Here Comes the Bride

by Alexandra Ivy

  It was the shadow falling across the straw that alerted her that her peace was about to come to an abrupt end. Her heart faltered at the growingly familiar tingle that raced through her body. She had no need to turn her head to know that Lord Brasleigh was standing just behind her.

  “I thought I might find you here,” he said, moving to place himself on the straw beside her.

  Bella struggled to conjure the prickly distaste that she used to keep this gentleman at a firm distance, but for once it remained decidedly elusive. Instead, she nervously plucked at the folds of her skirt as if she were an uncertain schoolgirl. And it was all because of Andre’s foolish questions, she inwardly stewed.

  With an effort to distract that lingering silver gaze, she spoke the first words that came to her mind. “Your patient appears much improved.”

  A satisfied smile curved his firm lips. “Oh, yes, Nelson is quite a brave soldier.”

  “Nelson?” she questioned in puzzlement.

  “Well, his previous name was Pug, hardly a heroic title.”

  “No, indeed.”

  “Here.” With a swift movement, he untied the small bundle he held in his hands. Nelson gave a yelp of sheer pleasure as Lord Brasleigh offered him a delicate meat pastry. “He has developed a decided preference for pheasant pie.”

  Although Bella had only encountered Lady Stenhold’s cook on a handful of occasions, the imposing lady had not struck her as a woman with a particular soft spot for animals. “Cook actually made pheasant pie for a dog?”

  A rather wicked glint entered his eyes. “I did not exactly inquire if it was for Nelson.”

  “You stole it,” she accused.

  “Nothing of the sort. I simply found it on the counter and presumed that Cook would be delighted to aid in this fine boy’s recovery.”

  Bella could not suppress a renegade smile that twitched at her lips. “She would have your head on a platter if she realized you were filching her creations for a mere dog.”

  “Ah, but this is no mere dog.” Lord Brasleigh reached out to gently pat Nelson’s head, sending its tail wagging in sheer ecstasy. Clearly the wise dog was well aware of who he owed his life to. “He is a survivor.”

  Bella felt a peculiar warmth spread through her heart, and barely aware of her movement, she reached out to stroke her hands over the soft fur of the dog. She was vibrantly aware of his slender fingers close to her own. “Yes, he is.”

  “I think that he remembers your touch,” he said softly, his gaze stroking over her countenance. “But then, who could forget it?”

  She felt lost in the shimmering silver of his eyes. Her breath locked in her throat as a flood of pleasure raced through her body. What was happening to her? she wondered in panic. She was furious with this man. He had interfered, bullied, and lied to her from the beginning. But over the past few days it was not anger she felt when he was near, but . . . desire.

  “My lord . . .” she breathed.

  As if conscious of her turmoil, Lord Brasleigh slowly leaned toward her. “Yes, my dear?”

  Lost in each other, neither noticed the arrival of the young footman until he discretely cleared his throat. “Excuse me, my lord.”

  As if caught in a compromising situation, both Bella and Lord Brasleigh scrambled to their feet. It was Lord Brasleigh, however, who regained command of his composure first and stepped out of the stall.

  “What is it?”

  “A message has come for you.” The footman handed the folded paper to the towering lord and with a hasty bow disappeared as swiftly as he had arrived.

  Struggling to regain command of herself, Bella watched as Lord Brasleigh scanned the brief missive and then crumpled it into a small ball. “Blast.”

  With a frown, Bella instinctively stepped closer. “Is something the matter?”

  “It is from my mother.”

  “She is not ill, is she?”

  A wry smile twisted his lips. “My mother takes great pains to ensure that she is always ill.”

  Bella was taken aback by his odd words. “I beg your pardon?”

  “A poor attempt at a jest,” he apologized; then he drew in a deep breath. “My mother is simply a lonely woman who depends upon me to care for her.”

