The Rejected Suitor

The

Rejected Suitor

-Book 1-   

The Clearbrook Series

by

Teresa McCarthy

THE REJECTED SUITOR

Copyright © Teresa
McCarthy, 2004

All rights reserved

First published in
print by Signet, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin
Group (USA) Inc., April 2004

Ebook, February 2012, Teresa McCarthy

Cover Art, LFD Designs For Authors

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored,
copied, or transmitted without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Chapter One

H
ow dare they do this! If they thought
to dictate whom she would marry without a word from her, as if she were a mere
child toddling about their knees, then they had better think again. This was
intolerable!

Seated
at the lavish dining table of Elbourne Hall, Lady Emily Clearbrook clenched the
folds of her gown and leveled a withering gaze toward her four older brothers.
"Did it ever occur to you, gentlemen, that I should have been consulted
about this monumental decision?"

Without
a word, her eldest brother, Roderick, the twenty-seven-year-old Duke of Elbourne,
finally looked her way, blinked lazily, and lifted his wineglass to his lips. 

Emily
bristled. Guardian, indeed! That indolent look said it all. Roderick would not be
moved. Advancement was impossible. Yet retreat was unthinkable. His guardianship
of her was maddening.

Moreover,
Clayton, Marcus, and Stephen were following his lead as if they always went
along with his dictates, a ludicrous assumption to say the least. As for
Roderick including all her brothers in this decision, it was a cunning move
worthy of Wellington himself. They were acting as if she had four guardians now
instead of one.

She
softened her gaze, trying to conceal her turbulent emotions. "This entire
arrangement is quite intolerable. If any of you had consulted me first—"

"Consulted
you?" Roderick said abruptly, raising his right brow in censure. "And
pray, why the devil would we be consulting you? You are our baby sister. There
is no consulting to be done. The four of us will take care of the matter
entirely. We are merely informing you of our decision."

"But
Father would have let me choose," she said, impatiently.

Roderick's
lips thinned. "Father died three years ago, leaving your future in our hands.
Count yourself fortunate that all your brothers have returned home from the war
intact."

Oh, she
loved her brothers. Indeed, she did. But Roderick seemed to be using her
vulnerability to his advantage, and she would not have it. "I am well
aware that we have been blessed with a healthy homecoming, and I realize that
you are doing what you think proper, but believe me, I am clearly able to look
after myself and my future."

Her four
brothers stared back at her with open mouths as if she had just pronounced her
loyalty to Napoleon.

Inwardly
she fumed. Though her siblings were all powerfully built men, and challenging
them was a feat in itself, she would fight for her freedom. Never again would
she be at the mercy of a man.

"I
am merely seeking a compromise on this," she added impulsively.

"Compromise?"
Roderick's dark eyes turned menacing. "There is no compromising to be
done. We have made a decision. You must leave all the details to us. In fact,
you should be happy that we are to partake in your choice in a husband."
His tone suddenly became gentle. "It is for your protection and comfort,
Em. We think only of you."

Emily
knew her brothers loved her, but at that moment, all she wanted to do was box
their ears, especially Roderick's. She would have laughed out loud if the situation
had not been so vexing. But she did not need their help in setting on the path
to disaster—certainly not since she had been there already.

"Let
me understand, then. You believe that the four of you should partake in the
choice of husband for me?" she asked calmly, her gaze sweeping over
Clayton, Marcus, and Stephen as well. "Is this not correct?"

Four
relieved smiles shot her way.

She
clasped her hands tightly together. They had no idea that she could take care
of herself. She had been on her own for three years. The scar beside her
shoulder blade was proof of that. But without a doubt, informing them about a
pistol ball ripping through her back while she had secretly worked for
Whitehall would not only propel her brothers into a more frenzied state, but
would also do nothing to further her cause.

"Daresay,
Em, you understand perfectly." Marcus toasted his glass her way.
"Knew you were not the kind of female to take offense."

