Bride By Mistake (40 page)

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Authors: Anne Gracie

BOOK: Bride By Mistake
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The old gentleman was putting a brave face on it, Bella thought. Deep down he was grieving. His wife’s betrayal had cut deep. He had been intensely humiliated, and yet… he loved her.

Love is pain.

The
marqués
was also, Bella suspected, only too glad to get rid of herself and her husband; reminders of his grievous mistake in judgment, as well as witnesses to his killing of his wife, so when Luke had proved so stubborn about traveling on, the
marqués
had seized on the excuse and pressed his best traveling carriage on them so Luke could travel in the utmost comfort. He’d provided a coachman and grooms and two outriders and had sent riders on ahead to arrange the change of horses with minimum delay.

Apart from sleeping overnight at various inns, they’d traveled almost nonstop for four days. Bella was weary of it.

Luke was dozing again. He’d spent a good part of the journey sleeping. It was good for his recovery, she knew, but carriage travel, even in a well sprung, comfortable carriage, was so dull. She’d attempted to read one of the books the
marqués
had pressed on her as a parting gift, but the carriage bounced so much, trying to concentrate on the print made her feel ill.

They hit a pothole, and Luke grabbed a strap with his good hand. Good, he was awake.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking in the last few days while you’ve slept, Luke, and I’ve made a few decisions.”

“Sounds ominous,” Luke said with a faint smile. There was a new ease to him since they’d left the Castillo del Rasal. A lightness. As if he’d started to forgive himself. Not that he talked about it, or probably ever would, but she was hopeful.

“It’s not quite that, but you might not like what I’ve decided to do,” she said seriously. “It concerns my mother’s fortune.”

“Your fortune,” he reminded her.

“Yes, exactly,” she said, leaning forward. “It is
my
fortune, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“And I can do with it whatever I want, and you won’t try to stop me?”

He considered that for a moment. “I suppose it depends what you want to do. If it seems to me unwise or imprudent, I will voice my opinion, possibly quite strenuously.”

“But you won’t actually stop me?”

“I can’t stop you,” he said. “It’s your fortune.”

Bella could still hardly believe it. For so long she had owned nothing, and before that she hadn’t had any choice in any of her life. But this man, this beautiful wonderful man had signed away all his rights to her fortune—and though she had no exact idea of the extent of it yet, she knew it must be substantial.

“I’ve decided what I want to do with it—part of it, I mean, not the whole.”

“I see.”

“I’m going to give some of it to the other girls in the convent.” And before he could say anything, she rushed on, “You see they’re all stuck there because they have no dowries and their families are too proud to admit it or to let their daughters marry men not of their class. It’s such a waste. They’ll end up having to become nuns and nobody should be a nun unless they want to! And they’re my friends.”

He nodded. “So you’re going to give them a dowry? All, what is it, six of them? That’s quite a sum.”

“I know, but you said I could spend—”

“I’m not arguing,” he pointed out gently.

“Oh. Good. But that’s not all. I want to give a share of the fortune to Perlita.”

“Perlita?” He stared at her, dumbfounded for a moment, then burst out laughing.

“What is so funny?”

“After all the trouble we went through to keep Ramón’s greedy paws off it! You know she’ll give it all to him, don’t you?”

She grinned triumphantly. “Ah, but it will be Perlita’s dowry. Ramón will only get it if he marries her.”

“And if he doesn’t marry her?”

“He will,” she said confidently. “He loves her. He’s only considering marrying someone else because he’s desperate to bring Valle Verde back to its former glory. And I want that, too, for it was once my home and I love it. So…” She tilted her head and gave him a quizzical look. “What do you think of my plan?”

“It’s an excellent solution to all your worries.”

“My worries?”

“You have a tendency to fret about other people’s welfare,” he told her. “This way you’ll only have one person to fuss over.”

She frowned. “Who?”

He leaned forward and tugged her out of her seat and onto his lap. “Me.”

“Luke! Your wound.”

“Treat me gently,” he murmured.