  Lord Blackmar’s earlier condemnation of Lady Brasleigh rose to Bella’s mind. He had claimed that the older woman demanded constant attention from her only child, and that Lord Brasleigh endured it with few complaints. Once again she felt that odd twitch in the region of her heart. “And you do not mind?” she asked softly.

  He shrugged, his features for once lacking that arrogance that set her teeth on edge. “My mother is alone in the world. She was never close to her family, and she never cared for moving in fashionable circles. Her entire life was centered upon my father, and when he died, she turned to me.”

  Bella slowly moved closer. “It is a great responsibility.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, gazing down at her with an odd expression. “At times I regret that I do not have a dozen siblings to help keep her occupied, but there is only me.”

  There was something very intimate in the manner he was regarding her, as if there were no one in the world but the two of them. Bella shivered, knowing she must do something to lighten the mood or find herself clutched in his arms. God only knew what might occur if she allowed that to happen. “Perhaps you should hire her a companion,” she forced herself to quip.

  Thankfully her teasing brought a rueful smile to those dark features. “Brat,” he retorted. “I still do not believe they were all as disreputable as you claim.”

  Bella grimaced. “I assure you they were worse than I could possibly describe.”

  “Why did you not write to tell me your troubles?” he demanded.

  She shrugged, recalling the number of times she had set down to write to her indifferent guardian only to realize that it was a futile cause. “What would you have done?”

  ‘I would have ensured that my secretary take more care in choosing your companions.”

  “No.” She gave a sad shake of her head. “You would have branded me a meddlesome chit and promptly sought a means of unloading me from your conscience.”

  Her thrust slid home, and Lord Brasleigh gave a visible flinch. Perhaps he was not completely indifferent to his arrogant dismissal of her, she told herself.

  He lifted his hands in a helpless motion. “I will admit that I have never quite known what to do with a ward.”

  Bella readily agreed. He had certainly blundered in his choice of companions and then in his insistence that she wed Andre. But then, she couldn’t deny that she had never attempted to make his role any easier. She had not wanted companions, or even to leave her father’s tiny estate.

  “You could have left me in peace,” she suggested softly.

  His brows instantly snapped together. “Allow a young maiden to live on her own on a crumbling estate?”

  She shrugged. “I was happy there. Much happier than when my father would ship me from one household to another, and certainly happier than when you insisted that I travel to your home.”

  “You were alone.”

  Her lips twisted. “I am accustomed to being alone.”

  Without warning, his eyes darkened, and he reached out to gently cup her cheek. “You should not be alone, Bella,” he said in husky tones. “You are a woman who should have a husband to love and a dozen children.”

  A sharp, painfully vivid image of herself as this man’s wife, holding his children, seared through her mind. He would be a passionate, fiercely loyal husband, and a father who would shower his children with love. Most importantly she would never be alone again....

  Then, just as shockingly swift as the image rose to mind, she was jerking away from his poignant touch. Lord Brasleigh was not suggesting that she become his wife. For goodness’ sakes, he considered her no more than a pest. Instead, he was speaking of Andre, who would take her out of his life and allow him to return to London without another thought.
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  A wrenching pain flared through her heart as Bella at last accepted the ghastly truth. Somehow, some way, her willful heart had tumbled into love with the one gentleman she could never have.

  “You mean Andre,” she stated bitterly, her eyes black with her inner distress. “You are nothing if not predictable, my lord.”

  As if caught off guard by her fierce reaction, Lord Brasleigh frowned in concern and stepped toward her. “Bella . . .”

  “No.” She gave a shake of her head as she abruptly bolted for the door. “Just leave me alone.”

  Fourteen

  It wasn’t possible.

  It couldn’t be possible.

  Women did not fall in love with gentlemen who treated them as children and handed them over to perfect strangers. And they certainly didn’t love gentlemen who would subject them to such a deceitful charade.

  Of course, a renegade voice whispered in the back of her mind, they did love gentlemen who accepted their responsibilities and attempted to fulfill their promises. And they loved gentlemen who made them tremble with delight at their slightest touch.

