s her mother. She said she didn’t like her family, but then she’s said a lot of things and I haven’t a clue what’s true or not.”
“Now that’s a nasty statement, old chap. You won’t make progress if you’re going to doubt everything she says.”
What progress? Dominic wondered. “She baldly admitted she’s used to hiding her feelings. At least she was on the up-and-up about that.”
“Or perhaps that was a lie?” But Archer suddenly laughed. “And here I thought I envied you when I clapped eyes on her tonight. You said she was pretty. That simply doesn’t describe your fiancée. Introduce us. I wouldn’t give a bloody damn if she’s hiding things.”
“No.”
Still staring transfixed at Brooke, Archer offered, “I’d be happy to whisk her away for you, out of the country. You can say she was kidnapped. It would be true. No blame on you, then, eh?”
“Just the loss of everything I own.”
“So I could wait until after the nuptials before I rid you of this thorn.”
“She’s not a thorn,” Dominic mumbled. “But you’re becoming a nuisance. Do go away.”
Dominic walked away first, knowing his friend wouldn’t. Since Dominic had met Brooke, she’d filled his mind in every way. He’d even come close a few times to thinking he could do more than tolerate her. That night they’d spent together, she’d ignited his passions and satisfied him so completely. It would be so easy to love her if . . . If! There were far too many of those. Yet here he was approaching another woman with Brooke’s blessing to be unfaithful to her because of that silly bargain of hers that he didn’t understand.
He’d had every intention of embracing her bargain if it was what she wanted, but he was just realizing belatedly that he didn’t want to. Just then his path was blocked, and everything he’d felt the day Brooke arrived at his home returned to him.
The Prince Regent with three of his sycophants just behind him stood in Dominic’s way. And looking quite the dandy as usual in his chartreuse satin tailcoat with extrawide lapels and fashionable white trousers. The long length of the pants had apparently been invented by the Regent’s good friend Beau Brummell, so of course he would wear them. Most of London already copied Brummell’s unique style. Even the Regent’s lacy cravat was likely Brummell’s doing, fluffed up exceedingly high, probably to conceal the Prince’s double chins. But the man was nearing fifty. No fancy clothes could hide the dissipation of his life.
Dominic had known the royal might put in an appearance tonight; he’d just hoped he wouldn’t. And Prinny, as his friends called him, had obviously already been in the ballroom before Dominic and Brooke got there; the commotion his arrival always caused would have alerted Dominic otherwise. Which was too bad. Prior warning would have given him time to mask what he was currently feeling.
“I wasn’t told she was a beauty,” the Prince remarked, looking beyond Dominic at Brooke, before smiling at Dominic. “You must be pleased.”
“You would not care to know what I am, Highness.”
Dominic said it so coldly, the Regent looked a little nervous.
“Yes, well, at least you are complying. Carry on.”
The small group continued on their way along the edges of the dance floor. Dominic didn’t move a muscle, fighting off emotions that could get him hung. To think his life could be changed utterly just because that man couldn’t live on the fortune Parliament already granted him; he had to spend that and mount up debts that would have long since landed any other man in debtors’ prison.
Dominic glanced back to make sure the Regent wasn’t heading toward Brooke. He wasn’t. One look at her helped to rid Dominic of his rage. Ironic. She usually caused it, but not tonight.
He continued on toward Charlotte Ward. He’d heard that she’d remarried not long after their brief one-week affair; he just couldn’t remember what her new husband’s name was. Blond with light blue eyes, she was exceptionally pretty, yet she hadn’t held his interest for long. Too mercurial in her moods, too clinging. Or had that been Melissa? Too many mistresses; he supposed he might be getting a little jaded.
“Charlotte.” He took her hand to kiss the back of her fingers politely before he waved a hand at the dance floor. “Shall we?”
She gave him a brilliant smile and accepted his arm. But they’d only twirled twice before she looked at him with her brow raised to say sulkily, “It took you long enough to come back to me after Priscilla. I can’t imagine what you saw in her. By the by, she’s here.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” He didn’t try to spot Priscilla Highley in the crowd when it was all he could do to not glance toward Brooke again to see if she was watching this performance.
Charlotte huffed. “Don’t pretend you have eyes only for me with a fiancée that looks like yours does.”
It was true, no one there could hold a candle to Brooke Whitworth. If he was going to plow through old mistresses and find new ones, it was going to be hard to explain why he might prefer anyone to his own wife.
For the moment he evaded with “It’s complicated, arranged, you might say.”
That made her laugh. “So you’re getting your final oats sowed before the wedding?”
Charlotte would apparently be willing to start up their affair again even though she had remarried. But he found himself choosing a different course. “Actually, I need a favor if you wouldn’t mind—and remember we parted amicably.”
She gave a good semblance of a pout. “I pretended. I was crushed.”
He managed not to laugh. “Is that why you married again so quickly?”
She grinned even as she waved a dismissive hand. “He’s incredibly rich. How could I not?”
