Page 7 of The Lady in Pearls
At this, she raised her eyes and he saw sorrow in their honey brown depths.
“I have none. Even this gown is borrowed.” She plucked at the skirts, revealing two dainty black boots.
“Borrowed?” he echoed with shock. How was it she had no clothes, no possessions? Surely that damned criminal of a father had left her plenty to live on.
“Yes. I… I thought you understood the circumstances I was in, my lord. I would not have agreed to the auction otherwise.”
Lachlan was left speechless, until his friend gave a short cough.
“Er… Huntley, might I have a word with you?” Stirling jerked his head toward the door and released Miss Westfall’s arm so he and Lachlan could talk in private.
“What is the meaning of this? Where are her clothes?” Lachlan growled. He had no desire to buy anything for the woman. His entire plan of revenge called for doing the exact opposite, allowing her barely enough to survive.
“Huntley, I didn’t want to mention this, since it seems to be a delicate matter, but the reason I held the auction was to get the poor woman off the streets.”
“The streets?” Miss Westfall had been selling her body to survive? “You promised me a bride, not a trollop.”
Stirling’s eyes flashed dangerously. “She isn’t one. She was, I suspect, considering the possibility when I came across her. She was standing in an alley, scrambling for coins tossed her way. Do you have any idea what she must have gone through? A gentle born lady left begging for scraps?”
The pain in Stirling’s eyes was genuine, and Lachlan wondered how bad off Miss Westfall really was. He glanced over his shoulder at his future bride, who stood at the foot of the stairs, eyes once more downcast, one hand tucked in the pocket of her gown.
“You must take care of her. I know that William’s death has been hard on you, but perhaps this marriage will heal you--heal you both.”
Healhim? Nothing could mend the bleeding bits of his tattered heart. William’s loss had left a gaping hole inside him, and nothing and no one could ever fill that.
Lachlan turned and walked past Miss Westfall toward the door. “We should be going. We have a long journey ahead of us.”
She looked up at his approach, and for a second he saw hope in her eyes, calling to him, but he smashed down the urge to respond in kind.
“Ready?” he asked coldly.
She nodded and looked at his arm expectantly. He did not offer it.
Stirling called to him as they stepped outside, “Huntley, I meant what I said.”
Lachlan did not reply as he opened the coach door for his acquisition. She climbed inside and he followed, settling back on the seat opposite her.
The coach rattled into motion and for a long while Lachlan wouldn’t look at her. He kept picturing her in a tattered gown, ankle-deep in icy water as carriages and people passed, no one looking her way, no one caring about her. He mentally gave himself a shake.
I will not pity her, I will not let this creature crawl beneath my skin.
She was the daughter of a man who had destroyed many lives, a man in prison for crimes that had led William to take his own life.
Lachlan felt her gaze on him and, at last, looked her way.
“What?” he demanded in irritation.
“Why did you do it?” she asked, her head tilting as if in puzzlement.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do what?”
“Bid on me. It’s abundantly clear that you do not like me. Why did you attend the auction? Have you had second thoughts? You had plenty of time after seeing me to walk away. You did not have to write anything down on that paper. I would’ve been happy to go with any of the other gentlemen.”
The thought of her going home with another man, of having his vengeance denied, filled him with quiet rage.
“I wanted you. That’s why I placed my bid.” His growling response would have made any sensible woman know that the discussion was over. But not Daphne. The timidity he’d seen in her the previous night wasn’t there anymore.
“You certainly aren’t acting like a man who wants me.” She seemed to regret what she said. “I don’t mean—”
