The Smithfield Bargain Read Free Page B

from its shoulders, she would put her hand in Bradley’s as he slipped a ring onto her finger. She sighed. The dream was gone … for now.
    Opening her eyes, she found herself surrounded by dark and cold instead of the warmth of her comfortable bedchamber. Fatigue weighed her eyelashes. So easily she could have crawled into her tester bed in her large room in Westhampton Hall and slept until Grange pulled back the gold drapes with the morning light. When the cushions against her aching back bounced, she moaned as her head bumped into the wall.
    â€œHave you hurt yourself?”
    Focusing her bleary eyes on the shadowed form sitting beside her in the cramped space, Romayne frowned. What was Bradley doing with her unchaperoned, if her bleary eyes were revealing the truth, in the middle of the night?
    â€œBradley, where are we?” Although she was eager for the day when she and Bradley could publicly announce the love in their hearts, she would be a widgeon to come to their wedding with her reputation tarnished by an unthinking ride alone.
    Wedding … The word stuck in her mind. Realization followed hastily, and she laughed nervously as she sat straighter. Her reputation was in no peril, for she and Bradley must have reached Coldstream on the far side of the River Tweed. When Bradley had suggested eloping to Scotland yesterday, she could have imagined nothing more romantic. The reality of the long, cold ride had destroyed such illusions.
    â€œAre you still certain that this is what you wish to do?” came Bradley’s whisper as if he could sense the course of her thoughts.
    â€œVery sure.” She heard joy singing in her answer. Exhaustion was a small price to pay in exchange for the happiness of becoming Bradley’s wife. “Are you?”
    â€œVery sure,” he murmured. He folded her kid-gloved hand between his and smiled. When she leaned her head on his shoulder, the thickness of his greatcoat, which he wore against the frigid night beyond the carriage, could not soften his bony ranginess. “Go back to sleep, my sweet. I shall wake you when we have reached our destination.”
    Closing her eyes, Romayne waited for sleep to return. Her happiness faded when she thought of her grandfather’s dismay at her rash decision to flee with Bradley, but the duke had put her into a position where she had had to choose. She did not wish to remain a spinster in Westhampton Hall until she was as thin and old as Grange. If Grandfather had not been so adamant about her not marrying Bradley, she would be home now planning the wedding she had wanted.
    Yet she loved her grandfather with every ounce of her being. That was why she had left a note for him.
    Glancing at Bradley from beneath the wide brim of her bonnet, she hoped he would not be vexed at her unwillingness to follow his command that she should leave no clue behind of their destination. She could not bring herself to leave without informing the household where she was going. Her grandfather possessed a weak heart, and she must not let her joy bring him pain. The note was hidden where her abigail would find it only after an extensive search of her rooms.
    â€œYou are so quiet, my sweet,” Bradley whispered against her blue bonnet.
    Silk rustled in her ear as she lifted her head from his shoulder. Brushing her gloved fingers against the rough wool of her pelisse allowed her an excuse to avoid meeting his eyes. “My thoughts are full of the future.” She winced, hoping he would not guess that she was being false with him.
    When he chuckled, she discovered she had no need for anxiety. Bradley could not hide his unrestrained happiness. It was enough for both of them.
    â€œWe are within ambs-ace of being married,” he said in the same whisper. “They called me an addle cove for daring to aspire to marry the beautiful granddaughter of the Duke of Westhampton. So many told me that no woman with your luscious hair and