At this
point Emily's anger outweighed any patience she had left. "I will tell you
this, dear brothers, that there is no choice to be made ... by any of
you."

Marcus
clanked his glass against his plate. Roderick let out a low growl. Clayton
stared back in confusion, and Stephen pursed his lips as if waiting for the
final cannon shot.

Emily
did not disappoint him. "You must be insane. I am twenty! I believe that
is old enough to know my own mind. So why in the name of King George should I
be happy about you four simpletons choosing a husband for me?"

"Simpletons?"
the brothers replied in unison, four dark heads snapping to attention.

"We
are not simpletons," Clayton finally replied with a sigh, leaning forward
as he helped himself to another slice of beef. "We are the most devoted of
brothers concerned only for your welfare. Come now, Em, do not jest with us.
This is an important matter."

So they
seemed to think she was teasing them, did they? She doubted they had even heard
her announce her age. Did they believe her just out of the school room? The
ninnies. Perhaps they had not come back from the war intact at all. Well, they
would be shocked to know that she could play their game, too.

Girding
her resolve, she gave them a halfhearted smile. "Believe me, I understand
your concern and am deeply touched. Though I have missed all of you since you
took your stand against the Little Corsican, I cannot sit by and let you make
this important decision for me. I am a full-grown woman, capable of making
choices according to my own needs and wants, and I believe that it would be best
for all concerned that you leave this most important choice to me."

"This
is not a punishment, Em," Marcus said gently, "but a rite of passage
so to speak. Important decisions should not be left to the weaker sex. You must
leave these types of decisions to us wiser men."

Emily
almost choked. Save her from the male mind. With a sense of the inevitable, she
tilted her head toward Stephen. Her youngest brother had let out a muffled
laugh at Marcus's pompous words. Though Stephen had avoided her gaze before,
she knew that he would be her last hope. He had always given her the benefit of
the doubt, but at the sight of his brown eyes growing wide with guilt, her
chest tightened with dread.

"Peagoose,"
she muttered, narrowing her eyes on him.

Roderick
leaned back in his chair and dabbed a white napkin to the corner of his mouth,
setting the cloth down in neat, decisive folds beside his plate. "I will
refrain from comment on your last retort, Em, because peagoose is debatable
here."

Stephen's
brows snapped together at Roderick's comment. "Peagoose? If you
think—"

Roderick
palmed his hand in the air, aborting Stephen’s rebuttal. "See here,
Em," the duke went on, "we are not simpletons. We are your brothers
and will only choose a suitable gentleman. You must see that."

Emily
wanted to roll her eyes. Roderick's words were said in kindness, but they were
also etched in stone as if he were some pharaoh making a momentous decree. But
the problem was, in most circles in London, his proclamations wielded as much
power as an Egyptian god. The mere thought of him choosing a husband for her
sent a ripple of uneasiness down her spine.

"Indeed,
we are not peageese or simpletons, Em," Stephen put in hotly, staring at
Roderick, then back at Emily as if waiting for a reply.

Emily
sat silently, her heart pounding. "Forgive me. The use of the word
simpletons may have been the wrong choice."

Four
sets of well-formed shoulders visibly relaxed. But she would not let them
decide for her. No. She would think of something. She would never again be at
the mercy of a man and have her heart dangling like a target for hunting
season. She had learned her lesson all too well.

"Indeed,
simpletons was a poor choice to describe such thoughtful brothers."

Curling
her fingers around the seat of her chair, she was determined to set them
straight. She paused, waiting to see that she had their attention. Oh, they
were a handsome lot, with their hair colors ranging from blue-black to rich
brown. They had been blessed with twinkling eyes of sky blue or chestnut brown
as well. Healthy male specimens, they could send the most callous of women
drooling like hungry puppies at their feet.

