The Reluctant Bride. Meg Alexander
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Название: The Reluctant Bride

Автор: Meg Alexander

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия: Mills & Boon Historical

isbn: 9781474016636

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ wailed. “He frightens me! Mama, don’t make me wed him.”

      India laid a firm hand on her sister’s shoulder, enjoining silence as she squeezed it gently.

      “You find him ill-looking?” Isabel returned to the attack. “Let me tell you, miss, that I was married to the handsomest man in London, and where are we now?”

      “I agree that looks are not everything,” India said quietly. “Uncle, I think you said that Lord Isham will return tomorrow?”

      “After noon—possibly at four o’clock, or so he hoped.”

      “Then may I call on Hester in the morning? I haven’t seen her in this age…”

      Sir James hesitated, searching his mind for some reason to put her off. His eldest daughter, with her radical views on marriage, would be certain to advise against the match. Mrs Rushford too had seen the danger.

      “Had you forgot, my love?” she asked sweetly. “The vicar is to call tomorrow. He would take it ill indeed if you were not at home.”

      It was the first that either girl had heard of the proposed visit, but India understood at once. She was to be prevented at all costs from discussing Isham’s offer with the forthright Hester. She turned to her uncle.

      “You are certain that we have nothing left—not even a single guinea, Uncle James?”

      “No, my dear, and I am sorry for it, but there is nothing more to be done.” For some reason the question had disturbed him more than any of India’s previous questions. He gave her a sharp look. India was no fool. She must never guess that to pay off her father’s debts he himself had had to find the balance. It meant that repairs to his own roof must wait, but this was a matter of family honour.

      She did not question him further. Instead she turned to her mother.

      “Mama, shall you object if I see Lord Isham on my own tomorrow? You won’t be well enough to receive him, and there is no need for Uncle to be present.”

      Isabel Rushford looked alarmed. “Nonsense, it is out of the question. It would not be seemly. Besides, I am feeling better already…”

      “I thought that if I got to know him better…?”

      Her mother eyed her with suspicion. “You are inclined to speak out much too freely, India. Remarks such as those you’ve made today would cause him to withdraw at once.”

      “I promise not to cause him to withdraw…” India was playing for time. She was suffocating beneath the pressure brought to bear upon her.

      “That’s my good girl!” Isabel beamed upon her daughter. “You always had good sense, and after all, it is not as though your affections are engaged elsewhere.” She turned to her brother-in-law. “Sadly poor India did not receive a single offer during her Season.”

      “Then that must show a want of taste in our young men,” Sir James replied gallantly. “Now I must take my leave of you, but, my dear girls, do consider carefully. This could be a splendid match for one of you.”

      Letty could scarcely wait until she and her sister were alone. Leaving the radiant Mrs Rushford to her dreams of glory, she seized India by the hand and dragged her downstairs to the parlour.

      “What are we to do?” she cried in anguish. “Mama has set her heart upon this marriage.”

      “I don’t know,” India admitted. “Letty, did you see Uncle’s face when I questioned him about the money?”

      “Oh love, you don’t believe that he would lie to us? He would not withhold a penny that was due to us…”

      “Of course not, but I suspect that all our assets have not met the debt. I think that he has paid the rest himself.”

      “Oh no! That is truly dreadful! But, India, you must not let it sway you. Why did you agree to see Lord Isham? You dislike him so…you can’t be thinking of accepting him?”

      “I had to say something. Mama was in a state and getting worse, and Uncle hated all the fuss…” She sighed. “I suppose that I am hoping for a miracle, but we must have more time. How I wish that Giles were here. He might think of something, and Mama will listen to him.”

      “What could he do? Like the rest of us he has nothing now. The loss of the estate has been a bitter blow. He longed so much to manage it.”

      “I know.” India was lost in thought. “Love, shall you mind if I retire? It’s early, but my head is pounding.”

      Letty was all sympathy, but sensibly she refused to fuss. She knew her sister well. India needed time alone.

      “You’ll think of something,” she announced with confidence. “You always do…” Dropping a kiss upon India’s brow, she left the room.

      India’s mind was in turmoil. Letty’s confidence, she felt, was totally misplaced. For her own part she could see no solution to their problems other than to agree to this repugnant marriage. The Rushford family must no longer be a drain upon the stretched resources of her kindly uncle.

      Her hope now was that Isham would find her unacceptable, but there she was torn with indecision. That might mean that Letty would be forced to wed him. That must not happen. Her gentle sister would be no match for that arrogant creature. He would make her life a misery.

      Perhaps she herself could find a way to make him pay for the ruin he had brought upon them. It was a tempting thought, and revenge would be sweet.

      There were other considerations. As Lady Isham she would have her own establishment, with the powers that an ancient title and vast wealth brought always in their train. And she could help Giles. Her mother would live out her days in comfort, and Letty, with her portion restored, might yet attain her heart’s desire. The reasons for accepting his lordship’s offer were overwhelming.

      Yet every instinct warned her against it. She could not banish the darker side of the bargain from her mind. Isham was everything she detested in a man. He was an inveterate gambler, a roué and above all, one who had little regard for women. Was this to be her destiny, and the end of all her dreams of happiness?

      She lay awake for hours, staring into the darkness, but by morning her decision had been made.

      Next day her mirror revealed little evidence of her sleepless night, apart from a trace of shadow beneath the clear hazel eyes. Her creamy skin glowed with its usual health. As she tugged a brush through the heavy mass of auburn hair she sighed. What would she give now for the services of that fashionable London hairdresser with his gifted way of winding her locks into a style which emphasised her high cheekbones and the clean lines of her profile.

      She did her best, but the result left much to be desired.

      Still, it would not matter to Isham, she decided. He was not looking for a mistress, merely some female who would not disgrace his name and would provide him with an heir.

      Well, she would not disgrace him. Her looks were not in the common way of fashion, but no one would mistake her for anything other than a woman of breeding. An unfortunate turn of phrase, she admitted to herself. It would not be pleasant to be regarded as a brood-mare.

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