Lord Thomas and his bride (The Duke's Brothers Book 3)

by Fiona Miers

  The only option Thomas found credible was to request to marry her, courting her beforehand, of course. He was aware that he had not discussed it with Rebecca, but there had been no time. It had been a very spontaneous decision on Thomas’ part, and it had obviously taken Rebecca by surprise. Not in a good way.

  He had expected her to be disturbed, but not as much as she had been. He had felt the need to follow her to her chambers, but Dr. Morton was eager to discuss things in detail with him. Thomas certainly did not wish to disrespect her father, although he feared he may only upset Rebecca further.

  “Thomas, I may have underestimated your maturity,” Dr. Morton said as they stepped into the hallway.

  “Thank you, Dr. Morton. Your words are appreciated more than you will ever know,” Thomas said and shook Rebecca’s father’s hand. “May I ask one thing?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Would it be all right if I say good night to Rebecca? I do not wish to leave without doing so.”

  “Of course,” Dr. Morton said and called down the hallway for Connie.

  The young maidservant that Thomas recognised from the cliff stepped into the hallway.

  “Connie, would you be so kind as to fetch Rebecca? She is in her bedchambers,” Dr. Morton said.

  “I’m sorry, sir. But I was in Miss Rebecca’s bedchambers a short while ago and she is not there.”

  “Please check the rest of the townhouse and tell her to come to the hallway at once.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  The maid hurried off and Thomas pursed his lips. Perhaps she’d hidden herself between the pages of a book and had lost touch with the world, not hearing her maid calling her. Or perhaps she was not even inside the townhouse at all, but surely that was not possible. Thomas had not heard her exit. Unless...

  “She is not inside, sir.”

  “Connie, find her, please,” Dr. Morton said with a furrowed brow. “Where on earth could she be?”

  “Perhaps search at the cliff’s edge,” Thomas said to the maidservant and she nodded, hastily running to the back of the townhouse.

  “How do you know of the cliff’s edge?” the doctor asked.

  “Perhaps this is not the time for that question, Doctor,” Thomas said.

  “Indeed. You may kindly inform me later.”

  They searched around the townhouse, in the small garden, and the area behind the townhouse where the stables and Dr. Morton’s carriage stood, but Rebecca was nowhere to be seen. In the distance they noticed Connie rushing towards them, her cheeks flushed, and her expression frazzled.

  “I could not find her, sir. She is not at the cliffs, nor did I see her along the promenade.”

  “Did you happen to look at the bottom of the cliffs?” Thomas asked with a lump in his throat.

  “How dare you insinuate...” The doctor’s voice trailed, and he shook his head in disgust.

  “My sincerest apologies, Dr. Morton. I did not mean to upset you any more than you already are.”

  “Excuse, me, sir.”

  A small voice came from behind them and they turned around. A young man, not even twenty years of age, approached them and Dr. Morton seemed familiar with him.

  “Jonny. Have you seen Rebecca?” Dr. Morton asked.

  “No, sir. I have not.”

  Filled with disappointment, Dr. Morton’s shoulders slumped, and he turned to Thomas. “Jonny is our stable boy. He tends to the horses of the residents of the townhouses.”

  “I did happen to notice that the gelding you keep for pulling your buggy is missing, along with Rebecca’s saddle, sir.”

  “The gelding is not safe to ride, especially not for a woman,” Dr. Morton said with a shudder.

  “Do not fret, Dr. Morton. I will take the carriage back to Finlay Hall, retrieve my own horse and search for her,” Thomas said.

  “Very well, but you must make haste. It will be dark soon, and I do not wish for my daughter to be lost in the dark. She...”

  The physician’s voice trailed once more and although he did not complete his sentence, Thomas was well aware what those missing words were.

  He grew increasingly worried with every passing moment. The cliffs were a very dangerous place to ride at night, and Thomas had to stop himself from fearing the worst.

