The Stolen Bride. Brenda Joyce

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СКАЧАТЬ there was no one more dependable or more kind. One day, he would be the family patriarch, and every problem and crisis, both personal and otherwise, would be brought to him for resolution. She admired him tremendously; he was her favorite brother.

      Tyrell paused before her and she was very pleased to see him. Tall, muscular and dark, he smiled at her. “I am relieved that you are all right. I saw you from a window and when you dismounted, I feared something was amiss.”

      Somehow Eleanor forced a smile. It felt sad and fragile. “I am fine. I decided to let Apollo graze, that’s all.”

      Tyrell’s dark blue gaze was searching. “You were never one to dally in bed, but I thought we had an understanding that you would not ride about this way while we have so many guests.”

      Eleanor tried to keep smiling, but she avoided his eyes now. “I had to take a gallop this morning.”

      He was blunt. “What is wrong?”

      She stiffened, Sean’s image filling her mind. Oddly, she thought she could feel him with her now, somehow. Shaken, she glanced around, but only a gardener and his boy were passing on the lawns behind her.

      Tyrell caught her free hand. “Most brides would love some extra beauty sleep, sweetheart,” he said kindly.

      “Extra sleep will hardly make me shorter,” she managed tartly. “True beauties are not as tall as most men—and taller than their own husbands.”

      His smile was brief. “Have you decided that you wish a taller husband? It is a bit late to change grooms.”

      Damn it, her first thought was that her head barely reached Sean’s chin—even in her boots. Dismayed Eleanor bit her lip. “I am very fond of Peter,” she somehow said. “I don’t care that we stand eye to eye when I am in my bare feet.”

      “I am glad, because he is very smitten with you,” Tyrell said seriously. “Last night during the dancing, he could not take his eyes from you. He also partnered you three times. A fourth time would have been scandalous.” He laughed.

      Eleanor did not. “That is because I am a ghastly dancer, missing every other step.” She met his gaze. “Do you really think he is smitten? I am bringing a fortune to the marriage.”

      “It is rather obvious that he is besotted, Eleanor. Why are you crying?”

      Eleanor tensed. She was ready to tell Tyrell everything, she realized. She so needed a confidante. “Tyrell, I am confused,” she heard herself whisper.

      He gestured at a stone bench, his expression kind. Eleanor handed him the stud’s reins and walked over, sitting down, that odd desperation coming over her. “I do care about Peter. He is so witty and so considerate, and I have enjoyed the time we have spent together. You know I detest balls, but these past few months, with Peter attending me, I really haven’t minded.”

      “He has been good for you, Eleanor,” Tyrell said seriously. “The entire family is agreed on that. He is turning you into a rather proper and conventional lady.”

      “I have truly tried to be ladylike,” she said.

      Ladies don’t lie, they don’t steal and they don’t spy, Elle.

      Panic overcame her and she stood. “Tyrell! Sean is haunting me now. I can’t do this! I really can’t! We should call off the wedding— I don’t care if I remain an old maid on the shelf!”

      His eyes were wide. “Eleanor, what has brought this on?” He spoke with a wary tone.

      “I don’t know!” she cried. “If only we knew where Sean was—if only we knew what had happened to him.”

      Tyrell was silent.

      She filled that silence. “I am aware that you think he’s dead. I know what the Runners said. I still miss him,” she whispered, and to her shock, she realized she missed him so much that it was like a knife stabbing through her heart.

      Tyrell put his arm around her. “You have loved him your entire life and he has been gone for four years. I am certain a part of you will always miss him. Peter is a great match for you, Eleanor, in every possible way, and I cannot tell you how pleased I am that he is genuinely in love with you, too.”

      She barely heard. “But how can I really go through with this when I am feeling this way? I am so unsettled! I almost feel as if Sean is here to stop me from going forward! I am going to be Peter Sinclair’s wife. I am going to bear his children. I am going to live in Chatton.” And she gazed pleadingly at her brother.

      “Even if Sean were here, which he is not, would it really make a difference?”

      “Of course it would!” Then she flushed. “I comprehend your point. He never cared for me the way that Peter does. I know that, Ty. Why do I have to be thinking of him now, of all times?”

      “All brides become exceedingly nervous before their weddings, or so I have been told.” Ty smiled reassuringly at her. “Maybe you are looking for excuses to delay the event, or to even walk away?”

      She studied him. “Maybe you’re right. What should I do?”

      Tyrell touched her. “Eleanor. You waited for almost four years for him. What do you think to do? Wait four more years for his return?”

      Her heart wished to do just that. She finally said, “He’s not dead, Ty. I know it. I feel it. He is very much alive. He has hurt me terribly, but one day, he will come back and tell us what happened and why.”

      “I hope you are right,” Tyrell said grimly. He put his arm around her again. “A very wise person once said that we do not choose love. It chooses us. True love never dies, Eleanor.”

      “What am I to do?” she begged.

      It was a thoughtful moment before Tyrell spoke. “Frankly, I am not surprised that now, on the eve of your wedding, you would be tormented by thoughts of him. Given the past, it would be odd if you did not think of him now. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that you should forsake your marriage to Sinclair.”

      Eleanor started. “What do you wish to say?”

      Tyrell hesitated.

      Eleanor seized his sleeve. “Ty, you may be frank.”

      His jaw was tight. “I wish for you to have a life of your own. A home and family of your own, a future with the joy of children. Sean has never returned your feelings, and we do not know where he is or if he will ever return. Sinclair is offering you a genuine future. I think it would be mistake for you to jilt him now. You will not find this opportunity again. Not because of your age, a hindrance enough, but because Sinclair is such a good match for you.”

      Eleanor realized she did not care for his meaning. She slumped onto the stone bench, consumed with despair and doubt.

      Tyrell spoke again, with great care. “Sinclair is an honorable man. He is, by birth, nature, breeding and character, a true gentleman. I do think, should you go through with the wedding, he might have some trouble ruling his roost. But I don’t think he will care! He has fallen in love with you, Eleanor, and I very much approve of that. Are you genuinely considering breaking the contract СКАЧАТЬ