“That you’re no longer a widow makes you off-limits, I’m afraid.”
“Must you have scruples?” She sighed. “Fine, what favor can I do for you, darling?”
“Slap me and look angry when you do it.” She laughed instead, forcing him to add, “Please.”
“You’re serious? But whatever for?”
“As I said, complicated. But consider, if you really were crushed when we parted, then it’s long overdue, isn’t it?”
“When you put it that way . . .” She cracked her palm across his cheek.
Chapter Forty-Eight
BROOKE NEVER DID GET an answer from her mother. Two of Harriet’s London friends had converged on them immediately for introductions and some sly prying questions. Brooke didn’t know them, didn’t want to know them, and certainly wasn’t going to explain how she came to be engaged to a man who’d tried to kill her brother. Harriet evaded explaining as well, though she managed not to be rude about it.
Then Dominic was back and leading Brooke back to the dance floor to finish the set that his previous partner had just walked off on. Brooke was bristling. She blamed it on her mother’s being there, not because Dominic had just propositioned that woman.
“I hope that hurt,” Brooke said without looking at him. It would be a fulminating glare if she did, and she didn’t want him to know she was bristling.
“Why?”
She groaned to herself, but she had a ready answer for him. “Because you failed, of course.”
“I expected you to be deep in conversation with your mother,” he replied nonchalantly. “So you weren’t supposed to see that.”
“Everyone probably saw it, or at least heard it. And my mother has too many friends here, so she barely said a word to me and certainly didn’t distract me from watching your progress—or lack thereof. At least she didn’t see it. Just what did you say to that woman to make her rebuf
He shrugged offhandedly. “The obvious. It either works or it doesn’t.”
“How often do you get slapped?”
“Not often.”
She huffed. “I’m not going to get any new thoroughbreds this way. Maybe you should use a little more finesse, you know, dance with them a few times, get to know them a little if you don’t already know them.”
“I was merely humoring you, since she was your choice. Charlotte and I actually have history. In fact, a number of my ex-acquaintances are here tonight. But, discounting them, there are still a few women tonight that I haven’t met yet—if you want me to continue.”
She didn’t, but she couldn’t say that, so she forced herself to nod. He seemed not to care either way, yet the “bargain” had abruptly turned his nasty new suspicions to amusement the other night. It continued to distract him, too. And she’d rather have the amusement even if it was at her expense, at least until after the wedding. She definitely didn’t want him cold and forbidding on that night. She was still holding out hope that the nuptials would change something between them. Think of the horses, she advised herself, think just of the horses.
He left her with her mother again before he went off to find another lady to dance with. Brooke stared daggers at his back as he walked away before she started kicking herself mentally. He’d just given her an out from that absurd bargain and she hadn’t taken it. What was wrong with her?! But eventually he would be unfaithful to her anyway, wouldn’t he? Because she’d failed to make him love her. So she had to stop getting so, so—furious about it.
“We can have a word now,” Harriet said. “Shall we step out onto the terrace for some privacy?”
Brooke took her eyes off Dominic to see that Harriet’s friends had moved on. Brooke followed her outside before she accused, “I thought you didn’t know Dominic Wolfe a’tall.”
“I don’t recall meeting him years ago, but a stripling is nothing like a man. If I had known him, I wouldn’t have been so distraught—”
Brooke interrupted coldly, “Don’t pretend to feelings you don’t have, Mother. And what are you doing here?”
Harriet winced before she sighed. “Your father had business in town. I expect we’ll only be here for a few days. Thomas suggested I come here tonight to find out how the ton was reacting to the news of the forced marriage. He wanted me to assure people that we are happy to comply with the Regent’s request to give you to Dominic in marriage. Why aren’t you married yet?”
“Dominic was badly wounded in that last duel and got a delay because of it.”
Harriet glanced toward the ballroom. “He heals quickly, doesn’t he? Your handiwork?”
Brooke raised a curious brow. “You know I’m familiar with healing herbs?”
“Of course I do. You may not have confided much to me over the years, but your maid did.”
“Then why did you never ask us to ease your husband’s pain?”
Harriet snorted. “Because your father doesn’t deserve anything from you—or do you love him just because he’s your father?”
“Are you joking? He was just a man who was occasionally present in the house I lived in—one I avoided. What reason was I ever given to love him?”
“Exactly.”
“But you did despite his callous indifference.”
Brooke felt comfortable making that condemnation. The one she couldn’t utter was to include Harriet in her previous remark no matter if it was true, that she’d never been given a reason to love Harriet, either.
But Harriet surprised her. “What makes you think I ever loved him? I admit I had hoped to when I was still young, but it never happened. I adapted instead, learned to tiptoe around his rages, and made him think I was just as callous as he is. It’s unfortunate that there are people like Thomas in the world, incapable of love, incapable of being loved. I hope Lord Wolfe isn’t like that.”
