The Marriage Bargain Read Free Page B

for your husband’s good name, I beg you will tell no one he died in such a way.”
    “I wonder you told me at all,” she said miserably, hating that these two strangers were informing her of how her husband died. “I wonder why you even brought him here.”
    “We brought . . . brought Spence here to be buried in the family vault. It was the least we could do.”
    “The very least,” Emma whispered. “When did this happen?”
    “Yesterday morning,” Wolfe told her.
    Yesterday morning. Had it been at the same time she worked on the accounts, trying to contrive some way to pay for the spring planting? Had Spence fallen mortally wounded, drawing his last breath when she’d slammed her fist onto the desk and wished him to the devil?
    How could she bear having done such a thing?
    Feeling as if she were about to shatter into little pieces, Emma forced herself to lift her chin. “Gentlemen, please be seated. I shall step out to arrange for tea.”
    She walked out of the room and into the hall, where Mr. Hale waited, the housekeeper, Mrs. Cobbett, at his side. She stood stiffly in front of them.
    “Is it the earl?” Mr. Hale asked, his wrinkled face even more creased than usual. “They bore a coffin.”
    She nodded, tears springing to her eyes. “He is dead, Mr. Hale. The earl is dead.”
    “I feared as much.” The elderly butler’s shoulders sagged.
    Mrs. Cobbett opened her arms and Emma collapsed into them as waves of grief assaulted her, every bit as unexpected as the news of Spence’s death.
    She thought she hated him. How many times had she cursed him for leaving her with a crumbling estate, elderly retainers who deserved to be pensioned off, and so little money she could barely keep them all in food? The whole countryside cursed him. The failure of Kellworth to prosper had affected everyone.
    But at this moment all she could think of was that tall, handsome soldier, his red coat trimmed with gold, gazing down at her with eyes the color of a summer sky and hair as dark as the fertile earth in which she had just been digging. She could still feel the press of his lips upon her forehead after they had spoken their vows and had been pronounced man and wife.
    The very next day he had brought her here to Kellworth, not even staying a night here before leaving for the coast, back to war. How young she had been. How her eyes had been full of stars! Now she could see how blind they’d made her.
    At the time she’d thought him the most romantic of men, so sensitive to her youth and inexperience that he’d been willing to forgo marital relations with her, though she had snuggled with him in the same bed that one and only night.
    She had always believed he would return. For the last two years, she had dared him to return. Dared him to face her wrath for leaving her with the sorry mess that was Kellworth. But always, always she thought she would see him again.
    “There, there now.” Mrs. Cobbett patted her back as if she were a small child.
    Emma sniffed away her tears and straightened. Mr. Hale, his eyes moist, fished in his pockets and handed her his pristine white handkerchief, folded and warm from being in his breast pocket.
    Emma dabbed at her eyes. “Mrs. Cobbett, do we have any tea? I must serve something.”
    Mrs. Cobbett put her fleshy arm around Emma and Emma leaned on her once more. “Never you worry, m’lady. I’ve a few leaves saved. And Betty is making biscuits from the flour and sugar left in the pantry.”
    Emma gave her a wan smile. “What would I do without you?”
    Mrs. Cobbett squeezed her once more. “Well, I expect you won’t find out anytime soon. I’ve a good many years left in me, you know.”
    Emma watched Mrs. Cobbett hurry away, her skirts rustling and her keys jangling. These servants were like family to her. Emma was so grateful to them. After Spence departed from her, it had been left to Mr. Hale and Mrs. Cobbett and the others to teach her how to go on and make her feel at