Vicar's Daughter to Viscount's Lady (Transformation of the Shelley Sisters 2)

They were back at the Royal Oak and the carriage was waiting. ‘Congenial? I hardly know. They came to the funeral, of course, and made duty condolence calls, but I cannot say I know any of them.’

‘But surely you know the neighbourhood very well?’ Bella settled back against the squabs, thankful for the physical comfort after the aching misery of the stage the day before.

‘I have not lived at the Hall since I went to university.’

‘But you must have visited frequently?’

‘No.’ It seemed he had not intended to expand on that monosyllable, but the surprise must have shown on her face. ‘My mother died just before I went up and then my father had a hunting accident while I was at Oxford. I assumed Rafe would want me to manage the estate—he had no taste for that kind of thing and had made it plain often enough that it bored him. But it appeared he felt more…territorial about it than I had foreseen.’

‘He rejected your offer of help?’

‘He accused me of wanting to take over, usurp his position in local society. For some reason he appeared to find me a threat. I was young enough to be hurt, and for that to appear as temper. We had a blazing row, I punched him on his very beautiful nose—you may have noticed the slight bump—and that was that. We hardly exchanged a civil word for eight years and I was persona non grata at the Hall.’

‘How awful. I cannot imagine being at odds with Lina and Meg. And you were both very young—if only you had been reconciled later.’ How strange of Rafe. Surely he would have welcomed a brother’s help with the country estate he seemed not to have cared for? Without thinking, Bella put her hand over Elliott’s. It was stiff and unresponsive and she lifted her own away, feeling she had erred.

‘It was doubtless good for me, as things turned out. I was forced back on my own small inherited estate. I learned to run that and how to invest wisely. Then I turned to speculation—mines, canals, housing—and found I had the knack for it. Rafe felt I dabbled perilously close to trade for one of our class and made that clear whenever our paths crossed in Town.’

‘Rafe seemed unused to rural life,’ Bella murmured. ‘He was out of place in the country, I thought.’ Elliott made no response, so she blundered on, ‘I expect he was much happier in Town. He was so sophisticated in our little village. He seemed to be polished, somehow, like a gemstone, all hard glitter.’ Stop talking about him. I don’t want to remember, Elliott does not want to hear this.

She had been nervous at the thought of London society. Then Rafe had told her that she made rustication in the sticks bearable, that she would convert him to country living, to the fresh purity of the simple life, and she had believed him and been comforted. Now she saw his lies like layer after layer of deceit.

‘Oh, yes, Rafe was polished. You will find that I am less so. Less polished, more direct. I belong to the Corinthian set—sportsmen. I box, I drive, I race. I attend prize fights.’ That explained the lean, hard look of him. ‘Do you find the thought of those kind of activities distasteful?’ Bella shook her head. If truth be told, she found the idea rather exciting. The picture of Elliott, stripped to the waist, fists raised, made her pulse race.

‘And perhaps I am even more demanding than he was.’ She was unsure how to respond to that—was it a threat or a warning? ‘Here we are at Mr Lewisham’s offices.’

Bella leaned back against the squabs and stared rather blankly at the passing countryside. Her heart still felt hollow, as though Rafe, wrenching himself from it with his harsh words, had left it wounded. But now his face was becoming mercifully blurred with Elliott’s; his voice was lost in the other man’s. She wished she could tell Elliott everything, bring herself to talk about that dreadful afternoon in the tithe barn, tell him what Rafe had said and done and how she had felt. But she must hide her deepest feelings from his brother, who had his loss to contend with. Elliott clearly knew how badly Rafe had let her down, but however much Elliott might have been estranged from Rafe, he had wanted to make peace, she was sure. How could she tell him how foul his brother had really been to her?

And, besides, he did not need the fact that she was plain and naïve and unsophisticated reinforcing. Rafe had made that clear; Elliott had eyes, too.

She sat up straighter and tried to take an intelligent interest in the scene outside. It appeared they grew a great deal of fruit, hereabouts. She saved that observation up to make conversation later. A lady discussed neutral subjects of interest and she very much doubted that she had as many of those as a viscountess ought to be able to muster.

It would help if she did not keep thinking about those piles of clothes. Elliott was right, of course, she had to look the part, but even so, he could hardly have been expecting to outfit a wife who did not even bring her own trousseau with her.

‘What is worrying you now?’ Elliott asked, making her jump.

‘How do you know I was worrying?’ she asked to put off answering.

‘Your teeth were caught in your lower lip, and you were frowning. Is there something you want to ask me?’

‘I wanted to thank you for all the lovely clothes.’

‘I told you, it is necessary that you look the part.’ He sounded a little impatient.

‘I know. The gowns and bonnets and so on, I understand about that. But the other things.’ She could feel her cheeks warming. ‘The…undergarments and the nightgowns. I have never had pretty thin

gs like that before; it was kind of you to buy those for me.’

Elliott’s mouth twitched, she could see out of the corner of her eye. Bella turned on the seat so she could look at him directly. ‘Why are you smiling? Have I said something amusing?’

‘No, forgive me. It is just that a man really needs no praise for buying things that contribute to his own pleasure.’

The amusement had been replaced by a curve of his lips that reminded her acutely of Rafe, just before he kissed her, and it took a sick moment for his meaning to sink in. The carriage went through a deep cutting in the road and shadow fell into the small space, almost hiding Elliott’s face. It gave her courage to utter the question. ‘You mean you expect a…a real marriage?’ she said all of a rush as they emerged into sunlight again.

Chapter Six

‘A real marriage as opposed to what, exactly?’ Both Elliott’s dark brows winged upwards.

‘What we will be doing. Or not doing. I mean, we are marrying in the expectation that the baby is a boy, your heir. So we would not need to…to share a bed afterwards. If it was. A boy, I mean. If it is a girl, I can see you would want an heir, so…’ But that was a long time away, she did not need to think about that now.