Desperate Bride

by A. S. Fenichel

  “And your mother?” His breath was warm and tickled the side of her face.

  “I do not know what will happen tonight. Normally, we would return home at two-thirty, but when she cannot find me, I cannot say what will happen.”

  His lips grazed her temple.

  The light kiss shook her soul and she had to grab his arm to keep her feet. The full moon illuminated the angles of his face, turning him into a creature of myth. She gazed into his eyes and his lips captured hers.

  Just as it had in his study, the world collapsed into that moment in time. Lost in the kiss, nothing else existed. His lips were soft and strong and he wrapped his arm around her waist possessively. His other hand cupped her throat, caressing her flesh like she was a crystal goblet and might shatter if he applied any pressure.

  It wasn’t as if she’d never been kissed before. Several young men had stolen kisses over the last two seasons. But this was something else. There was passion behind Thomas’s kisses that went beyond the physical. His lips made her yearn for more.

  Her heartbeat tripled and her skin prickled calling for his touch. There was a soft moan, which she knew was her own, and a low groan from him.

  He pulled back and she stumbled in his arms. “Dory, you are amazing.”

  “Thank you, though I have no idea what you mean.”

  Pressing his lips to the top of her head, he gave her a brief hug. “Come, I have a carriage waiting at the back gate.”

  This was really happening.

  He offered his arm.

  She hesitated before accepting.

  “Dory, you are pale as a sheet. Are you certain this is what you want?” He led her through the gardens with the ease of a man who sneaked around often.

  “I will not lie. I am terrified.”

  “Shall I return you to your mother?” He stopped at the back gate. They were alone with only the moon to light the way. He faced her. Placing his finger under her chin, he encouraged her to look him in the eye. They shone like sapphires in the night.

  “If I go back my life is forfeit. My father has sold me to pay off his foolish debts. I cannot go back.” Her voice caught, despite her determination to be brave.

  He shook his head kept his gaze averted. “I was not sure you knew the circumstances of the arrangement with Hartly.”

  “Father is always forthright. He told Mother and me everything. He always tells everything. His fatherly advice included waiting a full month before I found myself a proper lover.”

  “He did not say that?”

  “He did.”

  “I am sorry, Dory.”

  She drew in a long breath and squared her shoulders. “I am ready to go now, Tom.”

  “We have to wait here for another moment or two.” He stepped close and held her. Lowering his head for a kiss, but stopping short and staring into her eyes.

  It was difficult to gain enough breath to speak whilst in his arms. “Why? I thought you said the carriage was waiting.”

  “It is, but we need to do one last thing before we go. It is the thing that will keep your mother from tearing Southerton’s apart tonight.”

  Voices filtered in from the left. Some familiar and some not.

  Serena Dowder laughed and stepped into view. She nodded to Thomas and tugged Lady Pemberhamble’s arm.

  Pemberhamble stared open-mouthed at Dory and Thomas.

  Thomas grabbed Dory’s hand and pulled her through the gate, into the alley where his carriage waited.

  He was clever to arrange for the most notorious gossip in London to see them leave together. It would cause a scandal, but it would also keep her mother from assuming a nefarious plot was at hand. She cringed at what would be in the paper once Pemberhamble spread the word, but it couldn’t be helped.

  Once in the carriage they rumbled down the streets of London. The silence between them loomed like poison.

  Dory watched as the Southerton townhouse grew smaller out the window. She was not likely to be welcomed back again. Why should that bother her? She had never cared much for society balls and social clubs. She preferred to choose her own friends.

  Still she stared at the card and the red embossed seal in the corner.

  Thomas patted her hand. “You may yet have use for it, my lady.”

  She tucked it back into her reticule. “It doesn’t matter. I do not enjoy those events much anyway.”

  “It is not the events so much as the invitations one misses.” He’d captured it.

  Hartly’s hideous face and hunched body reminded her that this was the right thing to do.

  She shrugged. “Are we going to Gretna Green?”

  “No. I have had a better idea.”

  “Where are we going?” Her brother and Sophia adored Thomas, but what did she know about him? Maybe he would take advantage of her and leave her in some village to fend for herself. She was being an idiot, but she couldn’t keep her mind from conjuring one horror after another.

  “I thought you might like to have a friend present at your wedding and since we both have friends living in Scotland…”

  “We’re going to Kerburghe?”

  He nodded.

  Her dearest friend, Elinor, had married the Duke of Kerburghe. The two of them had moved to Scotland for the better part of the year. Her heart filled with joy. She would not stand alone at a foreign altar and speak sacred words with no family to hear them. Elinor would be with her. She leapt into Thomas’s arms. “Thank you.”

  Laughing, he held her. “I am glad you are happy.”

  Clinging to him, she kissed his cheek. “I could not be more thrilled.”

  “I shall endeavor to keep you in this exact state of bliss for the rest of your days.”

  She knew he was joking, despite the solemnity of his tone. Pushing away, she moved to take her own seat.

