The Wedding Pact (Marriage by Fairytale Book 3) Read online

  Marriage by Fairytale Series: Book 3

  The

  Wedding

  Pact

  Ruth Ann Nordin

  This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and also represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher.

  The Wedding Pact

  All Rights Reserved.

  Copyright 2019 Ruth Ann Nordin

  Cover Photo made by Love Books Daily

  https://www.promoforauthors.com

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without expressed written consent of the publisher/author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Available Books in This Series

  All Books by Ruth Ann Nordin

  Where to Find Ruth

  Chapter One

  August 1825

  It was Miss Ophelia Crowe’s twenty-first birthday, and the day seemed especially important to everyone around her. That morning, her routine had been disrupted by a flurry of activity. As soon as she woke up, she took a bath, and the maid, who hadn’t helped her with the bath since she was a child, cleaned her back and made sure her hair was “properly” washed. Ophelia hadn’t been aware that she’d been washing her hair the wrong way, but now the maid was making her think she’d been doing something wrong all of these years.

  After her bath, the maid checked her over for any blemishes. Ophelia had to resist the urge to cover herself. The only reason she didn’t was that the maid had the towel. The maid concluded her inspection with a satisfactory nod then finally let Ophelia put the towel around herself.

  From there, three maids worked on getting her dressed. One worked to make sure her nails were trimmed and smooth. Another fussed over her golden hair, doing everything possible to bring out the curls.

  The last maid painstakingly adjusted the red and purple gown that she had made specifically for Ophelia’s birthday.

  Surprised that the maid should want her to wear it so early in the day, Ophelia asked, “Isn’t this better suited for dinner?”

  “Lord Wolfe said you must wear it first thing this morning,” the maid replied.

  “You need to look your best,” another maid added as she approached Ophelia with a matching pair of gloves. “Today is a very special day. You’ve been preparing for it since you were a child.”

  “I have?” Ophelia asked, not hiding her surprise.

  “You had to realize you’d be meeting your guardian at some point,” the third maid said with a chuckle in her voice.

  “We should put the slippers on before we put her jewelry on,” the second maid told the third one. “Lord Wolfe was specific about the order we are to do this.”

  “You’re right.” The third maid left the vanity and went to the armoire. “These are new slippers.” She picked them up and went over to Ophelia. “Everything is to be new today.”

  “And perfect,” the first maid said. “Lord Wolfe is a gentleman of order. He insists that things be perfect.”

  Ophelia was going to meet her guardian today? Almost on a daily basis while growing up, she’d been told that she must do things the way he wanted them done. But she was beginning to assume she’d never meet him.

  “He’s making the trip all the way from America to meet you,” the second maid said as she finished putting Ophelia’s gloves on.

  “I thought he had a townhouse in London,” Ophelia replied.

  The third maid brought over the slippers, and the other maid lifted the hem of the gown so she could slip them on. “He does have a townhouse in London,” the maid began, “but he hasn’t been in London for the past two years. He’s a gentleman who travels often. You won’t be stuck here in this remote estate much longer.”

  The maid winked at Ophelia, but Ophelia had no idea what the maid was getting at. She didn’t even know why the other two maids giggled and gave each other knowing looks.

  “I don’t understand,” Ophelia said. “Why are you laughing?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” the second maid called out as she went to the vanity. “Ever since your parents died, we’ve been encouraged to make sure you’re ready for him on your twenty-first birthday.”

  “That’s what makes today so special,” the first maid said. She pulled the last ribbon around Ophelia’s gown and tied it into an attractive bow. “There. Once you have the jewelry on, you’ll be perfect.”

  The second maid returned to her with a necklace and a ring. Both items had an amethyst gemstone in them. After putting them on, she brushed Ophelia’s hair so that it was hanging over her shoulders, which was long enough to almost reach the top of her breasts.

  The first maid nodded in approval. “He’ll be pleased with what he sees. You are just as beautiful as your mother.”

  “You are,” the third maid agreed. “If one didn’t know better, they would swear you were her.”

  Ophelia knew the maids were paying her a compliment since she had seen the portraits of her mother and knew her mother had been a lovely lady. Even so, their words gave her an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something wasn’t right. But she couldn’t tell what that something was.

  A knock came at the bedchamber door, and the third maid ran to answer it.

  “I think everything’s done,” the first maid told the second one. “I’ll start packing.”

  Packing? Ophelia opened her mouth to ask them what they meant, but the second maid was already leading her to the door.

  On the other side, the butler held his arm out to her. “I’ve been instructed to bring you to the drawing room. Your guardian is here.”

