Vicar's Daughter to Viscount's Lady Read Free Page A

lordship will receive you in the study, Miss Shelley.’
    The room tilted a little. Rafe, at last. Please, God. Let me do this right. Let him have some shred of pity. ‘Thank you.’
    The study was on the north side of the house, deepin shadows. A fire flickered in the grate; the only light, a green-shaded reading lamp, was focused down on to papers on the desk. It illuminated the lines of Rafe’s jaw, the edge of his cheekbones, the glint of his eyes as he stood, but not much more.
    ‘Miss Shelley.’
    So formal, so calm—he is concerned that the butler might come back. His voice seemed deeper; perhaps that was surprise at seeing her. He did not sound angry. That would come and she had tasted his anger, his fury at any attempt to thwart or contradict him.
    ‘Rafe…My lord, I had to come.’ She stepped towards him, but his left hand lifted, gestured towards a chair, and the firelight caught the flame of the familiar cabochon ruby on his ring. That hand, sliding slowly down over her breast, over the pale curve of her belly, down…
    ‘Thank you, but, no.’ It left him on his feet too, a shadowy figure behind the desk, but she was too agitated to sit. ‘You will be surprised to see me.’
    ‘Indeed.’ Still no anger. Perhaps this cool distance was worse; he did not seem to even know her.
    Bella felt a fresh pang of apprehension, a wave of hot shame that she was in this position.
    ‘When you…left me you made it clear you never wanted to see me again.’ Silly little sentimental fool…Clumsy country wench—the only thing you can do on your knees is pray…So easy, so gullible and not worth the effort. He had slapped her face when she began to weep.
    Rafe shifted abruptly, then was still, remaining behind the desk. ‘And yet you are here.’
    She could not read the emotion in his voice. Theshadows seemed to shift and sway. It was necessary to breathe, to be silent for a moment or two while she fought the nausea and the shame. He was going to make her spell it out, he was not going to offer her the slightest help to stammer out her demands.
    She felt her knees trembling, but somehow she dared not sit down. Something dreadful was happening, just as her worst fears had told her, and she needed to be on her feet to face it. He was so cold, so distant. He is going to refuse. ‘I am with child. Our child , Rafe.’
    ‘I see.’ He sounded remarkably calm about it. She had expected anger, shouting. Only the flash of that ruby in the firelight showed any sign of movement.
    ‘You promised me marriage or I would never have…never…I know what you said when we parted, but we must consider the baby now, Rafe.’
    She could almost feel the emotion flowing from him in waves now, belying his calm tone. But she could not decipher it, except to feel the anger, rigidly suppressed. Perhaps it was her own fear and humiliation she could feel. Bella pulled air down into her lungs and took an unobtrusive grip on the back of the nearest chair.
    ‘You are certain that you are with child?’ That deep, dispassionate voice unnerved her as much as his words. Rafe had always been laughing, or whispering or murmuring soft, heated endearments. Or at the end hurling cutting, sneering gibes. He had not sounded like this.
    ‘Of course! Rafe—’ She took a step towards him but his hand came up again and she froze. There was a silence. She could tell in the light of the reading lamp that Rafe had bowed his head as though in thought. Thenhe looked up. ‘And you came here thinking to marry Rafe Calne? That will not happen, child or no child.’
    The room swam out of focus. Bella gripped the chair as though drowning. But she did not weep or protest. She had expected it and had planned for it and now, with the uncertainty gone, felt somehow stronger. A cold calm settled over her and from somewhere deep inside she summoned up her courage and her will; later she could weep—she had had enough practice at that when she first realised she was