"We still might find them in time," Charlotte said.
Edward merely grunted his reply. Charlotte could not fault his skepticism. They were both well aware the odds were not in their favor.
As they rounded another particularly sharp curve, Charlotte fought to keep herself upright, suddenly feeling all the exhaustion of a sleepless night overtake her weary body. Her head throbbed with a low pain. She moved her fingers to her temples and pressed them firmly in an effort to dull the ache, then rubbed her eyes and tried to ease the tenseness of her muscles, wishing it were possible to sleep, if only for an hour or two.
"Lean against my shoulder," Edward said, obviously guessing how much she needed to rest.
Charlotte was grateful for the offer. Knowing he needed all of his upper-body strength to control the horses, she moved closer and gently lowered her head, trying to put only the lightest pressure on his shoulder. She lay still for a long minute, forcing her body to relax. Her nose was close to his bare neck and she breathed in his clean, comforting scent, a pleasing mixture of tangy soap and salt.
Though hardly a soft cushion, Edward's shoulder provided her room to maneuver into a more comfortable body position. Gradually, Charlotte's eyes drifted closed. Her feet were cold, but the rest of her body was deliciously warm. Cuddled next to Edward she felt safe, relaxed. Her breaths turned even and within minutes she had slipped into the quiet oblivion of sleep.
The section of his upper arm and shoulder where Charlotte's head lolled against his body had lost all feeling, the feather that sat atop her stylish bonnet tickled his nose every time he shifted his head in her direction, and her deep, even breaths reminded him all too vividly of how bone-tired he felt. Yet Edward kept his body locked in the same position.
He could tolerate any discomfort if it brought Charlotte some measure of peace, afforded her even an hour or two of rest. That thought brought a flicker of surprise with it. When had Charlotte's comfort become so important to him, more important than his own? And not only her comfort, but her happiness and well-being?
When had he become the one who wanted to watch out for her, protect her, indulge her? Spoil her. The one to bring a smile to her lips along with a gasp of pleasure, to make her eyes alight with joy and her face glow with contentment. When exactly had that happened?
The earl's throat went dry. The feelings had hit him, fast and hard, and now ... and now ...
The sight of an upcoming village broke Edward's train of thought. He slowed the horses to a walk as they entered the picturesque hamlet and looked over the small street lined by shops and houses. He noted two taverns at the middle of the street's length and surmised this was a town of significant population to support two apparently prosperous establishments.
Regrettably, he did not see the one thing he was so desperately seeking-the spires of a church.
The change in carriage speed woke Charlotte and she shifted in her seat. `Where are we?"
"Somerville, according to the sign. I was here once as a boy but barely remember it." Trying not to show the raging frustration he felt, Edward took a deep breath. "The village boosts two taverns, but alas I see no evidence of a church."
"One must suppose the sinners have gained the victory in this small community," Charlotte remarked with a wry grin.
"Apparently." Edward stopped the vehicle in front of the larger inn and jumped out. "Wait here. I'll only be a moment."
He left the reins in Charlotte's capable hands and went into the taproom. A stout man in a clean white apron approached. "Welcome to the Bull and Finch. We have a private parlor sir, for ye and the lady. Won't take but a minute fer my wife to lay out the table and serve ye both a hearty luncheon."
Edward imparted what he hoped was a friendly smile. "I thank you for your offer of hospitality, but we have already partaken of our midday meal. I came to inquire after the nearest church. Is there one located close by?"
The man leaned on the wooden counter and glanced at the earl, his brows knitting. "Strange ye should ask, sir, seeing as ye are the second gentleman today who'd be wantin' a church."
Edward nearly jumped over the counter, but he held back his exuberance. In his experience, locals tended to be closemouthed and suspicious when one exhibited too much interest or made the matter sound too urgent. "The second one to ask you say? Hmmm, how odd." Edward cleared his throat. "So, is there a church in town?"
