The arrogance of the man. Greg scoffed. “If she’d wanted you, she wouldn’t be betrothed to me.”
Hellsburg shook his head. “Her wants mean nothing. She’s intended for me. That’s what my grandfather wants, and he always gets his way.”
“Not this time,” Greg growled.
“Time will tell.”
Indeed, it would. If that damned rector had been in Town, Bella would already be his wife. Tomorrow morning couldn’t come soon enough. “Leave Arabella alone.”
The man smirked once more and tipped his beaver hat in the direction of his cousins. Then he turned on his heel and strode back through the portrait gallery without even a glance back over his shoulder.
“What is going on, Avery?” came an unfortunate voice behind Greg.
Annoyed, he turned around and narrowed his eyes on his brother-in-law, who was not as upstanding as he pretended to be. “It’s none of your concern.”
“If that man is following my wife it concerns me.”
Greg shook his head. “Cordie has nothing to worry about from him. And neither do you.” Then he started back toward the women and that damned Haversham.
“Greg.” Bella released a staggered breath as she reached her hand out to him. “What did he say?”
Nothing Greg was going to repeat. There was no reason to upset her. As soon as he accepted her hand, that familiar calmness that always came from touching her washed back over him.
“You’re shaking,” she said softly, only loud enough for him to hear. Her silvery eyes bore into his, such concern, such…God in heaven, was that love he saw reflected back in her depths? Greg’s mouth went a little dry at the thought. There was something between them. He’d known that from almost the beginning, but love…
“The man is infuriating,” he muttered.
“Do you want to leave?” she asked.
Leaving would solve nothing. So Greg shook his head. “Not after all the talk of Elgin’s Marbles.” He feigned a smile for her benefit. “And we haven’t picked out the spot where one of your paintings will hang yet.”
That smile of hers that he couldn’t help but love settled upon her lips, and with it Greg was certain his heart expanded in his chest.
Chapter 22
Bella had seenthe marbles a number of times over the last few months, and each time she was struck anew by the craftsmanship and the sheer talent of the ancient sculptors. But today, she’d been too nervous to give the marbles the attention owed them. How could she possibly focus on them when a sense of dread refused to leave her?
Why had Johann followed them? And what, exactly, had he said to Greg?
The Marquess of Haversham had long since departed their little group, saying something along the lines that their company was not beneficial to his well-honed reputation. Bella had liked him, despite herself. After all, they wouldn’t have known Johann had even been following them if it wasn’t for him.
The last thing she wanted to do was return home to Chatham House, to Johann, to Grandfather, but she didn’t have a choice. If only Mr. Bailey had been at St. George’s today, she was certain her unease would have abated by now. But each second they got closer and closer to home, the more her belly twisted with trepidation.
“You have sighed at least a dozen times,” Greg said across the coach from Bella and Prissa. He had insisted on escorting the two of them back to Chatham House and had whispered to Bella that he really should speak with her father before they visited St. George’s again the next day.
“Anxious,” she said.
“It’s just one more day, my dear,” he said.
And though she knew he was right, that feeling of dread had only increased ever since they’d spotted her cousin at the museum that afternoon.
The Avery coach rambled to a stop in front of Chatham House, and Greg alighted from the conveyance before a footman could even open the door. He helped Prissa to the ground and then offered his hand to Bella.
“It will be all right,” he said for her ears alone.
She met his green gaze and did find some solace there. So she nodded in agreement, wanting to believe his words.
“Just keep to your room and avoid that man at all costs.”