Fortune's Bride Read online

  “You won’t, but others will,” Robert said with a tinge of bitterness and heaved another sigh. “There’s nothing for it,” he added, wearing an expression of extreme dejection. “We’ll have to get married.”

  Chapter Six

  Esmeralda’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened so far that they almost appeared ready to fall out of her head. In addition, shock drove the air out of her lungs while she was seeking words so that she uttered an indistinct and most inelegant gobbling noise. Robert, who had been staring past her concentrating on his private rationalizations, suddenly realized what he had done. He jumped to his feet, cursing himself for being ten kinds of a donkey. The last thing he had said to the girl was that it would be a long, hot ride, and then without the slightest warning or explanation he had proposed marriage. It would be no wonder if poor Miss Talbot had hysterics.

  “No, don’t,” he said desperately. “I didn’t mean to shock you. Oh, damn it all, you can’t go riding all over the country with me and a bunch of Portuguese ox drivers. It isn’t at all the thing. People would get to talking.”

  Now Esmeralda was in even worse straits. One cannot laugh while one is strangling for lack of air, but the form of Robert’s explanation of his extraordinary proposal was inordinately comical. At the same time, the kindness of his intention and his obvious distress absolutely required a response that would put him at ease. Esmeralda struggled for breath while Robert stood halfway between her chair and his own, afraid to approach but equally afraid that the next thing that would come out of her mouth would be the piercing shrieks of a totally unhinged mind. He knew he needed female assistance, but the thought of what Esmeralda might say to any woman who offered her sympathy almost unhinged his mind.

  “I’m all right,” Esmeralda gasped at last. “I am sorry to have alarmed you. You took me so much by surprise.”

  Robert could have kissed her. He stared down into her large, dark blue eyes, magnified now by unshed tears of stress, and again thought how remarkably beautiful they were. “I’ll get some wine,” he said anxiously. “Can’t think how I could have been so stupid. Should have explained first. Dreadful shock for you. But I don’t mean anything by it. I mean, I do, but I wouldn’t expect… Oh, the devil with it. I’ll get some wine.”

  Esmeralda was not in any need of a restorative, but she was glad to have a little time alone to reassemble her wits and get control over her feelings. Although she could now breathe evenly, she still did not know whether amusement or agony predominated. Captain Moreton, set on rescuing a maiden in peril, was clearly ready to go all the way regardless of the cost to anyone. That was most laudable. Only one could not help but laugh at the sad resignation with which he prepared to sacrifice himself. It was perfectly plain to Esmeralda that he scarcely saw her as an individual and did not care much for what he saw. No, Captain Moreton’s sacrifice was not for the maiden, but for the propriety itself. Esmeralda started to giggle and choked on a sob.

  He was such a dear person, so upright and honest, so obviously well brought up by a family that treated its women with the utmost consideration. But that was where the danger lay. If Captain Moreton had been as practiced a hand with women as his handsome face would lead one to suspect, Esmeralda thought she would soon have recovered from her infatuation. Such a person would doubtless try to flatter her and show her attentions, which she would know to be false. In that case, close association over an extended period would soon produce disgust.

  That could never happen with Captain Moreton. He would most likely be careful and considerate of her because he had been trained to be careful and considerate of women. He would be kind because it was his nature to be kind. And Esmeralda knew that she would fall more and more deeply in love.

  She should not do it. Esmeralda knew she would suffer horribly if she yielded to the temptation. Yet what else could she do? Without Robert, how was she to prove her identity? Perhaps she should return to India and obtain identification papers from Governor Duncan, but there was no way she could think of to pay for her passage, and she had no idea where to find a ship going to India. Would she have to travel to England first?

  No, it was insane. Captain Moreton had offered the perfect solution, simple and easy. Surely she was sufficiently adult and intelligent to keep her emotions under control when it was so very plain that he was utterly indifferent to her except as another duty. And she had intended to travel with him. A marriage of convenience could not possibly make any difference in how she would feel, since it was quite plain that Robert did not intend to act as her husband, but only lend her his name. But Esmeralda was lying to herself, and she knew it. It would make a difference. She would have to resist the idea of marriage.

