Harlequin Historical September 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Christine Merrill

  ‘I was wondering,’ she said, hesitating, ‘if you had considered my request to visit my sister.’

  ‘Reconsidered, you mean,’ he said, staring out of the window. ‘Why is this so important to you?’

  ‘Because...she is my sister,’ Liv said, wondering if it was because Alister had no siblings that he found this so hard to understand. ‘I have not seen her since she ran away. It has been almost six months.’

  ‘Then you should be growing used to her absence,’ he said, as if this should settle the matter.

  ‘On the contrary, I miss her more each day,’ she replied.

  ‘But that does not change the fact that the wife of a tattler for a scandal sheet is not the sort of company I would wish a wife of mine to associate with,’ Alister said with a shake of his head.

  ‘We cannot avoid association,’ she said. ‘She is my family.’

  ‘She was your family,’ he said firmly. ‘As of today, I am your family. You do not need your sister, or your brother, with his dubious reputation. From now on, you will have me, and that is all you will need.’

  For a moment she could not breathe. She had escaped her brother’s house and nothing had changed. She would just be living in another man’s house instead. And, though he was not a murderer, Alister seemed to be under the impression that she did not need any more company than his own, and needed no more freedom than he was willing to allow her.

  She wanted to shout to the driver to stop the coach. She wanted to get out, to run through the fields beside the road until she was clear of all of mankind, to hide in the grass like a rabbit, still and scared, until everyone tired of looking for her.

  Then she remembered that there was someone who would never tire until he had found her. ‘What will we do if Mr Solomon catches us again?’ she said, in hope rather than fear.

  ‘Then we will elope again,’ Alister said, relaxing into the seat. ‘We will run away as many times as are necessary until we succeed, and he and your brother will admit defeat.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said. The man who had waited for her for two years and more was clearly the man who could wait out the opposition, fomenting plot after plot until he got them to Gretna. There was nothing particularly romantic about a war of attrition, but it seemed that that was what they were fighting. She could not exactly complain about it. It was the future she had been hoping for. Now that it was here, it was too late to request a change of plan.

  * * *

  They rode for several hours until the sun was low on the horizon and the clear day had clouded to a promise of a stormy evening. The first raindrops were falling when they reached the inn where Alister said they would stop for the night. It was further than they had got on their last aborted escape, and she was torn between hope and despair. Some part of her had been assuming that Mr Solomon would stop them in the middle of the road, as he had the last time.

  But he had not arrived. And if Alister chose to take advantage of their first night alone to show her he loved her in the most physical way possible, she could not refuse him. She had been anticipating this night for as long as she could remember. Her sister had assured her that, if it was done in love, there was nothing wrong with it.

  But now that the moment was near, she wondered if that was the truth of her heart. She could not believe that love did not exist, as Mr Solomon claimed. She had only to remember the look in Peg’s eyes as she had talked of David Castell. But suppose Mr Solomon was right that she did not love Alister? None of what had happened today resembled the secure and happy future she had been hoping for.

  It did not matter. Perhaps a deepening of feeling was something that came with intimacy. And they would be married in another day or two. It would be better than the life she had, because she would find a way to make it so. As Alister led her into the taproom of the inn, she worked hard to clear her mind of all negative thoughts. It was just the two of them. No one would be arriving to interrupt. Nothing would be prevented.

  Or spoiled. She meant spoiled. At least she was sure that Alister loved her. He would not have gone to all this trouble otherwise. He gave her an encouraging smile as he left her in the corner and enquired about dinner and the finest room for him and his wife.

  A single room, then. That answered the question of intimacy. She felt her heart give another nervous flutter.

  ‘Not a room to be had,’ the innkeeper said with a smile.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Alister was staring at him as if the possibility was not one he had considered.

  ‘We have coach passengers planning to spend the night on the benches of the coffee room,’ the innkeeper said, beaming at the success he was having. ‘There is some space left, of course.’

  ‘We will take the room,’ Alister said quickly.

  ‘I said space. The room itself is not exactly empty,’ the innkeeper went on.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Alister said again, still confused.

  ‘The room is large, warm and dry. I might be able to persuade its occupant to share the mattress. And I believe there is a chair...’

  ‘Devil’s teeth,’ said Alister, thoroughly undone. ‘I am travelling with a lady.’

  ‘It is that or the coffee room,’ the innkeeper insisted. ‘Your wife will not be at risk as long as you are there to protect her.’

  ‘Lead us to it then,’ her companion said through gritted teeth. Then he muttered to her, ‘I will see if money can persuade the fellow to budge so we might have some privacy.’

  ‘That is not necessary,’ she whispered, afraid to tell him that the romantic mood, if ever there had been one, was ruined. With the inn packed to the rafters, she did not imagine there would be much privacy, even if they emptied the room. And the presence of a chaperone, however unwanted, would give her one more night before the inevitable.

  She climbed the stairs behind Alister and the innkeeper, her head hung, hoping that if she did not see the people around her, perhaps they would not notice her either and she might pretend that this night had not happened at all.

  They reached the top of the stairs and the innkeeper led them to the left, past several doors before rapping smartly on the panels of one halfway down the corridor. ‘Mr Solomon, I must ask for your indulgence.’

