As Thea and Giles approached the study door, she motioned for the footman to be silent and then dismissed him. She pedaled herself the two or three lengths left to put her ear to the study door.
“I’m sorry this happened,” came her father’s voice.
Thea rolled his eyes. How sorry was he? The man had left her here, knowing full well a scandal would ensue if anyone were to tell, and someone obviously had.
“No, I am the one who owes you an apology, my lord,” came Ewan’s reply. “It would seem someone in my staff provided the information to the papers.”
“You cannot know that for certain, Clayton,” came Father’s reply. “Two of my servants are aware of Thea’s being here. It may well have been one of them.”
Thea narrowed her eyes. How dare Father accuse Maggie of spreading the rumor. Thea doubted it was Giles either. The obvious culprit was loose-lipped Rosalie, though Thea supposed they would never be able to prove it.
“At this point it no longer matters who told. The damage has been done,” came Ewan’s voice next. There was a long pause before he continued. “I suppose we’d both agree there is only one way to handle this situation.”
Thea held her breath. His voice sounded decidedly resigned.
“I know what you have in mind, Clayton,” Father replied. “And I quite agree.”
What? What did he have in mind? Thea’s heart was pounding so rapidly in her ears she had to strain to hear.
“I’ll summon my solicitor,” Ewan said sharply. “We’ll draw up a marriage contract.”
“If it’s any consolation, Clayton, she has a large and apt dowry,” Father replied.
Heat and cold suffused Thea’s body simultaneously. She was melting. She was freezing. The walls of the corridor were closing around her. No. This couldn’t be happening. This could not be happening. She braced a hand on the wall next to the door to steady herself. She was going to be ill.
“I’m not worried about a dowry,” came Ewan’s reply. “I’m much more worried about how I shall explain this to my fiancée.”
Fiancée? Fiancée! What? Thea had had no idea that Ewan had a fiancée! No, no. This couldn’t be happening. It wouldn’t be happening! Not if she had any say in the matter. And she would have a say in the matter. There was no possible way she was going to marry a man who didn’t want her. Who was marrying her out of a sense of obligation over a mistake that she’d caused in the first place. She would not be a burden to Ewan the rest of her life.
If it’s any consolation, Clayton… Her father’s words echoed through her brain in a maddening loop. But worse, worse, were Ewan’s words in reply. I’m much more worried about how I shall explain this to my fiancée. The man had kissed her, yet he had a fiancée. He was a rogue. A scoundrel. A cheat at the very least.
Thea didn’t remember how she made it back to the staircase and managed to call for the footmen again. But once she was back in her bedchamber, she quickly shut the door behind her and wheeled around to face Maggie.
“Pack my trunk immediately, please,” she said, barely able to breathe. “We’re going home with Father.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ewan was barely paying attention to the details of the contract that was being drawn up. He’d summoned his solicitor immediately after he and Lord Blackstone had decided that a marriage had to take place. The solicitor was currently ensconced in Ewan’s study, composing the marriage contract between Ewan and Thea.
It was quite unlike Ewan to disregard the details. Normally, he paid attention to every word of such a document. A marriage contract was something he’d be tied to for the rest of his life. There were huge implications to this document, but he couldn’t summon the will to care about the details. All he could think about was how much his life had changed in the few short weeks since meeting Lady Theodora Ballard.
Only a matter of days ago, he’d been leading a perfectly ordered life. One in which he knew precisely what he’d be doing from each day to the next because he’d bloody well planned it. But ever since Thea had arrived on his doorstep, there had been one catastrophe after another ending in a marriage contract being drawn. How in the world had this happened?
The solicitor continued asking a series of questions and Ewan answered with monosyllabic replies as he envisioned himself informing Lord Malcolm, Lydia’s father, that there would no longer be an understanding between himself and his daughter. Lord Malcolm wouldn’t be pleased, but he would be reasonable. Ewan had assumed for so long that he’d marry Lydia, he couldn’t wrap his mind around the thought that that would no longer be true. He’d had no intention of getting married anytime soon, of course, and perhaps that said something about his eagerness to marry Lydia, or lack thereof, to be more precise.
But when he thought of marrying Thea, he found himself … looking forward to it. Certainly looking forward to the wedding night. It was surprising, to say the least, but there it was, a sense of … anticipation in his belly.
Marriages in their set were based on sound principles such as two families uniting to form a more powerful one. That’s why he’d wanted to marry Lydia. He hadn’t thought much past it other than that. Lydia seemed an agreeable enough girl. She was born and bred in a decent household. She should make a fine wife. That was all there was to it. Now, he was faced with the prospect of marrying for an altogether different reason … to prevent a scandal. And while marrying for politics might not be the best reason to marry, marrying to prevent a scandal certainly had to be among the worst.
Ewan stared out the window of his study, not even seeing the meadow beyond. He may not have asked for any of this, may not have expected it, but he had to do the honorable thing and marry Thea. He had no choice. It was the only action that would save her reputation now that the gossip rags had got ahold of the news that she’d been living under his roof. Even properly chaperoned. It didn’t matter. The sordid implication was there in black and white for the entire ton to read.
