With His Ring (Brides of Bath Book 2) Read online

  Praise for With His Ring

  Texas Gold's Runner-up for Best Historical Romance 2002

  Highly recommended. – Under the Covers

  Cheryl Bolen does it again! There is laughter, and the interaction of the characters pulls you right into the book. I look forward to the next in this series. 4 Stars – Romantic Times magazine

  With His Ring is a good book. Once you start reading you will not want to put it down. . .The secondary characters are a blast. They will have you laughing right along with Glee's stunts. – The Romance Readers Connection

  If you liked Cheryl Bolen's first installment in her Brides of Bath series set in Regency England, you'll like this one. With His Ring has plenty of sensuality. – Happily Ever After

  * * *

  Glee Pembroke has turned down countless offers of marriage because she has secretly been in love with her brother's best friend, Gregory Blankenship, all her life. When she learns Gregory will lose his considerable fortune if he's not wed by his twenty-fifth birthday, she persuades him to enter into a sham marriage with her. What he doesn't know is that she plans to win his heart. She will do everything in her power to make him happy – including mimicking the ways of a "fast" woman since he's noted for alliances with women of that sort.

  Why did he ever allow himself to marry the maddening Glee? He'd thought they would have great fun, but at every turn, she exasperates him. Why does she persist in wearing the bodice of her dresses so blasted low? Why do other men persist in flirting with her, his wife? And why in the blazes has his heretofore complacent life been turned upside down by this sham marriage? He finds himself longing for a real marriage, but for reasons he cannot divulge, that can never happen.

  eBooks available from award-winning author Cheryl Bolen

  Regency Historical Romance:

  The Brides of Bath Series

  The Bride Wore Blue*

  With His Ring*

  The Bride’s Secret (previously titled A Fallen Woman*

  To Take This Lord (previously titled An Improper Proposal)*

  Love in the Library*

  A Christmas In Bath*

  The Regent Mysteries Series

  With His Lady's Assistance*

  A Most Discreet Inquiry*

  The Theft Before Christmas*

  A Lady by Chance*

  The Earl's Bargain*

  My Lord Wicked*

  His Lordship's Vow*

  Lady Sophia's Rescue

  Christmas Brides (Three Regency Novellas)*

  Marriage of Inconvenience*

  A Duke Deceived*

  One Golden Ring*

  Romantic Suspense:

  Texas Heroines in Peril Series

  Protecting Britannia*

  Murder at Veranda House*

  A Cry In The Night*

  Capitol Offense*

  Falling For Frederick*

  World War II Romance:

  It Had to Be You (Previously titled Nisei)*

  American Historical Romance:

  A Summer To Remember (3 American Romances)

  *Also available in paperback

  With His Ring

  (The Brides of Bath, Book 2)

  By

  Cheryl Bolen

  Copyright © 2011 by Cheryl Bolen

  Smashwords Edition

  With His Ring is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Brides of Bath Series

  Chapter 1

  The prick of a needle should have been so common an occurrence to Glee Pembroke—a most inferior needlewoman—that her stitching rhythm should have continued unbroken. But not today. Throwing her work down, she stomped her kid slipper and nibbled her pricked thumb into her little rosebud mouth. "I simply wasn't cut out for a life buried here at Hornsby Manor," she protested. "Why will my brother not allow me to live by myself in Bath? Other spinsters do."

  Her elegant sister-in-law calmly set aside her own flawless needlework and directed a sympathetic gaze at Glee. "You're not a spinster. You're a nineteen-year-old maiden, and it's not acceptable for you to live alone."

  "I prefer to think of myself as a spinster," Glee protested, her lower lip working into a lovely pout. "After all, I've two seasons behind me and still am not respectably wed."

  Diana shot Glee a scolding glance. "You failed to mention the eight offers of marriage you turned down."

  "Eight and a half—if you count Percy Wittingham, whom I persuaded not to address my brother."

  The impeccable Diana gave a bemused smile. "I know how very dull it must be here for you, with my recent confinement and with Felicity being on the Grand Tour."

  Glee emphatically shook her head. "Nothing—not even a presentation to the queen—could have kept me away from Baby Georgette's birth." Her face softened and her voice grew sweet. "My niece is without a doubt the most precious baby to ever draw breath."

  Diana lowered her lashes, a glow of contentment suffusing her. "George and I think so."

  Glee sighed. "You and George. . .and Felicity and Thomas. . .I'm surrounded by happily besotted married couples, and all I can ever aspire to is being an aunt." Despite the unrivaled success of her two seasons, the one man she had adored since earliest childhood, the only man she could ever truly love, remained as elusive as seraph's wings. Gregory "Blanks" Blankenship was so completely removed from her touch, she had never even given voice to her adulation of him. And if she could not have Blanks, she preferred to die a spinster.

