The Bride who Loved_A Marriage of Convenience Regency Romance

by Bianca Bloom

  Flora rolled her eyes. “It’s not as if we have to worry greatly, do we, Fran? We’re likely to be married off soon enough,” she simpered, patting her hair.

  Then she looked down the table. “It’s mum and Gracie who may run into trouble.”

  Grace looked up at me. “Where will we go, mama?”

  I was gazing out the window, wondering just when Lord Hamilton Bell would come wandering onto his own property again, and thinking about what Flora had said about marriage. Perhaps she and Fran would be married soon, perhaps not. But it was certain that the state of matrimony solved a great many problems, at least for women.

  “Mama,” said Frances, her voice hushed. “Grace just asked what is to become of us if this Lord Bell turns us out.”

  It wasn’t exactly what Grace had asked, of course, but I cleared my throat and answered. “There’s no guarantee we would have to go anywhere. And if we do need to leave, I have money saved. We can buy some land and build a new house.”

  Flora frowned. “But where would we live, if we had to wait for a new house to be ready?”

  “Maybe here, Flora,” I said to her, looking at her food, which had hardly been touched in all of the drama surrounding the breakfast table. “Or maybe at the inn. I’m not sure.”

  This brought a smile to Flora’s face. “Well, I’d like to live in the village.”

  Frances screwed her face up and began to cry, like a child.

  “Goodness, Fran,” I said, shaking my head. “Flora’s right. It’s not quite as bad as all that.”

  Grace was the only one who had finished her food, and she snuck away from the table as Frances continued her outburst. “Yes, but it’s terribly unjust! If we lived in a different country, then we would own the estate now, not that man.”

  I smiled gently. “Or if we lived in this country, but had an entail with different terms, dear.”

  Even Flora was frowning. “It’s not really fair that women don’t get anything.”

  “It’s not that we don’t get anything,” I tried to explain to her. “In fact, I have paid a solicitor a princely sum to ensure that a good deal of my money remained completely unconnected to the estate.”

  Fran was daubing at her eyes, surprise spread across her face. “Why did you do that?”

  Because I wanted to divorce Gilbert and run away with Adam, I thought, though I didn’t say it.

  “It will serve us well,” I told them. “The more money and land you have of your own, the better. Remember that, you two. It’s true even if you have a son, and the best arrangement is for your husband to know nothing of this money.”

  A mother’s lecture, in this case, worked wonders. Both girls finished their breakfasts, running off before I could continue telling them what they needed to be independent women.

  With a pang, I realized that I had never spoken much with them about those subjects. How were they to know what to do once they were married? With horror, I realized that leaving the house would push us closer to the life that I had been trying to avoid. I was already struggling to keep Flora from making eyes at every unsuitable boy in the village. But if she were going to marry up, she would need to meet at least one suitable young man, not get cow-eyed over every little urchin.

  Frances had not as yet expressed much interest in marriage, but that might change at any minute. And since she had an unhealthy interest in actors and theatre, there was danger from that quarter as well.

  Grace, as the youngest, was not near the age when she had to be worried about getting married. But she might be my most difficult daughter. I thought that I might just be able to buy my family enough time to get the eldest two married off, but what if we were rather impoverished by the time young men started courting Grace? I would not see her married to a fishmonger, but I could not imagine a very easy outcome for her.

  Unless, that is, I did something drastic to ensure my future and hers.

  With a new determination, I stood, just as Esther came to tell me that Lord Hamilton Bell was waiting in the parlor.

  19

  At first, I was shaken by the sight of Lord Hamilton Bell.

  He looked entirely different from the previous day. He’d had a close shave, and his hair was clean, not tangled it had been the previous day. Some of the clothes in his little pack must have been very civilized, because he was wearing an outfit that made him look ready to be, well, Lord Bell. And even in the very little time that he had been in town, he seemed to have gotten a little bit less thin.

  Perhaps he had gone too long without anything to drink, and that was what accounted for some of gauntness in his face.

  Whatever the cause, he looked almost miraculously well. “I trust the inn is comfortable,” I asked him, as I sat across from the little chair where he had stationed himself.

  “Yes,” he said, sitting down after I did, but looking rather ill at ease.

  It would have been false for me to smile, so I simply clasped my hands in front of me and brought up the matter of business that was foremost in our minds.

  “Well,” I said, “Have you given any more consideration to my offer? I could pay off all your debts and taxes, and all I would require would be the house and a small part of the road. It’s more than a fair price.”

  The man shook his head, and I noticed that his hair shook with it.

  “I need the comfort of this house,” he said, sounding rather hungry as he said it. “It’s all that I have left.”

  It was the most sadness I had ever heard in his voice, so I endeavored to counter it with cheer. “Well, if it’s the Isle of Skye you want, there are many very attractive estates in this area. Perhaps you could marry and take one of the homes north of us.”

  “No,” he said, and it came out as a growl.

  Normally, I could deal with angry men, but the darkness in his eyes made me flinch away.

  For the first time, I heard him apologize.

  “I am sorry,” he said, breathing deeply. “I will never marry.”