  In the past, Ophelia had thought it’d be nice to meet this mysterious gentleman she’d always heard about. Now that the moment was here, she experienced a desire to run and hide. But she couldn’t figure out why. Was it because everything was happening so fast? Or was there something else—something based on instinct—that was warning her she didn’t want to meet him?

  But how could she refuse? All of her life, she’d always done what the servants wanted, and they’d been following Lord Wolfe’s instructions.

  “You’ll have to forgive the dear thing,” the maid told the butler as she put Ophelia’s arm around his. “This isn’t in her routine. I’m sure it’s overwhelming her.”

  The butler smiled at Ophelia. “That’s understandable.” He patted her hand in a fatherly fashion. “Once you meet Lord Wolfe, things won’t be so awkward.”

  Ophelia could only hope he was right.

  He led her down the hall and then down the stairs.

  Everything was quiet. That was unusual. Even if she was her parents’ only child, and therefore the only person the servants had to take care of, there was usually plenty of activity going on through the manor this time
of day. Someone would be humming a tune, walking around, or talking. Ophelia might have grown up without her parents, but she’d never felt alone. It was strange that she should suddenly feel that way now.

  She glanced over her shoulder. From the top of the stairs, she saw two of the maids watching her. They didn’t follow. They just stood up there, smiling as if this was the best thing that was happening to her. She frowned and faced forward. Maybe if her guardian had stopped by at some point in her life before now or if she had received correspondence from him, the urge to bolt for the front door wouldn’t be so pervasive.

  She had to force herself to follow the butler’s lead once they reached the bottom of the steps. The front door wasn’t far from her. She could let go of the butler’s arm, and she’d be out of here within seconds. No. She couldn’t do that. She had to do what was expected of her. It was all she’d ever done. Today would be no different.

  The butler led her to the drawing room, and there was a gentleman standing at one of the windows. His back was to her, so she couldn’t see his face. He was taller than she’d imagined. If she had to guess, she’d say he was slightly over six feet tall. His shoulders were broad, his hair dark with a light sprinkling of gray in it, and his posture was perfectly straight.

  “My lord,” the butler said, “Miss Crowe is with me.”

  Lord Wolfe turned from the window. He was older than she’d expected. Mid-forties. Maybe a couple years older. He had a strong jaw, strong cheekbones, and gray eyes. She shivered and glanced away from him. It wasn’t that he was ugly. He wasn’t. He was handsome, but there was something in those eyes that made her feel as if she’d just stepped out into the cold winter air.

  Lord Wolfe made a move toward her, and she instinctively brought her attention back to him.

  “You may bring us the tea now,” Lord Wolfe told the butler in a voice that was both deep and smooth, two qualities that fit his stature well.

  The butler released her arm then offered a bow and left.

  Ophelia forced her feet to remain in place lest she run after the butler. She didn’t know why, but the way Lord Wolfe was looking at her bothered her.

  “Do you like green tea?” Lord Wolfe asked her as he approached.

  She cleared her throat. “Is there another kind of tea?” All of her life, that’s the only kind she could remember drinking.

  “There are lots of flavors, but green tea is the only kind you need to drink.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re a curious young lady,” he replied as he walked around her, his gaze scanning her up and down. “Is that something the governess or the servants encouraged?”

  “Miss Drake allowed me two questions at the end of every lesson.”

  He stopped in front of her, and that was when she realized he was much taller than her. She took a step back to put some distance between them.

  “Curiosity can be a notable trait,” he said. “But it’s good to limit how much you ask. In polite society, it can be a sign of rudeness. I hope Miss Drake was diligent in teaching you manners.”

  “Yes.” Then, recalling one of her lessons, she hurried to add, “My lord.”

  He seemed pleased by this, for he offered a slight nod.

  The butler returned to the room, and she felt an immediate sense of relief. He put the tray on the table in front of the settee. “Will there be anything else?”

  “Not at the moment,” Lord Wolfe replied. “We will eat in thirty minutes.”

  “Very well, my lord,” the butler said and bowed again.

  The relief she’d experienced departed as the butler left the room. And not only did he leave the room, but he shut the drawing room doors.

  “Come,” Lord Wolfe encouraged as he walked over to the settee, “have a seat and drink some tea.”

  She looked at the closed doors. She was expected to be here in this room—alone with a stranger—for an entire half hour? Even if he was her guardian, she didn’t know him.

  “Ophelia?”

  Startled by the sound of her name coming from him, her gaze snapped back in his direction.

  He stood by the settee, hands clasped in front of him, and though he smiled, there was no warmth in it. “Did any of the servants tell you who I am?”

  She swallowed. “You are my father’s cousin. The estate went to you upon his death.” She started to shift from one foot to another but reminded herself that she must stand up straight. “You’ve been my guardian this entire time.”

