Their Golden Bride (Bridgewater Brides) by Ann Mayburn & Bridgewater Brides

Author:Ann Mayburn & Bridgewater Brides [Mayburn, Ann & Brides, Bridgewater]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ann Mayburn
Published: 2020-10-05T07:00:00+00:00

6

ROWAN

* * *

Slowly running her finger over the long, gilded handle of the fork, Rowan wondered if Mrs. Tibbs would be put out if Rowan stabbed the woman sitting across the room from her for openly flirting with Garret. The woman was French Canadian named Fleur, traveling with her uncle and cousin from Quebec to trade furs. She had gorgeous, thick brown hair that framed a very pretty oval face. And she had long, dark lashes that she used to maximum effect as she attempted to charm Garret.

The French Canadians had joined the Tibbs, minus Nancy, and Rowan and her men for some social time after dinner.

Edward, it had been decided by the men, would be Rowan’s public fiancé while Garret would pose as her cousin. They both had blonde hair and blue eyes and, even though his nose was narrow and aristocratic while hers was wide, they could pass as cousins. Very distant cousins, but close enough that people wouldn’t question their relationship.

But, as they sat there, having what should be a pleasant time talking with a charming Dr. and Mrs. Tibbs, Rowan couldn’t help but feel guilty as she watched Garret play a game of cards with Fleur and her family. To her surprise, Garret spoke fluent French, and it irritated her further that she didn’t know what they were saying. She could only read Fleur’s body language. Rowan grit her teeth as Fleur looked at Garret from beneath her lashes, blushing prettily as they all laughed at something Fleur’s uncle had said.

“And that’s when I became a monkey and decided to move to Russia,” Mrs. Tibbs said.

Startled, Rowan tore her jealous gaze from the card table and focused on Mrs. Tibbs again.

She found the older woman giving her a knowing look. “Green with jealousy is not a good color on you. Now put that fork down before we have to remove it from that poor simpleton’s eye. She is very pretty, but she is about as smart as my goat, Douglas—and he tries to eat dung.”

Edward coughed from the chair nearby where he was sitting with Dr. Tibbs as they both smoked their pipes near the fire.

Ignoring him, Rowan leaned forward as she set her dessert fork down next to the barely eaten, but delicious, chocolate cake. “I’m sorry. I know…” She tried to put her complicated feelings into words but was at a loss. “I’m not used to this.”

Mrs. Tibbs leaned closer so they were whispering together, their conversation low enough that it was almost inaudible over the sounds coming from the card game. “Forgive me if I am prying, but I would give you the same advice I gave my daughters when they were considering becoming Bridgewater Brides.”

Eager for some kind of guidance and feeling comforted by the older woman’s presence, Rowan nodded.

“This,” her gaze darted over to the card table, her mouth going tight, “is part of the price you pay for marrying a man from Bridgewater. The world is not a kind place, and there are those who would try to prosecute you for indecency and other foolish crimes.

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