  Before her very urgent desire to snatch at even the most distant opportunity for an intimate relationship with Robert could take hold and manufacture arguments, he came back into the room, carrying a tray with bottles and glasses. Esmeralda could not help laughing, albeit a bit shakily. His anxious expression betrayed the reason for his acting as waiter. He did not want any witnesses if she had collapsed into hysterics again.

  His eyes lighted at her laugh, and he said, “By George, you are a sport, Miss Talbot. I can’t say how sorry I am. You see, I was sitting here and thinking about what you said—you know, about not having any family or friends in England—and that made me think that you wouldn’t have anyone to…to stand up for you. Then I got to thinking about how long it would take to get the animals down to Leiria, and what might be said. I swear I never thought…”

  “Do set down the tray,” Esmeralda suggested, driven to tease by her mingled misery and mirth. “But, really, you do not need to apologize or assure me that you had no dishonorable intentions. After all, you made me a proposal, not a proposition.”

  Robert set the tray down rather more abruptly than he had intended. Wearing a rather hunted expression, he turned toward Esmeralda. “But—”

  She burst into laughter, interrupting him. “Oh, forgive me,” she gasped. “I have a most improper sense of humor. I was only teasing you. I understand perfectly that you were most kindly offering a marriage of convenience to protect my reputation. I am very grateful, truly grateful, but I cannot think it to be necessary. Surely no word of so small an incident would get back to England.”

  Robert’s expression had changed from anxiety to amusement at Esmeralda’s confession and then back to anxiety again at her final words. “Unfortunately, that’s just what I’m not at all sure of,” he said. He hesitated, poured two glasses of the wine, and handed one to Esmeralda. Since it was obvious he was trying to find the right words to say something else, she sipped her wine and waited. “You see,” he went on slowly, “I would have to bring you to headquarters, and Sir Arthur’s staff is not only all very well connected but also very young. They wouldn’t mean any harm. They would think they were making a joke at my expense. I could warn them,” he went on hastily, “but I fear that would only impress the incident on their minds.”

  “That is quite true.” Esmeralda was forced to agree. “What’s more, it would make telling it even more irresistible,” she admitted. “As soon as one knows something should not be said, it is always at the tip of one’s tongue.”

  As the words came out, Esmeralda remembered that she was supposed to be arguing against the marriage, not for it. Even if the story of her unchaperoned days with him did get back to England, she did not think it would greatly impede her acceptance into society once the size of her fortune was known—a cynical view perhaps. Nonetheless, she was relatively sure that five days’ lapse would be overlooked in the shadow of half a million pounds.

  “Still,” Esmeralda went on, determined to be sensible, “it seems to me to be too great an imposition upon you. I must take my chances. After all, I survived a shipwreck and escaped from old Pedro’s schemes—”

  “That’s just why I decided there was nothing for it but getting married.” Robert sighed and tossed off the glass of wine
he had been holding. He refilled the glass and turned back toward Esmeralda. “No sense rescuing you from one bumble-broth and dropping you into a worse one. Not your fault the ship went down or that there aren’t any ships going to England or that the damned Portuguese won’t give me credit.” Suddenly Robert smiled at her. “And you’ve been damned good about it, too. No vapors, no fuss.”

  Esmeralda laughed. “That would have been very poor thanks for your kindness, to saddle you with hysterics in addition to so awkward a burden.”

  Now Robert laughed also. “True enough, but most women don’t seem to consider such things. Tend to get upset first, then they don’t seem to be able to think at all. You’re a very sensible girl.”

  “Thank you,” Esmeralda said. “It is owing to having lived with Papa. He had very little sympathy with a display of the vapors.

  However, I do not see that this marriage will really help. Will it not be even more exquisitely humorous to your fellow ADCs that you rescued a young woman and married her out of hand?”