  “That is correct. So, as you can see, there’s no reason to be nervous. I only have your best interest at heart. I’ve made sure you’ve been taken care of for all of these years. I won’t stop that now.” He gestured to the settee. “Come. Sit. Drink.”

  She glanced at the settee, and after a moment, she forced her feet to move forward. Perhaps once she sat down and started drinking the tea, she’d feel more at ease.

  He waited until she was sitting before he sat next to her. He had chosen to sit closer than she would have preferred. On instinct, she moved further from him.

  “I should have known you’d be shy,” he said. “You’re not used to people.”

  “The servants are always here.”

  “Yes, but they’re not like me. They’re not like you. We are above them.”

  She thought to ask him how he and she were above them, but she decided to keep her mouth shut while he poured the tea for her. To her surprise, he filled it three-fourths of the way up, just as the maids and butler always did.

  Lord Wolfe handed her one of the cups. “I trust you had a good morning.”

  She accepted the cup, and, since it was expected of her, she nodded. “Yes, the morning has been good.” So far. She wasn’t sure where that particular thought came from. Willing the observation aside, she hurried to take a sip of her tea.

  “Good. You’re just as refined as I hoped,” he said.

  She glanced at him. It was hard to maintain eye contact with someone so imposing. When Miss Drake had extended compliments to her during her lessons, it’d made her feel warm with pleasure. When he did it, it felt entirely different. She took another sip of the hot tea.

  He took a drink of his tea and let out a contented sigh. “You don’t have to stop asking questions, my dear. I didn’t mean for you to be so quiet.”

  After a moment, she said, “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Well, we must start somewhere. Our relationship won’t be of much interest if we don’t speak.”

  She frowned. What did he mean by that?

  “Do you remember anything about your parents?” he asked.

  Feeling a bit more at ease since he had mentioned her parents, she said, “I don’t remember much. I know my parents loved each other.”

  “Yes, they most certainly did.”

  She glanced at him again as he drank more tea. Was there bitterness underlying his tone, or was she imagining it?

  “What else do you remember?” he asked.

  “Oh, um…” She cleared her throat. “I remember feeling safe when they were around. I have one memory in particular of my mother.”

  “Do you?”

  “She was rocking me to sleep. I was wrapped up in a blanket. She was singing me a lullaby.”

  “Do you remember the lullaby?”

  “Parts of it.”

  “Let me hear what you remember.”

  A blush crept up her cheeks. She hadn’t sung around anyone except for Miss Drake, and that was only because Miss Drake had made it a part of her lessons. She didn’t want to sing in front of him.

  “Go on,” he encouraged. “Miss Drake wrote to me and said you have a lovely voice. I’ve been eager to hear you sing.”

  Miss Drake had written to him about her singing? She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Miss Drake was under his employment. She probably had to report to him on a regular basis about her progress.

  But even so…

  “I don’t feel like singing,” Ophelia said.

&
nbsp; “You shouldn’t be so bashful,” he replied. “Miss Drake said you have considerable talent. I want to know if she’s right.”

  So, he wasn’t going to let her get away with not singing. He was going to insist she satisfy his curiosity. She straightened her shoulders, and though she’d been taught to lift her chin while singing, she ended up staring at the cup in her hands while she softly sang what she remembered of the song.

  When she was done, she let out a sigh of relief. She had no idea it could be so hard to sing in front of someone other than Miss Drake. Miss Drake had always made her feel comfortable.

  “Splendid,” Lord Wolfe whispered. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were your mother.”

  Surprised by the wistful tone in his voice, she turned her gaze to him. He didn’t seem to looking at her. He seemed to be looking through her.

  In the next moment, he blinked, as if snapping out of some memory he’d been holding onto. “Do you remember anything else?”

  She shook her head. “I was five when they died. I came to live here shortly after that.”

  “You don’t remember me at all, do you?”

  “I thought this was the first time I met you.”

  “Considering how young you were, I suppose that’s to be expected. I had visited your parents on occasion, and I’d see you then. Your father had no brothers. I was the closest male relative he had. That’s why I inherited his title and estate when he and your mother suffered that tragic carriage accident. I arranged for you to live out here after their funeral. I saw no reason for you to grow up in London.”

  “Why?”

  “London is full of gentlemen who will take advantage of a young lady’s sweet nature. Very few can be trusted. I brought you here to protect you from that, and I made sure to select servants who would follow my instructions. My goal was to keep you safe. You have felt safe all this time, haven’t you?”

  She had up until today, so she opted to nod in response.

  He smiled. “Good. I wanted you to be an innocent companion when I came for you.”