The Stolen Bride. Brenda Joyce
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“The entire family is agreed on that. He is turning you into a rather proper and conventional lady.”
“I have truly tried to be ladylike,” she said.
Ladies don’t lie, they don’t steal and they don’t spy, Elle.
Panic overcame her and she stood. “Tyrell! Sean is haunting me now. I can’t do this! I really can’t! We should call off the wedding— I don’t care if I remain an old maid on the shelf!”
His eyes were wide. “Eleanor, what has brought this on?” He spoke with a wary tone.
“I don’t know!” she cried. “If only we knew where Sean was—if only we knew what had happened to him.”
Tyrell was silent.
She filled that silence. “I am aware that you think he’s dead. I know what the Runners said. I still miss him,” she whispered, and to her shock, she realized she missed him so much that it was like a knife stabbing through her heart.
Tyrell put his arm around her. “You have loved him your entire life and he has been gone for four years. I am certain a part of you will always miss him. Peter is a great match for you, Eleanor, in every possible way, and I cannot tell you how pleased I am that he is genuinely in love with you, too.”
She barely heard. “But how can I really go through with this when I am feeling this way? I am so unsettled! I almost feel as if Sean is here to stop me from going forward! I am going to be Peter Sinclair’s wife. I am going to bear his children. I am going to live in Chatton.” And she gazed pleadingly at her brother.
“Even if Sean were here, which he is not, would it really make a difference?”
“Of course it would!” Then she flushed. “I comprehend your point. He never cared for me the way that Peter does. I know that, Ty. Why do I have to be thinking of him now, of all times?”
“All brides become exceedingly nervous before their weddings, or so I have been told.” Ty smiled reassuringly at her. “Maybe you are looking for excuses to delay the event, or to even walk away?”
She studied him. “Maybe you’re right. What should I do?”
Tyrell touched her. “Eleanor. You waited for almost four years for him. What do you think to do? Wait four more years for his return?”
Her heart wished to do just that. She finally said, “He’s not dead, Ty. I know it. I feel it. He is very much alive. He has hurt me terribly, but one day, he will come back and tell us what happened and why.”
“I hope you are right,” Tyrell said grimly. He put his arm around her again. “A very wise person once said that we do not choose love. It chooses us. True love never dies, Eleanor.”
“What am I to do?” she begged.
It was a thoughtful moment before Tyrell spoke. “Frankly, I am not surprised that now, on the eve of your wedding, you would be tormented by thoughts of him. Given the past, it would be odd if you did not think of him now. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that you should forsake your marriage to Sinclair.”
Eleanor started. “What do you wish to say?”
Tyrell hesitated.
Eleanor seized his sleeve. “Ty, you may be frank.”
His jaw was tight. “I wish for you to have a life of your own. A home and family of your own, a future with the joy of children. Sean has never returned your feelings, and we do not know where he is or if he will ever return. Sinclair is offering you a genuine future. I think it would be mistake for you to jilt him now. You will not find this opportunity again. Not because of your age, a hindrance enough, but because Sinclair is such a good match for you.”
Eleanor realized she did not care for his meaning. She slumped onto the stone bench, consumed with despair and doubt.
Tyrell spoke again, with great care. “Sinclair is an honorable man. He is, by birth, nature, breeding and character, a true gentleman. I do think, should you go through with the wedding, he might have some trouble ruling his roost. But I don’t think he will care! He has fallen in love with you, Eleanor, and I very much approve of that. Are you genuinely considering breaking the contract on the off chance that Sean will soon return and, even more improbably, realize that he loves you?”
She was so overwhelmed she could barely think. Tyrell was right. She was being absurd. And she had given her word to Peter Sinclair.
“Of course, if you do not care for Sinclair at all, I would not want you to marry him,” Tyrell said softly. “But from what I have seen, you seem genuinely fond of him. I have been pleased to see you laughing again, Eleanor. And I never thought to see you smile during a quadrille.”
Eleanor inhaled and made her decision. “I am so fortunate.” She did not feel fortunate at all. “What woman is allowed to make such an important choice? What choice is there to make? Peter is titled, wealthy and handsome, he is kind, and he loves me. I must be the biggest fool in the land to be thinking, even for a moment, of breaking my marriage for a man who doesn’t want me—a man who isn’t even here, a man the whole world thinks is dead.”
“You have never been foolish,” Tyrell said with a smile. “But I am relieved that you will go through with the wedding. I can barely begin to describe the pleasure a family of your own will bring you.”
She just looked at him, reminding herself once again how fortunate she was while trying to push Sean’s dark image out of her mind. She must never entertain it, or her doubts, again. “You scandalized all of society by choosing Lizzie over your duty, Ty. You married for love—for true love—so I am not sure I am going to enjoy all that you have.”
“You won’t know, not if you don’t try,” he said. “I would never encourage this union if I did not have great hopes for it. I want you to be loved and I want you to be happy, Eleanor. We all do.”
She threw her arms around him. “You are my favorite brother! Have I ever told you that?”
He laughed. “I believe you have,” he said with an affectionate smile. “And, Eleanor? Please, do not become too proper!”
She finally smiled. “As it is an entire ruse, you need not fear a shocking transformation of character! Is not my current attire proof?” She gestured at her breeches.
He did not look down. “On that subject, I must object. Eleanor, please promise me you will return to your riding habit if you must gallop at dawn? At least until after the wedding—and the honeymoon. I would then advise you to humbly ask Peter for his permission to ride astride. I have no doubt you can convince him of anything you truly desire.”
She sighed. “I will try to be humble, Ty. And you are right. I do not need a scandal of my own making now. I will steal into the house so no one sees me. Are the gentlemen up and about?”
“A large group is intent on fishing today, so yes, they are in the breakfast room. I suggest you go in through the ballroom. The ladies remain asleep, of course, except for my wife.” His soft smile was instantaneous.
She quickly envisioned her escape into the house, and her planning calmed her. “Thank you, Ty. Thank you for your pearls of wisdom.” She stood. “You have soothed me. I have come to my right mind. I feel much better.”
Tyrell kissed her cheek. “I happen to believe you are making the right decision. I think, in time, your love for Peter will grow. I think there is every chance that, once you bear his children, there will be no regrets. You deserve all life has to offer. Sinclair can give you that.”
“Yes, you are right. You are always right, in fact.” She grinned at him. It never hurt to flatter the heir to the estate.
He laughed. “My wife would disagree. You need not be obsequious, my dear.”
“But you are the wisest of all my brothers! Can you take Apollo back to the stables for me?” she asked in