"There is," the innkeeper said. "And a fine one, too. On the north edge of town. There was a fire in the spring that destroyed the steeple, but the buildin' is open and the vicar should be around at this time of day. Just stay on the main road as ye drive through town. Ye can't miss it."
Edward dug into his pocket, withdrew several coins and hastily pushed them across the counter. "Thank you for your time."
The innkeeper looked confused, but he scooped up the money and it quickly disappeared within the folds of his apron.
Edward returned to the carriage in a much better frame of mind. His initial concerns that they were on a wild-goose chase, traveling on the wrong road, possibly in the wrong direction had been momentarily tempered. He willed the tension away and tried to focus on his driving. Thankfully, Charlotte sensed his mood and asked no questions.
The church was as easy to locate as the innkeeper had told him. As Edward maneuvered his team of horses to the side of the stone building, he recognized the carriage tied to a wrought-iron post as one of his own.
A wave of relief washed down his spine. They had found them! "I know that coach," Edward announced. "It's one of mine. Jonathan and Miss Montgomery must be inside."
Edward sprang from the carriage, then impatiently assisted Charlotte. They entered the church quietly, each shivering in the chilly air. Squinting down the long aisle, Edward could see a couple at the altar, their hands clasped together. The vicar was positioned in front of them, his prayer book open. Three women were standing in a semicircle nearby. The witnesses, in all likelihood.
Without another thought, Edward charged down the aisle, his boot heels echoing loudly on the stone floor. He could hear Charlotte scampering beside him, moving quickly to keep up. The commotion caused the vicar to pause. The church fell silent and Edward's quiet command was clearly audible. "Stop the ceremony at once!"
There was a blur of movement as the couple standing before the vicar turned toward him. Jonathan froze with a gasp when he saw the earl, his face turning pale at first, then becoming rapidly infused with color.
"Oh, dear Lord save us," Miss Montgomery squeaked, turning her face against Jonathan's broad shoulder, as if closing her eyes would somehow make the earl disappear.
The brothers regarded each other with identical blank stares.
The earl opened his mouth to give his brother a sharp set-down, but broke off abruptly when he felt a light touch on his arm. Confused, he looked over at Charlotte, who now stood by his side, her hand clasped on his arm. Her expression was grave, her eyes deeply troubled.
"The vicar was reciting the final prayer and bestowing his blessing on the newly married couple when we so rudely interrupted," she said. Her voice lowered even further. "I fear we are too late."
Edward lifted his head and considered the clergyman for a long, uncomfortable moment. "I am the Earl of Worthington, the groom's brother."
Misunderstanding completely, the vicar smiled. "Ah, so there is family to attend the service. That's wonderful."
"Hardly," Edward said curtly.
There was a gaggle of excited female whispers from the three witnesses.
Jonathan stiffened and leveled a warning look at his brother. "If you are not here to share in our joy, Edward, then I think it best that you leave."
Charlotte reached for the earl's hand and gave it a hard squeeze and Edward managed to swallow his angry retort. She bent her head toward him and spoke in a soft undertone.
"I beg you, Edward. Think carefully before you speak. Words said in anger and haste can be particularly biting and cruel. And once spoken, t
hey can never be retracted."
Edward considered her advice with a scowl, his gaze locked on Jonathan's unrepentant face as his younger brother viewed him with menacing calculation. The earl opened his mouth again, but his brother interrupted.
"You are too late. The vows have been spoken and in the eyes of God and man, we are married. I love Evelyn, and I respect her, and I plan on spending the rest of my life taking care of her and trying to make her happy. There is nothing that you can say or do that will change that, Edward. Nothing."
A nearly blinding anger streaked through the earl. "So, you will selfishly place your own happiness above any responsibility to your family?"
Jonathan's expression was incredulous. "My family should be pleased that I have found such a good, fine, gentle woman to share my life."
"She is unsuitable," the earl stated bluntly. "And clearly you know that or else you would not have snuck off with her like a thief in the middle of the night."
