Page 89 of Tempting the Highland Spy
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Spoken your vows?” Grace repeated the words. Surely she’d misunderstood.
Belle nodded. Given the way she kept swallowing, it looked as though she was holding back tears. “Donnal is my husband.”
“When did this happen?”
“Before we left New York… Before my father died.”
“Good heavens, this is quite a surprise,” Grace said, as much to herself as to Belle.
“My father could not abide my relationship with Donnal. Father thought he was a scoundrel after my money. Actually, he tended to think every man who was interested in me was more interested in an heiress than a woman. If he’d had had his way, he would’ve used his influence to send Donnal from New York, bags in hand. He didn’t understand that I loved him.” She wrung her hands again. “So, Donnal and I stole away, found a preacher, and ensured that my father could not legally separate us.”
“Oh, dear.” Grace rubbed her jaw, easing a sudden ache. “How did your father react to the news?”
“Father never found out. He died the next night, before I’d even had a chance to tell him—I hadn’t even returned from running off with Donnal. We arrived in the city the morning…the morning his valet found him…dead.”
“How terrible for you.”
“It was a nightmare. My mother has been gone for so very long. I was only a toddler when she died in childbirth. All of my memories of childhood centered around my father. He was a good man. To learn that he’d died while I’d run off and disobeyed his wishes…the realization crushed me. And then, the papers started their campaign to ruin me. Donnal and I had an alibi, but that wasn’t good enough. They wanted to blame me, the Notorious Heiress.”
Grace put her arm around Belle’s shoulders, reassuring her. Her voice trembling, Belle went on. “The headlines screamed that I’d wanted my father’s money. How very ironic. I didn’t even inherit his fortune.”
Though spoken in a hushed whisper, the words jarred Grace like an explosion. Belle met Grace’s gaze, brushing away a tear that had escaped her control. “Oh, I’m not penniless,” she said. “Not by a long shot. One of the trusts Father set up provides well for me. But other than a quarterly stipend doled out by a lawyer in New York, I have no control of the funds until I reach my twenty-fifth birthday in September.”
A melodic voice called out Belle’s name. Evidently, Lady Edythe had recovered from her megrim in record time.
“Here…in the gazebo,” Belle responded, smoothing the emotion from her voice.
Lady Edythe’s shoes crunched over a few twigs, and at one point, it sounded as if she’d stumbled over some foliage, but she managed to make it to them unscathed.
“Good heavens, it’s quite the challenge to find you,” Lady Edythe said, glancing down at a bit of dirt on her formerly pristine shoes. “I do hope Donnal will hire a groundskeeper to bring this jungle under control.”
“Soon. I take it you’re feeling better.” Belle’s tone was tepid as lukewarm tea.
“I suppose.” Lady Edythe looked down at her shoes again, lips pinched in annoyance. “That vein in my head is starting to pound again.”
“This is the most peaceful place. I adore the scent of wildflowers in the spring,” Grace said. “Fresh air may ease your megrim.”
Lady Edythe rubbed her temples. “I do hope I feel better before dinner. I’m looking forward to making Mr. Thornquist’s acquaintance. I hear he’s quite charming.”
“I’ve never met the man. My courtship with Donnal was like a storm rushing through. There was no chance to meet his friends.” Belle stared down at her hands, seeming to search for the right words. She managed a wan smile as she met Lady Edythe’s narrow-eyed gaze. “As the wedding festivities commence later this week, it’s comforting to have dear friends that I can turn to. I’d wanted this wedding so badly. I’d wanted to wear a glorious gown and walk down the aisle of the church. But I hadn’t realized how isolated I would feel in this castle…away from everyone I loved.”
It didn’t seem possible, but Lady Edythe’s mouth looked even more pinched. “Oh, Belle, you will grow to love this place,” she said. “Just as you love your man.”
There’s no way out.
Belle’s words echoed in Grace’s thoughts. They’d sounded like a confession, the tremulous tone of her voice reflecting what seemed true anguish.
If she’d spoken the truth, she was already wed to Raibert.
Alone in her room as she laid out her garments for dinner, Grace pictured Belle’s face. Had the sadness in her eyes been genuine? Or was the woman conducting a masquerade of her own, for reasons Grace could not fathom?
Such a pity she’d never mastered the art of controlling her emotions. Grace sighed at the thought. For years, Aunt Thelma had stressed the importance of never allowing her heart to control her actions. Grace had been a woefully pitiful student where that lesson was concerned. If the heiress had intended to stir Grace’s sympathy, she’d succeeded in grand style.
Why had Belle and Raibert concealed the speaking of their vows? The heiress had only intensified her notoriety by running off with a man everyone believed was not yet her husband. Belle had longed for a beautiful ceremony, the wedding of her dreams. That must be why she’d kept the truth a secret.
Had her words reflected second thoughts about moving to this remote estate?
