Page 16 of The Pleasures of Passion
Fulkham turned to Niall. “You know, old boy, you’re the only one who can pull this off—the only one who knows her well enough to make it work. And if you do this one thing for me, we’ll consider everything else even. I won’t ask anything like this of you again.”
Deuce take the bastard. Fulkham knew exactly how to tempt him.
And in truth, this scheme was nothing compared to what he’d done and seen in Porto. He wouldn’t even be balking if not for the fact that it was Bree he’d have to spend time with.
But perhaps that was actually a good reason to accept. If he got to know her for the scheming chit she really was and not the sweet girl he’d foolishly invented and fallen in love with, he might finally be able to purge her from his thoughts. Nothing like a dose of reality to banish a dream that wouldn’t die.
“Very well,” Niall said. “I’ll do it. As long as you swear this is the last time.”
Relief crossed Fulkham’s face. “You have my word.”
“Good.” Now that Niall had agreed to the scheme, he’d best get the details of the plan straight. “So, what you want is for Brilliana to introduce me to her father as her fiancé, and me to insinuate myself into his circles.”
“Exactly.”
“What if he won’t see me?” Bree asked.
Fulkham snorted. “Has he tried to call on you since you’ve been in London?”
She tipped up her chin. “A few times, yes. I refused to admit him.”
“Why?” Niall asked, still shocked by the depth of her bitterness toward the man.
A veil came down over her features. “Because his only reason to see me was undoubtedly to elicit money from me or my aunt. I refused to submit her to that, and I personally didn’t have it to give him, anyway.”
Niall had a sneaking suspicion there was more to the story than she was letting on. The man was herfather, for God’s sake.
“I’m sure Sir Oswald has another reason for trying to see you.” Obviously Fulkham had had the same thought as Niall. The baron regarded her with a steady glance. “He probably wants to meet his grandson.”
“That’s precisely why I didn’t want them to meet. Because my father would try to use him, too, if he could.” Panic flashed in her eyes. “Oh no, and now you want me to . . . to let Papa back into my life? How can I allow Silas to be around his grandfather, knowing that the man is a criminal?”
“Mightbe a criminal,” Fulkham corrected her. “We’re not sure yet. Besides, if the boy is only sixteen months old, he won’t remember him later.”
Bree rose to wander the room, clearly agitated. “There are other issues, too. My father isn’t stupid. He’s likely to find it suspicious that after turning him away repeatedly, I’m suddenly interested in renewing the connection.”
“That’s where Margrave comes in.” The undersecretary turned to Niall. “Say whatever you must to put Sir Oswald at ease. Tell him you insisted upon meeting her father, that you persuaded her to mend fences, that you want his approval. I don’t think it will be hard to convince him. I’m sure he’ll find it understandable that his daughter’s impending marriage would alter how she regards her father.”
“Then he doesn’t know his daughter very well,” she said.
Niall stifled a laugh. That was one way Bree hadn’t changed. She was still stubborn. Whatever had caused the rift between her and her father wouldn’t easily be forgiven or forgotten. It must really stick in her craw to have to be part of this.
He could understand that. “So, we meet with Sir Oswald. Then what? A public announcement of our betrothal?”
“You two can figure that out as you go along. If Sir Oswald presses for such a thing—or seems suspicious that the engagement isn’t genuine—then do it. If not, feel free to keep it private as long as you can.” Fulkham glanced at Bree, and his expression softened. “I doubt Mrs. Trevor will want the scandal that goes with a broken engagement if she can avoid it.”
Bree lifted her chin. “Being known as a jilt will hardly affect me, since I’ve no desire to marry again.”
That surprised Niall. “You expect us to believe that a woman of your youth and beauty, with a young son who needs a father, would choose to remain alone the rest of her life?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I have no reason to remarry and, quite frankly, see no point in it.”
How could that be?
He scowled. Unless she was still so in love with her late husband that she believed no one could ever take his place in her heart.
The thought tightened a vise about his chest . . . until the cynical part of him reasserted itself. Her sort didn’t fall in love. They were too busy seeing what they could get. Which reminded him . . . “If you’re so determined not to marry, why is your aunt providing you with a dowry?”
“I don’t know,” Bree snapped. “Why don’t you ask her? It wasn’tmyidea, I assure you. I’m not in your situation, sir. I don’t need a wife to bear my heir. In fact, you might suffer more from the scandal of a jilting than I would. So it’s reallyyourdecision how to handle our faux betrothal.”