  “They will have a May-day frolic over the marriage,” Robert agreed, grinning, “but I won’t mind that, and they won’t tease you. And when we have it annulled, they won’t say a word to anyone about its ever having happened. They will think, you see, that something went wrong between us, and to have gossip about that would hurt me—and you also, of course. They would not wish to hurt us.”

  “Annulled!” Esmeralda repeated, and then added quickly, “Yes, of course. How stupid I am.” She looked down at her hands, so tightly clasped that the knuckles showed white, afraid of what Robert might read in her face. “But will it not make a scandal to…to put an end to the marriage? Will that not negate the good effect you wish to produce?”

  “No,” Robert said eagerly, proud of his strategic planning and completely unaware of the blow he had delivered, “we can be married by the bishop, or by his priest or someone—I’m pretty sure I can talk him into that, since we’re both heretics already. I mean, he wouldn’t be taking a chance on having a Catholic soul corrupted, and maybe he would even think some good would rub off on us from a marriage in the ‘true faith’. But the marriage wouldn’t be valid in England, you see—at least, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be. And since it wouldn’t have been…er…”

  “Consummated?” Esmeralda offered with seeming calm.

  She was really numb with pain. When Robert had seemed so pleased with her and called her a sensible girl, she had for a few minutes almost permitted herself to hope that he would be willing to let the marriage stand.

  “Yes,” Robert said, with relief, smiling at her again. She really was a most unusual woman. “So there wouldn’t be any trouble in obtaining an annulment very privately, and there wouldn’t be any scandal. And I think I know someone who could help, too. I mean, help to keep things quiet.”

  “It is very good of you,” Esmeralda said wearily.

  “Not at all,” Robert responded politely. “I like to see a thing neatly done—or, as the cavalry would say, get over heavy ground as lightly as I can—and this is really the best way. Moreover, if we should suffer any surprise by the French or any reverse in a military sense, you would have the protection of my name and rank.”

  “I had not thought of that,” Esmeralda confessed. “I had almost forgotten the French.”

  Robert smiled indulgently. “I can see how you would, what with one shock after another, but it would never do for me to forget them. Now, sorry I shan’t be able to give you more time to get used to all this, but it looks like the stock the bishop has collected for us will all be assembled by tomorrow. That means we must leave the day after. Can’t have Sir Arthur bringing the troops ashore and having nothing to ride or to pull the wagons. So tomorrow will have to be the day.”

  “Very well.” Esmeralda’s voice was so colorless that even Robert, scarcely the most perceptive of men where women were concerned, realized something was wrong.

  He looked at her closely and was shocked by the gray tinge beneath the sun-browning of her skin. “My dear Miss Talbot,” he exclaimed, “do forgive me. You are exhausted. I will take myself off at once and let you rest. Would you wish to have a small supper sent up to your room, or—”

  “I can scarcely come down in this dress,” she began, then stopped speaking as a deep flush came up over Robert’s face. “What is it, Captain Moreton?” she asked.

  “About the gowns I asked you to order,” he said, struggling with his embarrassment. “I’m afraid I should have explained the situation more completely, but I did not know myself, until after I left you, that I could neither change a reasonable sum in pounds for Portuguese money nor obtain credit.”

  “Oh goodness,” Esmeralda cried, getting up from her chair, “I never thought of it either. I will ring for a servant and send him at once with a note to the dressmaker. She was to bring tomorrow a riding dress and a morning dress, which she happened to have by her and which she said would need little alteration to fit my measurements. But she cannot have done much yet, so I hope it will cause no hardship to cancel the order.”

  “No, you must have those,” Robert said. “I’m not so short as that. But I’m afraid any evening dresses—”

  “I did not order any,” Esmeralda assured him, forced to smile despite the lingering ache in her heart. “What would I do with evening dresses?”

  Robert looked puzzled. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “at least, not until we settle into headquarters, but my mother and sisters never seem to go anywhere without trunks full of them.” Then he burst out laughing but soon sobered and took Esmeralda’s hand. “There aren’t many girls who would be so sensible. You are one in a million, Miss Talbot, and if I had to come upon someone adrift, I’m glad it was you.”

