The Smithfield Bargain by Jo Ann Ferguson Page B

“Lovanenty? What does that mean?”
    â€œIt is nothing.” He rubbed the bandaging on his right arm absently as he frowned. “Just an expression of astonishment at your conspicuous disinterest in returning home to England.”
    Romayne smiled sadly as she sat on the settee. “I probably would be more excited if I was certain that I had a home to go back to. Grange spends half her time, as you recall, bemoaning the fact that she fears despair for me may have brought the end of my grandfather’s life.”
    â€œHe is quite definitely alive.”
    Sitting straighter, she gasped, “How do you know? Have you heard from him?”
    â€œHow would your esteemed grandfather know to write to me?”
    â€œThen how—?”
    â€œMr. Bain received this yesterday.” He drew a slip of tattered paper from beneath his brown coat.
    â€œMr. Bain?”
    â€œThe shopkeeper in town.”
    As she took the paper and spread it in her lap, she realized it was a broadsheet. Her eyes widened as she read:
    INFORMATION SOUGHT
    ON
    PRESENT WHEREABOUTS OF LADY
    ROMAYNE SMITHFIELD
    LAST SEEN
    COLDSTREAM, SCOTLAND
    The page went on with a description of her and what she had been wearing the night she had eloped with Bradley. Small print at the bottom offered a generous reward for any valid facts brought to Lawson Smithfield, Duke of Westhampton, Westhampton Hall, Yorkshire.
    Her fingers brushed the letters of her grandfather’s name. Pain lashed her. How Grandfather must be worrying! This was the result of her headstrong disobedience. Tears burned in her eyes as she whispered, “Why did you wait until now to show me this if it arrived yesterday?”
    â€œIt arrived at the store yesterday, not here. Mr. Bain’s delivery lad brought it this morning with the chickens that Dora had ordered.” He arched a reddish brow at her as she looked up at him.
    Folding the paper carefully, she started to store it beneath her bodice. Her fingers froze as his heated gaze penetrated them with its fierce heat. As it roamed along her before settling on her hand that was inches from her heart, she slowly placed the page on the table beside her. She would not have to worry about forgetting it, for it was the first sign that her grandfather had forgiven her.
    â€œSpeaking of the chickens, go and get something to eat before you fade away.”
    James’s quiet command infuriated her, because it warned her that he did not intend to break his habit of ordering her about as if she was one of his recruits. In the same icy voice, she said, “I find your sudden interest in my well-being startling, Major.”
    She had thought he would entreat her not to use his title, but he only smiled as he said, “You should not, my lady. Not under these circumstances.”
    â€œCircumstances? Pray, what circumstances do you refer to?”
    â€œThe fact that we are getting married.”
    â€œMarried?”
    â€œMust you parrot everything I say?”
    â€œOnly because I am wondering if you are as insane as everyone else.” She brushed her hands on her skirt to hide their quivering. “Why do you think I would wish to marry you when I am in love with another man?”
    â€œWho may be dead.”
    Romayne wondered how he could be so cruel. His unfeeling words ripped through her as if he was slashing a hot poker into her stomach. “That does not change my heart.”
    â€œNor would I expect it to, but you must own that it changes your life. If he is dead, you cannot marry—What was his name?”
    â€œBradley Montcrief,” she whispered.
    â€œRomayne, as much as you, I wish you and Montcrief had reached Coldstream without incident. Duffie’s attack on you has ruined your plans and mine, but it is no reason to think that it should ruin our lives, which apparently we shall be spending together from this point forward. If you stop ignoring the fact that, according to