Lady Rosabella's Ruse - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,55

crossed the other man’s face. He pulled Lady Smythe against his side.

‘Mark, it isn’t his fault,’ Lady Smythe said.

‘Whose fault is it?’ he said.

She hung her head. ‘Mine. I came here with Mrs Mallow. I— Stanford has done nothing but tell me to go home since he arrived. You have to believe me.’

Her husband looked from one to the other, then put out a hand and heaved Stanford to his feet. ‘It seems I owe you an apology.’ He still sounded dangerous, but the hostilities were apparently over. ‘Perhaps one of you can explain what is going on?’

Rosa inhaled a deep breath. It seemed her help was not needed and eavesdropping was making her feel very uncomfortable. Besides, she had no wish to run into Stanford. He’d try to stop her from leaving. Oh, goodness, if she wanted to make the stagecoach leaving the village at nine, she would have to hurry. She spun around and continued on her way, letting herself out of the back door just as a yellow bounder pulled into the courtyard.

‘You the young lady what ordered the chaise?’ the postilion asked, swinging down from his mount.

Lady Smythe wasn’t going to need her rented post chaise now her husband had come, was she? And there was no faster way to reach London. She winced. The fare would use up a good deal of money, but it was just too fortuitous an opportunity to pass up.

‘Well?’ the postilion said, frowning at her valise. ‘Payment due in advance.’

‘Yes,’ she said, raking in her reticule. ‘Yes.’ She counted the coins into his palm until he nodded his satisfaction. ‘Let us be off at once.’

She climbed aboard and settled back against the seats. As the coach pulled away, a heavy lump settled in the depths of her stomach. Stanford would not be pleased she’d gone off without a word. She pressed her hand to her suddenly hot cheeks. He’d actually asked her to marry him. For an instant of madness she had let herself dream they could have a future. He’d managed to steal a piece of her heart when she wasn’t looking. But it would be wrong to marry a man who saw her as an unwanted responsibility. It was no way to begin a marriage. No matter how hard she wished it wasn’t so, once she was gone, he would no doubt heave a sigh of relief and thank heavens for a lucky escape.

Her chest tightened and she pressed a hand to it to ward off the pain. It was no good wishing. She must put the whole thing down to experience and move on with her plans. With Lady Keswick’s letter of introduction, she was sure to find a good role with an opera company and put Stanford’s allure behind her.

Her hands went to her belly. What if she was carrying his child? She pushed the thought aside.

She could only deal with one problem at a time.

Chapter Ten

‘Mrs Mallow lured her here,’ Garth said. ‘Your wife never let me or anyone else near her.’

Penelope’s innocent green eyes widened. Her rosebud lips formed a small O of surprise. No doubt she thought he was going to tell tales on her for flirting with Bannerby. Well, she’d have to own up for herself.

And if Mark wanted a brawl, he would give a good accounting of himself, because he wasn’t the guilty party.

Mark raked his fingers through his normally neat fair locks. ‘Why the hell didn’t you just put her on a coach and send her home?’

He shook his head. ‘If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, old chap, it’s never get between a man and his wife.’

Mark leaned close. ‘You really are a bastard sometimes.’

‘All the time,’ he said coolly.

‘Dammit, Garth. You know I didn’t mean it that way. I’m just too angry to choose my words carefully.’

Mark was one of two people who knew his secret. Him and Kit, his brother, apart from his dear mother, of course. ‘I’m glad you finally arrived.’

‘I found Penelope’s note.’

Penelope stared at him. ‘I thought you would be home days ago.’

Mark’s face turned grim. ‘I was delayed.’

Penelope froze, then shrugged. ‘I had decided to leave anyway. It’s all been perfectly horrid.’

He smiled down at his wife. ‘Then I am glad I am in time to escort you.’ He pulled her close. ‘We’ll talk more when we get home.’

Nauseated by the expression on his friend’s face, Garth turned away. Heaven forefend he would ever look so besotted. ‘Well, this is all