by Kate Rolin
Not wanting an altercation to break out, for Mr. Pendenny seemed uncharacteristically ready to throw a punch, Argel stepped forward. “I’m ready, Mr. Pendenny. Shall we go?”
He stiffly nodded and turned, and she followed him outside to where two horses were waiting. Argel paused and turned around to look at her uncle. Indecision tore at her, unsure now of how she felt about him. Her life-long love for him, however, won out in the end and she finally embraced him, though neither spoke.
Turning now to Wynny, tears began to flow. She clung to her friend tightly, only pulling away when Mr. Pendenny cleared his throat behind her, “The coach, Miss Phillips. We mustn’t be late.”
“Of course,” Argel wiped her eyes as she turned to make her way to the spare horse.
Wynny followed her. “Oh, Argel! Whatever will I do without you? You must write me—every day! Just as you promised!”
Argel could only nod as Mr. Pendenny assisted her up on the horse.
As soon as she was settled, he turned towards her friend, and she could just make out his low words. “Wyn—Miss Hughes, I, uh…”
“I plan to visit Argel—often. You can be sure of it, Mr. Pendenny,” Wynny firmly stated, though a blushing smile belied her strict tone.
“Very well, Miss Hughes,” Mr. Pendenny turned to mount his own horse and Argel caught the confounded smile plastered on his face.
Goodness. It seemed that everyone was benefitting from this horrid arrangement.
Everyone other than herself, of course.
She, on the other hand, was being forced to leave her home, her uncle, everyone and everything she knew. And now she must go live with—and marry, no less—a complete and demanding stranger.
Never mind that her uncle was a lying crook.
Never mind that she’d always wanted to travel. Or that Wynny promised to visit often.
Never mind that her would-be husband was wickedly handsome. And frustratingly kind despite his demand. And that even thinking about him now caused her pulse to race.
Argel huffed and shook her head, following behind Mr. Pendenny.
Never mind, indeed.
Too soon, they arrived at the hotel where a daunting coach sat waiting out front and a young lad came out to retrieve their borrowed horses. No one else appeared to be waiting to board, so Argel dismounted and stood her ground, awaiting further instruction. Thankfully, Mr. Pendenny said no more to her, instead going to speak with the driver and leaving her alone for the moment.
Glancing around, she noticed a still figure off in the distance. She squinted to get a better view and realized it was Benson. She could see the early morning sun glinting off the balding spot on the top of his head. He was standing beside his cart, appearing to be watching her from up the road. Suddenly, his warning to beware the newcomers rang in her mind and she felt every bit the foolish child he likely believed her to be. She should have heeded his advice—should have stayed as far away as possible from one who in actuality was too good to be true.
Instead of wondering at his reason for watching from afar, her cheeks burned in mortification over her impudence and she briskly looked away. She gave not even so much as a wave to the man. She couldn’t bear the simple gesture as all other emotions had run dry—as dry as her eyes now were after a night of shedding tears.
No more goodbyes, she determined. She hadn’t the heart for it. At least she had already stopped by the inn last night to bid Mr. Pritchard, Cook, and the others goodbye. There was no need to go inside again today.
She would not seek him out.
As if on cue, Damon exited the hotel then, dressed just as he had been the first day they met. He looked nowhere but her as he marched his way over, appearing every bit an animal stalking its prey. He stopped just in front of her, and she had to tilt her head back to look up at his face. A small shiver ran down her spine.
“Good morning, Argel,” he said politely. “I…wasn’t sure if you’d come.”
Did he sound uncertain?
“I didn’t have much choice,” Argel firmly crossed her arms.
His forehead creased with a frown. “Argel…” His voice was rough as he tenderly—for that was the only way to describe it—reached up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear.
Unwilling to dwell on her heart’s resulting rapid pace, she lifted her chin and turned away sharply. Thank goodness they were calling for boarding at last—she relished the opportunity to walk away from the brute, if only for a moment.
And thank goodness Mr. Pendenny was here to travel with them as it seemed no one else would be leaving Beddgelert this morning.
No matter that they were to be married—she had no wish to be alone with Mr. Westmoreland at the moment. He had used her, tricking her to get to her uncle. This man who had seemingly held the key to every desire of her heart had turned out to be no more than a fraud, just like her uncle.
Argel made her way to the coach, where said betrothed held out a hand to assist her up. This she heartily ignored, grasping the side of the doorway instead. Settling into the middle of the forward-facing seat, she spread her faded skirts about her as much as possible, making it clear no one was to sit beside her.
He entered next, causing the coach to jerk with his bulk, and sat across from her, nearly filling the entire seat. She felt a tiny niggle of guilt as poor Mr. Pendenny squeezed in beside him, but still she refused to budge.
Narrow black eyes watched her like a hawk, causing her stomach to tumble, and they hadn’t even begun moving yet. Desperate to ignore him, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Perhaps sleep would come quickly.
“Pendenny, check that our bags are secure,” Damon barked, causing Argel to jump as her eyes popped open.
