Page 46 of Bride By Mistake
But to her amazement, Papa laughed—actually laughed at being so rudely interrupted—and patted the child’s head. He took the parcels from the waiting servant and gave one to the woman and the other to the little girl.
She sat straight down—down on the grass in her pretty pink and white dress! And nobody reprimanded her for it! She ripped open the parcel and gave a squeal of delight and pulled out… Gloriana.
Hugging the doll tightly, she jumped up and ran to Papa again, and he picked her and the doll up, laughing as she planted kisses all over his face. All over his face, and yet Papa was laughing.
Then, holding the little girl in one arm—even though she was far too big to be carried—he slipped his other arm around the woman and they all went into the house together.
Like a family.
Bella watched with burning, bitter eyes. She felt sick, furious, betrayed.
And she hated the horrid pretty pink and white creature who’d stolen her doll.
And her father.
Papa returned home late the next day. And when Bella ran to greet him as that little girl had, he frowned and told her it wasn’t dignified to run like that, and had she been a good girl and studied her book? No hug or even a kiss, just a pat on the head.
One of the servants must have told him how Bella had asked about the people who lived in the white house in the next valley, because Papa called her into his study and explained that the lady and her daughter were relatives.
Bella didn’t believe him. Relatives visited. They didn’t hide away in the next valley. Not that she cared who the lady and the little girl were; she still hated them.
It was only later, when she was twelve and Papa was leaving to fight in the mountains, that he told her the truth; that she was old enough to understand that many men had mistresses, and no doubt her husband would keep one, too, but she was not to worry about it.
Such things were never discussed or even acknowledged by ladies in polite society, and she should never mention Esmerelda or Perlita to anyone other than himself. If it was ever necessary for him to mention them in a letter or message, he would refer to them as his jewels—his emerald and his pearl.
Bella must have looked sour at that, because Papa had taken Bella’s hand and explained that a mistress and any children she bore were, of course, to be looked after—it was a man’s duty to do so—but they were not a man’struefamily. Perlita, the little girl, was her half sister, but Isabella was more important to him than Perlita could ever be.
Bella didn’t believe his assurances. She’d seen the hugs, the kisses, and the doll, and over the years there had been many other presents—she’d made a point of sneaking a peek into his bags whenever he returned, and the things he brought Perlita were always much finer than Bella’s gifts. She knew which daughter was Papa’s duty and which daughter received his love.
But she promised to do her duty by Esmerelda and Perlita and to make sure they were well looked after in Papa’s absence. Promised faithfully.
After a fitful night’s sleep, Luke woke to a chilly gray dawn. Under normal circumstances he would rise, break his fast, and continue on his journey, but now he had Isabella to think of.
Yesterday had been a long, hard day for her, emotionally as well as physically. Leaving her home of eight years would have been a wrench, and she’d be stiff and sore from riding all day. He’d let her sleep as late as she wanted.
And with a good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast inside her, she might be in a better mood.
She would put on a tantrum or two, he felt sure, but he’d remain firm. He was the husband, after all, and her role was to obey. Another three or four days’ travel and they’d reach San Sebastian, and from there, depending on the winds, they could be back in England in as little as a day.
He lay in bed, dozing for another two hours, and at nine o’clock he rose, washed, dressed, packed up his things, and went downstairs. He ordered breakfast—a proper English one with eggs and ham and thick fried slices of the spicy local sausage. One could not ride for hours on a couple of rolls and coffee.
Luke finished his breakfast, had a third cup of coffee, and glanced at his watch. Time she woke. He called for the landlady. He’d send her upstairs to wake— No. He rather fancied the idea of waking Isabella himself, seeing her all warm and sleepy from her bed.
The landlady came in. “Sí, señor?”
“Another breakfast, please. The same again, only this time on a tray.”
She beamed. “Another one,señor? You must be very hungry.”
“It’s for my wife.” Luke jerked his head upstairs.
The woman followed his gesture with a puzzled expression. “Your wife,señor? But she has already eaten.”
“Already eaten? When?”
“Before she left,señor. She drank a cup of coffee and took somejamonand bread and apples for her journey.”
“Before shewhat? When was this?”
