Claiming the Forbidden Bride (21 page)

 

When the butler answered the door at his brother's home, Rhys was provided with a foretaste of the disaster this visit was destined to become. The servant's fascinated eyes had remained locked on Nadya and Angel even as he'd made Rhys welcome.

‘Thank you, Evans. Is my brother in his study?'

‘You'll find him in the drawing room, I believe. He and Lady Sutton are about to have tea. Will you join them?'

‘Thank you, yes.'

When Evans started to lead the way, Rhys turned to smile encouragingly at the two of them. Nadya's hands were firmly on her daughter's shoulders, as if she were unsure what the child might do. And as they followed the butler, the little girl's eyes widened in an attempt to take in every aspect of her unfamiliar surroundings.

‘Rhys!' Edward jumped to his feet as they entered the room to rush toward him.

His brother's face, which had been filled with joy, changed when he saw Nadya and Angel behind him. His forward progress checked so abruptly it appeared he had literally run up against some physical barrier.

‘Edward.' Rhys tried to ease the awkwardness by stepping forward to enfold his brother in his arms.

‘And what have we here?' Edward asked with a false jollity as their brief embrace ended.

‘May I introduce Nadya Argentari and her daughter Angeline. Nadya, this is my brother Edward Morgan, Lord Sutton.'

‘How do you do?' His brother's tone was perfectly cordial, but his eyes darted between Rhys's and Nadya's face.

Rhys decided to delay the rest of the pertinent information that should have been included in that introduction. His family deserved a chance to recover from the immediate shock of their unusual visitors.

He could tell by Nadya's brief hesitation before responding to Edward's greeting that she had expected him to announce their marriage. When he didn't, she held out her hand to his brother.

‘I'm very pleased to meet you, Lord Sutton. Rhys has told me how important you and your wife were to his recovery.'

Edward's eyes found Rhys, demanding an explanation. ‘Indeed. Well, we are highly gratified he has done so well under our care.'

A brief but awkward silence fell after that, but Rhys's brother finally rose to the occasion. ‘Won't you join us? My wife was about to pour.'

‘Thank you.'

The regal inclination of Nadya's head would have done
generations of Argentaris and Beshaleys proud, Rhys thought. Propelling a still-fascinated Angel ahead of her, she swept forward, leaving Rhys and his brother to trail in her wake.

Abigail, seated behind the tea table, was as round-eyed as Evans had been when he'd opened the door. Brows raised, she looked to her husband and then to Rhys for some clue as to how she should deal with this intrusion. And more importantly, with the intruder.

Edward offered none. ‘Rhys has brought guests, my dear.'

‘How pleasant. Won't you introduce us?' Despite the politeness of those conventional words, Abigail's smile was as frozen as her tone.

‘Abigail, may I present to you Nadya Argentari and her daughter Angel. My sister-in-law, Lady Sutton,' Rhys added as he turned to Nadya.

‘How do you do, Lady Sutton?'

‘Very well, thank you, my dear.' Her eyes again sought her husband's, the question in them more desperate. ‘Won't you both be seated?'

‘I'll ask Evans to bring more cups,' Sutton said.

His wife's beseeching gaze followed as her husband exited through the doorway where their butler had disappeared only seconds before. With his departure, their hostess was forced to gather her faltering composure.

‘What a lovely child.'

‘Thank you,' Nadya said as she settled on the brocade sofa Abigail had indicated.

She had released Angel's shoulders, obviously expecting the little girl to sit down beside her. Angel instead made straight for the tea tray and proceeded to snatch one of the delicate cakes from its china plate. As she shoved the morsel into her mouth, she watched Lady Sutton as if expecting that she would try and take it back.

‘Angel!' Rhys's remonstrance had been automatic.

‘My daughter neither hears nor speaks.' Nadya added a quick smile to her explanation as she rose to remove the child from temptation. ‘She does, as you can see, love sweets.'

It was clear from Abigail's expression that she didn't see. Certainly not why she should be expected to entertain a Gypsy and her thieving child.

‘Here we are.' Edward's tone was still jovial as he ushered the butler back into the room.

