Whirlwind Wedding

by Jacquie D’Alessandro

  She frowned then nodded while wiping her fingers on a square of cloth. He wondered what she was thinking, his curiosity aroused by her silence and troubled expression.

  "Is something wrong, Miss Matthews?"

  "I'm not certain. May I… touch your hand?"

  Heat snaked down his spine at her request. Without a word, he lifted his hand.

  She pressed it tightly between her palms and closed her eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, her eyes slowly opened. There was no mistaking the fear and concern shadowing them.

  "Is something amiss?"

  "I'm afraid so, your grace."

  "Did you, er, see William again?"

  "No. I saw… you."

  "Me?"

  She nodded looking worried. "I saw you. I felt it." "What did you feel?"

  "Danger, your grace. I fear you're in grave danger."

  Chapter 4

  Austin stared at her. Clearly she was suffering from delusions, but the fearful expression in her eyes chilled him. Hell, if I don't take care, she'll have me convinced goblins lurk behind every tree. He tried gently to extricate his hand but she clasped it tightly between her own.

  "Soon," she whispered. "I see trees, moonlight. You're on horseback, in a forest. Rain is on the way. I wish I knew more, but that's all I saw. I cannot tell you what form this danger will take, but I swear the threat to you is genuine. And imminent." Her voice turned into a desperate plea. "You must not ride in the forest after dark, in the rain."

  Disgusted with himself for feeling slightly unnerved Austin pulled his hand from between hers. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Miss Matthews. Do not concern yourself."

  Frustration flickered in her eyes. "I am concerned your grace, and you should be as well. While I can understand your skepticism, I assure you what I say is true. What possible reason could I have to lie to you?"

  "I have asked myself that very question, Miss Matthews. And I'm very interested in the answer."

  "There is no answer. I am not lying. Good heavens, are you always this pigheaded?" Her eyes narrowed on his face. "Or are you perhaps beavered?"

  Had she just called him pigheaded? And what the hell was- "Beavered? "

  "Yes. Have you overindulged in strong spirits?"

  He glared at her. "Foxed. You mean foxed. And no, of course I'm not. Good God it's barely seven in the morning." He leaned closer to her and his annoyance peaked when she stood her ground and glared right back at him. "Nor am I pigheaded."

  An unladylike snort that sounded suspiciously like an oink escaped her lips. "I'm certain you enjoy thinking you're not." She gathered up her supplies, then rose. "I must go. Aunt Joanna will wonder what's become of me." Without another word she turned and headed swiftly down the path leading back to the house.

  Austin watched her disappearing form and reined in his irritation. Damn impertinent woman. God help the poor bastard who leg-shackled himself to that ill-mannered American.

  Once his anger cooled however, her disturbing words replayed in his mind. Danger.

  An uneasy sensation slithered through him, but he resolutely shook it off. He was on his own private estate, miles away from anything except nature. What could possibly endanger him here? A hungry squirrel biting his leg? A goat butting his arse? He inwardly chuckled at the thought of being chased about the grounds by furry animals.

  His amusement abruptly died as he thought of the blackmail letter. Could the blackmailer mean to harm him? He shook his head, dismissing the thought. The blackmailer wanted money-he wouldn't get it if he harmed the source.

  Still, what were her intentions in warning him about danger? Could she be in cahoots with the blackmailer? Was she trying to make him worry about the blackmailer so he'd pay the bastard? Or was she perhaps another of the blackmailer's victims and merely trying to help him? Or was she simply daft?

  He didn't know, but he put no credence in this visions nonsense.

  No, he was not in danger.

  Absolutely not.

  And he wasn't pigheaded either.

  Two hours later, Austin walked into the dining room, hoping for a peaceful cup of coffee, and nearly groaned. Two dozen pairs of eyes looked at him. Damn. He'd forgotten about his mother's remaining guests who were actually his guests.

  "Good morning, Austin," his mother said in a tone he recognized all too well. It was her thank-heavens-you've-shown-up-because-someone-is-boring-us-all-to-tears voice. "Lord Digby was just expounding on the virtues of the latest irrigation systems. I believe that is a pet subject of yours."