Wordlessly, Mr. Pendenny complied and before Argel knew what was happening, Dam—Mr. Westmoreland reached out to jerk the door shut, slamming it loudly. He pierced her with a look, making her skin prickle. “Argel, I know what you must think of me, but things are not all as they seem. There is more I will tell you.”
“When?” she shot back, attempting her best glare.
“Soon. Once we’re wed back in Abingdon-on-Thames and everything is final, I will tell you all.”
Argel again crossed her arms in defiance, but her glare faltered at his words. Final. The powerful single word echoed in her mind.
“Know this, Argel,” he continued with a serious raise of his dark brow, “I want you for my wife—in every sense. Not simply as a business transaction. I will protect you and I will give you time to adjust to the situation. But I warn you,” his voice dropped low, “where you are concerned, I am not a patient man.”
Oh. Argel swallowed, eyes growing wide.
Suddenly, Damon threw the door open and in climbed Mr. Pendenny. Shouts of departure were heard from outside then, and they were off. As they began moving, Argel turned to look out the window, suddenly feeling overheated.
She wanted to…to…to rail at him, this new dictator of her life.
But—as she thought on his words, and exactly what they meant, she realized a very foolish part of her still wanted him as well.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Two days later, Argel was again staring out the window at the passing countryside as rain lightly tapped the glass. Despite the newness and the import of being outside of Beddgelert for the first time, she was instead focusing on the thoughts running through her mind. After two days of silent travel—her jaw now hurt from clinching it so tight—she’d had plenty of time to ponder her predicament and to attempt to work out what exactly had happened. She focused on what she knew to be true and then on what questions remained unanswered.
Her uncle was a cheat—that much she believed, despite her initial shock. The fear and greed she’d seen in his eyes at Damon’s appearance and offer of redemption more than confirmed it. It had been like looking at a different man. And the fact that he’d been more than willing to sell her off spoke nothing to his innocence.
And she truly did have an inheritance: the bank document was sufficient proof. With her impending marriage—unwanted or not—she could claim it now. There would be no more waiting for her twenty-fifth birthday.
Perhaps this fact also answered one of her countless questions: why Damon wanted her so. Marriage also meant that her inheritance would immediately become her husband’s property—that beastly man.
Not beastly, exactly, she corrected herself. Perhaps that’s why most of her remaining questions surrounded the dark and mysterious stranger who had claimed her: he was a conflicting mixture of harshness and gentleness, light and dark. Not once had he laid a harmful finger on her since beginning this journey, and not once had he attempted to speak with her again. He appeared to respect her apparent disdain and did not seek to break her of her silent treatment towards him.
He’d even been almost chivalrous when she’d fallen asleep the evening before in the coach. Having reached their destination, she had awoken to find herself being gently carried into the inn in his arms. Any fear of his intentions was overridden by her continued anger and desire not to speak to him, so she continued to feign sleep, not even stirring when he gently laid her on the bed. She didn’t dare peek until she heard his footsteps walk away and the door click behind him.
It seemed that where her person was concerned, he was actually quite caring and protective.
Not to mention the way he treated her when they first met…
She huffed. It was ridiculous really: trying to figure this man out. What more was there to know? He’d stolen her from her home, forced her to leave family and friends and agree to marry him all in the name of saving her uncle. There should be no more to it. In fact, she should be seeking the first opportunity to run away…
But Uncle—Argel reminded herself for the millionth time why she could not run away. Her uncle would suffer likely a worse fate than debtor’s prison. Hadn’t Damon said there were others who would see him hanged? If she didn’t marry Damon, he wouldn’t repay those debts and they would come looking for uncle.
Deep down, she knew she wouldn’t be able to run free for long anyhow. He’d promised her before that he would pursue her to the ends of the earth if need be.
She flexed her stiff jaw as the muffled conversation of the two men across from her floated her way. She couldn’t let her guard down for one moment, not even after marriage. He may have some gentle qualities about him—she’d give him that—but a gentle devil was still a devil nonetheless.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Damon’s mood was terribly foul as he approached the coach waiting to depart from Hereford—and his back hurt. After what had felt like days on end of travel, cooped up inside rickety vehicles, and bearing the brunt of Argel’s silent anger, he was most irritable.
Over the past week or so, others had joined them on their journey and he’d spent yesterday crammed up against the side as he tried to give Pendenny and another fellow as much room as his large frame would allow. His long legs had also constantly bumped against Argel’s, lending him torture of a different nature.
She had looked far too comfortable sitting across from him with two other petite females—they actually appeared to be able to breathe—making Argel’s silence eat at his patience even more.
And then, last night, upon arriving at the inn, they had been informed that there were not enough rooms available. He told the proprietor that he and Argel were married—which was almost true—and that Pendenny was her brother—which might as well be true, the man was more than honorable—thus securing a room for the three of them.
He’d sensed her relief when he declared the bed was to be hers, he and his friend would sleep on the floor—still better than the stables. Thus, the reason for his aching back.
A wooden floor for a bed, Pendenny’s snoring from across the room, and soft sigh or two from Argel as she slept had ensured he barely slept a wink. But he must have dozed at some point, because he awoke to find both Pendenny and Argel gone—her bed neatly made, and…someone had lain a warm blanket over him, left a plate of food beside him.
