Free The Major's Faux Fiancee by Erica Ridley Page A

came into her portion and then break the false betrothal. Bartholomew couldn’t cry off without damaging her reputation, so she would have to be the one to do the jilting. His reputation was of no consequence. He would return to his life of solitude just as soon as the ink dried, and never think of it again.
    Oh, very well. He would think of it. Think of her . Every night, most likely.
    He’d wonder where she was and what she was doing. If she’d found a husband and gotten married. If she ever thought of him, and what it might have been like if their betrothal had been in truth. If they would have indulged in a torrid affair.
    Or if she had found someone else. Someone she could love.
    Captain Steele pulled two identical contracts from a drawer in the desk. He filled in Bartholomew’s information in the blank area reserved for the suitor’s name, then pushed both documents across the desk along with two plumes and an inkwell. “Sign.”
    Bartholomew scanned the tiny print for hidden surprises, then signed his name at the bottom. For better or worse, the deed was done. He switched copies with Daphne and repeated the process. He then walked both sheets over to the fire to encourage the ink to dry as quickly as possible.
    When the script no longer shimmered, he handed one of the sheets of parchment back to the pirate. He rolled the other into a narrow tube and slid it into his waistcoat. “Are we through?”
    “You and I, perhaps.” Captain Steele tossed his copy of the contract into the wall safe behind the desk. “Your life with Miss Vaughan, however, is just beginning.”
    “And you are no longer part of it.” With a gentle touch of his fingers to the small of Daphne’s back, Bartholomew angled her out the door. Thank God that was over. He lowered his mouth to her ear. “This could have been solved so much easier with dueling pistols.”
    “Or just pistols,” she muttered back. “No sense waiting until dawn. I’ve no idea how that man is still alive. Everyone he meets becomes his enemy.”
    They reached the corridor just as the footman hurried straight toward them.
    “Visitors, miss.” He glanced about nervously. “Shall I send them away?”
    Daphne rubbed her temples. “Pray, do. I’m through with company for the day.”
    “I’m certainly not.” Captain Steele slipped from the vicar’s study and widened his arms in welcome. “Who’s come to see me?”
    “No one. They’ve come for Major Blackpool.” Flushing, the footman wrung his hands at Bartholomew. “Sir, your parents are here.”

Chapter Ten

     
    Parents. Daphne’s breath whooshed out of her at the word.
    It was impossible not to feel sorry for herself. Not to be jealous. How could she? Bartholomew’s parents were still alive. They showed up even when he wasn’t expecting them. They loved him. They certainly weren’t forcing him to marry against his will, just because they didn’t wish to deal with him.
    No. She swallowed hard. That wasn’t fair. Just because Bartholomew’s parents were still alive didn’t mean all three of them hadn’t suffered a loss just as powerful as hers.
    And here she was, forcing Bartholomew into a faux betrothal.
    How would they possibly keep his parents from finding out? She looped her arm through Bartholomew’s and dragged him forward. This was dreadful. They had to send his parents home immediately, before they ran into—
    Captain Steele’s hand fell upon Daphne’s shoulder before she finished taking her next step. “What’s the hurry, love? Of course we’ll invite Mr. and Mrs. Blackpool in for a nice spot of tea. It’d be right churlish to turn them away in this sort of weather.”
    Rooted in place, she slowly turned her head up toward Bartholomew, expecting to see writ upon his countenance the same panic jolting through her veins. That, or fury at Captain Steele’s obvious glee from meddling with their lives.
    Instead, she saw abject sorrow flit across his face, followed by a wince of pain.