  Diana's eyes softened. "Have patience, Glee. I'm two years older than you, Felicity's seven. If you had truly been desperate, you would have accepted one of those eight and a half proposals. And there will most likely be eight more. You're a very lovely young lady." A smug, mischievous smile settled over Diana's normally placid face. "I know why you could not fall in love with any of those young men." The graceful young mother casually took up her sewing again.

  "Pray, enlighten me," Glee said impatiently. Watching Diana pick up her sewing, Glee was embarrassed to have her own meager snatches of embroidery in the same room with her sister-in-law's meticulous creations. How fortunate she was that Diana was already married, for Glee compared most poorly to her beautiful sister-in-law's perfection.

  "Whether you realize it or not, you have long been in love with a man who has not yet realized how eligible you are," Diana continued.

  Glee's brow arched. "Indeed?"

  Diana nodded. "A young man you've known almost all
of your life, or at least since he and George attended Eton together."

  "Blanks." The name tumbled from Glee's lips almost reverently. How had Diana guessed? She met Diana's gaze squarely. "You realize in Mr. Gregory Blankenship's eyes I will always be twelve years old."

  Diana nodded. "It is for you to force him to notice otherwise."

  Glee pulled her shawl more closely about her and rose from the silk damask chair to stride to the fireplace and its crackling warmth. With her back to Diana, she said, "Then, too, there's the fact that Mr. Blankenship has never been attracted to decent young ladies. Does he not keep a mistress?"

  "You are not supposed to know of such things!" Diana chided.

  "Perhaps if I acted like a doxy Blanks would find me appealing."

  "Then you do care for him!"

  Glee sighed, bit her lip, then met her sister-in-law's probing gaze with an embarrassed nod.

  Had Diana known that Glee compared every man to Blanks, and they all came up wanting? It was not just that he was taller and better looking than all the others. Or that he was enormously wealthy and displayed incomparable taste. Or that he was a noted whip. Though he was all those things, he was so much more.

  He was uncommonly personable and solicitous of all he met. It had been Blanks—not her own brother—who extracted her first tooth. And Blanks had been the one to console her when her favorite dog had died. And with a peculiar racing in her heart, she remembered a twelve-year-old Blanks proudly carrying her back to the manor house after she had tumbled from a tree and hurt her foot.

  She remembered, too, that his ready smile could fill the gloomiest day with warm sunshine. She shuddered even now as she pictured his devastating grin.

  Diana smiled like the cat who caught the canary. "When Blanks is ready to settle down, he will want a good girl, not a doxy."

  Glee turned around to face Diana. "Despite that I'm five years younger than he, this red hair of mine could turn quite gray by the time Mr. Gregory Blankenship decides to settle down. To know Blanks is to know of his complete aversion to marriage and children—and his inability to admit he might be wrong about anything."

  Diana nodded. "But George had no intentions of settling down when he met me. Love, my dear, has a way of changing things—even a bachelor's toughest resolve."

  How remarkably love had changed her brother, Glee thought. Not a day went by Glee did not marvel over George's metamorphosis from heavy drinking, wildly gaming rake to besotted husband and devoted father. Of course, it had helped that he removed himself from his hedonistic friends in Bath and settled at Hornsby Manor. "It's as likely that Blanks will suddenly fall in love with me as it is that faro and the races at Newmarket will cease to hold his interest. Not like George with you. I could almost see Cupid's arrow snare George's heart the minute he set eyes on you. And I assure you, my brother planned to stay a bachelor until he was thirty."

  Glee's gaze dropped to the hearth where the flames leaped in a blaze of yellow and orange and blue. "Of course, I'm not adverse to offering Cupid a little encouragement—where Blanks is concerned." She looked mischievously at Diana. "Tell me, does George have a book that tells one. . ." She turned her back to Diana once again. "Tells one about sex. You know, how to go about it and all that."

  She turned to face Diana, who had suddenly colored, and watched Diana intently for a moment.

  Finally, Diana answered in an embarrassed voice. "I'm sure I've never heard of such a book."

  "Then how do you know what to do?"

  Diana avoided meeting Glee's gaze. Taking up her sewing again, she cleared her throat. "I suppose it's somewhat like breathing. It seems to come automatically—provided one is in love with one's partner."

  The large door creaked open, and George came striding into the room. He was blond and burly and young and exuberant. And completely in love with his wife. His dancing eyes settled on Diana. "What comes automatically?"

  The two young women exchanged amused glances.

  George planted a kiss on Diana's cheek.

  She looked up at him with adoring eyes. "Falling in love, my dearest."

  He glanced at Glee. "Is Glee in love again?"

  With narrowed eyes, Glee faced her brother. "Please don't speak of the idiotic act I was party to when I was a child of seventeen."

