Improperly Wed (Aristocratic Grooms #3)(22)
Author: Anna DePalo

Her mother had obviously not given up on the Dillinghams.

“You know I won’t be around forever,” Uncle Hugh joined in, “and Tod would make a good steward of the Wentworth estates.”

“There are practically no Wentworth estates at the moment,” Belinda retorted. “It’s all in Granville hands.”

It wasn’t technically true. They still had one estate in Berkshire left, as well as a couple of rental buildings, but it hadn’t been in the family that long. Still, at least they wouldn’t be homeless, thank goodness, if Colin turned them out.

“This arrangement with Colin need be only a bump in the road,” Uncle Hugh went on. “Surely once it’s over, you’ll wish to return to your rightful groom and pick up where you left off.”

Belatedly, Belinda recognized just how much animosity her uncle harbored toward Colin, who’d divested him of the Wentworth patrimony. Uncle Hugh was ready to shoo her back in Tod’s direction at a moment’s notice.

Her mother was worse. She was almost suggesting that Belinda befriend Tod and keep her options open, as it were, even before her marriage to Colin ended.

“Tod is no longer in the picture,” Belinda responded flatly.

She reached forward and set her teacup down with more noise than necessary.

“Now, now, Belinda,” her mother said in a soothing voice, “no need to get snappish. Your uncle means well.”

“We’re thinking of your best interests.”

“Are you?” Belinda said as she stood up. “Then why is it up to me to save the family fortunes?”

She turned then and walked out the door.

She would head back to her London hotel, and then fly to New York to settle her affairs there.

Life had just taken a detour—one that led to Halstead Hall.

Seven

Belinda’s eyes misted as Pia reached the front of the church.

Pia looked beautiful in her wedding gown, holding a tightly bunched bouquet of red roses. A delicate tiara graced her coiffure. It was a gift from Pia’s groom, Hawk, for their wedding day.

In a nod to her groom’s country, Pia had made a fashion-forward choice from a British designer. In a bow to tradition, however, the dress had lace elbow-length sleeves and a full skirt. The ensemble was light and ethereal, like Pia.

Belinda adjusted the skirt of Pia’s dress and then took the bouquet from her friend’s hands, all the while steadfastly refusing to make eye contact with Easterbridge, standing a few feet away, next to the groom.

The service was being held in the parish church near Silderly Park, the Duke of Hawkshire’s estate in Oxford.

Belinda was Pia’s lone attendant. Because Tamara was several months’ pregnant, she had bowed out of being part of the wedding party and had instead chosen to remain comfortably seated among the wedding guests.

To Belinda’s discomfiture, however, Colin was acting as Hawk’s best man. Belinda wondered if Pia’s romantic nature was at work in the choice. After all, not so long ago, Pia had suggested that Easterbridge was drawn to Belinda like a moth to a flame.

Pia gave her a bright and tremulous smile before facing the minister.

Belinda was truly happy for her friend. But much as she hated to disillusion Pia, Belinda didn’t think she and Easterbridge bore even a passing resemblance to Romeo and Juliet—though their families, she admitted to herself, might rival the Montagues and Capulets.

Belinda kept her eyes firmly on the Anglican minister as he began to speak. When the time came for the couple to recite their vows, though, her gaze drifted of its own volition to Easterbridge’s.

“Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife…”

Colin’s face remained cool and fixed, but his eyes were hot as they looked into hers.

“Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

Belinda felt herself heat, as if she could feel Colin’s caress as well as see it. Every bone in her body seemed to melt under Colin’s gaze.

The memory of their own wedding rose between them. It had been just the two of them, the officiant and standby witnesses called in by the chapel. Their service had been a lighthearted, can-you-believe-we’re-actually-doing-this reverie. They’d both been looking forward to consummating their marriage.

“Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband…?”

Once upon a time, Belinda thought, she’d answered yes to that question to the man standing a few feet from her and eating her up with his eyes.

“Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

Pia had chosen to modernize the traditional vows by omitting a reference to obey and instead using vows that mirrored the groom’s.

Colin smiled ever so slightly.

Belinda raised her chin a fraction. Was he recalling that she similarly had chosen not to obey? It was a good thing, because the very next morning she’d chosen not even to keep him.

She recalled Colin’s puzzlement and then thin-lipped control when she’d nearly bolted from their hotel room, horrified at her rash actions.

She had never imagined Easterbridge would agree to obtain a marriage license before she slept with him. She’d followed through rather than changed her mind because she’d been irresistibly drawn into his orbit by that point and Vegas was an uninhibited gambler’s paradise.

It had been irresistibly seductive to be wanted so much. And now that Easterbridge was staking his claim on her again—moving heaven and earth to do so, in fact—she felt almost…cherished.

Belinda tingled down to the tips of her toes. Her gown was a modest peach chiffon confection, but under Colin’s gaze, she felt as if she were wearing a revealing sexy ensemble, and enjoying its effect.

Colin looked as if he could lift her up right now and carry her down the aisle and directly to a bed—his bed.

At least, Belinda thought, she’d gotten desire if not love. Easterbridge had given a vow to love her, but he couldn’t have meant it—not after knowing each other so briefly.

She held back a sigh. It would be wonderful if a man could vow to love her and mean it. She’d never had the opportunity to test the proposition with Tod because their ceremony had been cut short. And with Easterbridge…

Because she felt unexpectedly teary, she drew herself up straighter.

Rats.

She would not give Easterbridge the satisfaction of seeing her get emotional. Though it was not unusual, of course, to cry at a wedding, she knew Colin would wonder if it was Pia’s happiness or her own memories that had caused her tears.