Rebellious Bride Read Free Page A

perch on the hill he could look down on the town of Little and not feel too isolated.
    “You are tired, sir. I shall see to the unpacking immediately and have a bath drawn. And I shall prepare a decent meal for you. You have not eaten properly since this tedious undertaking began. Then you shall rest.”
    “That sounds splendid, but there is much for me to see to first.”
    Jonathan snapped his fingers at the cowhand who had driven the coach. “See that the bags are taken inside, my good man. I will direct you as to where to take them as soon as I acquaint myself with my surroundings.” Jonathan then returned his attention to Lord Sherborn. “All this has waited months for you. A few more hours won’t make a difference. By then you will feel refreshed and invigorated and ready to face your duties.”
    Rolfe shook his head and laughed softly. “As usual you are right, Jonathan. I place myself once again in your care.”
    “Of course,” Jonathan said matter-of-factly. “That is why I stayed in your employment. I am necessary to you.”
    A sudden sadness washed over Rolfe’s expression.
    “I am sorry, sir, forgive my foolish tongue,” Jonathan apologized. “Lady Beatrice was necessary to you. I am but an adequate servant.”
    Rolfe raised his hand in protest. “You are much more than an adequate servant. You have been a true friend.”
    Jonathan, being the proper manservant, hid his emotions and merely responded with a simple thank-you.
    Rolfe stared up at the house. Jonathan took himself off to direct the heathen cowhand in unpacking, aware without a word being exchanged that his lordship wished for solitude.
    Two years ago Rolfe would never have imagined himself leaving England to begin a new life in America. He had had what he wanted most; a wife, a baby on the way, an estate, and social acceptability—although social acceptability had not led the list of priorities. His lands had been important to Rolfe, but his wife, Bea and their expected child had meant the world to him.
    Rolfe walked around to the side of the house hoping to focus on anything but the past. It didn’t work. Bea’s death came rushing back to him. He heard once again her terrifying screams, her pitiful cries for him to help her, her pleas for God’s forgiveness, although for what he couldn’t comprehend, and he could do nothing for her. The doctors had tried, but unfortunately there had been too much bleeding and the baby wouldn’t enter the birth canal. There had been nothing he could do but watch Bea and his child die.
    A month after the funeral his decision was made. He would not stay in England, but he would retain his estate there for his heirs. He appointed a competent manager to oversee it before he left.
    Rolfe shook the painful memories away. He was finally here. He would begin a new life, and perhaps one day he might find a suitable wife—one who spoke softly, followed her husband’s direction, and was dutiful in her duties.
    Someone similar to Bea... not a fiery strawberry blonde.
    ~~~
    “I’ve told you a hundred times, Bibi, you can’t keep having intercourse because you’re having a problem with this pregnancy,” Lil attempted to explain.
    Bibi wrapped her red ruffled night coat more tightly ground her rail-thin frame. “I can’t believe you’re a lady and speak so openly about such personal things.”
    Lil was exasperated. The girl didn’t understand a thing she was saying. All that made it through that idle brain of hers was that an unmarried woman talked so openly about sex. “Listen to me, Bibi,” she tried again, but Bibi interrupted.
    “I listened and I’ll stay off my feet. I mean, off my back.” Bibi blushed and added, “For a few days.”
    Lil shook her head. “A few days won’t do. You’re spotting, you’re having trouble eating, and you’re pale. These aren’t good signs. You could lose the child.”
    Bibi sat on the edge of the large bed where nightly she plied her trade. “Perhaps that