Bloodworth propped his elbows on the arms of the chair and clasped his hands. “Why would I do that?”
“She’s in love with someone else.”
Bloodworth shrugged. “I’m not looking for love, merely a wife to give me an heir.”
“There are any number of available women,” Barrett said. “Why stay wed to one who loves another?”
“The marriage stands,” Bloodworth said flatly. “Or I will have you thrown into debtor’s prison for failure to meet your commitment. I will not accept a partial payment. I will not accept a late payment. The loan was, in fact, due in full yesterday.”
“Yesterday!” Leyton shook his head. “That can’t be!” Merciful heavens, had he misread the due date? Maida had been urging him to get spectacles for months. Perhaps he should have listened.
“I will consider the note paid in full when your daughter fulfills her wedding vows,” Bloodworth declared. And so saying, he gained his feet and left the room.
Barrett stared after him. All was lost. Either Bryony went through with the formal wedding and consummated the marriage or he would go to prison. His family would be homeless, disgraced. He stared into the cold hearth, overcome with shame. He had failed Bryony. He had failed his family.
Tomorrow he would go to the bank and return the money he had borrowed. It was of no use to him now. He thought briefly of the pistol he kept in his office at home then swore under his breath. He would not take the coward’s way out and bring further shame to his family.
With a heavy heart, he made his way home to tell his daughter he had failed.
Bryony stared at the floor as her father told her the bad news. When she said nothing, he begged for her forgiveness. And when she still said nothing, he left the room, his head down, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
Bryony sat there for a long time, feeling numb. She had tried to contact Stefan several times, but to no avail. He hadalways known what she was thinking. Surely he knew she loved him, wanted him. Why wasn’t he answering?
She told herself it wouldn’t be so bad to be Lady Bloodworth. She would live in a house even more opulent than the one she lived in now. Anything she wanted could be hers. All the latest styles from Paris. The best paints and canvases money could buy, all the books she could read. Imported chocolates. Everything but Stefan. And once she presented Bloodworth with a male heir, he would probably have little use for her.
She had no other options. Her father had seen to that. She couldn’t let her father go to prison. She had wed Bloodworth in a private ceremony of her own free will. She had no legal grounds for an annulment. Bloodworth would never agree to a divorce. It took her a moment to realize she was crying silent tears.
When she had no tears left, she dried her eyes and straightened her spine. The time for weeping was past. She had been counting on Stefan to repay her father’s loan, but she hadn’t been able to contact him. She had been so certain that Stefan loved her and that, even if he didn’t, he would still agree to lend her father the money he needed. Had she been wrong? For the first time, she wondered if something had happened to him.
Feeling like Joan of Arc going to face the flames, Bryony squared her shoulders and steeled herself to meet her fate.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The day of the wedding dawned grey and cold with the promise of rain. It suited Bryony’s mood perfectly as she stood at her bedchamber window looking out.
She had spent the day before trying to convince herself that she could go through with the ceremony, which was to be held that evening at the church in the city. She told herself she had no choice, there was no other option. It was marry Bloodworth the Bald or watch her father be arrested and dragged off to debtor’s prison, perhaps for life, the only home she had ever known sold. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure which would be worse.
Bloodworth was rich and proud. Maybe if she went to him and begged him to annul their marriage, he would agree. Why would a man wish to stay wed to a woman who didn’t want him? She would promise to repay the debt with interest if he would end the marriage. Even if Stefan didn’t want her, he still might be persuaded to lend her the money. It was a slim hope, but it was the only one she had.
The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became. If she failed, things would be no worse than they were now.
It was hours until the wedding. Stepping out of her nightgown, she put on her undergarments and then went to the wardrobe. Opening the door, she considered the choicesinside. After a moment, she pulled out her ugliest dress, a murky brown velvet that did nothing for her figure or her complexion. She pulled on a pair of ugly brown boots that should have been thrown away months ago. She swept her hair back into a severe bun and covered it with a net. She smiled grimly when she looked in the mirror. She had made herself as unattractive as she could.
Heaving a sigh, she donned her cloak and tiptoed down the stairs. It was still early. Most of the household was asleep. She found a servant in the kitchen and sent him for the carriage.
Twenty minutes later, she was on her way to the Bloodworth estate.
Ten minutes after that, the Bloodworth’s butler escorted her into the front parlor.
She was too nervous to sit still. The house was quiet, the room cold. The furniture was costly, the paintings that adorned the walls were the most beautiful she had ever seen. She bit down on her lip, thinking she would rather live in a hovel with Stefan than share this house with Bloodworth the Bald.
The butler’s footsteps sounded overly loud as he entered the room. “Lord Bloodworth will see you upstairs.”
Bryony swallowed hard. “Upstairs?” She started to say it was inappropriate, but that wouldn’t wash. She was, after all, legally his wife.
Heart pounding with dread, she followed the butler up the long, winding staircase to the second floor and down a long, carpeted hall lined with portraits of the Bloodworth family. She noted they all had a tendency toward corpulence.
The butler ushered her into Bloodworth’s sitting room.
