Rules of Engagement

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  People were turning to watch them, now. It was unfortunate, for as Ferdinand recovered from the blow, his gaze darted about the station. To a man like him, having anyone witness him take a blow from a woman was humiliating.

  Eleanore caught her breath, realizing she had made things worse. Ferdinand had been mildly amused by her until now.

  Ferdinand’s face worked with anger. He put his hand over the injured eye and glared at her with the other. He raised his arm high and slapped her face. Eleanore sagged in Ivan’s grip, gasping.

  “You must be the Prince of Temeswar I’ve heard so much about,” came a deep voice.

  Cian.

  Ferdinand looked up, over Eleanore’s shoulder. His mouth dropped open. Cian surged past Eleanore in one long stride. His punch landed heavily. The second punch to Ferdinand’s belly bent him double. His cane clattered to the platform. He groaned sickly and clutched his belly.

  Cian gripped the back of his jacket, lifting Ferdinand’s head. He bent down to speak to him. “If you ever wish to speak to Lady Eleanore again, you speak to me first.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Ferdinand said. His voice was bodiless, his breath gusting.

  “Innesford,” Cian said flatly. “And by the end of this day, I will be Eleanore’s husband.”

  His fist, this time, slammed into Ferdinand temple. The man dropped like a bag of potatoes and laid still.

  That just left Ivan. Eleanore blinked her watering eye, spun on her toes, gripped Ivan’s jacket for balance and drove her knee up into the junction of his thighs. She felt soft tissue against her knee.

  Ivan folded as Ferdinand had, his breath pushed out of him like bellows. He dropped to the platform, too, his fingers falling away from her arm.

  Before she could find her feet once more, Cian gathered her up in his arms and held her. He was trembling as much as she was. Eleanore clung to him, laughing a little hysterically.

  The stationmaster wandered over and tugged on his cap and nodded at Cian. He looked down at the two men at their feet. “Were these two men bothering you, Lord Innesford?”

  “They were trying to abscond with my wife-to-be.”

  Eleanore sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.

  The stationmaster blew out his breath. “Well, that’s a rum to-do. What am I to do with them? I can’t have them cluttering up the platform this way. The train is about to leave.”

  “You could call upon a local Bobby to come and arrest them,” Cian suggested.

  The stationmaster glanced at Eleanore. His gaze took in her face and her wounded eye. He nodded. “A sensible suggestion, my Lord.” He glanced at the train. “Did you just arrive? Or are you heading back to Innesford?”

  “I’m taking Lady Eleanore to Marblethorpe for the rest of Christmas,” Cian said. He looked at the train himself. “That’s the two o’clock train?”

  “It is indeed,” the stationmaster said. “You’d best hurry aboard, my Lord,” he said. “The train will be leaving right smart.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And please give my wishes for the best of the Christmas season to Lady Annalies,” the stationmaster added.

  Cian shifted his arms around Eleanore. “Can you walk?”

  Eleanore nodded. “If it means I will get away from him,” and she glanced at Ferdinand, who was still motionless, “then I could walk across hot coals.”

  She let Cian guide her toward the train, which was chuffing steadily as the head of steam built in preparation for it to leave. He opened the compartment for her and settled her on the seat inside then went back to gather her valise where it had been abandoned on the platform. He put the valise on the luggage rack overhead, shut the door and sat beside her. He picked up her hand.

  They sat in silence until the train was just out of the station. Then Cian stirred. “I believe this train will have us at Marblethorpe for afternoon tea.” He touched her knuckles, which were bruised.

  “Where did you come from?” Eleanore burst out. It was pressing upon her. “I thought you were in Marblethorpe and would be throughout Christmas.”

  “I was,” Cian said. “Then I got your letter.”

  “And you came on Christmas Day?”

  Cian raised his brow. “Is there a day which would have been more suitable for you? I got the impression speed was desirable. I came straightaway. I caught the ten o’clock train this morning.”

  “You mean, you arrived at the station, just now?”

  “Just in time to see you land your punch,” he said. The corner of his mouth twitched.

  Eleanore gripped his hands. “He was going to take me to Europe and force me to marry him.”

  Cian’s expression sobered. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “No! Not even James wanted it anymore. That was what I wanted to talk to you about.” She hesitated, as the thought struck her. “You didn’t know. How could you? So why did you tell Ferdinand I would be your wife before the end of the day, if you didn’t know?”

  Cian lifted her hand, spread her fingers and slid his between hers. He concentrated on her hand as he answered. “No, I wasn’t aware of James’ change of heart. I don’t care. When I got your letter, I decided I would resolve the matter, one way or the other, when I saw you. I stepped off the train and watched you defy Ferdinand and knew you would not marry him despite everything you have said all these years about maintaining the family honor. You could no more bring yourself to it, than I can stand the idea of it.”