  He raised her hand and kissed it and then left the room. Esmeralda did not permit herself to turn and watch him go out the door or to touch with her other hand the spot he had kissed. Her chest was heaving with sobs, but at the same time it was impossible not to laugh. Although Esmeralda was certainly not experienced in dalliance, it occurred to her that no man who was could possibly make so many stupid errors in dealing with a woman as Robert did.

  Suddenly Esmeralda sat down hard. Could it be true? Could any man with a face and figure like Captain Moreton’s not be a practiced hand with women? Odd pieces of evidence came together. Esmeralda knew Robert to be kind. If he did not wish to marry until after he had sold out of the army, a kind man who looked like Captain Moreton would avoid any except brief and casual social associations with young unmarried women of his own class.

  As abruptly as she had sat down, Esmeralda jumped to her feet and began to pace the room, all sense of fatigue gone. If Captain Moreton’s sole contact with gentlewomen was the kind one indulged in at balls and with his sisters—she paused and bit her lip, thinking back on their conversations, yes, the only women he had mentioned were his mother and sisters—then the unflattering remarks he made were not at all surprising. Such comments could not hurt a sister.

  Esmeralda walked slowly toward the most comfortable chair, her lips curving into a wry smile. If she had not been such an idiot as to fall in love with the man least likely to be attracted to her, the remarks he made would not have hurt her, either. She might, if she were a fool obsessed with her own importance, have been offended at the clear and implied avowals that she was a nuisance and a burden, but she could not have been hurt by them. Sighing, Esmeralda leaned back and closed her eyes. She was very tired again.

  It was dark in the room when a knocking on the door awakened her. She jerked upright, uttering a low cry as her neck and back, stiffened by sleeping in an awkward position, protested, and she looked wildly around, totally disoriented. A second soft tapping brought her to her feet. No one would tap on the door of the hut. The thought recalled the adventures of the day to her, and she called “Enter” in Portuguese.

  Two servants came in, one carrying a candle, the other carrying a supper tray. There we
re apologies for not lighting the room earlier. Captain Moreton had told them not to disturb her until suppertime unless she rang for service. Esmeralda thanked them and agreed that supper should be set on a small side table. Then she started toward the door to the bedchamber, intending to wash her hands and face, but the servant who had carried the candle held out to her a small parcel, saying that the captain had asked him to give it to her. Esmeralda took it with a mechanical smile and hurried off to the inner room. She was quite certain that Robert had changed his mind about taking her with him and had sent her what money he could spare. She did not want the servants to see her distress.

  When she tore open the parcel and a hairbrush, comb, and toothbrush tumbled out, she had to bite her lips hard to keep from either laughing or crying aloud. How ridiculous to think so odd-shaped a parcel could contain coin. And how clear a betrayal of her emotions that silly fear had been. No matter what pain she would suffer in the end, there was nothing she desired more than to marry Captain Moreton and travel south with him. But if they were to be married—an odd warmth suffused her—she realized that she would have to use his given name now. Robert…how nice it was to think of him as Robert… Robert would have to call her Esmeralda, too.

  She had been staring at the toilet articles without really seeing them while these thoughts ran through her mind, but when she focused on them, the realization of Robert’s consideration rushed upon her. Very few men would have thought of her need. She had been so eager to leave the village, she had taken with her only the clothing she was wearing. Tears stung her eyes. He was the dearest, kindest man in the world. How unfortunate that he should be so handsome. If only he had been ugly, there would have been a chance for her to win his affection.

  The hand Esmeralda had stretched out to touch Robert’s gifts hung suspended as she considered her last thought. Was it utterly impossible that Robert could come to care for her? He seemed far more irritated by his own appearance than proud of it. Could it be possible that he was also annoyed or embarrassed by the pursuit of women attracted by his looks? If so, would not the presence of a wife be an advantage? Particularly a wife who would encourage his dedication to his career and never interfere with him?