  He rushed to his carriage and ordered for the driver to make haste, urgently taking him back to Finlay hall as speedily as possible. There was absolutely no time to waste.

  As the horse galloped at full speed, Thomas’s jaw clenched as he realised that he truly cared for Rebecca, even more deeply than he had initially thought. He had felt obligated to court her to save her reputation, but now he recognised that he would wish to court her, no matter what. He simply wished to be with her, and ultimately marry her.

  Truth be told—there was absolutely no point in denying it any longer—he was in love with Rebecca. This realisation hit him hard, and he knew that he would never be able to forgive himself if something happened to Rebecca. He had to find her and bring her home safely.

  He had no other choice.

  WITH THE WIND IN HER hair and tears streaming down her face, Rebecca guided her father’s horse along the grassy field. She didn’t know how long she had been riding, steering the animal into the unknown, or where precisely she found herself. All she knew was that she needed to get away.

  After listening to her father and Thomas deliberate her future as Thomas’ wife, she had never felt so powerless. They did not ask her opinion, or even allow her to be a part of the discussion.

  Despite her feelings for Thomas, she had not expected him to simply make the decision – and such an important decision as marriage – without discussing it with her first. She had never been so insulted.

  Rebecca glanced up at the sky. The sun was very close to the horizon and it would soon be dark. Her surroundings did not look even remotely familiar, and she drew in a deep breath. Steering the horse in the opposite direction, she hoped she would find her way back to familiar terrain, but soon realised she was lost.

  In the distance, she noticed a large lake, then she realized how parched she was. She wasn’t certain whether the water was clean enough to drink, but she could splash water on her face before trying to find her way back to the townhouse.

  She’d been living in Weymouth for some time, but she’d never ventured out this far, and unaccompanied.

  Her horse came to a stop and she slowly dismounted near the lake, her feet touching the soft, green grass. The grass beside the lake was lush and green, and as soon as she knelt down at the water’s edge, her surroundings somehow felt familiar to her, as though she had been there before.

  The cool water felt lovely on her hands and she splashed some on her face. She drew in a deep breath and as she rose to her feet, she noticed the large stable to her right, and in the distance a very large mansion towering out from behind the trees. She instantly recognised the large windows, as well as the stone inlays on the corner bricks and she stumbled back to her horse.

  She was on the grounds of Finlay Hall, the duke’s estate, one of the two places she wished not to be. She pulled on the reins of the horse in an attempt to make a hasty escape, before anyone saw her – especially the Dowager Duchess.

  As she walked around her horse, she bit her lip. As much as she did not wish to admit it, she wasn’t sure how to find her way back to her father’s townhouse, and she did not want to knock on the door of Finlay Hall and request assistance.

  “Excuse me?” a girl called out and Rebecca jumped. “Can we help you?”

  She turned around and noticed two young girls in riding gear and a young stable hand.

  “Who are you?” the stable hand asked, frowning with suspicion.

  “I...” Rebecca stuttered from fear.

  Before she was able to gather her thoughts, a lady rounded the stables and approached her. She would have been probably ten years older than herself. She was dressed in very expensive riding clothing.

  Now she
felt foolish. There was not a chance that Rebecca would be able to simply ride off without seeming rude and disrespectful.

  She stepped away from her horse. “Pardon the intrusion. I am Rebecca Morton.”

  “Rebecca Morton? As in Dr. Morton’s daughter?” the lady asked.

  “Indeed.”

  The woman stuck her hand out to Rebecca with a bright smile. “Emma Melton. Charles is my husband. I am delighted to meet you. I have heard so many things about you.”

  Rebecca swept into a low bow, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.”

  “Acquaintance? It feels as though I have known you for a while now,” Emma said with a smile.

  “And why is that?” Rebecca asked carefully as she rose from her curtsey.

  “Thomas has spoken of you on more than one occasion,” Emma said. “Have you come to visit him? I am not certain where he is, but I can find out for you.”

