by Jayne Davis
“I don’t know; I hope not. Today was the first time I’ve spoken to him for two years, and before then I only saw him occasionally when he visited Marstone Park.”
“You will be able to get to know him now,” he said, hating the sadness in her voice. “I gather that Wingrave is intending to take over from Marstone, whether Marstone wishes it or not. He is too ill to protest.”
“I know.” But she didn’t look too happy at the idea.
Being free of her father’s rule didn’t feel as liberating as Bella had thought it would. It was all very sudden, and although she had never loved her father, now she was beyond his control she didn’t actually wish for his death.
She should be happy at the new possibilities—unthinkable only this morning—but she wasn’t, and the reason was the man sitting opposite. Would things have worked out differently if she’d realised earlier that he was the one she wanted?
Possibly not, if he wanted someone else. Jemima, perhaps.
“Why did your butler come instead of the priest?” She really wanted to ask why he had wanted to prevent their marriage, but she had a sudden fear of what his answer might be.
“Yesterday, I said I would find a way out of it if I could. I hoped it would buy enough time for Wingrave to return.”
“And it did.” She could not regret that Will was back, but she still had little idea what Nick thought—felt—about her.
“Bella, at the ball… Why were you in a room apart with that Port— that Spaniard?”
“Lady Jesson was there, too,” she pointed out. “There was nothing improper.”
“He is a spy.”
“I know that now, but I didn’t when he asked me to…” How much to tell him?
“Asked? What did he ask?” Nick leaned forward, his gaze intent. “And what did you say to him that made him betray his masters?”
“He asked me to marry him,” she said, watching with interest as his lips compressed. “I said no, of course. What I said to him after that has nothing to do with his spying.”
Nick stood up and walked to the window, then turned to face her. “You would keep confidence about a spy?” Although he hadn’t raised his voice, his clipped delivery indicated anger.
Why was he behaving like this? It was almost as if he were…
He was! He was jealous!
A feeling of lightness filled her—this might turn out well after all.
“If Will needs to know, I may tell him.”
“I see.” He turned to the window, his posture stiff.
“Only because Will seems to be in some sort of spy business,” she said to his back. “Are you involved too?”
“No. Yes.”
She moved to stand beside him. “That made no sense, Nick.”
“I am involved, in a way,” he admitted, looking down at her. “But not as much as your brother is. I can claim no right to know on that basis. But I’ve been acting in Wingrave’s place for the last few weeks.”
“Is that how you think of me? As a sister?”
“No! Damn it. Bella, I… I—”
“Oh, good.”
“—cannot regard… What did you say?” All trace of anger had completely gone now, and he looked puzzled. Adorably so.
“I’m glad you don’t think of me as a sister. And I don’t want someone like Senhor da Gama.” She ran her hands down her skirts—she knew so little of the world, and this was going to be embarrassing if she’d misinterpreted his feelings.
“I want someone honourable,” she went on. “Someone who will help me to learn about the world properly, and not order me about as I have been all my life.” She met his gaze. “Someone who likes—loves—me for who I am, not for my father’s influence or my dowry. Do you know anyone like that?”
Nick stared at her as the meaning of her words sank in. Her shy smile, still uncertain, went straight to his heart.
“Me?”
“Only if you feel the same,” she said, her voice wobbling slightly.
He reached out and took her hands, clasping them together between his own. “I do. Bella, did I make a mistake when I prevented our marriage this morning?”
“No.” She looked down at their joined hands. “I didn’t want to get married at my father’s order. I wanted to be free to choose.”
“And you choose me?”
She nodded, and he raised her hands to his lips, one at a time, kissing them both. Her blush was delightful—too much so.
“I didn’t realise properly until Will told me we were not married.”
He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, but she deserved to have this done in style. Releasing her hands, he went down on one knee.
“Bella, will you spend your life with me? Will you do me the honour of accepting my hand in marriage?”
“Of course I will.” She was smiling, although tears glistened in her eyes.
He got to his feet, his hands reaching out to her shoulders. “What’s wrong? I didn’t mean to distress you.”
“I’m not distressed.” Her voice was unsteady as she said it. “It’s just… just…” She swallowed, and dashed an impatient hand across her eyes. “This morning, I was about to be married to someone I thought had been forced into it. Now Will is back and you… I find that you actually wanted it. It is so much to happen so quickly.”
“Bella.” He pulled her towards him, wanting to kiss the tears away but knowing he’d find it difficult to stop at that. Instead, he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. “Cry as much as you like, my love.” Her arms snaked around his waist even as her shoulders shook, but gradually she calmed.
“Carterton!”
Nick muttered a curse under his breath at the interruption, but his annoyance subsided as Bella giggled against his chest. Wingrave stood by the parlour door, his thunderous frown gradually clearing.
He loosened his hold, but Bella didn’t let go. She raised her head enough to speak. “Will, you may wish us happy.”
Wingrave ran one hand through his hair. “You mean you did want…?” He shook his head.
“I didn’t want Nick to be forced into it, Will.” She released him to face her brother.
Wingrave looked into her eyes. “Are you sure, Bella?”
“Very sure.”