  "Yes, George," Diana urged, "Glee's nothing like that girl who wanted to run off with her dancing master. She's ever so much more mature now."

  "I'm utterly grateful no one outside our family knows of my former foolishness," Glee said.

  "As am I," George agreed.

  Glee's serious gaze nabbed her brother. "Surely you remember I was never in love with that moron dancing master."

  George nodded sympathetically.

  Glee strode to the door. "I shall leave you two lovebirds alone while I take a walk. The only thing better here than in Bath is that here I can walk without a maid."

  * * *

  Company was thin in Bath this winter, Gregory "Blanks" Blankenship lamented as he flipped a woolen scarf about his neck with one hand while maneuvering the reins to his gig with the other. How he missed good old George. There was nothing they could not persuade the pleasure-loving fellow to do—especially when he was in his cups. Gregory chuckled to himself as he recalled the time Appleton dared George to drink a tankard of hog's urine—which George promptly did, earning a fat five pounds from Gregory.

  Remembering his solemn mission today, Gregory's smile vanished. He pulled his gig in front of his solicitor's place of business, eyeing a waiting young boy facing him from the pavement.

  Coatless with a single toe poking through a hole of his well-worn shoes, the lad fairly bounced in front of Gregory, a wide smile revealing missing front teeth. He must be around six years old, Gregory decided.

  "Morning, Gov'nah," the boy said.

  Gregory leaped to the pavement and addressed the lad. "I'll wager you're a young man who has a way with horses. Keep an eye on mine, and there's a crown in it for you." Gregory knew a crown was an exorbitant amount to pay for so menial a task, but the boy looked as if he could certainly use it.

  The lad's eyes rounded. "Right, Gov'nah! I ain't never seen a crown before." The little fellow took the reins and began to gently stroke the gray, speaking soothing words as Gregory mounted the steps.

  Upstairs, Mr. Willowby's young clerk greeted Gregory. "Good morning, Mr. Blankenship. 'Twas sorry I was to learn of your father's death."

  Gregory, who’d had six weeks to become accustomed to the idea of his father's demise, acknowledged the man's condolences with a grim nod before withdrawing a guinea from his pocket and slapping it on the man's desk. "Be a good man, won't you, and see to it the little urchin who hangs about in front of your building gets a warm coat and new shoes."

  The clerk took the coin, pushed back his chair and got up to walk to the window and peer out at the child. A light snow was beginning to fall. "His mum cleans for us, and I don't believe he has a father. Poor lad."

  The door to Willowby's office opened, and a slender, pointed chin man spoke to Gregory. "Won't you step into my office, Mr. Blankenship?"

  Gregory followed him into the chamber and settled in a chair facing Willowby across an immaculate desk.

  "I asked you to come today because I wanted to talk to you privately before we meet with the entire family," Willowby said.

  Gregory cocked a brow.

  Willowby cleared his throat and met Gregory's quizzing gaze with openness. "I wanted to prepare you."

  Gregory's brows lowered. "Prepare me for what?"

  Willowby expelled a deep sigh. "Your late father's will is a bit unusual."

  Gregory shifted in his chair. His heart began to pound. Somehow, he knew this was not going to be pleasant. Not removing his eyes from Willowby, he said, "Go on."

  "The last time I saw your father, he was somewhat out of charity with you. He kept mumbling that you were entirely too ... ah, unsettled."

  Gregory nodded.

&
nbsp; "You'll have the opportunity to read his exact words, but they were something to the effect that he did not want you to squander away his money on your frivolous pursuits."

  "So, he's cut me out of the will."

  Mr. Willowby hesitated a moment. "Not exactly. According to your father's latest will, if you are not married by your twenty-fifth birthday, all properties will go to the next eldest, your half-brother Jonathan."

  "The good one!" Gregory interjected, his ever-present smile spreading across his face. Not that he was happy. The smile was to conceal his pain, a mask cultivated from years of practice with his stepmother who resented that he—not her own son—would inherit her husband's wealth. So, Gregory thought with sorrow, Jonathan would get the Blankenship fortune after all. Their sedate father had always preferred Jonathan, and probably with justification. Jonathan was just like their father. Serious. Frugal. And incapable of having fun. In short, totally opposite of Gregory.

  Gregory scooted back his chair. "I'm grateful that you let me in on my father's scheme," he said, rising and striding toward the door.

  Mr. Willowby cleared his throat. "How old are you now, Mr. Blankenship?"

  Gregory stopped and turned to watch Willowby's amused gaze. "I'll be twenty-five in June."

  "It's not too late for you to comply with the terms of your father's will."

  "To get married?" Gregory's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  Willowby nodded.

  "But I've got less than four months and no prospective bride." Nor did he desire a bride. Ever.