Once in the country, all would resolve itself. She believed that. She had to. It was the only thing she could cling to right now.
She placed a couple stockings in her trunk, certain that Minnie would be appalled at her technique and likely redo all her efforts behind her back.
“Were you planning on telling me? Ever?”
Her heart leapt into her throat at the voice.
She whirled around to find Colin standing there, the doors to her balcony cracked open behind him, letting in a frigid breeze she hadn’t noticed until that moment.
“You can’t keep doing this.” She gulped a breath and struggled to steady her pounding heart.
“Doing what?” He arched a single eyebrow.
“Sneaking into my room,” she accused.
“It won’t be a problem in the future, because we will be sharing a room. As husband and wife.”
His words shot a dangerous thrill through her that she quickly squashed. From the way he was glowering at her, this wasn’t a proposal tangled up with professions of love.
“Dios mío, what in heavens are you talking about?”
“Lady Talbot came to visit me tonight.”
“Oh,” she breathed, cold washing over her as realization took hold. Mary Rebecca had not done this to her. She was her friend. How could she have gone behind Graciela’s back and told him?
“Don’t blame her. She was being sensible. Unlike you.” He waved at her half-packed luggage. “Think you can run from this . . . from me? Do you find the notion of binding yourself to me in a permanent fashion so reprehensible?” His gaze flicked down, lingering briefly on her stomach.
She glanced guiltily at her trunks, seeing herself in his eyes at that moment. As a deceiver. She didn’t like that image of herself very much and felt immediately compelled to deny it. To try to explain. “I felt it best if I removed myself from Town. I wasn’t running away. I can hardly do that. I just needed time and space away.”
“From me.”
She inclined her head slightly. Suddenly it felt hard to breathe. “I did not say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” His lips twisted into a sneer and he advanced on her, stalked really, backing her up until she dropped down on the bench positioned at the foot of her bed. She craned her neck to look up at him. “I’ll tell you what is happening. You’re not leaving Town.”
She lifted her chin, resenting his tone. Right or wrong, she didn’t appreciate any man telling her what to do.
He continued, “Tomorrow I will see about posting an engagement announcement and then we will sit Clara and Enid down and explain that we’re to be married.”
“An engagement announcement?” He made it sound so simple.
“Yes, best to have it put out there quickly. There will be some talk—”
“Some?” How could he be so cavalier? “There will be a scandal,” she corrected.
He shrugged. “If we post an announcement, we will be treating this as though there is no shame in it and it’s the most normal thing in the world.”
“It’s not . . . normal.” And everyone would think so. She knew how cruel British Society could be. She’d endured it for years. She expelled a breath. “Colin, we cannot—”
He squatted suddenly before her, seizing her hands in his. “It’s done. You’re with child. You’re carrying my child. We cannot not marry.”
She read the unyielding resolve in his eyes. He was here and ready to do the right thing. Demanding that they do the right thing.
His pale blue eyes drilled into hers. Her shoulders sagged under the weight of that stare. “Colin, this isn’t what you wanted. We don’t—” She stopped and swallowed. “You don’t love me. I’m not the bride you wanted.”
His jaw tensed, a muscle feathering the taut flesh. “But you’re the bride I’m going to have.”
She flinched. He didn’t contradict her. There was no profession of love or tender feelings. That connection she had felt to him withered and twisted into something misshapen, something that didn’t feel good or beautiful.
“Tomorrow,” he stated, his gaze holding hers, waiting for her agreement.
After a long moment, she nodded her assent, not that he was asking for it. Denying him, at this point, seemed foolishness. She didn’t have the will or strength. In fact, she felt very empty inside. What did it matter if he failed to love her? What ton marriage was based on such tender sentiment? When had she ever had that?
Except she was long past the days of being a green girl who endured an arranged marriage and then donned a false face for the world. She was her own woman now. She had earned the right to make her own decisions. She had vowed that if she ever married again, it would be for love.