As the solicitor called out item after item that needed to be decided upon, Ewan heard himself agreeing to whatever Lord Blackstone wanted. The dowry was substantial. He had no objections. Thea would be allowed to retain control over money left to her from her mother. He had no objections. Thea would use a portion of her dowry for a trousseau. Standard fare.
“There are certain things you should know that Thea will insist upon,” Lord Blackstone announced.
Ewan arched a brow. “Such as?”
“She’ll want to ride whenever she chooses,” Blackstone replied.
Ewan’s snort of laughter filled the room. “I’d like to see anyone try to keep her from it.”
Blackstone arched a brow. “I’m afraid you’re going to have your hands full, Clayton.”
Ewan eyed the older man carefully. If Thea had been his daughter, instead of acting as if she’d be a burden to the man she was to marry, he’d be doing whatever he could to tout her virtues. The young woman Ewan had come to know over the last few weeks was witty, wise, and beautiful. She knew precisely what she wanted, and she brooked no foolishness. She was a daughter Blackstone should be proud of. Ewan shook his head. Blackstone didn’t deserve his daughter. Ewan wasn’t certain he deserved her either.
Over an hour later, the contract had been completed. The solicitor pushed the document in front of Ewan and handed him a quill. Ewan stared at the paper and then glanced up at Blackstone. “I think we should ask Thea before we sign it. Just to ensure she’s amenable to the plan.”
Blackstone narrowed his eyes, confusion obvious in their depths. “Ask Theodora?”
Ewan had to bite the inside of his cheek to refrain from pointing out to the man that his daughter preferred to be called Thea.
“Yes, what if she objects?” Ewan asked.
“She doesn’t have a choice,” Blackstone replied curtly.
Ewan arched a brow. “Is that how you see it?”
The earl wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Leave it to me to inform Theodora.”
Ch
apter Thirty
“We’ve come to a decision,” Father pronounced as he strode through Thea’s bedchamber door at Clayton’s house.
Thea was imminently prepared for such a pronouncement. “So have I. I’m going home with you immediately.” She motioned to the packed trunks, her large one and Maggie’s small one that sat next to the door.
Father narrowed his eyes. “You must listen to me, Theodora. We’ve made the best decision for your future.”
Thea sat up straight and raised her voice. “Let me make myself clear. I am not staying here. Whatever plans you’ve made for me you can explain to me at home. I refuse to remain here as the subject of gossip from some unknown monger. I don’t care if my leg falls off.”
Her father clenched his jaw and anger flashed in his gray eyes. “Very well, I’ll take you home. But we shall discuss your future on the way.”
Thea didn’t care. She’d won the first battle, which was to get out of Lord Clayton’s house immediately. Given the fact that she had no idea who was spreading the gossip about her, that was the first and most important thing to do. She had no intention of marrying Clayton and staying here a moment longer would only serve to make that decision more difficult to justify. Now that the news had hit the papers, no doubt the neighbors would all come to see for themselves. For all she knew, there were already some on the way.
Not an hour later, Thea, Maggie, and all of their accoutrements were loaded into Lord Blackstone’s coach. Giles and James had put the wheelchair inside of a wagon that would travel back separately.
Thea had even managed to convince her father that they shouldn’t be seen in the foyer taking leave of their host. Instead, she promised to write Clayton a thank you letter when she was settled back at home. For now, she sent her thanks to the viscount by way of her father, who returned to the study to let Clayton know that he’d be taking his daughter home immediately.
Inside the coach, they did their best to accommodate Thea’s leg, propping it on a set of pillows and blankets. But as the conveyance traveled along the rutted country roads, the occasional bump was upsetting enough to cause Thea to cry out in pain. She gritted her teeth and tried to keep in any grunts or groans, but every once in a while, she couldn’t help herself.
Several times her father tried to broach the subject of the ridiculous engagement. At some point, Thea realized that playing up the pain in her leg kept her father from attempting to discuss it.
Meanwhile, Maggie sat tensely at Thea’s side, concentrating on her needlework and wincing every time Thea cried out.
“Theodora, we must discuss your future,” Father finally demanded when they were less than a quarter hour from Blackstone Hall. “Lord Clayton and I have—”
“Gah!” Thea cried before putting the back of her hand to her forehead for maximum dramatic effect. “My leg is throbbing and I’m exhausted. Can we not speak of it tomorrow after I’ve had a chance to rest, Father?”
“We must have a care for your reputation,” Father snapped back.
Thea clenched her jaw. “Yes, we should have had that care when you forced me to remain at Lord Clayton’s house after my accident.”
That was enough to silence her father for the remainder of the ride home. Thank heavens. Thea stared out the window. The day was gray and cold, just like her thoughts. She watched as the coach passed the leafless trees, their black branches outlined against the chilly gray skies as thoughts of her time with Clayton flashed through her mind.
She did regret not having a chance to say good-bye to Phillip. He was such a nice man. Sweet and kind and thoughtful. Nowhere near as maddening as Clayton had been when she first met him. She would write Phillip to say good-bye. She would encourage him to keep riding Alabaster.