  “No, I am not here to see him. Frankly I did not even realise I was on the estate,” Rebecca said and cleared her throat. “It is rather embarrassing to admit, but I went for a ride on my horse and I did not know where I was until I stopped here at the lake and saw the manor house. I did not intend on trespassing, Your Grace. I am truly sorry.”

  “Emma, please,” the duchess said, and placed her hand against her heart. “There is no need to apologise, and you are most certainly not intruding. The children and I had just returned from riding ourselves, and we were about to enjoy an early dinner. Would you care to join us?”

  “I should be heading back. I wouldn’t want my father to worry,” Rebecca said.

  Emma was about to respond when a loud commotion came from behind the stables. A cloud of dust blew up as a carriage appeared. Rebecca’s jaw dropped as she recognised the young man climbing from the vehicle.

  She wondered what had made Thomas return to the estate, but as soon as he called out to the stable hand, she realised what his plans were.

  “You there, prepare my horse as speedily as possible,” he said, loud enough for even Rebecca to hear.

  “Thomas?” Emma asked and turned to the stables.

  “Emma, my apologies but I have not the time to chat.”

  “What is the matter?” Emma asked. “And why are you in such a panicked state?”

  Rebecca recalled Thomas telling her of the duchess’ grace and poise, and how she was able to set people at ease with her calm and gentle demeanour. She now saw it first-hand and it was quite impressive.

  Seeing Thomas, however, made her recall the conversation with her father and the manner in which they’d made her feel powerless and unwanted. It had not been fair of him—either of them—and she wished to make him aware of this even if it meant to confront him in this moment.

  “I require my horse. Rebecca is missing and I must find her, Emma,” Thomas said, his voice riddled with guilt. “I must find her. She may be in danger, and if anything were to happen to her, I would never forgive myself.”

  “There is no need to go, Thomas. She is all right,” Emma said.

  “What do you speak of? I must go. I am the one who caused this. I am at fault, and I must find her. It will be dark soon.”

  “Thomas, please, listen to me—”

  “Emma,” Thomas said and stared directly at her. “I know you mean well but you do not understand the urgency of this matter. Now step away.”

  Rebecca did not appreciate Thomas’s tone directed wrongfully at Emma and she marched towards him. “That is no way to speak to the Duchess of Waign.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Thomas stared wordlessly at Rebecca, who was safe and sound at the estate, and although he was relieved she was standing in front of him, the anger and resentment in her eyes unsettled him.

  “Rebecca, you’re here,” he panted, out of breath.

  “That is precisely what I wanted to tell you, but you didn’t give me the chance,” Emma said and placed a hand on her hip.

  “Would you perhaps excuse us for a moment, Emma?” Thomas asked, then thought to add, “Please?”

  “Of course,” Emma nodded. “Come along children.”

  His nieces emerged from the stables and followed Emma towards the manor house. As soon as they were far enough away, he stepped toward Rebecca.

  “Where have you been? Your father and I have been sick with worry—” Thomas said, his voice louder than he’d anticipated.

  His words were silenced immediately when Rebecca stepped forward and slapped him across the face.

  “How dare you?” Rebecca spat at him, then crossed her arms. “Never in my life have I met a more presumptuous man, and believe me, I have met more than my fare share.”

  Thomas rested his palm against his heated cheek and stared at Rebecca. “What are you talking about? You father and I have been searching for you. You were not in your chambers and—”

  “I’m surprised you even noticed I was gone.”

  “Why would we not notice?” he asked.

  “Your conversation was very consuming, it seemed.”

  “Rebecca,” Thomas sighed. “I am confused.”

  Rebecca laughed bitterly and threw her hands in the air as she turned back to where he’d come from. “Imagine my surprise.”

  Thomas frowned and he followed the angry young woman down the slight slope leading to the lake. “Rebecca, please wait.”

  He reached out his hand to grab her arm and spun her around.

  “Unhand me immediately,” she said.

  “Not until you explain why you are acting so bizarrely.”

