Virginia Heath - Miss Bradshaw's Bought Betrothal

Which left Finn with an uncomfortable dilemma. Should he tell her what he suspected or pretend that Fergus would return presently? In the end, lying seemed futile. He owed Fergus nothing and the very last thing he wanted was a pair of uninvited houseguests for a prolonged period of time. ‘Did you give him any money, Miss Bradshaw?’

Her eyes widened and he realised that they were quite an unusual shade of brown. The golden flecks in the irises gave them a feline quality. ‘I did give him a little.’

‘How much did you give him?’ Because that dictated how long he would leave the poor girl stranded. Fergus got through money as though it was going out of fashion.

‘Oh, dear.’ She stared down at the dandelion in her hand and Finn experienced a trickle of unease.

‘How much?’

‘A thousand pounds.’

‘A thousand! Are you mad? Fergus will only gamble it away.’

Her dark eyebrows came together and her plump lips flattened. ‘At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do.’

‘Well, congratulations, Miss Bradshaw. With a thousand pounds in his pocket, I doubt you will see your beloved for months.’

She took this news remarkably well. ‘He will have lost it all in a few weeks, not months. Fergus is not a particularly talented gambler.’

Which begged the obvious question. ‘If you knew that, why on earth would you give him the money?’

She turned away from him then and idly swished her foot from side to side in the water. ‘He is my fiancé and it is only money.’

‘But it is your money, Miss Bradshaw, and you seem to be forgetting the fact that he has dumped you in my house and then abandoned you as if you are of no consequence while he goes off to spend it.’ Harsh words, but the truth none the less.

She was quiet for a long time, aside from the incessant swishing of her foot as she stared off into the distance, and then he watched her inhale slowly and straighten her shoulders. ‘I suppose this all appears a trifle odd from where you are standing, Lord Finnegan, but it is what it is and I shall make the best of it.’

Did the woman have no pride? ‘And that is it? You have been abandoned without so much as a by-your-leave, one thousand pounds poorer, but that is of no matter? I can only believe that my original assessment of you must be correct, because only a woman who is, indeed, scraping the bottom of the matrimonial barrel would accept such shoddy behaviour just to get wed.’ She turned to him then and he saw the flash of pain in her eyes at his cruel words.

‘I am scraping the bottom of the matrimonial barrel, Lord Finnegan. Of that fact, I am painfully aware. I hold no illusions that your brother holds me in any regard whatsoever because you summed up my situation perfectly. I am a plain spinster who has been left on the shelf but I am, as you so crudely put it, obscenely rich and we both know that Fergus is in dire need of money. Beggars cannot be choosers. It might not be the most romantic of arrangements, but your brother is agreeable to it and I find that it suits me well enough.’

Finn wanted to tell her that she wasn’t plain at all, in his opinion. She had beautiful eyes and a mouth that begged to be kissed. Not to mention that she had a body made for sin, but saying that felt disloyal to Olivia. ‘Surely you could do better than Fergus?’ There was a stubborn glint in her eye that made him wonder if Miss Bradshaw might actually have a spine after all, until she spoke and spoiled it.

‘I am content with Fergus.’

‘Oh, content, are you? I am glad someone is. Meanwhile, it is me that is now stuck with you! How typical of my brother to leave me with his problems while he swans off to have fun.’

She recoiled as if she had been slapped and Finn felt terrible. ‘I did not mean to refer to you as a problem, Miss Bradshaw, I merely meant that—’ She held up her hand to stop him.

‘You are quite right, Lord Finnegan. He has shamelessly foisted my aunt and I upon you and for that I am sorry. Perhaps you would be good enough to arrange for our luggage to be transferred to Stanford House immediately so that you are not inconvenienced further?’ She stood proudly, her elegant hands clasped in front of her, the whimsical dandelion now dropped into the water and despondently floating away much like all broken dreams did eventually.

It was the matter-of-fact stoicism that undid him, almost as if she was quite used to being considered an unwelcome burden and treated with a lack of respect, and for some reason that bothered him. ‘There is no need. Stanford House is a wreck and there are no servants there to attend you. You can stay at my house while I make the necessary arrangements to return you to London while you wait.’

The flash of temper was so sudden and unexpected that it shocked him. ‘I will not be returning to London!’ By the stunned look on her face it had also shocked her. She sucked in a deep breath, blinked twice and then continued. ‘I am resolved to live in Yorkshire from now on, sir, and nothing with dissuade me.’

‘Fergus could be gone for months! And I am to be inconvenienced in the process? Until yesterday I had no idea you even existed and now I am expected to be responsible for you and your aged aunt, while Fergus goes off and enjoys himself at cards. Or whoring as he usually does?’ He watched her face pale, but ploughed on. It was better that she knew what she would be getting into with his twin before the wedding. At least then Finn’s conscience would be clear. ‘I owe my brother nothing, Miss Bradshaw, and my charity only extends so far.’ And more importantly Finn wanted to be left all alone. Away from people and their lives and hopes and dreams. The last thing he needed was this voluptuous creature, who sang bawdy songs and paddled in streams, and reminded him that he was a man.

‘As I have already stated, Lord Finnegan, I have no desire to inconvenience you any further and would prefer to remove myself to Stanford House presently.’

‘I keep telling you that house in uninhabitable—’ That delicate hand cut him off again.

‘Stanford House will do well enough until Fergus returns—and he will return. So do not trouble yourself on my behalf. I have no need of your charity, sir. I am an independent woman, Lord Finnegan, with independent means. A vast amount of independent means! I shall hire my own servants and make the house habitable. And because I have no desire to be considered as one of your problems, we will leave tomorrow and gladly so.’ She thrust her chin out and glared down her nose at him imperiously with outrage shimmering in her eyes. And managed to look quite splendid as she did it. ‘Good afternoon to you, Lord Finnegan, I shall not inconvenience you any further.’

With that she turned and stubbornly waded up the bank towards her discarded bonnet and shoes. She picked them up and began to march barefoot back across the meadow without giving him a backwards glance, the sodden heavy skirts slapping against her legs loudly. He could tell, by her posture, that she was indignantly proud of herself. The beginnings of a smile nudged at the corners of his mouth.

Underneath all of that awkward exterior, Miss Bradshaw had some gumption. It was obvious that she was not usually a person who took someone to task. Throughout the whole exchange her voice shook nervously and her neck bloomed with angry red blotches, but she persevered. Once she got started, there had been no stopping her. Most people just tolerated his brusqueness nowadays.

Poor Finn Matlock. All bitter and twisted. Even his wife could not stand to live with him.

It was quite refreshing to have been called on it for once. He actually admired her determination to stay at Stanford House just to spite him, although Finn doubted she would be quite so determined once she saw the place.