Mistaken Bride. Renee Ryan

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СКАЧАТЬ “Perhaps this will spark your memory.” Will reached inside his coat and retrieved what looked like a letter. He unfolded the worn parchment and thrust it toward her.

       Rearranging the sleeping baby in her arms, Bridget took the letter. The handwriting with its soft, looping scroll clearly belonged to a female.

       A female that was not her.

       Nevertheless she read each word slowly, carefully, and soon realized she was holding an acceptance letter. The woman had agreed to become this man’s bride. Not just any bride, his mail-order bride.

       Bridget tried not to gasp aloud. She’d heard of such things. The potato famine had left many families destitute, eager to latch on to any lifeline, even if it meant marrying a stranger and moving far from home. But as she looked at Will from beneath her lowered lashes she decided he didn’t seem the type who needed to pay a woman to marry him. He was too handsome, too inherently confident, too…masculine.

       Women should be lining up to become his wife.

       Yet he’d sent all the way to Ireland for a bride.

       Hands shaking, Bridget turned over the letter and skimmed to the bottom. The signature read Bridget Collins.

       He did, indeed, have the wrong woman. Sorrow settled inside her heart. The sensation made her feel as though she’d lost something important, life-changing.

       She sighed.

       Without meeting Will’s gaze directly, Bridget returned the letter to him. “I was right. You have the wrong woman.” Her voice wasn’t quite steady, even to her own ears. “My name isn’t Bridget Collins. It’s Bridget Murphy.”

       For a long, tense moment he looked taken aback by her words. He swallowed once, twice and again, each time harder than the first.

       “You did not write this letter?”

       “I’m sorry, no.” Why she felt the need to apologize, she couldn’t say. But he seemed truly shocked by the news and she wanted to make everything better. If only she knew how.

       “I see.” He glanced down at the baby. Understanding dawned in his eyes. “You are already married.”

       “No. I am not. I—”

       “Forgive me.” He took a step back. A very large step, the gesture confirming her worst fears. He thought Grace was hers and she’d had the child out of wedlock.

       “The baby isn’t mine,” she said in a halting voice.

       “Of course not.” He turned to go.

       “No. Wait.” She reached out a hand to his retreating back then quickly curled it around the baby once more. “Please.”

       He swung back around to face her, a question in his eyes.

       Although she knew she would never see him again, she couldn’t bear him thinking ill of her. “This is baby Grace,” she said past the lump in her throat. “I’m holding her for my sister.”

       It was the truth, if not entirely accurate. The situation was far too complicated to explain in a few succinct sentences.

       “I understand.”

       Did he? Oh, his words were kind enough, but in the next instant he gave her a formal nod of his head. The gesture was cool, polite and an obvious dismissal. Yet he didn’t leave right away. He just stood there staring at her.

       “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” She meant every word.

       “As am I.”

       Once again he turned to go. This time he stopped himself before he took the next step. “Might I ask you one last question?”

       “Yes, of course.”

       “Do you know Bridget Collins?”

       She searched her brain, reviewing all the women and girls she’d met on board the Annie McGee named Bridget. It was a common enough name, so much so she counted four off the top of her head. None of them had the last name Collins, though, not that she remembered. Then again, she hadn’t known most of her fellow passengers’ full names.

       Collins. The name triggered a memory, one Bridget couldn’t quite grasp. There was a Collins family back in Castleville and there were several daughters among the eight children. Had there been a Bridget among them?

       Yes, that must be why the name sounded familiar. “I’m afraid I don’t remember meeting your Bridget aboard ship.”

       “Pity.”

       It was, indeed.

       “Thank you for your understanding, Bridget, I mean, Miss Murphy.” He shoved his hat onto his head. “I apologize for disturbing you and the child.”

       A heartbeat later he was gone, disappearing into the crowd to continue the search for his bride.

       Feeling oddly lost without his company, Bridget watched him weave through the maze of people and piles of luggage along the wharf. He moved with masculine elegance, the fluid motion proving he was a man used to controlling his body, confident in who he was and exceedingly comfortable in his own skin.

       It was a very attractive, heady combination of traits. Just watching him made her feel very feminine.

       In spite of the awkwardness of their meeting, Bridget had liked him. Even now as she watched him search for his bride, concentrating only on the faces of women near her same age, she felt a pull of—something. Something strong and lingering and very, very pleasant. Attraction?

       Maybe.

       Or perhaps the sensation was simple curiosity. Yes, that must be it. She couldn’t possibly find this man attractive when she knew the potential for heartache. Her sisters claimed she was a romantic, but that did not make her naive. Giving in to curiosity, she wondered what possible scenario would induce a man like Will to seek out a mail-order bride, a man with undeniable breeding, wealth and good looks.

       Before she could contemplate the matter further, Nora returned.

       “I found our luggage,” she said, a wee bit breathless, her eyes shining. “It’s on the other side of the gangplank, about a hundred yards down.”

       When Bridget merely blinked at her, Nora indicated the spot with a jerk of her head.

       Realizing she was expected to respond, Bridget nodded.

       Eyebrows pulling together, Nora made an impatient sound deep in her throat. “What’s wrong with you? You don’t seem yourself.”

       “I… It’s…nothing. I’m simply preoccupied.” That was true enough. “There are so many new things to see and hear, to feel, to comprehend. My head is spinning.”

       “It’s all very exciting.” Nora reached out her arms. “I’ll take Grace now.”

       Bridget handed over the baby without argument.

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