  “I am acting as I rightfully should. I am upset and I have every right to be,” she said.

  “May we go inside and discuss our future as sensible adults?”

  The thought of anyone thinking he was a sensible adult amused him and as he chuckled to himself, Rebecca glowered at him angrily.

  “I apologise.” He hurried to add, “There were many things cascading through my mind that I should not be thinking. But, please, I do not wish to see you upset. Allow me to direct you to a safe place inside where we can converse as we need to.”

  Rebecca stared at him, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  “Please, Rebecca.”

  She drew in a breath and nodded. “Very well, but on one condition.”

  “Anything,” Thomas said and clasped his hands together. “I will do anything.”

  “Have my father’s horse returned to him, and inform him that I am safe,” she said.

  “Of course,” Thomas nodded and called out to the stable boy. He gave the young lad instructions, which he conveyed to one of the grooms.

  He then offered his arm to Rebecca, but she refused. So, he held his hands up in defeat and continued towards the manor house. Rebecca’s footsteps followed right behind him, and a smile formed on his lips. At least she hadn’t tried to run away again.

  He was completely perplexed by Rebecca’s anger. He had been under the impression that she liked him and enjoyed his company. They shared interests in art, painting and sketching. She had very much enjoyed herself when they hunted for fossils on the beach.

  Had he been mistaken about her affections for him? Why was she upset at the fact that he had told her father that he wished to court her with the promise of an engagement and marriage? Was that not what she wanted?

  Perhaps being a man made him oblivious to the ways of women. Or perhaps it had been true what his late father had told him, that women were not created to be understood fully. At the time his father said that, he felt that it was a rather derogatory thing to say, but as he grew older and began to encounter young women, he realised how incredibly wise his father had been. Women were more complex than he’d imagined, and Rebecca’s behaviour now clearly proved it.

  Thomas led her to the ladies’ parlour and opened the door for her to enter. As expected, Emma, Julia and Abigail were inside, dressed in lovely frocks awaiting dinner. Thomas glanced at Rebecca, who seemed rather uncomfortable in the other three l
adies’ company.

  Tears began to form in her eyes as she stepped back, but Thomas urged her inside.

  “My dearest sisters,” Thomas announced. “You have all heard me speak of a lovely young woman who has captured my heart, and I wish to introduce you to her. This is Rebecca Morton, the woman I intend to marry.”

  He smiled down at Rebecca, but her stormy expression caused him to step away, as he feared he may be slapped across the face once more.

  “I wish you would stop announcing things that are not true, Thomas,” Rebecca said, and as he was about to respond, she quickly added, “And no, having a conversation with my father without including me in it, does not give you the authority to simply decide on my behalf.”

  “Thomas,” Abigail said and turned to him. “Is that true?

  “Well, I...” he stuttered and lowered his gaze.

  “Rebecca, come here. Sit with us,” Emma said, angrily eyeing Thomas.

  Rebecca approached the large sofa where the three young women sat and joined them.

  “Is this true, Rebecca?” Emma asked.

  She glanced worriedly at Thomas, but Abigail added, “You may speak freely here, Rebecca.”

  Rebecca drew in a breath and nodded. “Indeed. I witnessed most of the conversation from afar, a spectator who was not asked to give her opinion on the matter. I am not certain why Thomas thinks that is what I want.”

  “You don’t care for him?” Abigail asked.

  He stepped back and lowered his gaze in disappointment. If she did not have feelings for him, everything he had done had been in vain and he’d made a fool of himself.

  “Truthfully,” Rebecca said after a long pause, “I do like him. He is wonderful and kind at the best of times, but seeing him today talking to my father with no regard to what I want is not the kind of man I know him to be. My feelings for him do not matter much, whether I am deeply in love with him or not. I cannot agree to marry a man who made arrangements with my father as if I were a millstone around his neck. He did not even ask my permission, or even my opinion first. If I did not matter in the proposal, why would I matter in the rest of the marriage. That is not what I want.”