The Damaged Bride

Chapter 6

Marcus sat alone in his study, reading and rereading the parchment Douglas O’Flagnery had given him. It was a document of mixed blessings. In it he was financially free of that odious old bastard, but he was now bound to his granddaughter.

From this unwanted wife he was required to produce at least one child, preferably male, with her in the first year, otherwise the debt owed would be reinstated with a heavy interest rate.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, and heaved a sigh. If this girl was anything like her conniving grandsire, which Marcus did not doubt, he knew he would never be happy with her in his home.

With troubled feelings, Marcus offered a prayer to God that when the time came, Bridgette would fulfill her duty without much resistance and give him the son her grandfather wanted.

Sitting forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his desk, he thought of the girl who was now his wife. She was pretty enough, that was true, with her alabaster skin and hair the richest auburn, but it was her eyes he hated. They were the same color as her grandfather’s, deep pools of malignant green.

Perhaps, after she had given him the sons he needed, he could send her to the dowager house, or perhaps Father Hillstrand could find a convent where he could send her and keep her completely out of the way.

With a heavy sigh Marcus rose and moved to put the parchment into its hiding place, wanting to ensure it was safely locked away from prying eyes and fingers. While he trusted his people, having that woman in his home made him nervous. When he turned back, he saw Bridgett standing in the shadowy doorway wrapped in a blanket. Her hair, mussed from sleep, tumbling in a braid over her shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded gruffly. “Already spying on me for your grandfather? I thought I made it clear that you were…”

He stopped as Bridgett moved forward quickly on bare feet, holding out her hand to him, offering him a small bundle of something wrapped in cloth.

“I wanted to give this to you,” she said softly, her green eyes searching his face. “It is my wedding present to you.”

Marcus came around his desk and took it from her soft, chilled fingers. Putting it down behind him on his desk, Marcus never took his eyes off of her.

“Was there anything else?” he asked flatly when she didn’t move.

“No,” Bridgett whispered, lowering her eyes. She’d hoped he would have opened it and see what it was, but perhaps later was better. Perhaps when he was in a more receptive mood.

“Fine,” Marcus said pointing towards the door, “then go back to your room and stay there.”

Obediently, Bridgette curtsied and left the room, her bare feet making no sound on the stone floor. After the door closed behind her, he snatched up the small bundle, ready to throw it into the fire, but the weight of it startled him. He hadn’t noticed it when he’d taken it from her hand, but it felt of metal beneath the cloth.