Pendenny?
Or Argel?
It was useless to speculate and so he refused to dwell on it further. He would not foolishly hope for the impossible.
Damon was almost to the coach when he heard light footsteps behind him. He stopped and turned to see Argel approaching. His heart stuttered at the sight of her, longing and pain squeezing it tight. When she reached him, he wordlessly continued walking beside her.
“Good morning, Mr. Westmoreland.”
Damon nearly stumbled.
She…she spoke to him—the first time in days.
“Good morning, Argel,” he replied. “I trust you slept well?” The surprise in his voice was clear even to his own ears.
“Yes, thank you. Though I fear you did not.” She peeked up at him and gave him a smile—a small one, but a smile nonetheless.
He extended a hand to assist her out of habit, one he had known she would ignore, when she shocked him by placing her small hand in his. Instinctively, his fingers closed around hers and held steady until she was inside.
Perplexed by her abrupt change in attitude, Damon suddenly found that he now looked forward to the endless hours of travel, his legs again brushing Argel’s skirts. Perhaps she might even smile at him again. He was unable to stifle his own smile at the thought as he straightened his jacket, now eager for today’s journey to begin.
But his plans were ruined when he looked up to find Pendenny already seated directly across from her.
He mumbled a few unintelligible words as he realized he was now resigned to the middle seat, to be crammed between Pendenny and the other fellow.
As Damon climbed inside, he attempted to melt the spectacles off Pendenny’s face with his fiercest look, but movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him. He turned his head to find Argel had scooted to the far wall and…she had not spread her skirts in dismissal, but was gently patting the space beside her, indicating for him to sit.
His breath stilled at the import of the small gesture. She was offering him some sort of truce—though he knew he had a long way to go before he would completely win her over. He nodded in reverent acceptance and gently sat down beside her, quite close. He needed to leave enough room for another passenger beside him, after all.
Ignoring Pendenny’s quirked brow, Damon wondered what he could have possibly done to bring about this change of behavior. He wished he knew so he could do it again and again…
The remainder of the travelers quickly arrived and they soon began the day’s journey rumbling down the road. With each bump and jostle, Damon edged just a bit closer to Argel. Feeling her warmth beside him, their arms and legs brushing, he found this arrangement far superior to knees brushing skirts.
At some point, Damon dozed due to his lack of sleep coupled with the swaying of the coach. He jerked awake with a start and his mind worked to adjust to his surroundings. He blinked at Pendenny across from him who gave him a smirk, nodding to Damon’s left.
Confused, Damon looked down to find Argel, too, had fallen asleep. Her head lay against his arm below his shoulder and she had slipped her arm through his.
Was this really happening? Or was he dreaming? His heart began to race.
Not daring to move, he took the opportunity to study her, taking in her closed eyes with thick lashes dark against her skin. Light freckles were sprinkled across her nose and cheeks, her soft pink lips parted slightly with her even breathing.
“Lovely wife you have there,” the older man directly across from him whispered, a knowing smile on his face.
“Yes, she is,” Damon said proudly. His beautiful angel, his Argel—he wished, anyway. He wanted more than anything for her to truly be his—to give him her heart.
His own uncle�
�s voice came to him then, just as it had many times in his life. Damon, my boy, you may succeed in this life, but it will not come easy. You will have to work for everything you want, though I have given you every advantage I can. Perhaps the best advice I can leave you with now is this: find what you want and go after it. Be driven, relentless, your passion forbidding you to give up. Whatever it takes, find a way and you will have all you desire.
Whatever it takes.
Yes, he would do everything within his power to truly make Argel his. Remembering her words that night prior to her uncle’s return—I choose you—and her apparent softening towards him now gave him hope.
He would pursue her with all that he had. No matter that they would be married as soon as possible upon reaching his home, he would do everything he could to win her heart as well.
He would woo his wife.
His wife.
He had thought once before that he’d found love, but when that was ripped away from him, he had resolved never to succumb to such weakness again. Yet, from the moment he’d met Argel, he knew he would willingly surrender all to her.
He wished things had transpired differently, that she hadn’t been Black Jack’s niece, but he had done what was needed for her own safety—and his own selfishness—and here they were.
Reaching over, he rested a gloved hand over her own that lay on his arm and thought back to the night they’d kissed, his blood warming at the memory.
Yes, he’d do anything to have her feel that way about him again.
Chapter Six
Abingdon-on-Thames, England
Argel awoke with the sun, her heart a mixture of emotions. She glanced around at the guest room she had been assigned to at Burchwell Hall. The sun was beginning to shine through the windows, illuminating the space. It was a fine room with touches of pale blue and white. Comfortable and practical, a testament to wealth, yet not overly done—just like the rest of Damon’s home. She had to admit that she liked the house, what little she’d seen of it anyway. Upon first glimpsing the two-story brick structure with smooth columns standing tall to greet her, it had been an amiable-at-first-sight type of feeling—if not love.
