The Wild Child (Bride Trilogy)

by Mary Jo Putney

  Dominic rolled his eyes, knowing he’d get no more sense out of Kenneth for a while. But even though Meriel had made him look like an idiot in front of the other men, her gesture warmed him. She wanted them to be equal partners. Not a common arrangement, but very fair, and exactly what he would have chosen.

  Better yet, she had said in as many words that she trusted him. Someday, God willing, she would love him as well.

  Chapter 36

  Kyle felt a curious sense of unreality when he arrived back in London. Everything seemed exactly the same, almost as if he hadn’t left. Yet at the same time, he felt as if he had been away for years and changed beyond recognition.

  Shaking off his disorientation, he decided that the first order of business was to visit his brother’s rooms. They had agreed on several possible methods of establishing contact on Kyle’s return, depending on how matters went at Warfield. First and easiest would be if Dominic had fulfilled his mission and returned to London.

  If that was the case, Dominic had only to brief Kyle on the events of his visit, and Kyle would proceed from there. A swift wedding, he presumed, because Lady Meriel’s uncle Grahame would return from the Continent in another fortnight or so.

  If Dominic was still at Warfield, he should have sent a message to his man Clement. If the valet was still in the country, Kyle would have to travel to Shropshire and secretly communicate with his brother, or go to ground until Dominic returned to London. Certainly it would be impossible to change places at Warfield; even the least observant person would notice if Dominic turned into Kyle overnight. Some time must elapse to blur the differences between them.

  Kyle suspected that Dominic had become bored with life at Warfield and returned to London by now. If so, the deception was over, with no one the wiser.

  Impatient to finish the business, he traveled to Dominic’s lodgings. As he waited in the dim hallway, he was glad to hear footsteps responding to his knock on the door. At least one of the men was back in London.

  Clement opened the door. Arching his brows, the valet asked, “Did you forget something, sir? If you don’t hurry, you’ll be late for your own wedding.”

  Kyle froze as a premonition of disaster struck him. “What wedding?”

  Clement looked closer, and paled. “Good God, Lord Maxwell!”

  He tried to slam the door, but he was too late. Kyle forced his way into the flat, demanding, “Who is Dominic marrying?”

  Poker-faced, the valet backed slowly into the small drawing room. “I misspoke, my lord. I was not expecting to see you.”

  “That’s for damned sure!” He advanced on Clement, expression thunderous. “He’s marrying Lady Meriel Grahame, isn’t he? Isn’t he?”

  Despite Kyle’s premonition, the flicker of acknowledgment on Clement’s face was a numbing blow. How could Dominic have betrayed him so treacherously?

  Yet it made perfect sense—Dominic had always resented being the younger son, with no property and only limited income and status. Marrying the mad Lady Meriel would set him up in style for life. Instead of having to settle for a modest estate, he was now master of a fortune equal to the Wrexham inheritance. It was all so logical.

  And all Kyle’s fault, for being bloody fool enough to trust his brother. He spat out, “Where and when?”

  The valet shook his head, refusing to answer. The rage that had been building since Kyle had learned of Constancia’s fatal illness exploded. He slammed the slightly built Clement against the wall and locked his hands around his throat with bruising force. “Tell me, or by God, I’ll choke it out of you! Where is Dominic marrying her?”

  Clement gasped, “A-at Kimball House, but there’s no use trying to stop the ceremony.” His frightened gaze went to the mantel clock. “It will be over before you can get there. You’re too late.”

  Swearing, Kyle released the valet and headed for the door. It might be too late to stop the wedding, but there was still time to break his brother’s neck.

  Rebecca had been right—it was worth the extra effort to make the wedding special. Wearing a gown of ivory silk, with her incredible hair falling free under a fine veil and a chaplet of fresh flowers, Meriel was so beautiful that Dominic’s heart hurt. She entered the drawing room carrying a bouquet of roses and trailing ivy, her small feet bare and elegant and utterly enchanting.