The man waited as Abigail poured out with shaking hands and then carried the tea around. At least Evans's expression was once more imperviously correct.

‘Do you…live around here, Mrs Argentari?' As soon as he asked, Edward seemed to realize the inappropriateness of addressing that question to a Rom. He hid his embarrassment by taking a sip of tea.

‘No.' Nadya's reply was followed by the same ritual.

‘Perhaps you should tell us the purpose of this visit, Rhys.'

Abigail's thinly veiled demand represented a step in the right direction, Rhys decided. It was past time for him to explain. No matter how that explanation might be received.

‘I've asked Nadya to marry me.' Abigail's gasp was audible, but Rhys ignored it to plough on. ‘Actually, according to the customs of her people, we
are
married. Of course, we hope those vows can be sanctioned by the church and English law. With Nadya's…' He hesitated, but quickly recovered. ‘Given her heritage, we'll need a special license. I had hoped you'd help me acquire one, Edward. And that you would both wish us happy, of course.' He finished by smiling at his sister-in-law.

Edward's cup had frozen midway to his mouth. Abigail's lips were parted, her lace-trimmed handkerchief
pressed against her throat, as if she were choking. For what seemed an eternity, neither responded.

‘You're joking, I assume,' Edward managed finally.

‘I assure you that I am not.' Even as he made that disclaimer, Rhys raised his chin challengingly.

The men he had served with would have known the meaning of that gesture. It was perhaps telling that his brother did not.

‘That's absurd, Rhys. You can't marry a—'

‘Rom,' Nadya supplied calmly when Edward's description sputtered to a halt.

‘I've already married her,' Rhys said softly. ‘All I'm asking is your help in finalizing the vows we made before her people.'

‘Ask and be damned.'

In spite of how badly this had gone so far, Rhys was shocked by the vehemence of his brother's words. Colour stained Edward's cheekbones, and his lips were clenched so tightly that a muscle jumped at one corner of them.

‘After all we've done for you, Rhys.' Abigail's handkerchief was now against lips that trembled with emotion.

It was Nadya who spoke into the stunned silence that followed, addressing Abigail directly. ‘Thank you for your very kind care of Rhys, Lady Sutton. Without it, he might not have survived injuries of the severity of his.'

‘Perhaps it would have been better had he not.'

The gloves were off with a vengeance. After Reggie's reaction, Rhys had known this would not be easy, but he was shocked by his family's hostility.

‘You must forgive me if I disagree.' Nadya's voice was perfectly calm as she rose. ‘Thank you so much for the tea.'

She turned, attempting to direct her daughter toward the door to the hall. Angel, it seemed, had other ideas.

Escaping her mother's control, she darted back to the tea tray to scoop up two more of the still untouched cakes. The quick curtsy she made to Rhys's sister-in-law left Abigail once more open-mouthed.

As Nadya passed Rhys on her way out, Angel once more firmly in her control, she said, ‘We'll wait for you outside. I assume you won't be long.'

 

As she walked out through the huge front door, their departure made under the butler's supervision—probably to insure she didn't steal anything before she left—Nadya found herself wondering whether Rhys would join them. After all, she knew from personal experience how difficult it was to say goodbye to everyone you've ever loved.

When the door had closed firmly behind them, Angel tugged on her skirt. Eyes misted with tears, Nadya looked down to find the little girl holding out one of the pilfered cakes.

Despite the pain of the last few moments, Nadya laughed. She shook her head in refusal and then stooped to draw the child close. As her arms closed around her, Angel popped the treat into her own mouth.

At least we didn't leave empty-handed.

She had lifted the child up onto the first step of the caravan and was about to start her own ascent when the front door slammed again. She turned to see Rhys, standing alone in front of his brother's house. The depth of the breath he took was visible, even from the drive.

When he looked up and realized she was watching him, he smiled at her. If she'd had any remaining doubts about whether he loved her, that smile alone would have destroyed them.

He hurried down the front steps. ‘My apologies. I didn't expect it to go quite so badly.'

‘Perhaps if Angel hadn't taken
all
the cakes…' Her smile invited him to share her sense of how ridiculous this had been.

