Page 9 of The Earl's Heiress
“My dear, with the scandal already swirling—how you were found, upon the ground in the rain, kissing a man—you shall have no hope of any marriage at all. It is being said you were caught in a tryst. No one will heed explanations that you were being saved, not when the manner of it was so…salacious. Now, I strongly believe that once Lord Stanford and your father have spoken, there will be an announcement. Your father said he seemed a decent and honorable man, despite what others say.”
Tears burned behind Bella’s lids, though she refused to let them fall. “Perhaps he will refuse. He may despise being forced to marry a perfect stranger.”
Her mother’s lips curved, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “With your dowry, he will not refuse.”
Cold pierced Bella’s heart. She leaned forward and clasped her mother’s hand. “Mama, this would not be the first scandal in society, nor will it be the last. I am certain Lord Stanford and I could both endure it. I do not wish to marry—”
“The earl would not survive another scandal.”
Bella stilled. “Another? What do you mean, Mama? Has he been embroiled in something I ought to know?”
“I am sure he will confide in you when you are his countess. Now, you must not overtax yourself, my dear. I shall have refreshments sent up, and we will not speak of this again until your father returns.”
With that, her mother rose and departed, closing the door softly behind her.
Bella stared after her, hating that her tears spilled at last. How had it come to this? A light rap sounded at the door, and Winnie peeked in—her most mischievous sister, eyes bright with curiosity.
“May I come in?”
Bella hastily brushed away the betraying tears. “You are already halfway inside,” she said, attempting a smile while concealing the dread that pressed against her heart.
Winnie slipped over the threshold and closed the door behind her. She had an uncanny gift for appearing whenever secrets were about to be revealed.
“How much did you hear?” Bella asked softly.
Winnie feigned surprise, pressing a hand to her chest. “Are you suggesting that I eavesdropped?”
“Out with it,” Bella said with mock sternness.
Her sister’s lips curved. “I think it is the most charming story. You met Lord Stanford by chance, and now you are to marry him!”
Bella waved the notion aside. “You must not get ahead of yourself, Winnie. We do not know for certain that it will come to pass.”
“Oh, I am sure it will. Tell me—” she leaned forward eagerly—“is he handsome?”
Bella’s heart gave a painful squeeze. “I did not have a proper look at him. You do remember that I was hurt, don't you?”
Winnie narrowed her eyes, unwilling to be denied. “You may not have had a proper look, but you saw him.”
“Yes,” Bella admitted. “And from that fleeting glance… he is handsome.”
“And an earl, no less.”
“Indeed,” Bella said, rising from the chaise and flinging herself onto the bed in a most unladylike fashion, staring up at the ceiling.
“And did he truly kiss you? I heard Papa speak of the kiss of life.”
Bella’s pulse quickened, heat rushing to her cheeks. “He did—but it is not what you think. Lord Stanford believed he was saving me. He was merely breathing into my mouth. Everyone insists on misunderstanding.” Her throat ached; the injustice of it cut deep. Once again, her choice was being stripped from her. She wanted to shout. She wanted to weep.
Winnie swooned dramatically against the bedpost. “I think it is quite chivalrous. Romantic, even.”
“Stop it, Winnie. And dare I ask how you learned of the kiss of life?”
“I overheard Mama and Papa this morning.”
“Overheard? More like eavesdropping.”
Her sister giggled, entirely unrepentant. “You know me too well. Mama is positively thrilled at the prospect of your marrying an earl. She calls it fortune’s favor. Imagine—you haven’tattended a single ball, yet already you have a suitor. You are lucky, Bella.”