  Dear God, no.

  When the door opened her worst nightmare stood framed in the doorway, stripped to his shirtsleeves and beaming at them as if he had been expecting them all along. Knowing him, he probably had. ‘Welcome, friends. It is a dashed bitter night out there. But there is a stove here, the sheets are clean and the mattress tight. I am sure we shall all be cosy.’

  ‘We most certainly will not,’ Alister said, fists balled. ‘The lady and I will set out for Scotland on the first coach available.’

  ‘There is a driving rain, which I did not orchestrate,’ Mr Solomon said with a smile, ‘although it is quite convenient. One might even take it as an omen from the Almighty.’

  ‘In the morning, then,’ Alister said. ‘After a night in the coffee room.’

  ‘For you, perhaps. But the lady with you is so exhausted she is swaying on her feet. She will stay in this room with me.’

  ‘And what makes you think you are worthy of her company, unescorted in the small hours?’

  ‘Of the two of us, I assume her brother would prefer it to be me rather than you,’ Solomon said, looking him up and down in challenge. ‘But if you do not trust me, then the three of us will stay here together. I have already arranged for the return trip to London on the morrow. You will find that the coachman who brought you thus far will not be willing to risk going against the Duke of Scofield to take you one foot further up the road.’

  Alister looked from Michael to her and back again, then seemed to relent. ‘Very well, then. We will share the room. We shall take the bed, and you the floor.’

  At this, Michael laughed. ‘Do you think I will let you m
ake mischief under the blankets?’ He pointed to the mattress. ‘It is wide enough for three.’ Then he threw himself on top of the covers in the middle of it and patted either side.

  ‘You don’t honestly suggest...?’ Alister said.

  ‘I do not suggest,’ he said with an icy smile. ‘I insist. You can take off your boots and help yourself to the side near the door. And, should you get up in the night, I don’t care if you need to leave to go to the privy or to perdition, as long as you go alone.’

  Then he glanced at Liv. ‘You, my lady, shall take the side closest to the fire, and the extra pillow as well. There is a screen in the corner, should you wish to loosen your stays. I will turn my back for privacy and will remain here, between you.’ Now his grin was positively devilish. ‘Blow out the candle when you are ready, Clement. Tomorrow is a busy day. We cannot stay up all night.’

  ‘You are out of your mind,’ Alister said, staring at him.

  ‘I should think you are the crazy one, if you wish to take the lady away from her loving and homicidal brother,’ Michael said, still smiling. ‘I, for one, plan to report to him that absolutely nothing happened this evening, which will assure the three of us that we will all be alive to greet the next week.’ Finished speaking, he did as he had promised and turned away from her so she could prepare for bed.

  She did little more than remove her shoes and climb under the covers, since the situation was far too strange to consider undressing. Once she had claimed her spot, he shifted until his body rested against hers, hard as a rock wall on the other side of the blankets.

  Alister groaned and she felt the ropes creak as he took his place on the other side.

  ‘You will pay for this, Solomon,’ Alister muttered.

  ‘Be paid a bonus, more likely,’ the man next to her said. ‘Now shut your gob and let us try to get some sleep.’

  Alister snuffed the candle and the room was reduced to gloom from the lit coach yard outside the window and the flickering light from the window of the stove.

  Liv lay as still as she could, staring at the ceiling, surprised to find that she was suppressing a giggle. The situation was ludicrous and completely unexpected.

  Perhaps not completely. In her heart, she had known that Mr Solomon would put a stop to the elopement before anything happened. He was too clever to be beaten. But she had not imagined that she would end the night sleeping beside him. She glanced in his direction and, as if he sensed it, he rolled onto his side to face her.

  His eyes were closed as if he slept, or feigned it, but his lips were curled in a satisfied smile, as if he knew she watched him and shared her sense of the absurd. His eyelashes were gold-tipped by the banked fire in the stove and the shadows bounced off the planes of his face, accentuating the high cheekbones and the firm chin.

  If she had seen him like this in the garden, she’d have run for her sketch pad to draw him with strong, masculine swipes of her pencil, wanting to capture the memory so she might look at it again, when she was alone.

  Suddenly, his eyes opened and he stared back at her, his gaze moving slowly down to her lips as if he was trying to memorise her face as she was his. She could feel it, like a fingertip tracing over her skin.

  He was aware of what he was doing to her, she was sure. His smile had changed to something hungry, and his eyes dropped again, kissing her throat and caressing the swell of her breasts, though his body was still. Not a muscle moved to indicate what was happening between them.

  But she could not seem to stay still. She arched her neck, offering herself to him and closing her eyes. Then she allowed her imagination to run free. In her mind, his hands went where his eyes had, stroking her skin, his mouth teasing her breasts. She tried to keep her breathing low and slow, like a sleeper in a dream. But the more she imagined what he could do to her, the harder it was to stay calm. She took a thin, hissing breath through her teeth, only to exhale in a shudder that seemed to rock her body to her toes.

  When it happened again on the next breath, she could see a spark of amusement in the dark blue eyes only a few inches from hers, and she watched his lips part and his tongue run along the inside of his teeth, as if considering which part of her to bite.