  Decorated with massed flowers, the room had become a place of celebration. Rebecca and Kenneth were the attendants, with their children and Rebecca’s parents as the only guests, but it was enough. Meriel would not look back on her wedding day and feel that she had been deprived. Nor would Dominic.

  Suppressing the painful knowledge that he was about to drive the last nails into the coffin of his relationship with his brother, he took Meriel’s hand and turned to the vicar, who stood with his back to the windows. The vicar had a warm smile for them, and for the Gray Ghost, who watched with interest from the sofa. In a sonorous voice, he began, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God…”

  The stately, familiar words flowed over Dominic, bringing him a sense of peace. He and Meriel belonged together. When she said her vows in a soft, clear voice, it was hard to remember the wild girl who had fled his presence when they first met.

  Dominic’s mind went blank when the vicar asked for the ring. He’d purchased one the day before, hadn’t he? Where was it? Before panic could set in, Kenneth produced the ring, a twinkle in his eyes. Dominic was lucky to have him for a friend.

  He’d always assumed that if he married, his brother would be his best man….

  Suppressing the thought, he slid the ring on Meriel’s finger. She gave him a clear, green-eyed glance. His exquisite little pagan, enchanting and stubborn, mysterious and magical. He uttered a private prayer that he would always be worthy of her.

  The rest of the service was a haze, until the vicar said, “I pronounce that they be man and wife together,” and gave the final blessing.

  After Dominic kissed his bride, the guests crowded forward, laughing and offering congratulations. Dominic accepted them, giddy with happiness. Meriel was his, to love, honor, and protect. Together they could face whatever might come.

  He barely noticed a commotion in the hallway, until the doors flew open and Kyle burst into the drawing room, hair wild and expression dangerous. Only Dominic was looking in his direction, and for one endless, excruciating moment, Kyle’s raging gaze met Dominic’s. Then he stormed down the long room, shouting, “You bastard!”

  His curse cut through the laughter, and the startled guests spun around to stare at the interloper. Meriel inhaled sharply, looking from Kyle to Dominic and back again. The Kimballs and Seatons did the same. For anyone who had never seen them together, the resemblance was downright eerie.

  With a feeling of numb inevitability, Dominic gently set Meriel aside and advanced toward his twin. “This isn’t what you think.”

  Kyle’s answer was an incoherent growl, and a fist that smashed into his brother’s jaw. Dominic didn’t even try to avoid it. The impact spun him around, but he welcomed the blow. If only pain could wash away the crushing guilt.

  “Enough!” Broad and formidable, Kenneth Wilding was on Kyle before he could strike again. Twisting one arm behind Kyle’s back with a strength that immobilized the younger man, he ordered, “Give Dominic a chance to explain.”

  Kyle struggled to free himself, then gasped when Kenneth increased the pressure to the agonizing point just short of dislocating the shoulder. “What is there to explain?” he said bitterly, ignoring everyone except Dominic. “You’ve always despised me for the crime of being born first, and now you’ve got your revenge. Damn you!”

  The devastation in Kyle’s eyes paralyzed Dominic, reflecting back to combine with his own anguish. All he could do was say numbly, “I’m sorry, Kyle, but for Meriel’s sake, there was no other way.”

  “You bloody hypocrite!” Snarling obscenities, Kyle tried to break free again.

  Kenneth stopped that by
jerking the pinioned arm upward. “I don’t care how upset you are, I’ll have no such language in front of my wife and children! If you want to talk to your brother civilly, fine. If not, get out of my house.”

  A pulse throbbed in Kyle’s forehead, but he stopped fighting. “I never thought you’d stoop this low, Dominic,” he said in a shaking voice. “Christ! I’d been hoping that maybe we could be friends again, and all the while you were betraying me.” His mouth twisted. “So clever. Not only did you get the pleasure of seducing my betrothed wife, but in the process you got the money and power you’ve always wanted. And to think I was fool enough to trust you merely because you’re my brother.”

