“You will.”
Bella smiled back at him over her shoulder before setting off. She was relieved. This was exactly what she wanted. So why was she flushed and trembling? Why did the prospect of seeing him again tomorrow make her anxious?
“I wish to marry your daughter.” Rhys exhaled a breath of relief as soon as the words were out.
He sounded believable and his stomach hadn’t plummeted into his boots. He’d been waiting in the Yardleys’ drawing room for what felt like days, though the clock indicated less than half an hour had passed. He’d tested the words on his lips a dozen times. Rephrasing. Practicing various intonations like an actor about to perform on the stage.
Rhys supposed he was a performer of sorts. He knew how to feign laughter, make others happy, and paste on a smile when he was bone weary. But no matter how many times he tested these words on his lips, hearing them echo in the empty drawing room sent a jolt of shock through his body.
“Lord Yardley,” he said aloud, imagining the older man’s kindly gaze on him. “I wish to make Bella my duchess.”
Yes, better to make it personal. Though making it personal also made the subterfuge feel unsavory.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway and he turned toward the door. But no one came. A servant perhaps?
He’d tried sitting but couldn’t remain still. He strode to the window, pushed the drapes aside, and lifted the frame. Some small insistent voice in his head told him to climb out and avoid this mad scheme.
Bloody hell. What had possessed him to agree to an engagement, even a false one? And to Bella of all the women in England. The one woman he didn’t wish to harm or disappoint any more than he already had.
A flash of movement caught his eye and two servants emerged through Hillcrest’s front doors, their arms loaded with luggage. Wentworth came next and cast a longing glance up at the house’s facade before entering the carriage that awaited him.
Was the man looking with that yearning expression at Bella?
“Did you need air or are you considering an escape?”
Rhys smiled at the sound of her voice. There was a tinge of mischief in it that immediately eased his mind.
“You’re ready for this?” he asked as he turned to find her fussing with an enormous vase of flowers on a table near the door. She was dressed in a gold gown that clung to her curves and yet wasn’t frivolous. Always practical Bella.
“I’m ready,” she said, on a breathy whisper, glancing back toward the door as if her parents’ arrival was imminent and she didn’t wish them to hear. “I take it you are too.”
“I am.” Rhys slid a hand across his middle and straightened the buttons of his waistcoat.
“Here they come,” Bella said before opening the drawing room door. “Mama, Papa, won’t you sit?”
Lord Yardley’s gaze narrowed the moment he spotted Rhys. “An early hour for a social call, Claremont.”
“Some things can’t be delayed, Lord Yardley.”
Behind him Bella’s mother beamed at him. Rhys knew that of the two of them the viscountess would take the least convincing.
“Shall we all have a seat?” A bit of nervousness had seeped into Bella’s voice.
“You wish to marry, is that it?” The viscount scanned both their faces.
“Yes,” Rhys answered in the same matter-of-fact tone Yardley asked.
“We do.” Bella’s words were spoken quietly.
Rhys was grateful she hadn’t balked. It made him doubt what they were going to do a tiny bit less.
Her father would definitely take some convincing. The viscount assessed Bella with eyes narrowed behind his spectacles. “This is all very sudden, my girl.”
“Is it?”
“Indeed, and rather convenient too.” This time he lowered his spectacles down his nose and peered first at his daughter then Rhys over the brass rim.
“Seems rather inconvenient to me, Papa.” Bella smiled, trying to put him at ease. “Rhys and I have always been friends. This is new and unexpected.”
“Mmm.” The viscount looked supremely dubious. His frown hadn’t softened and he stroked his beard as he settled back in his chair.
Rhys took a seat across from him and offered a smile when Yardley shot a glance his way.
“I know you well, young man. Or I once did. I watched the two of you ramble through this countryside together for years and get into all manner of mischief.” He worked his jaw as if contemplating and then added, “But you bickered too.”
“We debated,” Bella retorted.
“And she usually won,” Rhys admitted without looking at her.
“Because I was usually right.”
“Either that or I let you win.”
Yardley nodded approvingly. “That is a good precedent, Claremont. Don’t forget that principle.” He grinned at his wife, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet.
“You’ll make each other happy?” Lady Yardley asked the question as if there could be an easy answer.
Rhys was suddenly glad the engagement wasn’t real. He couldn’t make Bella happy. He wasn’t sure he could make any lady happy, at least not for longer than a few evenings of pleasure.
“He could make me very happy,” he heard Bella say, and couldn’t quite believe his ears.
When he looked her way, she shot him a conspiratorial nod. Of course, this was all part of the ruse. Whatever her parents asked, they would reassure them.
“I will make it my mission to make Bella happy.”
Her brows arched at that and he wondered if he’d laid the assurances on too thickly. But when her mother clasped her hands together and smiled, he and Bella both let out a breath of relief.
“Then we should begin planning a wedding.” Lady Yardley stood and rang a little bell on a table next to her chair. “I think refreshments are in order. There is much to discuss.”
“Mama—”
He’d worried about this. Her parents had been waiting so long for this news. It was no surprise that her mother would want to begin planning their nuptials immediately. The very same hour.
“Let me just get some paper and a pen so we may make some notes.”
“I can speak to Vicar Eames. Securing the church before Christmas, especially for a Claremont, will be easy enough.” Yardley turned to Rhys. “Unless you wish to marry in London. That might be a bit more of a challenge to schedule on short notice.”
“There needn’t be short notice,” Bella said in a loud, clear voice. “Rhys and I wish to wait to marry.”
“Wait?” Lady Yardley nearly tripped on the rug on her way back to her chair. “Whatever for?”
Bella swallowed hard and took a long breath. They’d discussed this and knew it would be the crux of her plan. Whether her parents would accept this farce or not relied on this single moment.
“Rhys hopes to put the estate in order and Lady Margaret must have her coming-out this year. There is a great deal to plan without adding a duke’s nuptials to the list.”
“This is most irregular, Bella.”
They’d anticipated how much of a sticking point this would be for Lady Yardley. Rhys scooted forward in his chair, laced his fingers between his knees and summoned the kind of charm he’d employed to get him through most of the tight spots he’d encountered in life.