The Unconventional Bride. Lindsay Armstrong
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the feel of his lean, hard body drew a primitive response from her own body. A yearning to be captured by him and brought gloriously alive in the most intimate way, so much so—and so much did it take her by surprise—she gasped beneath his mouth and shuddered beneath his hands.
He lifted his head and looked into her wide, stunned eyes with the faintest smile twisting his lips.
‘I’ll be back,’ he said, and she wasn’t sure whether it was a threat or a promise.
Whatever it was, it kept her rooted to the spot while he strode down the steps towards his car. How long she would have been paralysed like that she was not to know if it hadn’t been for Mrs Bedwell.
With her trademark stalk, reminiscent of a tall, thin bird, Mrs Bedwell came round the corner of the house to waylay Etienne just before he got to his car.
Having had Mrs Bedwell meddle in her life for as long as she could remember, Mel came out of her reverie and slipped discreetly inside. She sprinted down the hall towards the study, from where she would be closest to the drive.
So that, lurking beneath the study window, she heard Mrs Bedwell say to Etienne, ‘Mr Hurst, I think that’s a very good idea of yours.’
‘You do?’ came Etienne’s reply. ‘What idea is that?’
‘The idea of marrying Mel. I’ve been going crazy trying to work out what’s to become of them since their father died. And your sister,’ she added conscientiously.
There was silence and Mel peeped over the study window sill to see Etienne stopped in his tracks by Mrs Bedwell’s eavesdropping habits.
Which Mrs Bedwell took full advantage of to continue volubly, ‘You see, I always did reckon Mel was born one gene short. For that matter, Justin is turning out the same, and as for Tosh…’ Mrs Bedwell threw up her hands and shook her head.
‘I don’t think I quite understand,’ Etienne murmured, as Mel’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.
‘They never stop to think, that gene,’ Mrs Bedwell elucidated. ‘Got it from their mother, they did. With all the best intentions in the world she was never out of trouble! I told Mel people wouldn’t take kindly to her taking her horse to the council, I told her not to hold that party—believe me, there’s a million things I’ve told her not to do, but once she gets a bee in her bonnet there’s no stopping her. Where will she end, I keep wondering, without someone strong like you?’
‘I…see,’ Etienne replied cautiously.
‘Then,’ Mrs Bedwell placed her hand on Etienne’s arm and stared confidingly into his eyes, ‘there’s the way she’s grown up. Who would have thought such a skinny tomboy with those awful braces on her teeth and forever scratched and grazed would grow into such a looker?’
Mel ducked her head, grimaced, and awaited Etienne’s reply with bated breath. But he didn’t reply and Mrs Bedwell went on.
‘Not that she knows it. You can accuse her of a lot of things but vanity isn’t one of them. Problem is—there are a lot of unscrupulous men out there and once they find out that all they need is some kind of crazy cause to worm their way into her heart, who knows what could happen?’
‘Mrs Bedwell, I could strangle you,’ Mel said through her teeth. Unfortunately, this caused her to miss what Mrs Bedwell said next and consequently she had no idea what it was that prompted Etienne to reply that he had become increasingly aware of it and would certainly take it into consideration.
‘What?’ Mel muttered, severely frustrated.
But Mrs Bedwell only said then, ‘Good, well, I can leave it up to you?’
‘You may, Mrs Bedwell,’ he answered as he shook her hand then got into his car and drove off.
It was not in Mel’s nature to bottle things up so she accosted Mrs Bedwell immediately and asked her what she thought she was doing by encouraging a man they barely knew to marry her.
A short, sharp argument ensued on who had the right to eavesdrop when. Then Mrs Bedwell announced that it so happened her nephew worked for Etienne Hurst so she knew quite a lot about him and all of it good. She also added pithily that if Mel hadn’t so resolutely distanced herself from her stepmama, she’d know a lot more about the man herself.
‘He’s made a fortune with his own hands,’ she stated. ‘He’s an excellent employer, a darn good businessman and he’s very highly thought of in the community.’
‘He may be,’ Mel shot back, ‘but he’s also extremely arrogant, and what’s that got to do with me marrying him? There’s no love lost between us, I can assure you!’
‘Love!’ Mrs Bedwell echoed with consummate scorn. ‘I married Jack Bedwell for love and five years later he walked out on me never to be seen again, leaving me with three kids to rear on my own. Love,’ she repeated bitterly; ‘what good did it do me? Here I am not even in my own home and a slave to a family that’s half-mad!’
They were in the kitchen during this exchange, and Mel suddenly changed tack.
‘Sit down, Mrs B,’ she ordered. She poured her a cup of coffee and took it along with some shortbread over to her.
Then she sank on her knees in front of her and said softly, ‘You do know this whole place would fall apart without you, don’t you?’
Mrs Bedwell pursed her lips.
‘You do know,’ Mel continued, ‘that we love you and consider you part of the family and we’d be devastated if you left and went to the Calders up the road who are always trying to pinch you from us?’
Mrs Bedwell’s face softened.
‘And who,’ Mel smiled up at her with a teasing glint in her eyes, ‘is the real authority in this house?’
Mrs Bedwell sighed then smiled herself. ‘You’re a sweetie, Mel. Just promise me one thing—you think seriously about Etienne Hurst. Because I know you well enough to know that losing the boys and Raspberry Hill on top of losing your dad would nearly kill you.’
So Mel thought about it until she could have screamed.
So many pros, she had to marvel. Just take the boys. There was no doubting Justin could be a handful at times, and what no one knew, because she’d chosen not to reveal it, was that he had been responsible for the notorious Raspberry Hill rum-rampage.
He’d got in with a dubious crowd of older boys whom he’d invited to the party with such disastrous results. She was pretty sure the fact that she’d had to front a magistrate had brought home the error of his ways to him. But she couldn’t deny that he might need a strong hand to steer him through his late teens.
Then there was Ewan. Thin and dark, at twelve, he was a chronic asthmatic with little interest in school and whose sole ambition in life was to paint. And Tosh, who had no redeeming chestnut in his hair—it was plain ginger—and if someone up there had set out to create another Just William, they’d succeeded in Tosh.
Her father’s favourite saying about his youngest child had been that he got into more trouble than Flash Gordon.
All the same, she loved them all desperately and couldn’t even begin to think about losing them.
So why do the cons seem to be overwhelming when there are so many pros? she asked herself as she tossed and turned one night.
Don’t be thick, Mel, she answered herself, using Mrs Bedwell’s favourite put-down. This is a marriage of convenience you’re being offered, that’s why it’s sticking in your throat! He may have kissed you and he may look at you as if he’d like to sweep you onto his charger and make off with you whether you like it or not, but his reputation is not consistent with Etienne Hurst suddenly falling in love with a girl like you…
She punched her pillow and tried to get more comfortable. It was well-known in the Gladstone area that for his recreation he’d leased and