  “There was no malice in this, I swear.” Dominic halted, achingly aware that it would be useless to explain that he loved Meriel and had needed to move swiftly to protect her. Kyle was so enraged that all he could see was the fact of betrayal. Any reasons Dominic offered would seem like cowardly excuses.

  Taking a firm hold of Dominic’s arm, Meriel said sharply, “You much mistake the matter, Lord Maxwell. I would never have married you, so you have no right to blame Dominic for stealing your bride.”

  For the first time, Kyle looked at her. He blinked, startled, as if he didn’t quite recognize the woman he had intended to marry. Then he turned his furious gaze back to his brother. Meriel no longer mattered—it was Dominic who had committed the unforgivable crime. “I’m sorry, Kyle,” he whispered again.

  “It’s time you left, Lord Maxwell,” Rebecca said crisply. “I suggest that after you calm down, you discuss this matter with Dominic, but not before.”

  Kenneth released Kyle’s arm, then escorted him from the drawing room. Rigid to the breaking point, Kyle left without looking back.

  Dominic knew he should do something—anything—to break the frozen silence. This whole ghastly mess was his fault. But he was numbed by an unholy mixture of his own and his brother’s pain. Knowing that Kyle had wanted to try rebuilding their relationship added an extra dimension of torment.

  Meriel guided him to the nearest chair. As she pushed him into the seat, she ordered, “Leave us.”

  Silently the other guests obeyed. Even the cat left the room.

  When they were alone, Meriel embraced Dominic, cradling his head to her breasts. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly as she stroked the back of his neck. “I did not really understand how badly your brother would take news of our marriage.”

  Dominic wrapped his arms around her, shaking and chilled to the bone. “Kyle and I have been estranged for years, but there was always a basic trust. I have broken that, and he will never forgive me.” Kyle had never been very good at forgiveness—he’d left that to Dominic.

  “You broke faith with him to keep faith with me. That took a great and terrible courage.” She rested her cheek against his hair. “Thank you, my husband.”

  He closed his eyes, concentrating on her blessed warmth and his own breathing. In, out. In, out. This was worse than if Kyle had died, for death would be devastating but relatively simple. A mere matter of losing part of his soul. This savage rupture, a nightmare of anguish and betrayal, would permanently scar both Kyle and himself.

  Could he have done anything differently, perhaps hidden Meriel somewhere safe until after Kyle returned? His brother would still have been furious, but it would not have been as bad as learning about the marriage in such a shattering way.

  The sickening image of Meriel tied to the chair at Bladenham flashed through Dominic’s mind. He could not have risked that happening again. The danger from Grahame had been very real. Her uncle had been a soldier. If he’d run them down with a magistrate at his back and a dueling pistol in his hand, it might have ended with Dominic dead and Meriel locked in some hellish asylum, dying by inches.

  Bleakly he accepted that he could not have risked acting differently, not when Meriel’s safety and sanity were at stake. He’d made his choice, and now he must live with the consequences. At least, thank God, Meriel trusted him enough to know that he hadn’t acted from the base motives Kyle had accused him of.

  Life went on. Eventually, this pain would diminish to a bearable level. It would be harder for Kyle, who didn’t have a Meriel, and who had so recently suffered some other great grief. That knowledge was another slash of the blade that had already left Dominic’s heart bleeding.

  But he could not sit here clinging to Meriel like a terrified child forever. He released his grip and looked up at her. She was regarding him gravely, the window behind her transforming her flaxen hair and white veil into a nimbus of light. She looked like an angel, though he knew her well enough to see the steel beneath the silk.

  Delicately she skimmed his cheek with butterfly fingertips. “I used to dream that I had a twin sister,” she said softly. “A sister soul who would be my best friend, who would always love and understand me. I never thought of the dark side of being twin-born—the ability to devastate each other.”

  He sighed. “You and I shall have to be each other’s best friends, my love.”

  Seeing that he had regained his control, she smiled and gave him a light, sweet kiss. “Aren’t we now?”

  He managed to smile back. “You are worth any price, Meriel.”

