Page 29
Luke addressed himself to his breakfast. Isabella didn’t hold a grudge; he had to give her that.
She was a fighter—he liked that about her, too.
He liked that she’d ripped into him when she thought he hadn’t given her her due.
She was angry and she’d told him why. No having to guess.
No petulant miffs and silent, female sulks.
She’d given him an earful and a couple of angry thumps. Open and straightforward.
And now it was over. Thank God.
He watched Isabella licking sugar from her fingers. She wasn’t at all the quiet, conformable bride he’d expected. He was very glad she wasn’t. One thing was certain: he wasn’t going to be bored. She would lead him a merry dance—a huff of laughter escaped him—she already had.
She tilted her head with a quizzical look. “Something funny?”
“Just wondering if you knew how to dance.”
She shook her head. “Only country dances from when I was a child. Dancing wasn’t taught in the convent. Is it important?”
“No, I’ll teach you.”
“I look forward to it,” she said softly, and the look in her eyes told Luke she really had forgiven him for accusing her of entrapment. Something loosened in his chest.
He put his napkin down and pushed back his chair. “If you’ve finished, we’d better get moving.”
H is bride was good company on the road, too, Luke discovered.
She made observations here and there, but they were interesting ones.
She wasn’t like some women he knew, thinking it their role to fill a silence—any silence—with aimless chatter.
Nor was she the sort who expected a fellow to entertain her.
With Isabella, sometimes they rode in silence, other times they’d talk. It was easy, effortless. A bit like traveling with his friends, only more interesting, because he never knew what she’d say.
She asked him about his family, and he told her about Mother and Molly and Molly’s come-out, which had been delayed so many times. “You’ll like Molly,” he finished. “She’s fun and very sweet-natured. Everyone likes her, and she’ll like you, I know.”
Isabella pulled a wry face. “Maybe.”
“You doubt it?”
“She probably had one of her friends lined up to marry you. She won’t be at all pleased with you bringing home a foreign wife who isn’t even pretty.”
He shook his head. “Molly isn’t like that. As long as I’m happy with you, she’ll be happy, too.”
“Then that’s the question, isn’t it?”
Before he could respond, she broke into a canter and forged ahead of him. He raced after her, caught up, and cantered alongside her until their horses began to tire. When they slowed to a walk, he leaned over and caught hold of her bridle, bringing them both to a halt.
“Molly will like you.”
She gave him a wry look. “Even though I’m difficult and disobedient and quarrelsome?” She wasn’t talking about his sister’s opinion.
He smiled. “I’m not exactly a bundle of laughs, myself.”
“You were quite lighthearted when I first met you” she said softly. “Not during the fight, of course, but afterward, when we were traveling.”
He shrugged and looked away. “People change.” He signaled his horse to walk on.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, then she said, “So you don’t think Molly will mind me being difficult at times?”
He didn’t respond. Did she think he was foolish enough to give her carte blanche?
“Reverend Mother used to say I gave her more trouble than all the other girls in the convent.”
“She told me you were a treasure to be cherished.”
Isabella turned an astonished face to him. “Truly? Reverend Mother said that?” She considered it. “Aunt Serafina Reverend Mother? About me? A treasure? Are you sure?”
He found himself smiling again. “She did. She told me to take good care of you.”
“Well!” She was clearly astounded. A little smile played on her face.
Then she shook her head. “Why is it that people only tell you the bad things to your face, never the good things? She never once called me a treasure. A plague, yes, a pest, an imp of Satan—” She broke off, clearly feeling she’d said too much.
He laughed. “Perhaps she thought praise would ruin your character.”
She shook her head. “No, I’ve received very little praise in my life. I still get into trouble all the time.”
He laughed again. “Why am I not surprised?”
She gave him a quick smile. “In my own defense, and looking back in time, there was no pleasing Papa.” A wistful expression passed briefly across her face. “No matter what I did, I was never good enough.”
“Why not?”
She grimaced. “I should have been born a boy.”
He thought of the way she’d looked in those breeches, the beauty of her naked on the bed, the eagerness with which she’d made love to him, and said firmly, “Now there I have to disagree.”
She gave him a half smile. “Very gallant, sir. But Papa preferred Perlita. She is very pretty, very feminine.” She spoke lightly, but there was real pain underneath.
Luke frowned. Again, that comment that she wasn’t pretty.
It was partly true—she wasn’t what the world called pretty—but that was far from the whole story.
Her features were too bold, too unconventional for mere prettiness, but she had the kind of looks that compelled a man to stare.
Luke could hardly drag his eyes away from her.
“As for prettiness,” he began.
She cut him off. “Please don’t offer me empty compliments,” she said briskly. “I know what I look like, and I cannot change it.”
“But—”
“No.” She gave him a fierce look.
A defensive look, he saw. It was a touchy subject. Why, he didn’t understand, but he could appreciate touchy subjects. He had a few himself. But there was more than one way to storm a battlement. Though now was not the moment.
“So as a child you were very naughty?”
She gave a gurgle of laughter. “Oh, I like the ‘as a child.’ For that I thank you, even if you have probably perjured your soul. But the truth is, as a child I was painfully good. I was so hungry for Papa’s approval.
But it never did me any good. He could not see me, I think.
Only the Mama in me, and he did not love Mama.
” Again that wistful expression, then she shook her head, as if to clear it of unhappy memories, and went on, “And in the convent, everyone there was trying to please God in every way, and He never showed any approval, either. So in the end I decided not to try to please anyone, but to do what I thought was right, myself.”She added with a mischievous look, “That’s what you get for leaving me there for eight years. ”
Luke laughed. “Minx. So if you run me ragged, it’s my own fault?”
“Exactly.” She smiled. “It’s lovely to hear you laugh, Luke. For a while there I thought you’d forgotten how.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29 (Reading here)
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54