  He held her and tucked her more firmly into his lap. “I wonder if you would let me hold you a few moments longer, Dory.”

  “If you wish.”

  “Because I am saving you?”

  He was warm and comfortable. He filled her head with spice and manly scents that transformed into music inside her. She longed for a pianoforte or a scrap of paper. Breathing him in, she placed her head on his shoulder and her arms around his neck. “Because, this is nice and comfortable.”

  He relaxed. “I am very glad you think so.”

  “I have always liked you, Tom. As I told you before, I did not choose you on a whim, but with care and thought.”

  “Because I love music and will not hinder you playing.” His tone was flat and his arms loosed around her.

  Wishing for flowery phrases would not change who she was. Simple truth would have to do. “You are a good and kind man. You have done well in business. The gossip of you is always favorable. I like you more than most people and you never have been anything but respectful toward me. Also, my brother thinks the world of you.”

  He laughed but there was no humor in the sound. “Anything else?”

  He wanted romance and she wished she could give that to him, but it wasn’t the truth. “I know you are in love with Sophia and perhaps I might be a good substitute for unrequited love.”

  His entire body tightened at once.

  She’d made him angry. Dory pushed away, but he held her tight.

  “Dory, listen to me very carefully. I am not nor have I ever been, in love with our friend Sophia. I am very fond of her and delighted for her happiness with Daniel.”

  “I would like to go back to my own seat now.”

  He released her and she scrambled across the carriage. It was not better to be looking at him. In his arms, she could hide from his all-knowing gaze.

  She smoothed her skirt. “You offered to marry Sophia. I know it was a secret, but she told me.”

  He closed his eyes
, took a breath, and when he opened his eyes, there was a softness there that made her heart beat faster. “True. If Daniel had not married her, I would have prevailed upon her to marry me.”

  “And I am sure you would have made her very happy. It is lucky for me that Lord Marlton came to his senses. Sophia and I have much in common. Hopefully, I am a fair substitute and will make you content.”

  He rubbed his forehead and ran his hand through his shock of dark red hair.

  “Perhaps I should not have said anything. We had said we would be honest with each other.” This was a bad beginning. She’d misread him, thinking he was as forthright as she, and now he was angry. Her heart pounded as she waited for him to bang on the carriage and demand the driver turn them around.

  He leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees and staring into her eyes. “Dorothea, I am not in love with Sophia and I have never been. I thought we might suit because I like her. At the time, she needed a friend and Daniel was being an ass. You are not a substitute for anyone. I would never place you in comparison with our friend.”

  “That is a relief, as I can never come close to Sophia’s goodness.” Dory swallowed the dread rising in her throat.

  Shaking his head, he captured both her hands in his. “I wish you knew your worth, my dear.” He kissed first the fingers on her left hand, and then those on her right before releasing her and sitting back against the bench cushion.

  Chapter 5

  Thomas longed to take her from the opposite bench and pull her into his arms where he would keep her for the remainder of the trip. The search for her will have already begun, making it impossible to stop and rest for the remainder of the day. She slept, though fitfully, and he watched her as he always watched her, from the shadows. His desire for Dory and the daydreams of what a life with her might be like had not included an elopement.

  How could she think him in love with Sophia? He adored Sophia and had Daniel not married her, Thomas would have. But love her romantically? No. He never had nor did he suspect he ever could.

  Dory shifted and the hood on her cape fell back. Her skin shone like gold and her hair a rich warm blond. Everything about her lured him in; petite, perfect, remarkable, and about to be his. It was madness to marry her, but she had asked and he was helpless to resist. The sight of Hartly ogling her was too much. He couldn’t bear it.

  The sunrise streamed in the carriage and filled the world with orange and red. Thomas’s heart stopped at the way her skin glowed in the daylight.

  She listed to one side, catching herself, and her deep green eyes popped open. Cheeks pink, she righted herself.

  Thomas moved to the other side of the carriage next to her. He wrapped one arm around her shoulder and pressed her to his side.

  Stiff as an old oak when he first touched her, she relaxed and settled against him with a slow sigh. “Thank you.”

  He didn’t deserve the joy erupting inside him. “My pleasure.”

  Relaxing her head against his collarbone and the crook of his neck, she returned to sleep.

  Her hair filled his senses with flowers and her skin warmed him like nothing else. There was no point in denying he was smitten. She was everything he’d ever wanted in a wife and much more. If only he deserved such a person it would all be perfect. But he didn’t, and there would be a price to pay for giving her what she wanted. He kissed the top of her head, her soft hair tickling his nose and cheek.

  Between her maid, trunk, and harp they’d needed a second carriage for transport. It was a miracle they’d not been spotted already. The only thing saving them was that they took the road to Kerburghe and not Gretna Green. It would take them an extra half-day to arrive, but the spotters would be looking in the wrong direction.

  Thomas closed his eyes for a few hours’ sleep.