  “I’m glad you realize that,” she said demurely. “Now, my husband, we will partake of the wedding breakfast with our good friends, so they will forget the unpleasantness and remember only the joy. Then we shall return home to Warfield.”

  He got to his feet and pulled her into a hug. “I like it when you’re imperious.”

  “Then in the future you should be a very happy man.”

  Despite his mood, he had to laugh. Arm around his bride, he headed from the drawing room. Perhaps someday, God willing, Kyle would listen to reason, though Dominic wasn’t counting on it. Even if that never happened, at least he had Meriel.

  Kyle didn’t know how long he walked blindly around London, unaware of his surroundings as his pulse hammered betrayed, betrayed, betrayed. And by Dominic, whom he had never imagined could be his enemy.

  His mind finally cleared on Westminster Bridge when he leaned on the parapet and stared down at the rushing waters of the Thames. In a distant part of his mind, he realized that he was actually thinking about jumping.

  His hands tightened on the stone at the horrifying awareness that he had fallen so low. Think how satisfied Dominic would be—with Kyle dead, he would be the next Earl of Wrexham, and one of the richest men in England.

  Kyle turned grimly from the river. He’d be damned if he’d let Dominic have Wrexham. Besides, with his luck, he’d probably be pulled ignominiously from the water by one of the busy Thames riverboats.

  The emptiness that filled him since Constancia’s death had expanded to a whole new dimension. What would he do with his life now that he no longer had Lady Meriel Grahame to anchor him to the world?

  Certainly he must find another bride and get several sons on her so that Dominic would never inherit Wrexham. But courtship would have to wait. It had been possible to imagine a shadow marriage with a witless girl, but the thought of putting a real wife in Constancia’s place was unendurable.

  He could summon only one frail goal: to return to Dornleigh. It was the least welcoming great house in England, but it was home. Vaguely he remembered that his father and sister had intended to visit Lucia’s future in-laws, so with luck he’d have the place to himself, bar a hundred or so servants.

  Dornleigh. Odd how the desire to go home survived when all else was gone. He gave thanks for that, for otherwise he would have nothing.

  Chapter 37

  “Welcome home!” Jena Ames came out to meet the carriage, greeting Meriel with a hug. “I presume you’re now Lady Meriel Renbourne?”

  Meriel blinked. She hadn’t thought about her new name. “So I am.”

  Dominic smiled at her with a warmth that sent tingles through interesting places. The return to Shropshire had been more relaxed than the journey to London. She hadn’t realized
how much mischief one could get into inside a carriage….

  “Meriel managed London very well,” Dominic said. “I believe I even heard her say, when we were a safe distance from the city, that she might like to visit again.”

  “But not soon,” Meriel said austerely. Though she still had her doubts about cities, she had enjoyed Rebecca and Kenneth and their children. She had even come to appreciate the sense of excitement that was as much a part of London as the soot. The next visit to the metropolis would be easier.

  Laughing, they entered Holliwell Grange. By the time Jena had ordered a tea tray, the general had appeared from the stables. “So the deed is done,” he said jovially. After shaking Dominic’s hand, he kissed the bride, smelling not unpleasantly of horse.

  Conversation was casual until they’d had tea and currant cakes. Then Jena purposefully set her cup aside. “Lord Grahame raced up to Gretna Green trying to find you, Meriel. Since he failed, he’s waiting at Warfield for you two to return.”

  Meriel nodded. Her uncle would know that she wouldn’t stay away from Warfield for long.

  “Thank you for the information,” Dominic said soberly. “I’ve wondered what he has been doing.”

  Jena dropped her gaze, her cheeks coloring. “Kamal has kept us informed.”

  Apparently matters were progressing between Jena and Kamal. Meriel asked, “The ladies are well?”

  “Yes, and much relieved after Kamal told them you’d gone off to marry.” Jena glanced at Dominic. “They approve of you.”

  Meriel saw the faint tightening of her husband’s face. He had not referred to the disastrous scene his brother had made at the wedding, but she felt the ache inside him. She wondered if he would ever forgive himself for doing what had to be done.