The Bewildered Bride (Advertisements for Love) by Vanessa Riley

Author:Vanessa Riley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: African American Historical Fiction; Historical British Fiction; Regency Historical Romance; Women's Historical Fiction; African American Romance Fiction; Action & Adventure Romance Fiction; WOC romance; African-American romance; Regency romance; Historical romance; British literature; Mulatto Romance; passing; Blackamoor; secret baby; baron; heiress; second chance; redemption; Newspaper ads; Revenge; Mistaken Identity; Vanessa Riley; Entangled Publishing; Full Length Romance; Single Title Romance; Amara; Stand Alone Romance; Women of Color Romance;
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC (Amara)
Published: 2019-07-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

The Patriarch Needs a Word

I sat in front of my mirror, balancing my spectacles by pushing them up and down my nose, as I tried to get the focus right.

Wycliff was coming for tea. I had an urge to take a little more care.

Ester popped inside, whipping through the door I’d purposely left open. “Here, use these pearl pins. They will make your curls so pretty.”

“Thank you but no, Ester.”

I grabbed my brush but saw my sister’s reflection in the mirrored glass.

Why did she frown? Why were her lips trembling?

“Out with it, Ester.”

“I didn’t mean for Christopher to be in trouble. I didn’t look…for just a moment. He could’ve been hurt.”

I turned and grabbed my sister and pulled her into a hug. “Chris is fine. He’s fine. I’m his mother, and I couldn’t even get to him. If not for Lord Wycliff… Let’s not talk of this anymore.”

My sister wiped at her eyes. “He did us a great service. I’m indebted to him for saving my nephew. I know this is wrong to say, but I still don’t trust him, Ruth. He’s hiding something.”

Everyone has secrets.

I did. I’d hinted at being found at a brothel, and the man hadn’t even blinked. Too smooth. Or because of his nosiness did he already know?

“Ruth, Bex thinks he’s involved with unrest at the docks. The Wilkinson family is deep into shipping. There are strikes and strange occurrences. People have died.”

“One man. A mulatto man is responsible? Ester, do be serious.”

Pacing, Ester crossed her arms about her sand-colored shawl. She was a desert priestess and oracle of bad news. “How do I help you see what I see?”

“Sight puns are beneath you. Maybe you can try something from your favorite Shakespeare.”

Tugging at an errant lock, I pinned it high on my head. I took one of the daisies that had bloomed from Wycliff’s bouquet and slid it right into my braid before forming my chignon. “I do trust him. And I owe him my son’s life. That has to mean something. Why should I question his business dealings? Maybe he is as good as Papa at keeping family safe from his dealings.”

“That could be, but Papa’s been at this a long time. This Lord Wycliff has come from nowhere. Bex can find nothing on him other than his father retired to the country four years ago.”

I put down my brush, then swung my legs and turned on the stool. The hem of my mulberry gown flapped as I faced Ester. “You had your husband look into him?”

Cornered, my sister folded her arms. “Yes. I had him look into the barrister, too. You remember Mr. Marks, the man with whom you’ve been exchanging letters.”

“Perhaps he’s forgotten.” I picked up the parchment wrapped with a scarlet ribbon. “Another regret. He’ll not be able to take me on a drive this week. Next week, he will.”

“He is very busy. He saved a widow from being convicted of coining. That could be a capital offense, forging false coins.

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