And yet here she was.
But your choices led to this.
Still, that didn’t stop the hollow feeling from spreading through her as he turned and left the way he had arrived, his strides carrying him away from her as though he couldn’t escape the sight of her soon enough.
She gave her head a slight shake. She was to wed Colin. That thought—that reality—struck her as surreal. As though it were someone else’s thought. Another woman should be thinking it. A fresh-faced debutante. Not her.
Graciela caught sight of her reflection in the cheval mirror. She stared back at herself, valiantly trying to pretend as though all of this were normal—as though carrying Colin’s child and marrying him were not some absurd bit of fiction one would read in a novel. She shook her head and was again swept with another eerie feeling that this wasn’t happening to her. It was a difficult thing to accept that Colin was marrying her. She prayed he wouldn’t later regret it.
Chapter 21
True to his word, Colin arrived promptly the next morning as they were breakfasting. Graciela looked up as he was led into the dining room, her pulse spiking at the sight of him.
Clara exclaimed happily at the sight of him. The puppy yipped and took off from under the table, where she was patrolling for lost food.
Colin bent and scratched the dog behind the ears, murmuring at her in a soft voice.
Colin straightened. The puppy continued to dance around him, still not satisfied and hungry for more attention.
Enid smiled in greeting. “Join us, my lord.” She waved at the empty seat beside her.
“Thank you.” He took his place beside her stepdaughter, sitting tall and erect in his chair. His gaze lifted to Graciela’s as a servant appeared and set a plate before him. He gave her the barest nod. She returned the nod, even feeling shaky as a leaf inside.
She raised her cup of steaming tea to her lips and sipped delicately.
Colin tore off a piece of toast and popped it into his mouth, chewing as he considered all of them. He was still angry with her. She sensed it immediately from his stiff movements. It only made the knot in her stomach twist tighter.
Clara prattled on and Graciela listened with half an ear right up until the point of her daughter suggesting they visit Lord Needling’s daughters, of all people. She stifled a shudder.
Clara sent Colin a coy look amid a giggle. “I do believe Honoria’s older sister, Forsythia, quite fancies you, Strickland. Last time I saw her, she peppered me with questions about you.”
“Lord Needling’s daughters are all very accomplished and eligible ladies,” he said evenly. Graciela recognized the cautiousness of his tone. He shifted in his chair. His blue eyes communicated silently that he wasn’t enjoying the topic of conversation.
She sent him the slightest nod as she reached for the blackberry jam, hoping to convey that she didn’t care for it either.
Clara made a humming noise in her throat, her eyes glinting. “So the rumors are true, then? You are in the market for a bride, Strickland.”
Graciela almost choked on her tea. She lifted her napkin to her lips, smothering the sound.
Enid glanced at her curiously before looking back at Colin. A pregnant pause fell as they awaited his response—and whilst she prayed
for some manner of intervention from this wholly awkward scene.
One corner of his mouth lifted as though he were amused. “Yes, Clara. Yes, it is the truth. I’ve decided to marry.”
Needles of heat attacked Graciela’s face. The irony wasn’t lost on her. She and Colin were about to confess their impending marriage while Clara intimated that Colin should bind himself in matrimony to an heiress barely out of the schoolroom. It was no small bit of absurdity.
“Ah.” Clara nodded knowingly. “I thought as much.”
Enid cleared her throat and arched her elegant neck. “Well, this is grand news. We’re very happy for you, Colin. You’ve chosen the young lady already, then?”
“It’s Forsythia, yes? I am right. Tell me I am.” Clara grinned, clearly proud of her skills of deductive reasoning.
Enid started scooping sugar into her tea with rather intent focus, as though she could not bring herself to look at Colin just then. “Congratulations, Colin. She is a very fortunate young lady.”
His chair creaked as he leaned forward. “Forsythia may very well be a fortunate young lady, for I am not offering marriage to the girl.”
