Page 89 of To Bed the Bride
“Does he know?”
Eleanor forced a smile to her face. “He wouldn’t want me if he did know, would he? I’m going to tell him, Deborah. This marriage you want so desperately isn’t going to happen.”
Deborah came so close that Eleanor was certain the older woman was going to strike her again. She closed her eyes, willing herself to absorb the blow without a sound.
It didn’t come.
“You fool,” Deborah said softly. “You’re a spoiled, obstinate girl who’s trying to ruin us all.”
Eleanor opened her eyes at the sound of the door closing and the snick of the key in the lock.
A few hours later her aunt was back, a cup in her hand. She pulled up the lone chair and sat, facing Eleanor on the bed.
“Drink this,” she said, holding it out. “It will make you feel better.”
Eleanor was always so hungry and thirsty that she took the cup eagerly.
“It’s a special tea,” Deborah said. “Something to make you stronger.”
Had her admission worked? Had her aunt realized that the truth would change Michael’s mind?
She began to drink the tea. It was hot and liberally laced with sugar, but it still tasted terrible, a strong mix of herbs and something that reminded her of licorice. When it was finished she handed the cup back to her aunt.
“Listen to me,” Deborah said, very softly. “I’ll not repeat this, Eleanor, so it’s important that you listen well.”
She looked at her aunt, nodding.
“Hamilton knows some unsavory people. Regretfully, so does Jeremy. The type of person who would think nothing of taking a few pounds for a despicable task. Breaking a leg, for example. Or even garroting someone.”
Her voice was low and menacing, the match to the look in her eyes. There was no pity there, no compassion or empathy. At that moment Eleanor believed Deborah, knew that her aunt would stop at nothing to achieve her aims.
Had she always been as ruthless?
“I’ve given you something to ensure that you don’t carry a bastard, Eleanor. You’ll begin to feel the effects shortly. If you mention being with Logan to Michael I will have McKnight killed. It will be ridiculously easy to do.”
She could only stare at her aunt.
“As for your wedding night, you’ve been on horseback since you were a child. Michael knows that. He won’t be able to tell you’re not a virgin unless you tell him. It’s your choice, Eleanor. McKnight’s life or your marriage. Which is it to be?”
Once upon a time, when Deborah had first come to Hearthmere, Eleanor had wondered if her aunt would become her second mother. That had never happened.
Now she knew it never would.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Who did you say you were again?” the majordomo asked.
“Mrs. Campbell. Mrs. Althea Campbell. A native of Inverness. I promised my cousin that if I ever made it to London I’d look up Miss Craig. He was a great friend of her father’s, you see. Long did they know each other. In fact, my cousin helped him with his horses.”
“Miss Craig isn’t accepting visitors, I’m afraid.”
The majordomo was as autocratic as any London servant. Fortunately, he also had a voice that carried. Logan didn’t have any difficulty hearing the two from his position inside the carriage.
“Is it sick she is? Oh, no, how dreadful. I’ll be sure and send word that she’s ill. He’ll be so upset, what with how fond he was of her father. Will I be able to leave her my card? Or this note I have for her?”
He expected the majordomo to refuse, but to his surprise the man took both the card and the envelope containing the carefully constructed letter they’d written. It was an innocuous message, in case it didn’t reach Eleanor. In it, Mrs. Campbell had expressed her wish to meet Eleanor and waxed eloquent about a nonexistent cousin. If Eleanor did happen to read it, it would only confuse her, perhaps enough to ask for Mrs. Campbell to return.
Until they’d arrived this morning and Mrs. Campbell had knocked on the door of the Richardses’ townhouse, they hadn’t known where Eleanor was. Logan had gone to Queen’s Park for two straight days at different times. She hadn’t been there. At least the majordomo had indicated that she was still in London.