  Was it something in his look, then? I had been sure that Lord Bell regarded me with just as much approval as his predecessor had. Even when his statements were rude, with a tinge of aggression, his eyes seemed to wander over my body with nothing but lust and regard.

  In other words, I had not expected him to be a confirmed bachelor.

  “You are absolutely certain that you will have no wish to marry?” I asked.

  He nodded. “As I said. All that I wish to do now is pay my debts, then live in this house, where at least I know I will be safe.”

  Safety seemed a rather odd concern, but he was right that the estate itself was not a dangerous one. It was nearly impossible to approach the house unnoticed, at least while it was light, and the Isle of Skye as a whole got rather few ill-meaning visitors.

  He had now wandered over to the window, and was standing with one hand on the sill, gazing out at the bay, frowning over the pastures.

  “May I ask why you do not intend to marry?”

  He raised a hand to his heart, clutching it, then put the hand stiffly at his side, still looking out through the window. “There is not a woman alive that I would trust.”

  I smiled, relieved in spite of everything that my instincts had not been wrong. Usually I was able to tell a man who liked men from a man who liked women, and I would have felt like a fool if I had lost my knack. Although, all told, the entire situation would be simpler if Lord Bell were only interested in male companionship. Then he might be willing to give up the large family home.

  He simply seemed to be angry at all women, and unwilling to seek companionship from any of them, which would probably keep him in a vicious cycle of ill humor. It did not bode well for any sort of friendship between Lord Hamilton Bell and my own daughters. Still, remembering how he had acted quickly and reasonably when I had believed Gracie to be lost, I thought that I might have a solution.

  “I have a way for you to keep the estate and pay off your debt,” I said to him.

 
He stayed at the window. “Seems unlikely.”

  “If you wish to hear it,” I said, putting the steel in my voice that always seemed to frighten my daughters, “You’ll have to come and listen as I tell you.”

  With the ghost of a smile, he came to sit across from me. And when he looked into my eyes, I felt my whole body tremble, and not entirely from fear.

  “I have wished for nothing more than to keep this estate together. But to pay the death duties, and my debts beside? It is impossible,” he said, his voice failing.

  “Not if you marry,” I said, holding up my hand before he could interrupt. “You have a great deal of land, but what you need is capital. I have plenty of capital, but I wish to keep the land that has been mine. In some ways, it would be an ideal match.”

  “Well,” he started, but I held up my hand again. “Please, give it a moment’s thought before you speak.

  There was a moment in which all we heard was the clock and the sea. I hoped that my daughters were not listening at the door, and I had hoped to spare them at least some of the cruder aspects of marriage. This had been the first day when I had realized that, eventually, they would have to learn. But they would not do so by taking on a husband who was bitter and spiteful. That I could do myself.

  “Lady Bell,” he said, “It would be convenient, to be sure. But you do not seem inclined to marry me.”

  “I am inclined,” I said, finally meeting his eyes, “To keep my family together and to keep us in comfort. And, of course, to continue to grow my business enterprises.”

  He snorted. “And you think that you could do all that, even if you had only the estate and a small sliver of the money you had before?”

  I clenched my hands into fists through my gloves, wishing that I could show this man how my hands had been hardened by years of real work. Hard labor was not special burden to me, and I knew that even a great family could easily fall into penury.

  “Yes,” I said. “For what we would lose directly, as owners of the estate, we could regain. With only my fortune and the businesses I own in town, we might do well for a year or two, but our long-term prospects would not be rosy.”

  He still looked troubled. “And you think that they would be rosy with me?”

  I very nearly blushed. It was the wrong word. “I think, Lord Bell, that it could be mutually beneficial.”

  He nodded. “And you would not wish to marry for love? Or to marry some even greater Laird, without such catastrophic debts?”

  My stomach was churning, but I knew that I had to see the negotiation through. Apart from the humiliating sale of the little home that I had shared with Sean, just after his death, it was the most difficult negotiation of my life.

  But it seemed nearly ready to end.

  “I married for love once,” I said flatly, “And it was nearly a complete disaster. I suppose you’re the only one in the village who doesn’t know already, so I will tell you. My first husband, the father for Flora and Frances, drank himself to death when we were both very young.”

  For once, he did not respond rudely. “I am sorry to hear it,” he said, and there was some sincerity in his voice.

  I had not yet finished. “Then I married for social standing and property, as I’m sure you can see. Clearly, I failed to give the former Lord Bell an heir. What you’ll have heard in the village was that he got sent all the way to India to avoid me, as I was such a horrific little shrew he could not bear to be at home.”

  This time, the man had the good sense to be silent.

  “Lord Bell,” I said, looking at him directly again, but without venom. “If I were to marry a husband who expects only that I be a good helpmeet and not publicly disgrace him, it would be the soundest foundation I could possibly find for such a union.”

  “Even if the man did not wish to have an heir,” he said, raising his eyebrows at me.

  It was a rather direct question, but I was not one to slink away from questions of succession.

  “With you, the entail that imprisoned my own family ended,” I said. This was one area where I could feel confident. “If you were to die without an heir, the estate would pass to the person you designated, not to the nearest male.”

