Page 12 of Spellbound
“Time for what?”
“To know one another. To discern if what is between us is real or simply infatuation… But there is another option.”
“And what is that precisely?”
“We could marry.” The moment the words escaped him, he knew that it wasn’t simply an option. It was the only option. It was what he wanted above all else. “Weshouldmarry.”
She shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’ve been insensible for days.”
“I know that when I was unconscious, I could feel your touch—gentle, tender. I know that nothing in my life has ever offered me so much comfort or soothed me in such a way.”
“It’s part of the curse?—”
“This is not a curse. I will not deny that terrible things have happened to your family, that your past has been difficult… but a curse is a burden, Belladonna, and you will never be that. Be my wife. I will work every day to ensure that you never have cause to regret it.”
There was no answer. Indeed, both of them were stunned into silence when the door to Belladonna’s cottage opened and both Mrs. Eugenie Frye and his sister walked in. Edwina’s eyes went wide with shock, then narrowed in immediate disapproval.
Edwina was the first to speak. “What is the meaning of this, Desmond? You cannot have been here in Miss Goodwynne’s cottage for the past several days. What were you thinking?”
Mrs. Frye simply looked from one to the other, her gaze passing from him to Belladonna and back. Then when she spoke, he could have bowed at her feet in gratitude.
“That is it,” she began. “You will have to marry. There is no other choice.”
“There is a choice!” Belladonna insisted. “There is always a choice. No one need know that Mr. Crane was here but the four of us and he is only here because he was too injured to travel further and too injured for me to leave him alone to get word to you.”
“Someone will find out,” Edwina offered in support. “Someone will always find out. If there is one thing I know aboutHighgate-on-Trent, it is that the community thrives on gossip… And you, Miss Goodwynne, are their favorite subject.”
“Reverend Stalker would never allow me to cross the threshold of his church, much less be married there, Mrs. Hollander. Can you imagine the row it would cause if we asked him to perform the service?” Belladonna stepped away from him as she spoke, putting greater distance between them. “I cannot imagine how one manages to be both the officiant and the protester of such a union. And he would protest. Loudly and at length.”
“Then we shall go to London,” Desmond suggested. “We shall go to London and marry by common license. When we return here, you will be my wife and far beyond the reach of Reverend Lynden Stalker.”
TWELVE
Belladonna stared at the three other people in the room. Eugenie was her dearest friend and now her friend had taken the opportunity to maneuver her into marriage. A complete romantic, she would simply see herself as giving fate a helping hand. As for Mrs. Hollander, she didn’t know her. Not really. She didn’t know how much she could count on her not to spread the tale far and wide that she had been alone for days with the very handsome and virile Desmond Crane. He was her brother, but it wouldn’t be his reputation that would be damaged by the rumor. Only hers.
A dozen arguments came to her mind. A dozen reasons racing through her thoughts as to why marriage was a terrible idea. In the end, she didn’t utter any of them. Not because they were baseless or lacked support, but because she didn’t want to. Marrying him—being his wife—was a dream come true, and a dream that she couldn’t run from out of fear. Mrs. Hollander was right, after all. Gossip was currency in their small village and her name was often bandied about, fairly or unfairly. Even a hint of gossip of the magnitude of her current situation and all of Reverend Stalker’s attempts to run her out of town would come to fruition.
“Not London. Nottingham. It’s closer,” she said. “But not until you are well. It will be days yet before you can travel safely.”
“It will be safe enough for me in a carriage. We will leave in the morning,” he insisted. “And tonight you will not stay here alone, not after all that has happened. His contempt of you—I could not bear it if something were to happen to you, Belladonna. Come to Highwood Abbey.”
“No. She will stay with me in town,” Mrs. Frye said. “You may collect her at my home tomorrow morning and depart for Nottingham from there. It is on the way, after all. It will be, given everything that is already problematic with Bella’s reputation, the best option all around. No one will be able to find fault with that or take exception to it.”
Bella nodded. “It would be better. You can rest and recover today and I shall see you in the morning.”
“Mrs. Frye,” Mrs. Hollander said, “If I may use your gig to ferry my brother back to the Abbey, I shall send it back to you here that you may see Miss Goodwynne safely into town.”
“No… Edwina, you and I will remain here. Mrs. Frye and Belladonna can stop by the Abbey on their way back into town to send our carriage for us. It will be easier for me to travel and to be quite frank, I’m not entirely certain I could manage to climb into a gig right now without falling on my face,” Desmond informed her.
“He’s been in and out of consciousness since the day of his att?—”
“Since the accident,” he corrected her. “It was an unfortunate accident.”
Belladonna noted his expression, one that asked for her cooperation. And since she wasn’t really inclined to go into detail about all of the ugliness she had suffered at the hands of Reverend Stalker, it was much easier just to go along. “Yes.It was a terrible accident and one that could well have been prevented,” she stated with emphasis.
“And it will not happen again,” he said firmly.
Edwina and Mrs. Holland both appeared to be quite perplexed by the interplay between them. To avoid further confusion and further questions, Belladonna simply capitulated. “Let me gather a few things and then we can depart, Genie.”
