And suppressed her moan.“Hello, Jean.”
“Jean-Pierre,” he corrected, though Bella had intentionally misnamed him.“Bella,précieuse,so beautiful you look.Except, did you not comb your hair this morning?”
She fought the urge to run her fingers through her mop.“I was not expecting company at cockcrow.Is there something you need?”
“Oui.Did your father not tell you?”
“He is not here right now.Perhaps you should come back later?”She moved to close the door, but Jean stuck his boot into the opening.
“May I come in?”he asked as he shoved his way through.“Such a quaint home.Très modeste, is it not?”
A burn of embarrassment had her stiffening her spine.“Papa never made it to the fair to sell his inventions this year.We have had to make do.”
“Is that so?”he asked, his eyes glittering like he knew a secret.
Bella fought the urge to take a step back.“What is it you want?”
“Wait a moment, and you shall see.”
Alarm bells went off in her head.She didn’t like this.“I do not feel it proper that you are in my home without my father present.Please leave.”
He didn’t.In fact, his lips twisted in what he might have thought was a smile, but to Bella, it looked sinister.“Oui, we cannot have neighbors thinking the worst of us, can we?”
“Leave now.”
“Not without you,” he said and snatched her in his arms, trying to force a kiss upon her lips.
Bella squealed and stomped on his toes, but her stockinged feet had no effect on his boots.“Leave me alone!”
“No, Bella.We are to be married.”
“No!”she screamed, and ‘twas then her father flung open the door.
“What is this?”he demanded, though to Bella, he did not seem shocked to find Jean-Pierre in their home.
“I have come to pay a bride price for Bella,” Jean said, and he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins.
Coins that Bella recognized.
She knew instantly what her father had been up to.“How could you?”she hissed.“Those coins were mine.I earned them.”
“You gave them to me, and I handed them out as I saw fit,” her sire said, as if the matter were settled.
“See?”Jean beamed.“Now everyone is happy.”
“I’m certainly not,” Bella retorted.
“You have been a spinster too long to understand what happiness is,” Jean said, like he was a master at relationships.
“No, I’ve been a spinster because I know that being so is what brings me happiness.”
Jean sent her father a look of sheer exasperation, to which her father waved him down.
“Let me take care of this.”
“Father, you cannot be serious.”
“Jean-Pierre wants to marry you, and he is willing to pay a bride price for you.”