“In that case, congratulations to you both!”
Nick shook the hand Wingrave held out.
“Welcome to the family, Carterton. Don’t judge the rest of us by my father.”
“I don’t,” Nick assured him, pleased at the sincerity in Wingrave’s face. “I know it isn’t what you expected when you—”
“Not expected, no, but I couldn’t have picked a better man. Now, I only came to say we should take da Gama to see Talbot, but I can manage that on my own. When I return, you can let me know if you want me to find a real priest today.” He looked at Bella. “The special licence is still valid, but there is no need to hurry into it.”
Nick waited until Wingrave left before speaking. “You deserve a proper wedding, Bella, not a rushed ceremony.” He took her hands in his again.
“I would like to have my family at my wedding,” she said. “But Theresa lives in Scotland, so it will take some time for her to get here.”
“I would like my sisters to be present, too.”
“I can write to Theresa and Lizzie today. I hope Will’s family can come. I’ve never seen them.”
Nick felt anger rise in him at the way Marstone had treated his children, and pressed his lips together against a curse.
“What is wrong, Nick?”
“Your father…”
“He has no power now, Nick. Even if he changes his mind, we are now betrothed, and we have a special licence that he applied for. He cannot stop us.”
“No, he cannot. But we can discuss this later.” There would be time enough for the details. Her earlier tears had gone.
“Oh? What shall we do now?” Her smile, her look, something between shyness and expectation, showed that she had a very goo
d idea.
“We can stop talking,” he whispered, and bent his head towards hers.
Chapter 29
“Would you turn around slowly, please, my lady?” Sarah Fletcher sat back on her heels as Bella moved, examining the pinned hemline of the petticoat. In the two months since Bella had first encountered her, the seamstress had put on weight, and she now looked healthy and happy. Her salon would be ready soon, with assistants taken on and an order book already filling rapidly, thanks to Maria Jesson and Bella herself.
“That’s a lovely gown, Bella,” Theresa said. She and Lizzie were lounging on Bella’s bed in a most unladylike fashion, as they had done when they were all younger. “Such a pity no-one will see it for some time.” She looked down at her own black gown as she spoke, her bottom lip sticking out in distaste.
“We won’t wear our blacks tomorrow, Theresa,” Lizzie said, eyeing the subtle cream and gold stripes of Bella’s wedding dress. “You could have had a much more elaborate gown, Bella; there was time enough. More bows down the front, and more lace.”
“This is all I want,” Bella said. “Too much ornamentation doesn’t suit me.” Fletcher cast a quick glance upwards, and Bella smiled. She had learned her fashion lessons well.
“That’s all pinned now, my lady,” Fletcher said. “Molly and I’ll put the final touches if you can take it off.”
“Thank you, Sarah.” Bella stood as she was unlaced and unpinned, then Fletcher took the gown off to the dressing room. Bella blushed at the memory of other new things stored in there: several items of silk nightwear and an almost sheer dressing robe.
“If only Papa hadn’t died, you could have been married at St George’s,” Lizzie chattered on as Molly helped Bella to don her mourning gown again. “Dozens of people came to my wedding.”
“I don’t know dozens of people, Lizzie. All I want is my family around me.” Including Aunt Aurelia, happy now Will had paid her debts.
“Lizzie didn’t know dozens of people either,” Theresa said. “They only came because of—”
“Oh, stop it, you two!” The twins had always bickered, but Bella had no patience with it at the moment.
“If you’re going to have a private wedding, Bella, why not at Marstone Park? There would have been plenty of room for everyone.”
“It feels like a prison,” Bella said. Not quite so much now that Will was Lord Marstone, and his wife had planned some redecoration for the main reception rooms and bedrooms. But she’d spent a lonely year there after the twins had married, and wouldn’t be sorry if she never saw the place again. “I’m going to arrange the flowers for the parlour now, if they’ve been delivered. Do you want to help me?”
The flowers had been left on the table in the stillroom, and the three of them spent a happy half hour filling vases and bowls before summoning the assistance of a couple of footmen to carry them to the parlour. Connie, now Lady Marstone, was sitting in a chair overlooking the sunlit garden with her feet up on a stool. Bella wondered how much bigger she could get before the baby was born.
“Will I be in your way?” Connie asked, putting her feet to the floor.
“No, don’t move,” Bella said hurriedly. “You’re not in the way at all.” She still felt a little shy around Will’s wife, who had arrived a couple of days ago after travelling up from Devonshire in easy stages.
“We haven’t had much chance to talk,” Connie said. “Will you stay and have tea with me when you have finished your arrangements?”
It didn’t take long for the table to be moved to one side of the room and cover it in a white cloth. With the largest flower arrangement on it, it would do nicely as an altar. Lizzie and Theresa departed for the nursery, and Langton brought a tray of tea.
“This is a lovely parlour,” Connie said.
“It is now. Will let me have it redecorated to look more cheerful.” The pale green walls and patterned curtains made it feel as if the garden extended into the house, even on drizzly days.
“Henrietta is so excited at the prospect of being a maid of honour. I hope she does not get over-tired and make a fuss. Now, who is to attend tomorrow?”