  He nearly laughed out loud at the desperate look she sent him-a look even the most heartless man could not ignore. Knowing she wanted him to occupy Lord Digby's attention, he eased into his chair at the head of the table and gave the man an encouraging nod. "Irrigation systems? Fascinating stuff." Conversation resumed and after accepting coffee from a footman, he pretended to listen to Lord Digby while his gaze drifted down the table.

  Caroline smiled at him, then after a surreptitious peek left and right, she rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. He winked back, pleased that she looked so happy and had somehow managed to retain her sense of humor through what was rapidly promising to be a deadly boring meal.

  His eyes skimmed over the other guests while he absently nodded in response to Lord Digby's harangue. Lady Digby sat surrounded by her numerous daughters. Good God how many were there again? Taking a quick inventory, he counted five, all of whom were currently fluttering their eyelashes at him.

  He barely suppressed a shudder. What had Miles called the chits? Oh yes. Cabbage-headed nincompoops. He made a mental note to take Miles at his word and stay as far away from the Digby daughters as possible. No doubt if he paid them the slightest attention, Lady Digby would immediately summon the vicar.

  Countess Penbroke sat next to his mother, and the two women were engaged in an animated conversation Austin could not hear. Lady Penbroke wore but yet another sample from her seemingly endless supply of outlandish headgear. Austin watched strangely fascinated, as a footman nimbly dodged the long ostrich feathers protruding from her chartreuse turban that threatened to poke out eyes every time she moved her head.

  He nearly choked on his coffee when he observed Lady Penbroke carelessly toss her feather boa, another favorite accessory, over her shoulder. Instead of settling about her plump shoulders, the trail of feathers landed squarely in a Digby daughter's plate. The chit, engrossed in smiling insipidly at him, unknowingly speared the boa on her fork. Before Austin could issue a warning, the same quick-moving footman who'd avoided Lady Penbroke's plumes reached out, plucked the boa from the fork, settled it about Lady Penbroke with an expert flick of the wrist, then continued around the table without batting an eye. Impressed, Austin made a mental note to increase the man's wages.

  Leaning back, he continued his perusal down the table. His mother, he noted looked happy, composed and surprisingly refreshed considering she probably hadn't retired until close to dawn. Her golden hair was arranged in a becoming chignon, and her midnight blue gown exactly matched her eyes. She and Caroline looked so much alike, he knew exactly what his sister would look like in twenty-five years-absolutely beautiful.

  Austin's gaze continued moving along the guests and he raised his brows when Miles nodded to him over the rim of his coffee cup. Could the fact that his friend hadn't yet departed for London indicate that he might already have something to report about Miss Matthews?

  A frown pinched his brow and his gaze swept over the guests once again. And just where was Miss Matthews? One chair at the table remained conspicuously vacant.

  Not that he was anxious to see the damn impertinent piece. No indeed. In fact, if he didn't need to find out what possible connection she could have to William, he'd dismiss her from his thoughts entirely.

  Yes, he'd dismiss her big golden brown eyes that could change from smiling to serious in a heartbeat, and that thick, curling auburn hair that begged to have a man's fingers sift through its
luxurious length. He wouldn't give her mouth another thought. Hmmm… her mouth. Those delectable, full, pouty lips-

  "By cracky, your grace, are you feeling all right?"

  Lord Digby's voice yanked Austin's attention back to reality. "I beg your pardon?"

  "I inquired about your health. You groaned."

  "I did?" Bloody hell! The woman was a nuisance even when she was absent.

  "Yes. Kippers affect me that way, too. Onions as well."

  Lord Digby leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Lady Digby can always tell if I've indulged myself at dinner. Blasted woman knows every morsel I put in my mouth and locks her bedchamber door if I've sneaked so much as one bite of onion." He cast a pointed look down the table at his five daughters. "Something you might want to keep in mind when you're ready to choose a wife."

  Good God. The thought of being leg-shackled to a Digby daughter chased away his remaining appetite. Throwing a meaningful look at Miles, Austin excused himself to Lord Digby and rose.

  "Where are you off to?" his mother asked.