“You’re not?” Clara looked visibly confused.
“You’re not?” Enid echoed, lifting her gaze from her cup of tea.
Clara continued, “But that’s been all the tattle. According to Honoria, even Forsythia expects an offer from you.”
He winced. “I’m sorry if she feels that way, but her father is under no such delusion. He knows that no such offer is forthcoming.”
Graciela’s face burned hotter as she recalled the exact moment that Needling came to understand that no such offer would ever come.
“Oh, this is exciting! Who, then?” Clara pressed, her face brightly eager.
“Clara, do not pry,” Enid chided, shooting a beseeching look for help at Graciela. Usually she would have interceded by now and put an end to her daughter’s inquisitiveness as it bordered on rudeness. And yet she could not even think what to say. She was too riddled with nerves and anxiousness at what was to come.
Colin, on the other hand, appeared all that was relaxed. Handsome and at ease as he cut into a kipper. “You both are intimately acquainted with my bride-to-be.”
“We are!” Clara hopped a little in her seat. She clapped gaily. “Do not keep us in suspense. Tell us, Colin.”
Graciela lowered her hands into her lap beneath the table, twisting her napkin around her fingers until they ran numb.
“Very well.” Colin nodded a few times as he looked across the stretch of table to where Graciela sat, still as a pillar of marble. He arched an eyebrow at her. He was indeed still angry with her. There may not have been an easy manner in which to do this, but he certainly wasn’t taking any pains to make this less difficult.
“Ela,” he said, her name part question, part statement.
Enid followed his gaze to Graciela, the smooth skin of her brow knitting in confusion.
At his pronouncement of her name, Clara glanced at her. “Does Mama know? Oh, Mama, you know! Tell us.”
“I—I—” she stammered beneath her daughter’s barrage.
“Oh, no fair! Mama, you know.” Clara pouted.
“No, it’s not that,” she weakly interjected.
Colin shook his head. “It’s going to come as some surprise to you, but your mother—” He swung his gaze from Clara to Enid. “Ela and I . . . have decided to wed.”
The room plunged into silence.
Even her normally chatter-pot daughter fell silent, her entire expression one of frozen shock with the exception of her madly blinking eyes.
“Did you say you’re marrying . . . each other?” Enid demanded, her stony expression matching her hard tones. Her gaze shot back and forth between them. Gone was the quiet, reserved girl Graciela had come to know. She wasn’t sure quite what to expect from this Enid.
Graciela nodded as Colin confirmed the question with a single “Yes.”
Enid chose then to find her porridge of great interest.
“The engagement announcement should be posted tomorrow,” he added.
“Engagement,” Clara echoed, as though she had never heard the word before.
“Yes. Once the announcement is posted and the special license procured, we will wed. I’m thinking a small ceremony. We can travel to the church in the village neighboring my estate. My parents were wed there. It’s fitting.”
“Mama,” Clara exclaimed with a bewildered shake of her head. She stared at Colin. “But she is older than you!”
Graciela winced.
“Yes, by a few years,” Colin calmly agreed.
Clara digested that, looking from one to the other of them now. “I—I had no idea you were even courting.”
Courting? Her daughter was so sweetly innocent.
This was the difficult part. Lying to her daughter. Telling her daughter their marriage would be a love match when she knew it was not . . . when a love match was everything she had hoped for Clara to have for herself someday.
Enid had gone quiet. She watched Graciela and Colin with narrowing eyes. Graciela swallowed against the lump in her throat. Enid had been just a girl when Graciela married her father. She had not been easy to win over, but they had entered a respectful accord over the last several years. Even with things harmonious between them, Graciela had always felt guarded . . . as though the fragile peace between them could be shattered far too easily. As though that might happen right now.
She twisted her fingers harder in her lap, wondering, as difficult as imparting this news was, how would she soon explain her condition to Clara and Enid? It would become apparent before too long. A hot wave of mortification washed over her. Eventually they would know the truth behind this marriage. She wouldn’t even be able to claim it was a love match at that point.
