Chapter 19
“Are you well, Bridget? You look a bit flushed.”
Elara’s voice broke through Bridget’s reverie, and she looked up to find Adrian’s younger sister peering across the table at her with a most worried expression. She brought her hand up to her own cheek and found the soft flesh hot to the touch.
In truth, Bridget was not at all sure whether she was well.
Adrian’s attention toward her left her most confused and wary.
She did not yet dare hope that this marriage would be different from her last. Even if Adrian had come to her bed to show her pleasure, and held her every night since their wedding for the past week.
Even if he broke his fast with her, and made a point to ask her about her day every evening when he came home. She was still too afraid.
“Yes, quite well,” Bridget answered, then forced a smile as she picked up her cup of tea. “I do apologize, though, my mind was miles away. There is still much to get used to.”
Elara gave her an understanding smile and nodded.
“I am sure,” Elara agreed, picking up her own teacup. “Forgive me for saying so, but I have heard much of your past, and I am certain that my brother is vastly different from your late husband.”
Bridget raised a brow in surprise, and her eyes went wide as she nearly choked on her tea and set her cup down with a clatter.
“Oh, do forgive me, Bridget,” she said hastily. “My brother often tells me that I speak too bluntly for the comfort of others.”
Bridget let out a soft laugh and relaxed.
“No, actually, I find your honesty most refreshing,” Bridget confessed.
“Most women of our society tend to speak out of both sides of their mouths, and you never know which side is speaking the truth. You are straightforward with your honesty, and I admire that.” Bridget took a sip from her cup before adding, “And to answer your question, yes. Adrian is… so very, very different from Warren. So different that it is difficult at times to believe that he is actually who he says he is.”
Elara visibly relaxed and reached a hand out toward her. Bridget readily took it, and the two gave each other’s hands a warm squeeze.
“I knew I was going to like you from the first moment my brother spoke of you,” Elara stated. “But I would not worry about my brother playing a part. He has no patience to be anyone other than who he is.”
Relieved to hear Elara say so, Bridget felt more comfortable continuing the conversation.
“You said your brother spoke of me?” she asked, her curiosity piqued. “When was that?”
Elara’s cheeks flushed pink.
“Oh, well. I suppose I should not say specifically. It was well before your marriage.”
Bridget drew up an intrigued brow.
“How well before?” she asked.
Elara was appearing to struggle for an answer when the dowager duchess sang good morning as she entered the room.
“Oh, good morning, Mama,” Elara answered readily, as if relieved for the interruption.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” Bridget greeted politely, rising from her seat to curtsy toward Adrian’s mother. “It is lovely to see you again.”
Bridget’s polite smile froze, however, when she lifted her gaze back to the dowager and found her glaring at her.
“Is… everything well, Your Grace?” Bridget asked timidly.
“It is you,” Nora whispered coldly. Then, in a louder voice, she demanded, “What are you doing here?”
“Mama,” Elara said in a kind warning sort of way as she stepped between Bridget and Nora. “You know why Bridget is here. She is the new Duchess of Redgrave, remember?”
Bridget watched, growing worried as Nora turned to Elara with a frustrated look.
“I do not understand. Why would Evander marry someone like her? Is she not already married?” Nora asked.
Guilt and sorrow speared through Bridget’s chest, and once more, she feared she had made a mistake in accepting Adrian’s proposal.
She had been warned by Adrian that his mother’s nerves had suffered a strain since his older brother’s death, but she had not realized the depth of the issue until that very moment.
“Perhaps I should take my leave,” Bridget offered.
“No,” Elara quickly replied, then gave her a pleading look for patience before she looked back to her mother and took her hand.
“Mama, Evander is dead, remember?” Elara said in an incredibly gentle tone. “This is Adrian’s wife.”
Nora turned to Bridget with a narrowed gaze.
“Yes,” she said, her voice hollow. “That is how I know you. Adrian said your husband killed my Evander. You are the reason he is dead! You have some nerve showing your face in my home!”
“I am so very sorry for your loss, Your Grace,” Bridget offered, curtsying deeply. “I realize now that the circumstances of Adrian and my marriage must certainly be confusing and not at all ideal. Please do forgive me, I shall go. I did not mean to upset anyone.”
“Bridget, please, wait,” Elara insisted, darting her eyes to Bridget before returning to Nora.
“Mama, I need you to listen to me, please,” Elara pleaded with Nora.
“Bridget is not responsible for her late husband’s actions, and she certainly had no hand in Evander’s death.
She is a woman of her own mind and heart, just as you and I are. ”
Bridget held her breath, unsure of what was about to happen as Nora looked from Elara to Bridget, then to Elara again. Then, to her utter surprise, Nora let out a mirthful laugh.
“Of course, you are right, my darling,” Nora agreed, patting Elara’s hand.
Bridget exhaled, dizzy with relief, and she smiled along with Nora.
“Evander is so strong, he would never let himself be killed by such a lowly man,” Nora went on. “He will find it all very amusing when he returns.”
The room suddenly went so silent that a pin could have been dropped, and it would have been heard from upstairs.
“Your Grace,” Bridget began to say, but she was at a loss for words. She threw a pleading look at Elara, who looked just as worried.
“Mama, I fear you are confused,” Elara said gently, her sorrow evident in her voice. “Evander is gone. He is not coming back.”
“No!” Nora exclaimed, her voice trembling as she pulled her hand from Elara’s. “He most certainly is not! Evander? Evander!” She began to shout.
“I should take her to bed,” Elara said, tears pricking her eyes as she looked at Bridget. “I am so sorry about this. She is fine most of the time.”
“No, please do not apologize,” Bridget quickly countered.
“She is not herself sometimes,” Elara added, trying to capture her mother’s hand again.
Nora swatted it away, and she turned a glare toward Bridget.
“You. What have you done?” she whispered venomously, then shouted. “What have you done with my son!”
“Nothing, Your Grace, I swear it!” Bridget replied earnestly.
“Mama, please,” Elara now begged as she grabbed Nora’s arm. “Let me help you to bed. You are just tired is all. Nothing a nice rest will not cure.”
“Get her out!” Nora shouted as Elara led her out of the parlor. “Get her out of my house! I do not want to ever see her again!”
Bridget remained frozen as she heard Elara’s soft pleas begging her mother to calm down as the two disappeared into the hall.
Her heart went out not just to Nora, but also to Elara and Adrian.
She had known, from the moment she had met Adrian, that Evander had been an important part of his life, but it was only now that she understood how fundamental the late Duke had been to the entire family.
Bridget’s jaw began to ache with that familiar pain as she ground her teeth together, worried as to what to do.
It was clear that Adrian held no ill will against her.
Elara had no such feelings either. Yet it was very clear that the dowager duchess held Bridget responsible for Evander’s death, and in Nora’s condition, Bridget very much doubted she could be convinced otherwise.
I should have known better than to believe this marriage could be anything other than too good to be true.
Forcing herself out of her frozen state, Bridget left the parlor and headed toward her room. As hopeful as her marriage to Adrian had begun to feel, it was painfully clear in that moment that it could not endure.