  A good thing, too, I thought, since apparently Hamilton Bell was the last male left in the family.

  “If we married,” he said slowly, “You would wish me to leave it to you.”

  “Or to my daughters,” I corrected him. “Effectively, it would be the same.”

  “In that case,” he said, “I suppose that I should continue to stay in the inn.”

  I could not interpret his meaning. Was he saying that he wanted to be safely away from me and my offers of marriage, or that he wished to be there for other reasons?

  “If you are willing to go through with this marriage,” he said, standing again, “We should not stay together in this house in the meantime. It would be unseemly.”

  My heart did not sing at his acceptance, but the knots in my chest did loosen. If I were married to the new Lord Bell, I would be buying myself a good many years.

  I even conceded that he was rightful owner. “Legally, you are the one who should stay here,” I admitted. “My daughters and I would certainly have a place at the inn.”

  He shook his head. “There is no point in inconveniencing them. It will be easier for me to stay at the inn, then move here after the wedding itself.”

  I blinked. There was actually going to be a wedding. And this handsome, resentful man in front of me was to be my new husband.

  Well, the vicar had been right in one of his frequent predictions – God laughed at all my plans.

  “Perhaps we could see the vicar this afternoon,” I told him. “He is usually in between two and three.”

  “Very well,” he said, moving toward the door.

  We both paused, as if we knew that there was more to be said, but neither of us could find the words.

  “Until this afternoon, then,” I told him, and he nodded at me, seeing himself out.

  I walked over to the window. Lord Bell, my new husband! It seemed to bring more problems than it solved.

  The first was the trouble of integrating my little household with a man who seemed to have few social graces, and certainly had a vicious dislike of women. With a sinking heart, I realized that Adam would have to stop visiting me at my home. The risk was simply too great. Even if Lord Bell was only to possess my body legally, not romantically, he might still turn resentful and violent if I went elsewhere to satisfy my desire.

  Of course, if he looked elsewhere for a woman to please him, I would have to play the part of every other woman in the isle, which would be to close my eyes and remain cheerfully blind to my unfaithful husband’s exploits.

  The second problem would be the very real one of debt. Perhaps Lord Bell had agreed to the marriage because he knew that I was paying a very high price for my part in it.

  At the thought of all of the money that I had earned, saved, and treasured slipping out of my fingers, I did feel a moment’s panic, but I knew that it was still the one option that made the most sense. For my daughters, for me, and even for the gaunt gentleman who had just agreed to marry me.

  I hoped that Lord Bell would make a good husband, the type to stay out of his wife’s way when the need arose.

  But I comforted myself that Lord Bell might have a surprise or two coming to him if he did not care to make our marriage an outwardly decent one, at the very least. He did not know my trump card.

  Since he wished for none of the traditional elements of a marriage, ours would never be consummated. And that would allow me to annul the match just as soon as Adam was ready for marriage. Until then, I could keep my daughters in the grand house, and with any luck at least two of them would be married off before I had to rearrange our lives. Once Adam had the money, I would simply get the “marriage” with Hamilton Bell annulled, with the very real threat of public spectacle to hold over the new Lord Bell’s head. Adam and I could leave S
cotland, Gracie in tow, and after many years of waiting I would finally have a husband who loved me and the financial foundation upon which we might live.

  Clearing my throat, I stood. There would be a great many arrangements to make before the wedding itself, even if it was to be small and private, and before that I had a certain amount of work to do.

  It was time for me to tell my daughters.

  20

  I described their reactions to the vicar later, much to his horror, in front of my fiancé.

  “Flora wanted to know if now she and Fran could go to more balls,” I said. “And Grace, of course, asked primarily about the ponies.”

  “What did you tell her?” asked Lord Bell, and as his eyes met mine, I felt a flash of excitement. It was ridiculous – he was not even a real gentleman, and yet for a moment, I felt as if we made a most authentic pair. A bride and groom, sharing a private joke.

  The vicar shook his head. “Just because your daughters are taking a rather simpleminded view of this, Lady Bell, does not mean that you are to do the same.”

  I sighed. “I am not being simpleminded, Vicar. I have given the situation much thought.” I almost said that I had prayed over it, but the dear vicar would have known better than to believe me.

  “What about you, sir?” he asked, turning to Lord Bell. “Have you also considered this?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I confess that I was surprised by Lady Bell’s proposal, but I have had all morning to consider her idea, and I feel it to be by far the wisest one.”

  “We would like to hold the ceremony as soon as possible, Vicar,” I told him.

  He sighed deeply. “May I ask why the haste? There would be nothing untoward about a longer engagement. And, if you’ll forgive me, Lord Bell would find a welcome temporary home at the vicarage if the inn did not suit.”

  Again, Lord Bell and I exchanged a glance. I wondered whether I could say anything about his debts. The vicar was certainly against debt, preferring that his congregants be neither borrowers nor lenders, though he accepted that in business credit was sometimes an evil that was very difficult to avoid. Gambling, though, he would certainly scorn.