Nick paused in the open door to the parlour, pleased to see Bella talking so animatedly to her sister-in-law. “Ah, Langton said you might be in here.”
“Connie was telling me about their home in Devonshire,” she said, coming over to him with her hands out. “I hope we can visit—it sounds lovely.”
“I’m sure we can.” He glanced at Lady Marstone. “If you will excuse us, my lady, I have something to give to Bella.”
“Call me Connie,” Lady Marstone said firmly, and waved a hand. “By all means, my throat is quite dry from talking.” Her smile made it clear she was teasing.
“Shall we go into the garden?”
They strolled between the beds until they reached the little summerhouse, now cleaned and repainted. The sun was warm, so Nick handed Bella the folded paper as they stood by the open door. “Your brother thought you might be interested in this.”
Goods delivered safely. Roberts. That was all it said. He shouldn’t be worried about her reaction to it, but he had an unreasoning fear that something could still go wrong with their plans.
“Roberts?”
“Your brother asked him to take your Spanish friend home. As a reward for helping to capture Don Felipe and his associates, I suppose.” Lady Brigham had faced no charges, but was permanently exiled to her husband’s country estate.
“Oh. It’s good to know he’s safe.” She dropped the paper on a nearby chair and poked him gently in the chest. “He wasn’t even a friend, Nick, not really. But he had his uses—if you hadn’t been jealous about him it might have taken us much longer to admit to each other what we wanted.”
He should not have doubted her. “Good. We needn’t trouble ourselves about him further, then. Is all ready for tomorrow?”
“Indeed it is. Cook has been busy this past week—there’s enough for all the servants to feast as well.”
“It’s not the wedding breakfast I’m looking forward to,” he said, stepping closer. After the ceremony tomorrow, they would journey into Sussex, to his family home, and they would finally be together properly. “It will be good to have you to myself, rather than sharing you with your sisters and their husbands and your brother’s family, not to mention my sisters treating this place as a second home…” He shook his head.
“I’m looking forward to being alone together,” she said, with a smile and a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I’m sure we’ll find some way to pass the time.”
“We’ll have a few weeks, Bella, but I don’t want to leave Father in London too long without my presence. But the doctors say this illness is a temporary thing, so as soon as he is recovered, we can go anywhere you like.”
She took the final step that brought them together, winding her hands around his waist. “I would like to visit Will and Connie in Devonshire first. Then see where my sisters live, although that is a long way...”
“We can go to Theresa in Scotland, and stop in Yorkshire to see Lizzie on the way—perhaps next spring.”
“Thank you! There are so many things I still don’t know, or haven’t seen!”
“I can see that you’ll keep me busy, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, I’m sure you have another ten minutes to spare before you are needed elsewhere.”
“Only ten minutes?” she asked, lifting her face to his.
“Until tomorrow night.” He hoped no-one was looking out onto the garden, but as he bent his head towards hers, he decided he didn’t care. Ten minutes wasn’t enough for another foretaste of the joys of their future life together, but it would have to do for now.
Epilogue
Oakley Place, Sussex, two years later
Nick finished the letter and sanded it, placing it on top of the notes he’d compiled for Will. Marstone, he should say, but he couldn’t help associating that title with Bella’s father, so the two of them had switched to usi
ng Christian names. Nick still wasn’t sure if Will had taken over all of Talbot’s roles, but he passed on plenty of information for Nick to analyse.
As long as Will never asked him for more than that, Nick thought, wrapping the package and pressing his signet ring into a blob of wax over the knotted string. He had no taste for deception and intrigue, even though he recognised that what Will did was necessary. Nor was he going to risk his own safety when the happiness of his family depended on it.
Beyond the window, white puffy clouds sailed across a blue sky, making a much-needed change from the cool and wet summer they’d had so far. If he knew Bella, she would be outside somewhere with Robbie, bemoaning the fact that she was becoming too big and awkward—again—to go riding.
He rang the bell and asked the butler to have one of the grooms ride to London and deliver the letter to Marstone House. “Do you know where my wife is?” he asked, as he handed it over.
“In the summerhouse, I believe, sir,” Andrews said.
As he approached the structure he heard a murmur of voices and laughter. The summerhouse itself was empty, but Bella and his father sat on chairs in a sheltered alcove in the yew hedge. A table held the remains of afternoon tea.
“Come to Grandpapa,” Lord Carterton said, leaning forward in his chair. Robbie staggered towards him, the nurserymaid holding his hands to support him. Bella regarded them both with a fond smile, leaning back in her chair.
Nick stopped to gaze at the scene, once more thankful that he had chosen this woman to be his wife—and that she had chosen him. Robbie reached his target, and grabbed at Lord Carterton’s knee with a crow of delight. Father was still frail, but was looking better than he had been for some time. Having his longed-for grandson around, not to mention another daughter, seemed to have given him a new lease of life.
Bella looked up as Nick moved forward, and held a hand out to him. “Nick, Papa says he feels well enough for us to take a trip to the coast tomorrow, if this weather holds.” The glance she cast at Lord Carterton showed all the affection she might have had for her own father, had he been a decent man.