  Bella sucked in a steadying breath as she rushed toward the house. It did not matter how ridiculous her emotions might be, the important thing now was to decide what she would do.

  One thing was for certain. She could no longer remain at Mayfield if Lord Brasleigh were to stay. How could she, when her every glance, her every word might give away her awful secret? It would be unbearable if Lord Brasleigh were to discover the truth. Utterly unbearable.

  But what was she to do?

  Hoping to avoid the other guests, Bella bypassed the front courtyard and instead headed for a side garden. As a rule, most of the household retired in the late afternoon, to rest before dinner. Especially on this afternoon when they would be expected to appear at their best for the upcoming ball. Still, she did not wish to take any risk.

  Predictably, her efforts were in vain. She had barely passed the arbor when Lady Stenhold wandered along the pathway from the terrace. It took only one glance at Bella’s flushed countenance to realize that there was something wrong.

  “Oh, dear,” the older woman murmured with a hint of sympathy.

  Bella felt her heart sink as she realized that there was no avoiding the encounter. “Lady Stenhold.”

  “I sense that you have had yet another spirited encounter with Lord Brasleigh.”

  There was no point in denying the truth. Who else could bring a flush to her cheeks and the combative light of battle to her eyes? She could only hope that the older woman presumed her distress was due to anger.

  “The man is impossible,” she muttered.

  “He is still insisting that you wed Monsieur LeMont?”

  An unconscious hand rose to press to her wounded heart. Who would have thought that unrequited love could cause such pain? All the great poets made it sound like a sweet, melancholy affair, not this throbbing ache in the center of her being.

  “Of course.”

  “And how do you feel about him?”

  Just for a moment, Bella’s heart gave a sudden jolt; then she realized that the older woman had not been referring to Lord Brasleigh. “Oh . . . You mean Andre?”

  “Yes.”

  Bella shrugged. “I like him very much.”

  “But you do not love him?”

  “No.”

  Lady Stenhold gazed at her with a shrewd smile. “Because you love Lord Brasleigh.”

  A shocked silence descended as Bella gazed at the older woman in disbelief. Heavens above, was the woman one of those mystics able to divine a person’s very thoughts?

  Had she not been so stunned, she would have fiercely denied the accusation. After all, the fewer people who realized her feelings, the better. But her scrambled thoughts did not allow for such deception. “How did you know?”

  Lady Stenhold smiled in a kindly fashion. “You do not reach my advanced years without learning a thing or two about love.”

  Bella wrapped her arms about her waist, feelirig utterly vulnerable. It was not a pleasant feeling for a brash, always fearless young lady.

  “It is all so horrible,” she admitted.

  “No, my dear.” Lady Stenhold reached out a hand to firmly grasp her arm. “Love is never horrible. Perhaps inconvenient at times.”

  Inconvenient? Bella swallowed a panicked urge to laugh. Tearing a hem was inconvenient. Losing a favorite locket or being caught in the rain was inconvenient. Falling in love with Lord Brasleigh was near insanity.

  “I do not know how it occurred.” She gave a restless shake of her head. “One moment I was hating him for his interference in my life, and the next I realized that I wished him to pull me into his arms and never let me go.”

  Lady Stenhold did not appear remotely shocked by her confession. Instead, she smiled with a rather strange satisfaction. “The greatest loves often begin that way.”

  This time Bella could not halt her laugh at the ridiculous words. “This is no great love, just a hopeless one.”

  “Oh, I would not say that.”

  “I would,” Bella retorted firmly, not giving herself the slightest opportunity to believe in fanciful notions. She might be unable to control her unruly heart, but she was still in control of her dubious mind. “Lord Brasleigh considers me as nothing more than his ward. Besides, he is determined to see me wed in a matter of weeks.”

  An expression that might have been disappointment settled upon the older woman’s countenance. “Well, we cannot have that,” she stated in firm tones.

  Bella glanced at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you recall that I mentioned my younger sister?”