They
also had no inkling that their baby sister had information about many of their
escapades in Town, and they would turn quite pink with embarrassment if they
knew she had knowledge of the London ladies who ran circles around them at the
Assemblies and routs—among other places. Inwardly she smiled. Indeed, they had
yet to realize that she was not one of those silly women to be led on a leash.

"So
we are not simpletons in your opinion?" The question came from Stephen,
whose lips quirked upward. He seemed to think himself cleared from the field of
fire—and him, a commissioned officer, Emily thought wide-eyed. No wonder Napoleon
made such a comeback.

"No,
no." Emily raised a delicate brow, her eyes gleaming. "Not simpletons
exactly ... I believe fools and half-wits would be more appropriate."

Roderick
glared at her, Clayton frowned, Marcus choked on his wine, and Stephen blinked,
clearly at a loss for words.

Emily
pushed back from her chair and stood. "Mayhap now I finally have your
attention."

With a
muttered oath, Roderick shot from his seat, his eyes darkening with anger.
"Indeed, you have our attention, madam. However, nothing you say changes
the fact that, since Boney's no threat to us and Waterloo's behind us, an
entire army of unfit suitors will be marching this way in hopes of an expedient
marriage with you, and I won't have it!"

A throng
of brotherly grunts rippled in the air.

"By
Jove, disgusting thought," Clayton answered with a shake of his head.

"Mass
of cork-brained suitors," Marcus replied, bringing his wineglass to his
lips.

Stephen
cracked his knuckles. "An entire army. Don't like that. Had enough of that
in the Peninsula. No indeed."

"No
indeed," Roderick said coolly, taking his seat as if everything were
resolved. "Not a pretty sight. You will marry the man we choose, and that
is final."

Emily's
fingers curled into two fists. "Then I won't marry at all."

Roderick
leapt from his chair, knocking over his wine. "By Jove, you will obey
us!"

Emily
faltered slightly at her brother's outburst. Never before had he been so
adamant or insistent on matters concerning her. As a child, he had always
indulged her slightest whim. But she was no longer a child, and his temper had
run away with him. Roderick would never lay a hand on her, but now that he was
home, as her guardian, he had control over her life whether she wanted it or
not. It seemed he fought against the notion of her falling under the spell of a
rake—not knowing, of course, that Emily knew all her brothers were categorized
as such by the ladies of the ton.

No
matter, their foolish idea of choosing a husband for her was one that had been
gaining momentum ever since Roderick had seen her speaking to a couple of his
gambling companions two weeks ago in Hyde Park. The very next day she had been
sent home to Elbourne Hall.

But
whether they believed it or not, she would not marry a man of their choosing. A
marriage of convenience could be possible if her future husband agreed to her
independence. But she would be the one to choose, not her addlepated brothers.

"I
will choose the man I will marry, that is, if I ever marry in the first
place," she replied firmly.

To her shock,
Stephen gave her an acknowledging wink. What was his game? She was certain no
one else had seen the mischief in his eyes. The noose around her neck began to
loosen and her hope soared.

"Enough
of this nonsense," Roderick said, throwing an agitated hand to the back of
his neck and massaging it as he sat down. "See here, Em. The only choice
you will have is the lace on your wedding dress. Now, take a seat and finish
your meal."

Emily
refused to sit down. Hovering over her brothers seemed to give her the edge she
desperately needed. "I beg to differ. You cannot force me to marry a man I
do not love or want. If there is a choice to be made, I will choose. Can you
not understand?"

"Want?
Love?" Roderick said with a cringe. "Hell's teeth, your womanly instincts
are the very reason we will do the choosing. Have I not made myself perfectly
clear?"

Stephen
surveyed Emily, his eyes turning tender with concern. "Jupiter, Em, you
cannot wish to marry that Fennington fellow? Man's a scoundrel. Odious dandy if
I ever saw one."

Before
Emily could answer, Clayton laughed. "Catch sight of that quizzing glass
the man had? As large as a door knocker. Man's right eye looked three sizes
bigger than the left."