Page 34 of The Smuggler’s Escape

“Don’t dismiss my concerns!” She was shouting, curse it. She forced her voice lower, but she couldn’t make it calm. It shook with fury and also, though she hated to admit it, fear. “You may have helped the smugglers as a boy, but you have no experience of the current situation. You’ll land us all in prison with your arrogant, irresponsible, aristocratic ways.”

“Shall we discuss this later?” Richard’s voice was perfectly controlled, of course. “My mother is coming out to greet us.”

“I suppose I shall have to pretend to like you.”

“No, no, just to be in love with me. Liking is an entirely different matter.” He paused, watching her.

She wouldn’t let him see how much that hurt. She’d hurt him, too, and he deserved it . . . and yet she hated herself for it.

“Shall I take your hand?” Richard reached for her. “Purely for show, of course.”

She let Richard lead her forward. Lady Boltwood hurried toward them, small and plump and warm-hearted. She pulled Noelle into a lily-scented embrace. “I’m so very happy. Your union with Richard is my fondest wish.”

Mine, too. The thought rose unbidden, but she countered it with another. Until I realized he doesn’t even like me anymore.

No, no, that wasn’t right. Until I knew that he’s a lecherous brute. That didn’t seem to matter as much as it should.

Until I knew I was in danger of my life.

That should have made it better, but if she didn’t get a hold of herself, she would burst into tears on Lady Boltwood’s shoulder. Noelle disengaged herself and stood back.

Lady Boltwood gave her a brilliant smile. “Come indoors and have breakfast with us.”

“Thank you, but I mustn’t. I’m on my way to teach Lady Ariadne’s daughters.”

Lady Boltwood made a face. “Surely that’s not necessary anymore.” Before Noelle could frame a cheerful lie, Lady Boltwood added, “There’s no need to continue earning your pin money. Richard will give you a generous allowance, won’t you, dear?”

Richard made one of his flourishing gestures. “Need you ask? My fortune—nay, my very life—is in Noelle’s hands.”

Noelle scowled at this folly. “I like teaching Lady Ariadne’s daughters.”

“Still, under the circumstances . . .” Lady Boltwood led the way indoors. “Come have a cup of the excellent coffee Richard brought from London, and my maid will fix your hair and get that sadly muddy bonnet back into shape. Better yet, we’ll buy you a new one.” She chattered the whole way. “Richard and I have been talking. We’ll all go into Chichester to shop for bride-clothes later this morning. Do you think Sir Matthew would allow your aunt to come along?”

“He will if you invite her.” Noelle shot an enraged glance at Richard. What about the contraband?

He pulled out a chair for her and said in her ear, “Trust me, my dear. It’s all part of my arrogant and irresponsible plan.”

If breakfast with her uncle had been barely endurable, coffee with the enthusiastic Lady Boltwood was pure hell. She could speak of nothing but bride-clothes and wedding plans. When Richard excused himself to discuss arrangements for the funeral, his mother said softly, “Richard loves you very much, you know.”

How could Noelle answer that? She didn’t believe it. Richard didn’t even like her anymore, and even if he did, he was a lecherous brute, and she had to leave England the following day. She said nothing.

“I’m sure the scurrilous gossip about him is a gross exaggeration. Holmes, his valet, swears Richard was not debauched whilst in Amsterdam. He’s a rigid moralist—would have made an ideal Puritan—and wouldn’t lie for Richard or anyone else.”

Noelle said nothing to that, either, but she wished she didn’t want to believe it.

“I have taken him to task about his behavior at the alehouse,” Richard’s mother said. “He should have known better, but I believe his actions were driven by his very real attachment to you.”

“I’m not upset about his behavior last night,” Noelle said.

“Nonsense, of course you are. It was foolish of you to sneak out to meet him, but fortunately, as you are to marry him, there will be no lasting ill effects.”

“No,” Noelle said. As long as she escaped hanging, she would be perfectly fine.

“Richard tells me you are having qualms. That is only to be expected. If anything is worrying you, you must not hesitate to come to me. Your aunt may well be shy.”

Hastily, Noelle raised the coffee cup to her lips. If she could avoid looking Lady Boltwood in the eye . . .

“Forgive me, my dear, as I should not have been watching, but it seemed to me that you were enjoying Richard’s attentions this morning in the garden.”

Noelle felt the blood rush to the roots of her hair. “Uh, yes. Of course.”

“Wonderful. Richard is capable of great passion, but he can also be gentle and kind. You needn’t worry about the wedding night. Which reminds me,” Lady Boltwood added with knit brows, “Richard wants me to send the carpenter and some chickens to one of his tenants, but he can’t recall which.”

Relieved at the change of subject, Noelle told her.

“You see!” Lady Boltwood cried. “You know his tenants far better than he. What an excellent baroness you will make.”

Noelle jumped up from the table. “I really must run. I’m late for my appointment with Lady Ariadne.” She hurried to the door, blurted, “Thank you for the coffee,” and fled.