  Walking over to stand behind her, Austin dropped a quick kiss on her temple. "I have some business with Miles."

  She turned her concerned gaze searching his face, no doubt looking for the telltale signs of fatigue that he knew often shadowed his eyes. Knowing she worried about him, he forced a smile and made her a formal bow. "You look lovely this morning, Mother. As always."

  "Thank you. You look"-her voice dropped to a confidential pitch-"distracted. Is something amiss?"

  "Not at all. In fact, I'll make it a point to join you this afternoon for tea."

  Surprise sparkled in her eyes. "Now I know something is wrong."

  Chuckling, he excused himself, then made his way to his private study to await Miles.

  Austin leaned his hips against his mahogany desk and regarded Miles, who lounged in Austin's favorite maroon leather wing chair. "You're absolutely certain she's never been in England before she arrived six months ago?" Austin asked.

  "As certain as I can be without actually looking through mountains of ships' passenger logs." When Austin frowned, Miles quickly added, "Which is exactly what I shall do once I reach London. But until then, I can only relate what Countess Penbroke told me. We engaged in a lengthy chat last evening, one that nearly resulted in my losing an eye to the hazard she'd dressed her head with. Look here." He pointed to a small scratch on his temple. "I'm probably scarred for life."

  "I never said this mission wasn't without certain dangers," Austin said blandly.

  "Downright fraught with danger if you ask me," Miles muttered. "But while I fetched Lady Penbroke numerous cups of punch and dodged her feathers, she told me, quite emphatically, that this is her niece's first visit to England. I believe Lady Penbroke's exact words were 'And it's about damn time.'"

  "Do you know how long Miss Matthews is planning to stay?"

  "When I asked Lady Penbroke, she fixed a steely look on me and informed me that as the gel had barely just arrived she'd not made any plans to send her back to America."

  "What about her family?"

  "Her parents are both deceased. Her mother, Lady Penbroke's sister, died eight years ago. The father passed away two years ago."

  "Any brothers or sisters?"

  "No."

  Austin raised his brows. "What did she do after her father died? She can't be much older than twenty. Surely she didn't live alone."

  "She is two and twenty. I came away with the impression that Miss Matthews's father left her comfortable, but far from wealthy. She settled her father's affairs, then moved in with distant relations on her father's side who lived in the same town. Apparently these relatives have a daughter close in age to Miss Matthews and they're great friends."

  "Did you find out anything else?"

  Miles nodded. "When Miss Matthews sailed to England she arrived with a hired traveling companion named Mrs. Loretta Thomkins. They parted company when the ship docked. Lady Penbroke understood that Mrs. Thomkins planned to remain in London with family. If that is the case, she won't be difficult to locate."

  "Excellent. Thank you, Miles."

  "You're welcome, but you owe me a boon. Several, in fact."

  "Based on your tone, I'm not sure I want to know why."

  "I asked so many questions about her niece, I believe Lady Penbroke entertains the notion that I fancy the chit."

  Austin stilled. "Indeed? I imagine you promptly disabused her of that notion."

  Miles shrugged and flicked a bit of lint from his sleeve. "Not exactly. Before speaking to Lady Penbroke, I brought up Miss Matthews to several well-connected ladies. The mere mention of her name induced giggles, twitters, and eye rolling. If Lady Penbroke spreads the word that I've shown interest in her niece, perhaps some of the twittering will stop. Miss Matthews strikes me as a nice young woman who does not deserve to be cast out. In fact, now that I think of it, she's really quite lovely, don't you agree?"

  "I hadn't particularly noticed."

  Miles's brows almost disappeared into his hairline. "You? Not notice an attractive female? Are you ill? Feverish?"

  "No." Damn it, when did Miles become such a blasted pest?

  "Well, allow me to enlighten you. What Miss Matthews lacks in social graces, she more than makes up for with her lovely face, smooth complexion, and dimpling smile. Her beauty is quiet, understated requiring a second look before it can be fully appreciated. While fashionable society decrees her height unfashionable, I find it fascinating." He tapped his chin with two fingers, his expression thoughtful. "I wonder what it would be like to kiss such a tall woman… especially one with a lush mouth like Miss Matthews possesses. Her lips are really quite extraordinary-"

  "Miles."