  He kissed her hand, his lips brushing over her sore knuckles. His gaze met hers. “You will, won’t you?”

  “Marry you?” Eleanore laughed. It was a shaky sound. “I was coming to Marblethorpe to ask you if you would marry me.” She hesitated. “I realize it’s unconventional for a woman to ask a man. In fact, I’ve never heard of anyone doing it. Only I couldn’t wait anymore and I didn’t think you deserved to wait, either. You have waited for me for years. So I was coming to Marblethorpe to ask.”

  Cian kissed her, right there in the compartment where anyone walking by could see them. Eleanore didn’t care. Her happiness lifted even further. When he let her go at last, she said, “I presume that means you are saying yes to my proposal?”

  Cian dug in his pocket. He held up his hand. Between his fingers was a diamond and emerald ring, an elegant thing with antique gold clasps.

  She caught her breath. “Oh, it’s beautiful!”

  Cian studied the ring, turning in his fingers. “My mother thrust it into my hand as I left this morning. I didn’t tell her. I didn’t say a word to anyone about what I planned. Yet she gave this to me. It has been in the family for generations.”

  Eleanore stared at the rain, her heart thudding. “Is it, perhaps, the ring which Marcus Williams gave to Mary Devlin, when he stole her away from my father?”

  Cian’s eyes opened wide. His lips parted in surprise. Then he frowned. “That is the reason for the animosity your father felt toward us?”

  Eleanore nodded. “That is why I wanted to see you. It wasn’t a matter of honor at all.”

  “It was a matter of a broken heart,” Cian finished. He lifted her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. He touched it. “I can’t think of a better place for it, now.” Then he wiped her cheeks and kissed her again.

  Eleanore let her hand rest against his chest, assuring herself that yes, he really was here, now. “We’ve never said it aloud.”

  “I wouldn’t let you say it. I didn’t think my heart could stand it, knowing I couldn’t keep you.”

  She met his gaze. “I love you so very much, Cian. I always have. Even when I thought I had forgotten who you are, you were the one person in my life who felt right, who felt as though he should be there. You are the one who kept me afloat, who made me keep fighting to stay on top of the waves when I was so tired and wanted to give up. I wanted to see you again. Even though it was useless and I could never be yours, I still wanted to see you again.”

  Cian cupped her cheek and his th
umb stroked her cheek bones just under the eye which Ferdinand had hit. “I went a little mad when I thought you had died. There has never been anyone else and there never will be. I had decided that if I could not have you, I would go on alone. I do love you.” He shook his head. “That is such a paltry phrase. It does not come within a thousand miles of adequately expressing what you really mean to me. I don’t know what words would. I don’t think they exist. I will just have to spend the rest of my life demonstrating as well as I can.”

  He bought his arm around her and tucked her up close against him, so she could hear his heartbeat against her ear. It was a scandalous position for a public compartment. Neither of them cared.

  After a while, a thought occurred to her. Eleanore lifted her head. “Ferdinand said something strange to me in the carriage. He said he would have married me a long time ago except James and a friend of his had interfered. What did he mean by that?”

  Cian’s gaze cut away from her.

  “Ferdinand was talking about you, wasn’t he?”

  Cian nodded. “James came to see me after you returned from the dead. He was worried about you. You seem to grow wilder with every passing day. Parties, drinking, gambling. He didn’t know what to do with you.” His gaze met hers. “I understood exactly what you were doing. You had landed back in a life which held little meaning for you even before you left. Now you were trying to find a life which did have meaning. I explained it to James and he understood, too. The only problem was, Ferdinand would not wait for you forever. He would not understand or give you time to adjust to your future. He was a landless Prince and anxious to establish the family once more. A man like him is open to influence.”

  “You paid him to stay away,” Eleanore breathed.

  “James and I paid him. The Prince has large appetites and James could not have borne the full impact of his excesses, so I helped. It was for you, so I didn’t mind at all.”

  “Only, with James dying, the arrangement would not have held anymore. So when Coleman approached the Prince and suggested the engagement go ahead, he was eager.” Eleanore grimaced. “Now it all makes sense.”

  Cian sighed. He looked down at his hand. “I will miss James,” he said. “We got to know each other quite well over the years.”

  “James said I should marry you. Right at the end, when he knew he was dying. He said I was already a Williams, so I should marry you.”

  Cian drew in a deep breath. “I’m glad you told me that. It makes a difference, knowing it is what he wanted, in the end.”

  “I think he always wanted it,” Eleanore said. “It was just the silly nonsense about the Gainford honor which prevented James from admitting it. My father made James believe our honor had been irrevocably stained by the actions of the Williams family.”

  Cian picked up her hand once more and stroked the back of it above the emerald and diamond ring. “When the train stops at the next station, I can send a wire to Raymond and have him arrange to have the priest at the house when we get there. Would you like a Christmas wedding, Eleanore?”

