His wife sighed in the crook of Harris’s arm, a bundle of worry. Nothing seemed to ease her trepidation on this, the final leg of their journey. Neither games nor kisses did the trick as their carriage rolled toward London.
“I know you’re not asleep,” he grumbled.
“You cannot know if I am sleeping or?—”
“You’re stewin’. So out with it then.” He poked her midriff.
She huffed. “I am afraid what people will think when we return, what Papa will say.”
“Bella, once your old man’s apprised in full of Finch, he’ll thank his lucky stars I made off with yer when I did.”
“Oh I doubt that very much, Arthur.”
Harris felt kicked. He’d saved her from a hideous fate, at no small cost to himself. Winthrop better be bloody grateful.
“You see, it is not…” She looked embarrassed. “It was my mother’s dying wish that I should marry well, to make up for her own failed union with Papa.”
“So yer mum weren’t happy. Sounds like most married ladies I know.”
Bella began to pluck lint off his waistcoat this time, not her skirts. “She felt degraded by Father’s gambling. At least, Lizzie has always implied as much. I was so young when my mother passed, I hardly remember her.”
“Well I don’t see how marriage t’meshould reflect poorly onyouwhen yer father betrothed yer t’ Finch,” he ground out. “He’d no concern fer yer honor, yer future, let alone yer wellbeing when he gambled you to that man, Bella. Not gambled, sold. So if you think fer an instant that my marryin’ you is less honorable than yer father’s dishonorable?—”
“Arthur, society will look unfavorably upon you not because you own a gaming hall, but because you are not titled. They would have looked just as unfavorably on Mr. Finch had I married him.”
“Yet Jasper’s respectable because he bought himself a bleedin’ Scottish Barony? A blasted title makes all th’ difference, do it?” He was angrier than he liked, and he didn’t know why.
“It is not whatIthink, Arthur, it is?—”
“What th’ rest o’ them bloody toffs’llsay, I see.”
She looked like she wished to take back her words, but she couldn’t. It was all true.
He cut to the quick. “Well y’ can rest pretty, wife, as I’m deliverin’ you t’ the Baron and Lady Milton first, before we see yer dear papa.” He scowled. “I’ve a might many things t’ discuss now with Jasp, not least o’ which is whether he’s dealt with yer former beau yet.”
He knew his tone was ugly, but Harris didn’t care.
“An’ when wedovisit yer fine father, you’ll breathe not a word of annullin’ our marriage, Bella, not a word.” He pierced her with his gaze. “Fer appearance’s sake, you’ll live with me atThe Leafuntil Finch is no longer a threat. You’ll share me bed so it appears we’re truly wed and no gossip spreads.” He stared hard at her. “Do I make myself clear?”
She lowered her gaze. “Yes, Arthur.”
He glared out the carriage window, his mood sullen as hell as they entered London’s outskirts.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Elizabeth paced the floor in Milton’s office while Mutton’s eyes followed her every step, tail barely thumping. The wolfhound missed his master.Shemissed his master too. Her emotion surprised her, but there was no denying how she felt. “Where are you, Jasper?” she muttered as her mind raced from one scenario to the next, with the next always worse than the first.
“Ginny’s returned, ma’am.” Gerald appeared, sounding out of breath.
“Thank heavens!” She rushed after him down the stairs into the parlor, where she found not only Ginny but Murdoch and Miss Li, who must have leftLeBrecht’sthe minute she received Elizabeth’s note.
Ginny regaled them of her travails while Elizabeth took stock of her maid’s alarming appearance. The girl’s dress was in shambles, her skin bruised purple in spots. She’d been roughed up but naught worse—or so she claimed.
“I don’t know more, ma’am, honest I don’t.” Miss Li had unleashed a flurry of questions at Elizabeth’s poor lady’s maid. “I’ve wracked me brains tryin’ t’ remember more.”
“But you are certain they have Jasper,” Li pressed.
“Yes’m.” Ginny met Elizabeth’s eyes across the room. “I’ve no doubt.”
