Lady Rosabella's Ruse - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,77
seemed to straighten and he nodded. ‘Yes. I am sure.’ He glanced at the pile of parcels. ‘Aren’t you going to open them?’ He grinned like a boy caught in mischief. ‘I am sure you will like them.’
‘These are all for me?’
No one had bought her gifts since her mother died.
‘Mmm.’ He pushed two of them aside with his foot. ‘Those you might want to open in private.’
She eyed him askance. His dark eyes danced and her tummy hopped. ‘Personal items.’
‘You really should not have spent your money on me,’ she said. ‘Not when you have the expense of my sisters and—’
He held up his hand. ‘Do you think I want my wife walking around in rags?’
‘Well, no, but—’
His mouth took on a stubborn line. ‘Don’t criticise before you see what I have brought.’
By rejecting his gift she’d insulted him, perhaps even hurt his feelings. Though it was hard to tell, for his mocking smile had returned and he sprawled carelessly on the nearby sofa as if he didn’t give a damn.
She smiled. ‘I’m sorry. Your generosity is appreciated, my lord. I merely didn’t want you to get into debt or anything when you have already done so much for me.’
He looked a little mollified. ‘A few kickshaws and gewgaws will not put me in the sponging house.’
She was glad to hear it. From what little she knew of the rakehells and bucks who lived in town, they more often than not found themselves in the River Tick.
He must have seen the doubt on her face. ‘Don’t give me that look. I’ve been dibs in tune for years. Haven’t spent a night in the King’s Bench since I gained the title. And besides, now I’m a peer, they can’t arrest me.’
But they could lose everything they owned. Wives and children could end up on the street. Many had since the end of the war with France.
Her hand flattened on her waist. Of course, she didn’t know yet whether or not she was with child. It could be at least a week or more before she knew.
She knelt on the floor to hide her sudden flush of embarrassment at the thought she might be carrying a child and undid the knots in the string. The paper parted to reveal a silk gown of the most beautiful shade of rose.
‘I thought you might wear that at the wedding.’
Her wedding. And his.
She lifted the gown from the paper and held it up. Silk roses, a deeper shade than the gown, decorated the sleeves and the festoon of silk above the deep hem of embroidered lace. Despite the intricate decoration, the gown was feather-light in her hands. An extraordinary dress. Striking. The deep colours perfect for her complexion. ‘It is lovely. Where on earth did you find such a beautiful gown at such short notice?’
He gave a deprecating shrug. ‘A seamstress I know. She owes me a favour or two.’
The reason was clear. Whoever this dressmaker was, she would have provided gowns for his women. The pang was painful and raw. Jealousy. How could she be jealous? There was no love between them. At least not on his side. Theirs was a marriage of convenience. As time went on, the more it seemed it was her convenience, for he had nothing to gain from this wedding.
To hide her thoughts she opened the next package and the next, and the one after that. There were morning gowns, and a ball gown, and handkerchiefs and scarves. Even a couple of bonnets and a riding habit.
‘Do you ride?’ he asked when she pulled the royal-blue velvet out of the tissue paper. It was the most gorgeous habit she had ever seen.
‘Yes, I do.’
He looked pleased. ‘We can ride out together in the mornings, if you like. I’ll purchase a mount for you.’
Expense after expense mounted up. Guilt rolled through her. He hadn’t wanted to be married and now he was being forced to spend a fortune.
She looked at the piles of gowns and the lovely fabric lying across her arms. ‘It’s too much.’
A flicker of pain darkened his eyes. Gone so fast, she could not be sure she had seen it at all. Indeed, now she looked at him, his smile mocked her. ‘Only by entering the ton yourself can you introduce your sisters to society. Consider this part of our bargain.’
A bargain. That was all this marriage was to him. ‘Thank you, my lord. You are generous.’
His mouth tightened, probably at her lack of enthusiasm. But