  She drew in a breath, happiness making her warm and peace settling in her heart and soul. “I would love a Christmas wedding,” she said softly. “Only…”

  Cian raised his brow. “Only?”

  “We have stayed in hiding and been discrete for years and years. I’m so happy to marry you, Cian, that I want the entire world to see I have chosen you. If you can wait, then may we have the biggest wedding we can manage? A huge wedding. One which would put all those European royal families to shame. One which is a three-day celebration, so the entire world knows I’m married to you and pleased to be so. Do you think… Can you wait just a little longer, so we can show the world we love each other?”

  And she held her breath, because she knew how Cian hated public displays of affection and fusses which focused on him.

  Cian smiled. “Yes,” he said. “The very biggest wedding this family has ever seen—or yours.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Westminster Abbey, London. May 1872.

  By legal sleight-of-hand which Stephen refused to reveal, he convinced the City of London and the Queen to allow Cian and Eleanor to marry at Westminster Abbey. It was just as well, for the huge guest list could not be housed within the walls of St. Paul’s cathedral.

  The enormous Gainford carriage, bedecked with garlands of white roses on all sides, pulled up in front of the Abbey and Eleanor looked out upon the hundreds of people who gathered at the doors to watch the bride arrive.

  She clutched her bouquet and realized her hands were damp. “I have confronted angry drunks with more calmness than I feel right now,” she told Raymond.

  “I suspect it is because you only had a few thousand pounds at risk upon the gambling table when you faced them,” Raymond said. “This time, however…”

  Eleanore sighed. “I have so much more at stake this time,” she said in agreement.

  Raymond edged past the lace of her dress and pushed open the door, then held out his hand to help her down. Everyone gathered on the steps in front of the Abbey murmured and oooh’d and ah’d as she stepped down.

  Raymond bent and kissed her cheek, then pulled her veil over her face. “If you had really wished for someone to escort you down the aisle, I would have been pleased to do so. It is little enough for the happiness you will bring Cian, which you have brought him already.” He stepped back.

  “I must do this myself,” she said. “I must show the world this is my choice, that no one escorts me to ensure I arrive at the altar. I, a Neville, have chosen to marry a Williams. It is why we waited for this huge day, Raymond. As much as Cian hates the fuss, it is what he wants to show the world, too.”

  Raymond nodded. “I will see you after, when you are officially a Williams. I will take immense pride in being the first to welcome you into the family.” He hurried inside.

  Eleanore moved up the white step and into the Abbey as the organ played. Everyone stood waiting for her and she hesitated for a moment on the very brink, only now understanding the scale of the arrangements Cian had put in place.

  Then her gaze moved ahead, passed everyone who waited in the pews to where, at the far end of the long aisle, Cian stood waiting for her.

  For a moment, she remembered the evening at the opera, when she first saw Cian staring at her from the stalls below—how her heart had moved and how regret touched her at the same time, because she knew he could never be hers.

  So many years had passed, yet he had waited for her through even death itself.

  Eleanore moved down the aisle and put her hand in his. As they turned to face the bishop, Cian’s fingers tightened about hers. “You were worth the wait,” he whispered, as if he’d heard her thoughts.

  ____________________________

  The next book in the Scandalous Scions series.

  Degree of Solitude

  Book 9.0

  The man she once loved is now a monster she doesn’t know.

  Catrin and Daniel love each other, but Daniel refused to further their relationship for fear of curtailing Catrin’s intellectual and personal freedom, and dooming her to a life of domestic servitude as his wife. Yet their lives remain entangled.

  When Daniel is shot in the face during a family rescue in Algeria, he brutally severs the ties between them and removes himself to a remote village in Pembrokeshire, Wales.

  Catrin travels to Wales in a last bid to resolve their differences, but the terrifying man she finds there is not the Daniel she once knew…

  I don't often give books five stars, but I really enjoyed the mystery that puzzled all of the characters in this story. --Reader review

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  About the Author

  Tracy Cooper-Posey is a #1 Best Selling Author. She writes romantic suspense, historical, paranormal and science fiction romance. She has published over 100 novels since 1999, been nominated for five CAPAs including Favourite Author, and won the Emma Darcy Award.

  She turned to indie publishing in 2011. Her indie titles have been nominated four times for Book Of The Year. Tracy won the award in 2012, and a SFR Galaxy Award in 2016 for “Most Intriguing Philosophical/Social Science Questions in Galaxybuilding” She has been a national magazine editor and for a decade she taught romance writing at MacEwan University.

  She is addicted to Irish Breakfast tea and chocolate, sometimes taken together. In her spare time she enjoys history, Sherlock Holmes, science fiction and ignoring her treadmill. An Australian Canadian, she lives in Edmonton, Canada with her husband, a former professional wrestler, where she moved in 1996 after meeting him on-line.

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  Scandalous Scions