Despite her best effort, Rhys's eyes were bleak. ‘We may need those cakes before this is done.'

‘You forget that I've lived alongside Magda for years. I can always read palms.'

‘Is that profitable?' Clearly he was willing to be drawn out of his despair.

‘It always was for her. Besides, we have other, more tangible assets.' She touched her father's wedding gift to her mother, knowing how difficult it would be to give that up. ‘If it comes to that.'

‘It won't,' Rhys promised grimly. ‘I still have my pension, which is enough to insure that you and Angel will never be hungry. Unless—' Something changed in his face.

‘Unless what? What's wrong?'

‘Until we're married—a marriage that is recognized under English law—if anything happened to me, you'd have no rights to that money.'

‘Nothing's going to happen to you, Rhys.'

His words were enough to tighten Nadya's chest. Not from fear that she wouldn't be able to provide for her daughter—after all, they could return to the Rom, where they would always find welcome. It was the thought of losing Rhys, perhaps from the very suppuration of his wounds she'd tried so hard to guard against, that terrified her.

‘No one can be certain of that, Nadya. You understand the fragility of life better than most. It's my responsibility to guarantee that if something did happen to me—'

‘Don't,' she commanded, unwilling to entertain the possibility.

‘You would both be provided for,' he ignored her protest to finish the unpleasant thought. ‘And I believe I know how to bring that about. I told you about my grandmother. That she is like Magda in that she fears nothing.'

‘I remember.'

‘She's the dowager baroness, Nadya. She can help us procure the special license we'll need to marry under English law. In that, she has the same influence as my brother.'

‘And undoubtedly she'll have the same reaction.'

‘Perhaps,' Rhys conceded, ‘but she isn't conventional like my sister-in-law. She never has been. She's…' He hesitated, seeming uncertain how to describe the dowager Lady Sutton. ‘At least she won't turn us out into the cold. I'd stake my life on that.'

‘We aren't
in the cold.
We have a roof over our heads—'

‘Provided by your father.'

‘What can it possibly matter who provided it?'

‘It matters to me. You're my wife. Angel's my daughter. And I intend to take care of both of you.'

She didn't object again, stopped by the determination in his eyes.

‘I can't guarantee that my grandmother will help us,' he went on, ‘but…she's the only person I can think of who might. I have to try.'

 

The dowager house was smaller than that belonging to the current Lord and Lady Sutton, but to Nadya's country-bred sensibilities, with its sprawling gardens and ancient oaks, it was far lovelier. To her, its ivy-covered stones spoke welcome, as did the cross-hatched windows which threw a cheerful light into the deepening twilight.

Exactly the kind of home she might have chosen if she'd been given the choice.

She wouldn't be, of course. Rhys's grandmother might love him, but just as his brother had, she would surely draw the line at condoning a ruinous marriage to someone who would never be accepted by Society. And Nadya wasn't sure she could endure watching as his heart was broken again.

Angel had fallen asleep in her arms, lulled by the familiar rhythm of the
vardo
's wheels. The child would undoubtedly be cranky at being awakened. This afternoon's theft might seem inconsequential compared to her misbehaviour tonight.

‘Perhaps it would be better if we waited out here.' Nadya looked down at her sleeping daughter to bolster her suggestion.

‘Nonsense,' Rhys said as he climbed down. ‘I'll carry her inside.'

‘It isn't that—' Nadya began and then realized he was no longer listening.

Before she could come up with a more compelling argument, Rhys reached up to take Angel, who woke during the transfer. She laid her head on Rhys's shoulder, content to be in his arms.

As she followed them up the walk, Nadya tried to brush the wrinkles out of her skirt. Deciding that was an exercise in futility, she pulled the thin silk shawl she'd put on with such hope this afternoon more closely about her shoulders.

The man who opened the door in response to Rhys's knock was much older than the disapproving Evans and genuinely delighted when he recognized the caller. ‘Master Rhys! We had heard you were home, but never dreamed you were well enough to be up and about. Her ladyship will be beside herself. Come in, my dear boy. Come in.'