  "Yes?"

  Austin ordered his clenched muscles to relax. "You've wandered off the subject."

  Miles's face bore a mask of pure innocence. "I thought we were discussing Miss Matthews."

  "We were. It's simply not necessary to mention her… attributes."

  A gleam sparkled in Miles's eyes. "Ah. So you did notice."

  "Notice what?"

  "Her… attributes."

  Determined to put an end to this conversation, Austin said "I'm not blind Miles. Miss Matthews is, as you say, lovely. I do not intend to let that sway or influence me in my search for information." He fixed a penetrating stare on his friend. "I trust you will not allow it to, either."

  "Certainly not. I am not the one who is interested in the woman."

  "I am not interested in her."

  "Indeed?" Chuckling, Miles rose, crossed the Axmin-ster rug, then laid a hand on Austin's shoulder. "You have me traipsing about the kingdom gathering information about her for reasons that you've yet to share with me although you must realize I'm burning with curiosity, and you looked positively grim when I waxed poetic about her remarkable lips."

  "I'm sure I looked nothing of the sort."

  "Grim," Miles repeated "and ready to toss me out on my very elegantly attired posterior."

  To Austin's annoyance, heat crept up his neck. Before he could reply, Miles said "You look like a volcano on the verge of eruption. How very… interesting. And on that note, I shall depart for London. I'll report back as soon as I've discovered anything of interest." He crossed the room, but paused at the door. "Good luck with Miss Matthews, Austin. I've a feeling you're going to need it."

  Chapter 5

  Austin spent most of the afternoon ensconced in his study, going over the accounts of his Cornwall estate. Unfortunately, his mind was not focused on the task and the rows of numbers kept running together, refusing to add up properly. His brain churned with questions. Was it possible that the blackmailer had some connection to the Frenchman Gaspard? Or perhaps the blackmailer was Gaspard. He strongly suspected so, and if so, he was most likely in England hi which case Austin hoped his Bow Street Runner would locate him. Contact me again, you bastard. I look forward to finding you. You plan to write me again in London after Jul
y first-but perhaps I'll find you first. He wanted this settled and the threat to his family over. And he needed to figure out how Miss Matthews fit into the equation.

  In need of a reprieve, he stretched and walked to the windows. Gazing down on the lawns, he saw Caroline and Miss Matthews frolicking with Gadzooks and three other kittens whom he believed were Egad, Balderdash, and Fiddlesticks-although it was sometimes difficult to tell the beasts apart. It was quite possible they were Damn It All, Bloody Hell, and Blow My Dickey.

  Shaking his head he realized that if Miss Matthews and Caroline were going to entertain themselves with the cats, he'd have to warn Mortlin to adjust the beasts' names.

  He opened the window a crack, and feminine giggles drifted up to him. Tenderness seeped through him at Caroline's sweet laughter. It was a sound he had missed for many months after William's death. His gaze settled on Miss Matthews and his heart seemed to skip a beat. A dimpling smile wreathed her face and bright sunlight shimmered on her glorious hair. She looked young, carefree, innocent, and impossibly lovely.

  And she'd made his sister laugh.

  A rush of gratitude warmed him, catching him off guard. He needed to remember that Miss Matthews was obviously more than she appeared. Yes, she'd amused Caroline, but what else might she be telling his sister? Hopefully she wasn't spreading tales of William being alive or spouting nonsense about visions.

  Still, if Caroline befriended her, perhaps his sister could offer him some insights into Miss Matthews's character. Yes, he definitely needed to speak with Caroline.

  As soon as possible.

  Austin's first opportunity to have a private word with Caroline was in the drawing room before dinner that evening. Maneuvering her aside, he remarked in a casual tone, "It appears you've made a new friend."

  Caroline accepted a glass of sherry from a footman. "You mean Elizabeth?" At Austin's nod she said "We spent most of the day together. I like her very much. She's unlike anyone I've ever met."

  "Indeed? What is so unusual about her?"