Eighteen

“I
’ve never seen so many people in one place.” Bella’s head swiveled left and right as the carriage Luke called a “yellow bounder” wove through the crowded streets of London.

They’d landed at Portsmouth that day, and raced across the country at a speed Bella could barely believe. They’d only just arrived in London. It was the night of Molly’s ball.

“Grosvenor Square on our left,” he pointed out. “Have you ever eaten ice cream?”

“No, but—”

“I’ll take you to Gunter’s, then. You’ll like it—damn!”

“What is it?”

“I’d forgotten about the dinner.”

“What dinner?”

“The dinner before the ball. I’d hoped to introduce you to my mother before the ball, but she’s giving a dinner beforehand and her guests are arriving already. See all those carriages lined up ahead? That’s my mother’s house. Your house, in fact. It actually belongs to me.”

Bella glared at him. His mother’s house? He’d completely
ignored all her protests. “I told you, Luke, I’m not going to your sister’s ball. I don’t have anything to wear. This is my best dress and look at it!” They both studied her red dress. It was looking sadly the worse for wear. “Even a housemaid wouldn’t wear this.”

He dismissed it with a gesture. “I know that. I’d planned to get Molly to lend you a dress.” He pulled out his watch and consulted it. “But we’re running later than I’d hoped. There won’t be enough time for the maids to adjust it.”

“Adjust it?”

“Yes, Molly is plumper than you. And a bit taller, too.” He narrowed his eyes at her in calculation. “I have it—Nell!”

“Nell?” She knew who Nell was; the wife of one of Luke’s closest friends, Harry. But her lack of dress wasn’t really the problem. It was a useful excuse, that was all.

Bad enough to be shabbily dressed in the heart of fashionable London, but on top of it all, Bella was as nervous as a mouse about meeting Luke’s friends and family en masse.

The foreign girl who trapped their darling into an unwanted marriage. The shabby foreign girl. But Luke was oblivious.

“Nell and Harry will be staying at Lady Gosforth’s. You’ll like Lady Gosforth. A right old tartar, but underneath she’s got a heart of gold.” Before Bella could say a word, Luke stuck his head out of the window and shouted directions to the postilion.

“How do you know this Nell would be willing to lend me a dress?”

He snorted as if the idea of Nell’s refusing was ridiculous. “Nell’s more your style, too. She’s an elegant little thing. You’ll like Nell. She’s like you, a horsewoman to the fingertips.” He sat back and then gave a crack of laughter.

“What?”

“I can’t wait for my friends to meet you.”

“Why?” she asked suspiciously.

“I told them to expect a demure and obedient little convent girl, someone who’d been patiently sewing samplers all these years.”

She snorted.

He laughed again. “Exactly! They’re going to
love
you.”

She smiled and gazed out of the window. Of course it would be nice if his friends loved her, but she really didn’t care. There was only one man she wanted to love her, and he was oblivious.

They reached Lady Gosforth’s town house, but to Luke’s dismay they found that Nell, Harry, and Lady Gosforth had already left for the pre-ball dinner. Even Lady Gosforth’s dresser had gone out for the evening.

“However, Cooper, Lady Nell’s own maid, is upstairs, Lord Ripton,” Lady Gosforth’s butler said. “Would you like me to summon her?”

“The very thing, Sprotton. Fetch her down at once,” Luke said, and in a short time a pretty, young, smartly dressed maidservant appeared.

Luke explained what was wanted. Cooper looked at Bella and her eyes lit. “Oh, sir, I think I have the very thing. And no, miss, I mean m’lady, Lady Nell wouldn’t mind a bit. In fact when we got the dress home, we decided the color wasn’t quite right on her. It’ll be perfect for you, miss, trust me.” She ushered Bella upstairs and Luke went around the corner to his lodgings to change.

In thirty minutes, Cooper did what Luke had failed to do in several weeks of marriage: convinced Bella of the benefits of having a good maid.

Bella stared at her reflection in the looking glass. “It’s a miracle,” she breathed. If the girls in the convent could only see her now. Less than half an hour, and yet nobody would have guessed that Bella hadn’t spent half the day primping.

