much as a by-your-leave, one thousand pounds poorer, but that is of no matter? I can only believe that my original assessment of you must be correct, because only a woman who is, indeed, scraping the bottom of the matrimonial barrel would accept such shoddy behaviour just to get wed.’ She turned to him then and he saw the flash of pain in her eyes at his cruel words.
‘I am scraping the bottom of the matrimonial barrel, Lord Finnegan. Of that fact, I am painfully aware. I hold no illusions that your brother holds me in any regard whatsoever because you summed up my situation perfectly. I am a plain spinster who has been left on the shelf but I am, as you so crudely put it, obscenely rich and we both know that Fergus is in dire need of money. Beggars cannot be choosers. It might not be the most romantic of arrangements, but your brother is agreeable to it and I find that it suits me well enough.’
Finn wanted to tell her that she wasn’t plain at all, in his opinion. She had beautiful eyes and a mouth that begged to be kissed. Not to mention that she had a body made for sin, but saying that felt disloyal to Olivia. ‘Surely you could do better than Fergus?’ There was a stubborn glint in her eye that made him wonder if Miss Bradshaw might actually have a spine after all, until she spoke and spoiled it.
‘I am content with Fergus.’
‘Oh, content, are you? I am glad someone is. Meanwhile, it is me that is now stuck with you! How typical of my brother to leave me with his problems while he swans off to have fun.’
She recoiled as if she had been slapped and Finn felt terrible. ‘I did not mean to refer to you as a problem, Miss Bradshaw, I merely meant that—’ She held up her hand to stop him.
‘You are quite right, Lord Finnegan. He has shamelessly foisted my aunt and I upon you and for that I am sorry. Perhaps you would be good enough to arrange for our luggage to be transferred to Stanford House immediately so that you are not inconvenienced further?’ She stood proudly, her elegant hands clasped in front of her, the whimsical dandelion now dropped into the water and despondently floating away much like all broken dreams did eventually.
It was the matter-of-fact stoicism that undid him, almost as if she was quite used to being considered an unwelcome burden and treated with a lack of respect, and for some reason that bothered him. ‘There is no need. Stanford House is a wreck and there are no servants there to attend you. You can stay at my house while I make the necessary arrangements to return you to London while you wait.’
The flash of temper was so sudden and unexpected that it shocked him. ‘I will not be returning to London!’ By the stunned look on her face it had also shocked her. She sucked in a deep breath, blinked twice and then continued. ‘I am resolved to live in Yorkshire from now on, sir, and nothing with dissuade me.’
‘Fergus could be gone for months! And I am to be inconvenienced in the process? Until yesterday I had no idea you even existed and now I am expected to be responsible for you and your aged aunt, while Fergus goes off and enjoys himself at cards. Or whoring as he usually does?’ He watched her face pale, but ploughed on. It was better that she knew what she would be getting into with his twin before the wedding. At least then Finn’s conscience would be clear. ‘I owe my brother nothing, Miss Bradshaw, and my charity only extends so far.’ And more importantly Finn wanted to be left all alone. Away from people and their lives and hopes and dreams. The last thing he needed was this voluptuous creature, who sang bawdy songs and paddled in streams, and reminded him that he was a man.
‘As I have already stated, Lord Finnegan, I have no desire to inconvenience you any further and would prefer to remove myself to Stanford House presently.’
‘I keep telling you that house in uninhabitable—’ That delicate hand cut him off again.
‘Stanford House will do well enough until Fergus returns—and he will return. So do not trouble yourself on my behalf. I have no need of your charity, sir. I am an independent woman, Lord Finnegan, with independent means. A vast amount of independent means! I shall hire my own servants and make the house habitable. And because I have no desire to be considered as one of your problems, we will leave tomorrow and gladly so.’ She thrust her chin out and glared down her nose at him imperiously with outrage shimmering in her eyes. And managed to look quite splendid as she did it. ‘Good afternoon to you, Lord Finnegan, I shall not inconvenience you any further.’
With that she turned and stubbornly waded up the bank towards her discarded bonnet and shoes. She picked them up and began to march barefoot back across the meadow without giving him a backwards glance, the sodden heavy skirts slapping against her legs loudly. He could tell, by her posture, that she was indignantly proud of herself. The beginnings of a smile nudged at the corners of his mouth.
Underneath all of that awkward exterior, Miss Bradshaw had some gumption. It was obvious that she was not usually a person who took someone to task. Throughout the whole exchange her voice shook nervously and her neck bloomed with angry red blotches, but she persevered. Once she got started, there had been no stopping her. Most people just tolerated his brusqueness nowadays.
Poor Finn Matlock. All bitter and twisted. Even his wife could not stand to live with him.
It was quite refreshing to have been called on it for once. He actually admired her determination to stay at Stanford House just to spite him, although Finn doubted she would be quite so determined once she saw the place.
He swung himself back on to Horatio and nudged the beast to wander slowly in Miss Bradshaw’s irate footsteps, while he watched her delectable, wet, rounded bottom sway as she stomped purposefully ahead a few yards away, resolutely pretending that he no longer existed at all. He doubted she would be quite so enamoured of the idea of marrying his dissolute brother when she saw his home. The only thing that would make Stanford House habitable would be to raze it to the ground and start again. Once she saw it, she would have to back down and return whence she came, and that actually did make him smile. Would she be all indignant and blotchy or would the squeaky, nervous Miss Bradshaw return? Either way, it would be entertaining to watch. For the first time in a very long time, Finn found himself actually looking forward to something.
Evie had gone to bed feeling very proud of herself and then slept like the dead. The other Matlock, with his cutting words and his brooding, insolent eyes, had brought out a side to her character that she never knew that she possessed. For the first time in her life, she had stood up to someone and it had felt marvellous. He had made it plain that she was unwelcome in his house and she had made it equally as plain that she had no intentions of staying there or of being shipped back to Hyacinth and her malicious daughters. The very last place she would ever want to stay was with another obnoxious and nasty person who underestimated her and undermined her at every opportunity. Not after she had spent ten long years living with Hyacinth, having every ounce of joy and confidence gradually chiselled away until there was nothing left but the doormat she hated.
Of course she was angry at Fergus. The shoddy behaviour of that vile wastrel was beyond the pale—however, it was not wholly unexpected. Not really. Not when one considered his weak character and intrinsically selfish nature—the two character traits that she had needed him to possess in order for her escape plan to work. She had not expected him to stay long in Yorkshire and in all honesty would have been glad to see the back of him had it not been for the fact that he had left her in the lurch as an unexpected and unwelcome guest of his brother.
But she had not anticipated that he would bolt within a few hours of her handing over the first instalment of his payment. Fortunately, she had had the good sense not to give him the entire five thousand pounds in one go—the rest of the money was safely stored in