  * * * *

  As the sun cast long shadows from the west, Thomas instructed Mally, his driver, to stop for the night.

  “Are we there?” Dory stretched her arms as far as the carriage walls would allow.

  “I am afraid not. It will be another day and a half before we reach Kerburghe land.”

  “I did not realize it was so far.”

  “Quite a distance. I have ordered a stop for the night. I imagine you could use a soft bed and a good meal at this point.”

  Her eyes opened like green pools of panic. “Don’t you think they’ll find us if we stop?”

  “I hope they are looking in the wrong place entirely.”

  The carriage pulled to a stop in the yard of a small inn. The quaint stone building was alight with activity. There was singing and stomping inside from a party of some kind. A boy ran from the barn to help with the horses.

  As long as Thomas had known Dorothea, she had always seemed supremely confident. As a school friend of her brother, Markus, he had watched her grow from childhood to magnificence. In all that time, she had played music like an angel and men like a vixen. She had turned down the regard of men with twice his worth and not blinked an eye. She manipulated her father and brother with ease and even helped recover Daniel when he’d been kidnapped. The woman next to him didn’t resemble that person. Eyes cast to the floor, she tugged her cape around her as if it were armor and crossed her arms.

  The footman opened the carriage door and took down the step.

  Thomas held up a hand. “One moment, Sam.”

  Sam closed the door and turned his back to the carriage.

  “Dory?”

  “Yes?” She looked at the empty vase attached the wall, and then at the leather cushion of the bench seat.

  “Are you afraid of being caught, or is it me you fear?” His chest tightened, hoping it was the first.

  Still unwilling to make eye contact with him she bit her lip and looked out the window where a boy chased after a dog. “I have made promises—”

  “You mean to me? You mean the offer of your body in exchange for this rescue?”

  She nodded and paled.

  Dear God, it was him she feared. The air went out of him. At once desperate to ease her worry and furious at her. “I would never harm you. You must know that.”

  Finally, she braved looking at him. Liquid pools reflected his own warped image. “You are angry. I am sorry. I should be on my knees thanking you for what you’ve done for me, but I am afraid and want to run away.”

  “You are running away.”

  “From you.”

  “I see.” The pain in his chest tore at him until he knew what people meant when they said their heart broke. “Nothing will ever transpire between you and me that you do not permit, Dorothea. I am not a monster.”

  “I know that.”

  It took a force of will to hold his temper at bay. “Then let’s go inside and get some rest. You have trusted me this far, can you not take it a bit further?”

  A knock on the carriage door. “Are you all right, my lady?”

  Thomas sighed and eased the door open.

  The maid’s shoulders slumped and dark rings smudged beneath her eyes. She was as exhausted as her lady.

  “We are fine. Can you see that your lady’s trunk is unloaded—”

  “Emily, sir. I will see to the luggage.” Emily bobbed and walked away.

  Thomas stepped down and helped Dory from the carriage.

  The innkeeper introduced himself as Mr. Fine. He stood more than a foot taller than Thomas and his expression went from grim to dour.

  Craning his neck, Thomas stared the man in the eye. “My wife and I will need a room for the night. I also need arrangements for my lady’s maid and three other servants.”

  Mr. Fine moved with slow deliberation a few seconds behind those around him. He spoke slowly and his welcoming gesture crept along. “I have space for you, sir. You’ll have to forgive the noise though. We’ve had a wedding and the party guests will be at it for some t
ime.”

  The common room was raucous with drink and laughter. The bride and groom laughed from high up in chairs, carried by the crowd and paraded around the room. “It is not a problem for us.”

  “Very well. I will have my wife show you to your room. I will see to your servants.”

  Mrs. Fine was as tall as Thomas. She wrung her hands and fidgeted as they walked up a flight of stairs and down a hallway. “The room is quite nice. I hope you’ll be comfortable.”

  They entered a clean, serviceable room with heavy dark blue drapes over a sturdy wood bed. One chair in the corner and a table near the window overlooking the yard.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Fine. This will do nicely,” Thomas said.

  Dory kept her face hidden by the hood of her cape but she twisted her fingers together.

  “Should I have supper sent up?”

  “Would you mind if we went down for a meal? We’ve been cooped up in that carriage for the entire day. If the wedding party would not mind a couple of strangers, we’d love to eat in the common room.”

  Mrs. Fine brightened. “Of course. Come down whenever you’re ready. I will have a fine meal for you.”

  He had hoped the knowledge they would not remain in the room until morning would lessen her worry, but she stared out the window as if death himself were coming for her. His rage got the better of him. “Dorothea.”

  She spun toward him, eyes wide, mouth open, and hand clutching her chest. Her hood fell away.

  In two steps, he crossed the room and dragged her into his arms. Crushing her to him, he ordered his temper back and kissed the top of her head. “I am sorry. I should not have raised my voice. The fact that you are terrified of me does not bode well for our future. I will endeavor to change your mind about my character.”