"Edward!" Charlotte cried out.
"No, the earl is right, Jonathan," Miss Montgomery said in a broken voice. "I am hardly anyone's first choice for a wife. My greatest worry was that our union would cause strife in the family and it has started already. Above all, I never wanted that to happen. We have just spoken our vows. Surely the marriage is not legal until we sign the register and the special license you brought? It is not too late to turn back."
"No! "Jonathan's voice came out with resounding force, as explosive as gunshots. "There is nothing anyone can say or do that will alter my feelings. You are my wife, Evelyn, the other half of my soul, and nothing will keep you from me."
Edward stole a look at his brother's bride, certain he would detect something akin to the desperation of a trapped hare. But surprisingly, her countenance was shaken, yet not crushed. She cast an imploring gaze on his brother, clearly seeking his guidance. The former Miss Montgomery apparently had more of a backbone than he had initially surmised.
For a moment Edward felt envious. Not of the beauty of his brother's bride, but of the obvious adoration she had for him. She was clearly ready to sacrifice her own happiness in order to ensure peace and harmony in Jonathan's life.
"Have you considered how our mother will react to this unexpected turn of events?" Edward asked.
Miss Montgomery's face blanched and Jonathan tightened his arm around her, then glared at his brother, for causing his bride distress. "We are prepared for Mother's initial displeasure, but hope her feelings will soften in time."
"And if they do not?"
Jonathan's forehead pleated into a frown. "I respect her and will always love her, but Mother will not dictate how I live my life. You taught me that, Edward."
The earl's lips curled up in an ironic grin. Why did Jonathan have to pick such an inconvenient moment to find his inner strength? He cast a glance at Charlotte, hoping she might have a more convincing argument.
"There will be scandal, disgrace-some might even say ruin," Charlotte said softly. "However, that scandal could be greatly lessened if you had the support of the earl."
"What?" Edward turned his head sharply. Charlotte was supposed to be supporting his position of preventing the marriage, not endorsing it.
"Look at them," she whispered sharply. "Nothing short of death will ever separate these two. We must therefore move on to a new plan. At least it is a marriage by special license and not the scandal of Gretna Green. With you and I to stand as witnesses, the sting lessens even more."
Edward slowly felt his anger wane. Charlotte was right. Jonathan would not forsake Evelyn no matter what they said. His brother was known for having a carefree, genial attitude and that was true, yet he also possessed an excessively strong will. When he decided to do something, he was like a boulder rolling down a steep incline; nothing could stop him.
But even more significant, what Edward saw in his brother's eyes could not be misunderstood. Jonathan was truly smitten. He stood with his arm around Evelyn, protecting her, possessing her, holding her close, treating her as something extremely precious. He was the picture of a man in love.
Edward mulled over his choices and made his decision. "If I could beg your indulgence, Vicar, would you be so kind as to start the ceremony again, so that we may hear it all?"
"With great pleasure, my lord," the vicar said loudly, to be heard above the sighs of relief from the bride and groom and squeals of delight from the three female witnesses, who were his unmarried daughters.
The cleric opened the Bible and began the service, adding romantic flourishes whenever possible. Edward listened intently to the words he had heard many times, weighing each word and their significance.
"I, Jonathan Anthony Charles Barringer, take thee, Evelyn Margaret Montgomery, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better for worse, for richer for poorer. . .
Edward suddenly realized that money might be a problem for them. Jonathan had a quarterly allowance, which was generous for a gentleman, but hardly sufficient to support and wife and hopefully someday, children. Edward would need to adjust that as soon as possible, and also look into establishing a separate account for Evelyn. Though it was the usual arrangement, he felt it was not right that a woman should have to rely on her husband for every penny.
"In sickness and in health,"Jonathan continued, "to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth."