No, Dominic was nothing like that. At least he loved his family, had been willing to risk his life to avenge the sister he’d loved, had recklessly raced to London he was so worried about the mother he loved. If he could ever feel even half that for her, she could probably be happy.
But all she said to Harriet was “He’s a good man who cares about friends and family.”
Harriet smiled. “When is the wedding to be, then?”
“Sunday.”
“May I come?”
Brooke shook her head. “That’s not a good idea. He and his mother both despise us Whitworths. You can thank your son for that.”
Harriet frowned. “So you are hated?”
“How could I not be when my brother got his sister pregnant. Robert laughed, you know, when she told him. Laughed! It’s tragic that she killed herself because of it.”
“That’s . . . horrible.”
Harriet did look aggrieved, causing Brooke to ask, “You really didn’t know?”
“No, I didn’t. I don’t think your father knew either. There was another young lady last year we did find out about when her father came to demand Robert marry her. But Thomas didn’t want that alliance and managed to buy their silence instead, before it became a scandal. I believe she was convinced to go abroad to have the child. I had hoped they would give it to us, but Thomas didn’t want it. It’s appalling that it will be given to strangers instead and I will never get to know my grandchild.”
Brooke was speechless. It was like listening to someone she’d never before met. Regret for a bastard her precious Robert had obviously refused to take responsibility for? How many more bastards were there that her brother had carelessly created before Thomas had put his foot down? Actually, Thomas had only forbidden Robert from seducing any more innocent debutantes. He’d placed no restrictions on the rest of the women in England.
But then Harriet added angrily, “If your father has to deal with another of Robert’s scandals, there will be consequences.”
Brooke blinked, wasn’t even sure what Harriet meant until she realized she was referring to what Brooke had just said about Dominic’s sister. “What consequences?”
“Thomas promised to disown him.”
Brooke almost laughed, but still said sarcastically, “Really? The precious heir?”
“You don’t know how angry Thomas was. I’m quite sure he meant it.”
“And how will that matter once Thomas is dead?” Brooke demanded. “He’s old. He doesn’t have that many more years before him. And then there will be nothing to curb Robert’s nefarious tendencies.”
“Nefarious? He’s not a villain. Prone to the same rages your father has and a bit of a rake apparently, but—”
Eyes flared wide, Brooke asked incredulously, “Do you even know your son?”
Harriet looked back toward the ballroom and blatantly evaded the question. “This was to be our triumph tonight. Have you even noticed that the men here can barely take their eyes off of you?”
Brooke hadn’t noticed that, but her eyes had passed over the room when she’d been trying not to watch what Dominic was doing. She noted quite a few handsome men were present. She’d even guessed she might have fallen in love tonight—if she had come here with her mother. One of them even winked at her when her eyes had passed over him. It hadn’t made her blush. It probably should have, but it had simply had no effect on her.
Her mother wasn’t done. “Yet because you are affianced to the wolf, they won’t approach. But he can’t keep his eyes off of you, either, even though he’s dancing with someone else. Why is he doing that?”
Brooke was able to spot Dominic through the open terrace doors. He was dancing with a third lady, yet another pretty one, too. “Courtesy,” she lied with gritted teeth, still staring at him. “They are friends of his mother’s.”
With raised brow, Harriet turned back to her to ask pointedly, “A bit young to be Anna Wolfe’s friends, aren’t they? You don’t mind?”
Brooke barely heard the question. Dominic just got slapped again! She
Harriet sighed. “Robert lied to us. I didn’t realize such a horrific tragedy was the reason for the duels. I didn’t think Lord Wolfe would hate you.”
That was a strong word. It had applied, but Brooke wasn’t sure if it still did, and said, “I’m tolerated, or I was, until Robert showed up and tried to get me to poison him—and made sure to mention to Dominic that I would.”
Harriet actually blanched. “You wouldn’t.”
“If that’s a question, then you don’t know me any more than you—”
“It wasn’t.”
“But that is your son, Mother. Vicious, capable of murder, lacking any moral fiber or scruples. There’s not a good thing that can be said about him except that he is handsome. A pity, that. He should look as wicked as he truly is. And not another word about that toad.”
“Then shall we discuss how jealous you are?”
“Of Robert?” Brooke snorted. “Don’t be absurd.”
“I meant of your husband-to-be.” When Brooke looked away, Harriet added, “No? Well, I need a drink. I suspect you do, too. Shall we?”
Why not? Brooke followed Harriet back inside the ballroom to one of the refreshment tables set about the edges of the room and was amazed when her mother drained a glass of champagne down to the last drop. So she didn’t hesitate to do the same thing. Jealous? Was that why she couldn’t stop bristling?
Chapter Forty-Nine
“THAT LAST ONE IS possible.”
Brooke swung around to see that Dominic had finally remembered that he had a fiancée in the room. And how businesslike he sounded. Considering what she’d witnessed, again, it took every bit of will she had not to slap him herself.