Unveiled (Undone by Love Book 3)

Author:Kristina Cook [Cook, Kristina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

It was done. Hayden straightened his cravat and reached for his whip as he called for his curricle. Miss Upshaw’s father had accepted his suit, and all was settled. By autumn he and his new bride would return to Richmond Park. Yet he found no joy in the arrangement. Instead, he felt strangely hollow, resigned to his fate. He sighed as he stepped up into the curricle and took up the ribbons. He gently slapped the horses’ backs and the conveyance lurched off. He was not the first man to marry one woman while desiring another; certainly he would not be the last.

Glancing up, Hayden noted the perfect sky, clear blue with wisps of clouds drifting lazily toward the horizon. How could the day seem so tranquil when inside he felt anything but? He grimaced at the irony of it.

The day was warm–not unpleasantly so, but enough to draw a thin film of perspiration across his brow as his curricle rattled along the streets of Mayfair. He reached for his handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead, suddenly thinking to head to Gunter’s for an ice. If he were lucky, most of the ton would remain in Hyde Park enjoying the weather, and he would be left mercifully alone. With a nod to himself, he reined the matched pair of grays toward Berkley Square.

Minutes later he entered the establishment with a satisfied smile. Very few patrons crowded the counter, and only a handful of carriages sat across the bustling street, awaiting the return of gentlemen ferrying ices, sorbets, and sweets to the eager ladies inside.

Once he had his own lemon ice in hand, he headed back outside to enjoy it in the sunshine. Leaning against the railing, he took an enormous bite, savoring the tart, tangy coldness on his tongue. For a flickering moment, he wished that Madeline were there with him, for the child greatly enjoyed ices. He shook off the thought. Madeline couldn’t accompany him to London. It simply wouldn’t do. There were too many questions about her parentage that must remain unanswered. Yes, Madeline was best tucked safely away in the countryside, away from the prying eyes and wagging tongues of the ton’s notorious gossips.

Before he’d asked for Miss Upshaw’s–Dorothea’s–hand, he’d told her about his ward, confessed the shocking truth that she was his brother’s bastard child. She hadn’t blinked an eye at the news, and he’d made it clear that he would entertain no further discussion regarding her unfortunate origins. Still, she’d accepted him with a triumphant smile and sent him straightaway to her father, her pale blue eyes dancing and her alabaster cheeks flushed pink.

The arrangements had been completed in the most businesslike manner, and he’d left without bidding his affianced good-bye. He feared she might have expected a chaste kiss or some other display of affection, and he could not oblige her–not yet. Not till he somehow managed to erase the memory of Jane’s touch, Jane’s kiss, from his mind. No longer did he think of her as ‘Miss Rosemoor’–she was now ‘Jane.

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