  There was a strange, urgent heat rising in her. Her legs felt restless and her body trembled. And then he blinked, and she hiccupped and let out a final sigh as the feeling dissipated as quickly as it had come.

  He was grinning now, satisfied with what he had done to her without even trying. It was probably why he did not notice Alister shifting on the other side of the bed.

  Liv closed her eyes to slits, not wanting to be caught awake, should he sit up to check on her. But he did not seem interested in her at all.

  She watched as his hand edged towards the heavy pewter candlestick on the nightstand. Then, inch by inch, he raised it high in preparation to roll his body and bring it down on their chaperone’s head.

  Before she could manage to cry out a warning, Mr Solomon saw the message in her eyes and rolled to face the other side of the bed, one arm up to block the downward progress of the candlestick. The jolt of bone hitting bone shocked the thing out of Alister’s grasp and it fell harmlessly on the bed as he snatched his arm back with a curse.

  Mr Solomon retrieved the candlestick, muttering an apology as he reached over her to place it on the opposite nightstand, safely out of Alister’s reach. Then he settled back to sleep, this time facing the door.

  * * *

  After a sleepless night, Mr Solomon followed them down to the coffee room, looking fresh and rested. He pulled a coin from his purse, waved it at a passing stable boy and enquired about the next coach for London. He bought two seats and looked expectantly at Alister. ‘If you care to make it three I will not object, but neither will I pay for you. If you are not interested in that, the horse I hired to get me this far is waiting to be ridden back.’ He grinned at Liv and explained, ‘A man on horseback can travel faster than a coach, even when the coach has a head start of several minutes.’ Then he ordered a hearty breakfast and settled himself on the nearest bench to wait.

  Once he was a step or two away, Alister pulled her into a corner and said, ‘You are not seriously going back with him, are you?’

  ‘What choice do I have?’ she said, feeling strangely relieved that it was all over.

  ‘We can ignore him and walk out through the door right now. We can get on the next mail coach heading north. I can find our driver from yesterday and offer a bribe bigger than the one Solomon offered, and we can continue on our journey.’

  ‘And he will come with us,’ she said with a sigh. ‘He will dog our every step until I agree to come back with him. He might push you into another ditch, for all I know. Or offer to witness the ceremony and then climb into our bed for the wedding night. Whatever he does, I doubt he will relent. All we can do is return to London and try another day.’

  ‘If you are serious about marrying me, you will follow where I go,’ he reminded her. ‘But apparently you have no faith in my abilities.’ The tone of the last sounded rather like pouting.

  ‘I have faith in you,’ she said quickly. ‘But I also know when it is time to admit that we have lost a game, but not the match.’

  ‘We cannot just give up,’ he insisted.

  ‘We are not giving up,’ she said, trying to remain calm. ‘We have waited this long. A little longer will do no harm.’

  ‘You may go back with him if you like,’ he snapped. ‘I have no intention of riding in any coach he is taking.’

  ‘Then you will be leaving me alone and unchaperoned with him,’ she reminded him, as gently as possible.

  ‘You shared a bed with the man last night,’ Alister said, loudly enough to cause a lady in the tap room to eye them curiously.

  ‘I shared a bed with both of you, and you know it was innocent,’ she snapped back. ‘But I would prefer that you not chide me
over something that was none of my doing.’

  ‘It was none of mine either,’ he almost shouted. ‘It was all that damned Solomon’s fault.’

  ‘He is only doing his job,’ she said, realising immediately that it was the wrong thing to say if she wanted to calm him so that the other passengers would stop staring.

  ‘Now, you are defending him,’ Alister shouted. This time, she was sure it was a shout, for she could not remember ever hearing him this angry. ‘It is as if you want him to succeed.’

  ‘I do not,’ she insisted. What she actually wanted was for her fiancé to not be so easily bested by him. That might be even worse, since she might be stuck with Alister, and his plans for her future. But if they were to part, she did not want to do it here, in front of a fascinated audience. ‘But I am not so foolish that I do not recognise when he has succeeded. There is nothing to be done today, other than to go back to London.’

  ‘Very well, then. Go!’ he shouted. ‘And we will see if I visit you again.’

  It seemed, as in everything else, he was not leaving her the right to cast him off, as a gentleman should. He was intent on humiliating her. But, before she could respond again, Mr Solomon was there, wearing the same bland smile he always did when pretending to be professional.

  ‘The coach is ready, Lady Olivia.’ He glanced at Alister. ‘Will you be accompanying us, Mr Clement?’ Then he gave the man a look that said he had better not be.

  ‘I am quite capable of finding my own way back,’ Alister snapped, still staring at her as if he expected her to come away with him. Why did he think threats and shouting would have changed her mind?

  She sighed, then glanced at Mr Solomon. ‘I am ready.’ She followed him out into the coach yard, head hanging in what she hoped looked like resignation.

  If Alister was sincere and did not want her any more, it said very little in favour of continuing to ride with him. Nor did she want to be trapped in a carriage with him while he was still fuming. It was not her fault that things had worked out the way they had, and this time she was not going to take the blame for it.