Cooper laughed. “No, m’lady, but it’s a fact that this dress suits you better than it ever did Lady Nell.”

“It’s the dress and the magic of Cooper,” Bella insisted. The dress, in green and bronze silk, fitted her perfectly, as did the corset designed for the dress. She didn’t look skinny anymore; she looked… slender. And elegant. Even fashionable. And with a delicious hint of bosom.

Cooper had done something magic with her hair, too,
braiding it in an elegant variation of her usual coronet, and weaving in bronze and green and cream ribbons.

A whiff of the hare’s-foot over her complexion, the merest breath of rouge on her cheeks and lips, and Bella barely recognized herself. It was about as far from the way she’d looked when she’d met Luke at the convent as it was possible to be. Thank goodness.

“Now for a shawl,” Cooper said, opening a chest.

“What about this?” Bella produced her cream silk shawl.

“Oh, m’lady, it’s gorgeous,” Cooper breathed. “I’ll just press the wrinkles out of it, and it’ll be perfect.”

“And… pearls?” She took out her mother’s pearls.

“Perfect, m’lady, just perfect. You look an absolute picture, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Bella took a deep breath before she began the descent down the stairs. Dressed like this, she felt up to any gathering of friends and relatives. She hoped Luke approved.

She was a third of the way down when Luke appeared at the foot of the stairs. Bella almost stumbled. He’d always looked handsome, but now, freshly shaved and dressed in full formal evening dress, he looked utterly magnificent.

She must have made a sound, because he looked up. And froze.

She forced herself to keep walking. Absurd to be so nervous of her own husband looking at her, but… They weren’t butterflies in her stomach; they were sparrows. Whole flocks of them, circling and dipping.

His eyes, a deep, glittering blue, devoured her. He didn’t say a word, but the look in his face… it made her chest thicken and her heart pound.

For the first time in her life, she felt—no, she
knew
she was beautiful.

Sprotton had sent away the yellow hire carriage, and Lady Gosforth’s landau awaited them. Luke handed Isabella up. “You know,” he said, as the carriage moved off, “there’s something I’ve neglected to tell you.”

“Oh?” It sounded important.

“Yes. It occurred to me just now when you came down the
stairs looking more beautiful than any man’s wife should look.”

“Oh.”

“I should have said it a long time ago.”

“Oh?” It was ridiculous; she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Her heart was beating so fast. The carriage slowed. Were they there, already?

“Yes, back on the boat. Or the carriage. Or even before that, at Castillo de Rasal.” He frowned. “Possibly even at Valle Verde. Or at Ayerbe in the Inn With No Fleas—” The carriage stopped. He looked out of the window. “Ah, we’re here. I’ll tell you later.”

She grabbed his wrist. “Don’t you dare tease me like this, Luke Ripton. Just tell me now!”

He looked at her, a little smile playing around his lips. “It’s not urgent. It’ll keep.”

“Luke!”

His voice deepened. He leaned forward and drew her into his arms. “It’s just this: I love you, Isabella Ripton. I have for I don’t know how long. It might have been at the convent, or later at—”

A servant pulled the carriage door open. “Lord Ripton, you’re home!” the man exclaimed joyfully.

Luke chuckled and pulled back from the kiss he’d been about to give her. “See, I said I should tell you later.”

Bella was too stunned to move. “You love me?” she repeated blankly.

The servant gave her a startled glance, looked at Luke, grinned, and promptly began to close the carriage door.

“No.” Luke stopped him. He took Bella’s hand. “Come, my love, they’re all waiting for us. I sent a note around. Dinner has been put back.”

She followed him in a daze. He loved her? Or was that just something he said to make them all feel better about the marriage? He’d said it in front of his servant, after all.

Oh, it didn’t matter. He loved her; he’d said so. She didn’t care if it was a ruse or not. For tonight, she’d just believe it.
Tonight she felt beautiful and her husband had told her he loved her. It was enough.

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