Meg Alexander

The Reluctant Bride


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India smiled encouragement at the younger girl. “Mama needs rest above anything. Then, when she is feeling better, we shall tell her of our plans.”

      “What plans are these?” Sir James bent a keen gaze on his nieces, thinking as he did so that they could not have been less alike. No one would imagine that they were so closely related.

      Letty was a full head shorter than her sister, and so slender as to appear almost elfin. That look was emphasised by her crop of fashionably short blonde curls atop a pair of dark blue eyes. A beauty, he decided, but to his mind India cast her into the shade.

      Beside those of the younger girl, India’s looks were striking. There was character in that face, with its strong jaw and noble brow. The much-despised auburn hair was drawn back smoothly into a chignon, beneath which surprisingly fine black eyebrows soared above the great hazel eyes, framed as they were by sooty lashes.

      Sir James smiled to himself. India had no trace of vanity, believing herself to be so plain.

      Yet in one respect she had seized correctly upon the reason for her lack of offers. Even at first glance it must be clear to the most casual observer that this was a woman to be reckoned with. There was resolution in those sweetly curving lips, and a stubborn tilt to her chin. He sighed. Such qualities were scarcely at a premium in the marriage market. As a wife India was unlikely to be biddable.

      Not for the first time he regretted the close proximity of Mrs Guarding’s Academy. So many of the local girls had gone there. Had he known that his own daughter would be exposed to the radical thinking of that redoubtable educationalist he would have sent Hester to a more conventional school for the children of the gentry. Greek, Latin and philosophy indeed! Of what use could those subjects be to any sensible woman? And that was not the worst. Both India and Hester had now what he could only describe as an odd kick in their gallop. Both were inclined to speak out as boldly as any man. These notions of independence would never do.

      With a sigh he returned to the matter in hand, addressing Letty. She, at least, had some notion of what was acceptable feminine conduct.

      “What plans are these?” he repeated.

      Letty returned his smile, but she shook her head. “India will tell you,” she said shyly.

      “India?”

      “Uncle, we are trying to decide on something,” India admitted. “We cannot continue to rely upon your help.”

      Sir James was not altogether surprised. He could understand her dislike of what she must regard as charity.

      “And what have you considered?” He was determined to press her, knowing better than she that there were few options open to delicately nurtured girls thrown penniless upon the world. “You will not, of course, wish to leave your mother?”

      “We may have no choice, but I heard yesterday that a teacher is to leave Mrs Guarding’s Academy. There may be an opening there.”

      “Teaching, my dear? Shall you enjoy that way of life?”

      “Enjoyment cannot be our first consideration,” India said quietly. “It would mean that we could stay here in the village. To take a post as a companion or a governess would mean leaving Mama. I’d like above all things to avoid that for the present until she is feeling better.” She raised her head. “Is the doctor leaving? I thought I heard a carriage. Surely he will speak to us before he goes?”

      “It isn’t the doctor.” Letty had been gazing through the window. “We have another visitor.”

      “Anyone we know?”

      “I don’t recognise the carriage. I thought it might be someone who had lost the way, but young Jesse Ekin is pointing to our door.”

      “How odd.” India rose to her feet as a thunderous knocking sounded at the door. “I’ll go, Letty. Martha must be upstairs.”

      She had no presentiment of what awaited her, but the appearance of the man who stood before her caused her to recoil.

      He towered over her, broad as well as tall, and as she looked up at his swarthy face a pair of keen dark eyes raked her figure from head to toe in obvious appreciation.

      “Yes?” she said stiffly.

      “My name is Isham,” came the brief reply. “I wish to see Mrs Rushford.”

      For just a moment India was too astounded to reply. This was the author of all their misfortunes, and the sheer effrontery of his visit was unbelievable. It was in the worst of taste. Doubtless he had come to gloat over the downfall of his victims. He should not have that pleasure.

      “Mrs Rushford is not at home to visitors,” she said in icy tones.

      “I see.” The dark eyes studied her face. “And you are?”

      “I am Miss Rushford, and I too am not at home to visitors…”

      “On the contrary, you look very much at home, if I may say so. Miss Rushford, what I have to say concerns your family. Will you not hear me out?”

      “Nothing you have to say could possibly be of interest to us…” India began to close the door and found a booted foot in the way.

      “A rash statement since you don’t know what it is. I see that Sir James Perceval’s carriage is here. I will speak to him.”

      “Sir, you are insolent! Kindly remove your foot.”

      “Certainly not! I haven’t come all this way to be denied.”

      India gave him a freezing look. It had no effect at all. She could not remove him by force, and well she knew it.

      “Very well,” she said at last. “You may see my uncle. I doubt if you will attempt to force your will upon a man.”

      To her annoyance his lordship’s lips twitched.

      “It must be maddening to be a helpless female,” he agreed. “Now ma’am, if you will lead the way…?”

      India’s back was ramrod straight as she marched ahead of him. In a moment he would get his just deserts. Sir James would brook no nonsense from this creature.

      She was wrong. Much to her astonishment Sir James advanced upon their visitor with an outstretched hand.

      “What may I do for you, my lord?” he asked. “We had not expected you before the New Year.”

      “My business concerns your family, sir. I had hoped to see Mrs Rushford, but since she is not available…”

      “My sister-in-law is indisposed, I fear. May I not be her proxy?”

      “If you would be so good. This is a delicate matter. I should welcome your advice. Perhaps first you will present me to these ladies…?” Ignoring India, Lord Isham turned to Letty with an enquiring glance.

      “Forgive me, sir. These are my nieces. India you have already met. This is her younger sister, Letitia.”

      Isham bowed politely, but his bold stare brought a blush to Letty’s cheeks.

      India could have slapped her. Must Letty look so…overcome in this man’s presence? She seized her sister’s hand, and making their excuses almost dragged her from the room.

      “Oh dear! Should we not have been more polite?” Letty looked distressed. “India, you were giving his lordship dagger-looks.”

      “Are you surprised? How he had the sheer effrontery to come here I can’t imagine. It is insulting.”

      “But, love, we don’t know why he came…”

      “Most probably he wants his money. There can be no other reason. Doubtless he has already visited the Grange and feels that he was cheated.”

      “Well, it is in a poor state, you know. Nothing has been spent on it in years…”

      “That isn’t