A loud sniff distracted him. Edward turned with a slight grin, expected that one, two, or all three of the young female witnesses would be crying but instead discovered Charlotte's eyes were bright with tears.
"'Tis such a moving service," she whispered defensively. "I have never seen a more radiant bride nor a more exuberant groom."
"They do look very pleased with themselves." He cast her a mock frown. "As for the service, the vicar is quite enthusiastic, yet I have always wondered, what exactly is a troth?"
Charlotte smiled through the tears, just as he intended. The vicar gave the final blessing, again, and they all bowed their heads and prayed. When at last given the signal, Jonathan gathered his bride in his arms and gave her a hard, passionate kiss, pushing aside any lingering doubts Edward might have about his decision to support his brother's choice.
After kissing both of his brand-new sister-in-law's cheeks, Edward pulled his brother into a rough hug. "You have really done it this time."
Jonathan grinned sheepishly. "I have indeed, and I must confess, I have never felt happier!"
The vicar led them to the back of the church where they signed the register and the special marriage license. Edward and Charlotte insisted on signing also, legally recording their participation as witnesses.
With a sincere word of thanks, and a generous contribution toward rebuilding the church steeple that the recent fire had claimed, they took their leave. Once they reached the church courtyard, Edward and Jonathan started discussing the state of the roads for travel and argued good-naturedly over the best route.
"I know we must make haste to return, but can we take a brief rest before we start our journey?" Charlotte asked.
Edward opened his mouth to refuse, but caught the look of longing in Charlotte's eyes. "It would be wise to spare the horses for an hour," he decided. "The Bull and Finch boasts a private parlor. We shall make use of it before we brave the road."
When they arrived, there were a few men in the taproom, but the inn was still uncrowded.
"I see ye found the church, sir," the innkeeper said with a curious look when the four of them entered the tavern together.
"I did indeed," Edward replied. "I also discovered my brother and new sister-in-law inside, just as I had hoped. We do not have much time to spare, but I will take you up on the offer of that private parlor, if it is still available."
"It is, sir."
"Excellent. A bottle of champagne, please. The best the house has to offer."
The private parlor was a pleasant surprise. A square, we
ll-sized room with a timbered ceiling and a large fireplace, in which a cheerful fire crackled. In the center of the room was a comfortable table surrounded by six chairs. Jonathan and Evelyn cozied together on two of them, but Edward followed Charlotte to the fire and held out his hands.
"It is a cold day," he said.
"You did the right thing, Edward," Charlotte remarked without looking at him. "I'm very proud of you.
He smiled into the dancing flames. Her approval meant a great deal. Especially since she might likely be the only one to bestow it upon him. Even the free-thinking Lord Reginald was expecting him to somehow have prevented this marriage.
But gloomy thoughts had no place at this celebration. The champagne was uncorked and Edward poured everyone a glass. He then held his goblet aloft and extended his hand half across the table. "To the beautiful Evelyn and my rascal brother, Jonathan. Long life and great happiness to you both."
They all smiled, touched the rims of their glasses together and drank. Regrettably, there was no time to savor the sparkling nectar. After a quick second glass each, the bottle was empty and it was time to depart. The women left to take care of their personal needs, leaving the brothers alone.
"I still think it might be better if Evelyn and I continue on our journey north and return to Farmin- ton Manor after Christmas,"Jonathan said. "Maybe sometime in the spring?"
"Oh, no," Edward replied, shaking his head adamantly. "You are not going to abandon me to face Mother alone. We stand united."
Finishing the last of his champagne with a long swallow, Jonathan inquired, "Precisely how are we going to break this news to her?"
"Leave that to me." Edward replied with a confidence he was far from feeling. "All you need do is cuddle your new bride and keep your eyes on the road home."
CHAPTER 20
Driving the carriage down the road at such high speed allowed little opportunity to speak with each other, though Charlotte felt too mired in her own thoughts to engage in conversation. She suspected that Edward felt the same.
The Christmas Heiress Page 27