  Bella gave a slow nod of her head. In truth, she was in little mood to hear reminisces of Lady Stenhold’s past, but she was far too fond of her companion to try to halt her. After all, she was the only one in the entire world who actually cared for her.

  “Yes, of course.”

  Lady Stenhold allowed a fond smile to curve her lips. “Like you, she was very beautiful, and unfortunately, my parents contracted a suitable husband for her before she had ever left the schoolroom. I was already wed and away from home or I most certainly would have protested. Sadly, Rose was of far too sweet a nature to go against my parents, wishes, and she wed a most ill-natured and harsh gentleman. She never protested, but I watched her fade away year after year.” There was a faint pause as Lady Stenhold struggled with her emotions. “She died when she was barely forty.”

  Bella reached out instinctively to pat her shoulder. She was beginning to realize why Lady Stenhold had been so swift to lend her a helping hand. She obviously regretted not saving her sister, so she would save Bella instead. “I am so sorry.”

  “Yes.” The older woman abruptly squared her shoulders. “I did nothing for Rose, but I will not allow you to suffer the same fate.” Her expression softened. “Not that I would ever compare Monsieur LeMont with my sister’s husband.”

  The faintest flare of hope stirred to life deep in Bella’s heart. She would trust this woman with her life. “What can be done?”

  “I have a friend who lives in London. I am certain she would agree to keep you hidden at her house until you reach your majority.”

  Bella caught her breath. She would be away from Lord Brasleigh. Granted, he would be near, but he could hardly conduct a search of every home in London, and if she were careful not to be seen at any of the more fashionable places, she should be safe. At least until she came of age and Lord Brasleigh was no longer in the position to interfere.

  Then her rising excitement was suddenly dampened as logic seeped through her thoughts. “London.” She gave a shake of her head. “I cannot get to London without Lord Brasleigh following me. I am certain that he is having me watched.”

  Lady Stenhold frowned. “Yes, that could be a challenge.”

  Bella was not about to give up without a fight. There had to be some means of getting to London. She could not be so close to safety an
d be halted by such a small problem.

  With an effort, she turned her energies to solving the dilemma. She could not simply flee. Over the past few days, she had become increasingly aware of the same men scattered about the estate with seeming nonchalance. Even the most avid fisherman did not remain at the same spot day after day. Which meant that she would certainly be caught before she had reached the nearest village. And she could not demand to go to London without arousing unwanted suspicion.

  Unless . . .

  A slow, utterly wonderful thought began to bloom in her mind. What if she gave Lord Brasleigh precisely what he desired?

  If she agreed to a marriage with Andre, there would be no reason to remain at Mayfield. They would go to London, and once there, it would be a simple matter to sneak off to Lady Stenhold’s friend. It would also be a perfect opportunity to help Andre.

  If only she could get him to agree.

  “I have it,” she muttered out loud.

  “What is it, my dear?”

  “I will explain later. First I must find Andre.”

  With a hasty smile for her friend, Bella continued up the path and into the house. She could only hope that Andre had not yet retired to his rooms. She wished to have his agreement without delay. The sooner she was away from Lord Brasleigh, the better.

  It took several long moments before she at last discovered the young gentleman in the conservatory. He politely rose as Bella entered and hurried across the flagstone floor to join him.

  “Bella.”

  Not bothering with polite chatter, she grasped his arm. “I believe I have the means of saving both of us.”

  Not surprisingly, he gazed at her as if she might be a bit off in the head. “What do you mean?”

  Bella forced herself to take a moment and gather her composure. Andre would never agree if she were babbling like an idiot. “Tell me, Andre, would you marry Claudette if you could?”

  “Of course,” he reluctantly conceded. “But we both know that is impossible.”

  “Nothing is impossible,” she insisted. “Have you ever considered eloping?”

  His eyes widened at her shocking question. Bella was well aware that she was once again behaving in a decidedly unlady-like fashion, but she was too desperate to care. A modest maiden would have already discovered herself bullied into marriage—a fate Bella intended to avoid at all cost.