Alabaster. Would she ever be able to see the horse again? If she were to visit, the gossip might make its way to the papers. Blast. She closed her eyes. She would have to worry about that later. She was far too exhausted to worry about it at the moment.
But Thea couldn’t sleep. The pain from the ride bouncing her broken leg had her clenching her jaw, and if that wasn’t uncomfortable enough, each time she tried to rest, one horrible, confusing, surprising thought kept torturing her: Clayton had a fiancée.
A fiancée. The man had been betrothed the entire time she’d been at his home and he’d never mentioned it. What sort of a scoundrel was he? He’d kissed her for heaven’s sake. He was the worst kind of cad.
He was exactly who her mother had warned her against.
Thea tried to picture Clayton’s betrothed. He hadn’t mentioned a name. Had she ever met the young lady? Was she Thea’s age? No doubt she was younger. She might even be a debutante. Eighteen years old. Had she just made her debut last spring? Did she have long straight blond hair and sparkling blue eyes like many of the most popular debutantes did? Did she do things like play the pianoforte and sing like a lark? No doubt she wasn’t ill-tempered and stubborn like Thea was. No doubt she wasn’t the type of young lady who would dress as a lad and sneak into Clayton’s stables in the middle of the night. And she probably wasn’t the type who would break her leg while doing it.
Oh, what did it matter? Thea would not—would not—marry Lord Clayton. They couldn’t force her to do it. They wouldn’t dare. Which meant soon, Clayton would be free to marry the young lady of his choosing. She of the long blond hair and larklike voice. Thea wouldn’t spend another moment wondering about her identity. It was nothing but a waste of time. She had much more important things to think about, like how in the world would she convince her father that she would not, under any circumstances, agree to marry Lord Clayton. It was certain to be the biggest row they’d ever had, but she was prepared to win at all costs.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ewan watched from the shadow of the stable wall as Alabaster jumped the low fence with Phillip upon his back. Forrester had been working with Phillip and Alabaster every afternoon for days now. According to Forrester, Phillip was improving at a record pace.
Phillip smiled and waved at Ewan. Ewan returned the gesture. It was amazing, the progress Phillip had made in the days since Ewan had introduced him to Thea. And there was no doubting it was Thea’s influence that had helped his friend so much. She’d spent hours speaking to him quietly. They’d discussed Alabaster a great deal. Thea had told him stories about the horse’s foal-hood. Ewan had heard Phillip chuckling and replying with stories of his own.
There was no denying it. In the few weeks Thea had been there, Phillip had made more progress than in all the months Ewan had been desperately trying to help him. It was nothing short of an amazing transformation.
Thea. Where was she right now? Ewan leaned back against the stable wall, closed his eyes, and expelled his breath. All he knew was that she was no longer at Clayton Manor. He should have signed the contract. If he had, there would be little Thea could do to refuse the marriage. But Ewan didn’t want her to come to him as a wife by force. Thea was beyond stubborn. If she set her mind against the marriage, even though it was obviously the only reasonable thing to do, she would never agree to it.
Asking her first was the right thing to do, of course. Ewan had even planned to drop to one knee and do the thing properly, but Blackstone had informed him that Thea was concerned with additional gossip and wanted to go home immediately. Apparently, she didn’t care about the damage that could be done to her leg. She hadn’t even given Ewan a chance to say good-bye. Those things already boded ill. Add to that the fact that she and her father were always at sixes and sevens and Ewan held little hope that she would readily agree to a marriage.
Ewan intended to pay Thea a visit after she had a chance to recover from her no doubt painful journey home. He hoped her leg hadn’t been too affected by the ride. He wanted to see her, he realized. To talk to her again.
Ewan pushed himself away from the stable wall and began walking back toward the house, leaving Forrester with Phillip. Ewan needed to prepare himself and his household for a viscountess.
It was something he hadn’t planned on so soon in life, but it was happening just the same. Though admittedly with a different bride than the one he’d originally expected.
Lord Blackstone wasn’t particularly well-connected politically and a marriage with Thea clearly wouldn’t be as advantageous for Ewan’s career as it would have been if he’d married Lady Lydia. But Ewan had no regrets. There was little chance he’d ever become bored with Thea as his wife, she loved horses as much or more than he did and kissing her made his blood sing. She was also quite special. He’d learned that about her in their weeks together. Lady Theodora Ballard was one of a kind.
Ewan could only hope her father didn’t bungle the announcement so profoundly that she set her cap against marrying him entirely. Because once that happened, there was little chance she’d ever change her mind.
Chapter Thirty-Two
A slight knock on her bedchamber door made Thea cringe. It was her father. They’d been home for over a day now and she’d exhausted her pleas of being tired and in pain to keep her father away. Very well. She’d put off the conversation long enough. The time had come. She sucked in a deep breath, pushed herself up on the pillows, and straightened her shoulders. She had to be prepared. “Come in,” she finally called, folding her hands in front of her.
The door opened and her father strode inside and bowed to her. “I trust you’re feeling better this morning.”
“Less tired at least,” she allowed, inclining her head to the side.
Her father grabbed his lapels and cleared his throat. “We must speak about your future, Theodora.”
Save a Horse, Ride a Viscount Page 14