“We’ve always held each other in great esteem and fondness,” she managed to get out. That, at any rate, was not a lie. At least it had been true before. Staring into Colin’s distant gaze, she wasn’t so certain what was true anymore. Still, the words rang hollow.
“Fondness?” Clara stared at her as though she had sprouted two heads.
She fidgeted in her seat. For all of her daughter’s youth, she was no fool, and fondness and esteem resonated lamely as far as motivations went for Graciela to remarry. Even if the groom in question was so handsome he made a woman’s teeth ache.
“I love your mother.”
Her gaze flew to Colin. He stared back at her, his face impassive. The blunt declaration made her breath catch. Of course, he was lying. They were just words to make their union more believable.
“Oh,” Clara breathed, pressing her hands together over her heart, looking clearly moved.
Sudden laughter broke the spell.
Graciela tracked the source. Enid tossed her head back, her slight shoulders shaking.
“Enid?” Clara frowned.
After some moments, Enid caught her breath and sobered enough to ask, “Are you serious?”
Graciela shared an uncertain look with Colin before nodding.
Enid flattened her palms on the surface of the table and pushed to her feet almost violently, sending her chair clattering to the floor. “Unbelievable.” Her gaze snapped from Graciela to Colin and back again. “First you take my father and now this.” Her eyes, usually a quiet, smoky gray, stabbed Graciela with hot accusation. She pointed at Colin. “Now him. You could have any man you wanted, but you had to have Colin?”
Graciela blinked, her stomach sinking. She cast a quick glance at Colin. His face reflected the same bafflement she felt. Enid was acting as though she had a yen for Colin. But it couldn’t be. She was close to thirty years old. A self-proclaimed spinster. Certainly if she cared for Colin, she would have revealed it at some point over the years.
“Enid,” she began, unsure what to say.
“No!” Enid held up a hand, palm out. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t realize . . .” Graciela shoo
k her head, her face burning with embarrassment. “I—I didn’t know—”
“At this point, you’re an expert at taking everything in my life.”
“Enid,” Colin said, his voice gently reproving.
It was Enid’s turn to shake her head. She turned her gaze on Colin then. “No. I can’t hear anything from you right now. I just can’t . . . not this.”
That said, she whirled on her heels and stormed from the room. Silence fell as they stared after her. Graciela noticed she was breathing heavily and worked to calm herself.
“Well,” Clara finally said with a heavy exhale. She smiled weakly at both of them. “I’m so happy for you both.”
Chapter 22
Colin stayed a little over an hour before he took his leave with the promise to return for dinner. He had a great many tasks to do if he and Ela were to wed posthaste. And he had every intention that they wed posthaste.
Clara beamed, clearly thrilled that he would be back again. Ela, on the other hand, did not look so happy.
Clara watched closely as he leaned down to kiss the back of Ela’s hand.
At the last minute he changed his mind and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. They were affianced, after all. The familiar taste of her washed over him, and he was hard-pressed not to let his mouth linger on her.
She gasped, her gaze swerving to her daughter as color flooded Ela’s face. It was a welcome sight. Ever since he’d crept into her bedchamber and informed her of their impending nuptials, she had looked pale. After Enid’s reaction she’d gone from pale to bloodless. It roused his protective instincts. She was carrying his child. He wanted her well. Happy and healthy. He needed to forget his anger with her. They should begin their marriage on a peaceful note. He needed to forgive the fact that she’d intended to run away and keep her pregnancy a secret . . . at least for a time.
He could understand that she had been panicked and uncertain. They had come together with no promises or expectations.
Now when they came together, it would be forever. A deep sense of fulfillment curled through him that he shied from examining too closely. He’d always cared about Ela. And he had always hungered for her . . . He admitted that now. She satisfied him in bed as no woman before. That was all that mattered. That was enough. More than enough.