No Law Against Love

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by Deborah MacGillivray


  “Oh, well, I didn’t know.” Her cheeks were now crimson.

  “Obviously,” he teased before motioning to her clothes, laid neatly across the settee at the foot of the bed.

  “Dress. We must hurry to the bank.”

  Elizabeth stiffened. “Thank you, but I can go by myself. I—”

  “Get dressed,” he repeated impatiently. Blast, this woman could be irritating. “I said I would accompany you, and that’s the end of it.” He turned to leave the room. “I shall await you at the base of the stairs.”

  He left before she could protest further.

  When she came down the steps, Stephen’s breath caught in his throat. Her sandy blonde hair cascaded in curls down her back and over shoulders. Her blue dress was slightly wrinkled, but he doubted many people would notice. No man would be able to tear his eyes away from her face. Well, okay, maybe they’d make it to her breasts, but they’d freeze there before going back to those full lips and blue eyes. Eyes that seemed to beckon him whispered promises of what could be. Blue eyes that allowed him to see tomorrows, happiness…the future. Ah, what a wicked sense of humor Fate has.

  Stephen found himself drawn by them—by her. He wanted to know everything about her, wanting those tomorrows.

  Taking her arm, he nodded to the doorman and escorted her outside into the bright morning sunlight.

  It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the bank. He knew everyone quite well, often accompanying his friend, Trevor, there after an evening of too much gambling.

  “Let me do the talking,” she told him.

  He nodded, stopping paces away. He didn’t want to complicate the transaction.

  Several moments later he was startled when she shrieked, “What do you mean I cannot have any of my funds? That money belongs to me. Father left it to me. Uncle Fergus has no right to it.”

  “Lady MacNairy, I’m sorry, but that’s the stipulation placed on it. Your uncle is your legal guardian, and until you wed he controls the money.”

  “But…but…”

  Stephen couldn’t stand to see the tears streaking down her cheeks. This woman made him feel emotions he’d never had before. He moved forward to place his arm around her. Knew he shouldn’t, but couldn’t stop himself. Something about her made him want to protect her—forever.

  “Is there something wrong, my dear?”

  Elizabeth turned toward him, eyes pleading. “This m-man refuses to give me my money.”

  Stephen pretended he’d heard none of their conversation. Turning, he looked at the bank manager, a man he’d seen many times on his visits with Trevor. Drawing her close, he spoke before he had time to consider the consequences. “Good day, Turner. Is what my wife tells me true? You are refusing to release the funds her father left her? I do not believe your patrons will be pleased to hear such a thing if I choose to inform them. Neither will the authorities.”

  Elizabeth stiffened and looked up at him, but held her tongue.

  The bank manager gaped at Stephen, but quickly gathered his composure. “You and the young lady are wed? I’m sorry. I had not heard the news.”

  The Viscount’s attitude indicated he found this conversation boring.

  “My wife and I came to close her account so she could join her money with mine. It’s easier to handle investments that way.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m quite certain you’ve taken good care of my wife’s money since her father’s death. Now, my good man, is there some reason you refuse to release it?”

  The manager flushed. “Her uncle came here and told me he’d be in charge of her affairs. Assured me he was her legal guardian. I fear…he’s made some large withdrawals during the past sennights.”

  “I see,” Stephen said, drawing Elizabeth closer still. This had to come as a surprise to her. “Is there any money left?”

  “Of course. Of course. Certainly. A sizeable sum. It’s just that…well, it matters not. Terms of the account say the money is hers when she weds. If she is your wife, then it’s all hers.”

  “If?” Stephen’s icy voice indicated if the man uttered one more word, a challenge would be forthcoming.

  The man swallowed hard. “I shall have someone count it for her now.”

  “Splendid,” Stephen said with a smile. “I am sure you do not mind if she sits while you gather it for her.”

  “Oh, my, well of course. Forgive my manners. Please have a seat, Viscountess Linden. And forgive my earlier confusion. Had I known you and Viscount Linden were wed, I never would have argued with you.”

  Stunned, Elizabeth merely nodded.

  ~~~

  Stephen helped her up into his carriage and seated himself on the opposite side. “You need to invest this in a safe place. Somewhere your uncle won’t be able to touch it.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Get your money? I thought you wanted it.” The left side of his mouth twitched up in a half smile.

  “Why did you say you were my husband? You didn’t have to do that. Now my uncle will probably come after you, too. I never meant to involve you in his hatred.”

  “I can take care of myself. I am worried about you. Where do you plan to go now?”

  “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. With Uncle Fergus taking my home, this money is all I have.”

  “It is a tidy sum.”

  “Yes, but it will have to last me a long time. At least until I can find some way to invest it.” She seemed to eye him carefully before speaking again. “Could I put the money in your bank?”

  “That would do no good. No matter where you put it, your uncle would have claim to it.”

  “Even if I were to put it in your account?”

  “Of course not, but…” He drew up short, realizing what she’d just said. “I cannot allow you to do that. My brother is in trouble right now. Financial trouble. Unless our family can figure a way to get him out of this bind, I fear he might run away to the colonies.”

  “America?”

  “Yes, and it’s something our family would rather not happen. He likes his life in England and Mother likes having him close.”

  “But certainly the colonies aren’t that bad.” She stopped a moment, lost in thought. “Surely Uncle Fergus would not follow me there. He’d have all my land to dispose of as he chose.”

  The thought of her getting on a boat traveling to a far away land didn’t settle well with Stephen. Who knew what sort of men she’d find there, although many of his friends had already moved there, appointed to government positions by the Crown. But for all he knew, others could be heathens, and the thought of her with them didn’t settle well with him.

  “No, you shall stay here.” Bloody hell, why was he insisting she remain? She was nothing to him. She was—everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. Strong and courageous—and beautiful. Most women would simply fall apart and let the men walk over them. His wife didn’t do that. She went after what she wanted.

  He’d marry her. Keep her safe from her uncle, from the world. Perhaps it wasn’t the usual manner one obtained a wife, but obviously Fate had smiled upon him. In truth, he’d cast his lot the moment he took her to his home.

  He tapped on the roof of the carriage, indicating he wanted the driver to stop. He opened the door and stretched up to speak with the man. Soon he was seated again and the carriage resumed motion.

  “Where are we going? Back to your house?”

  “No, we must pay a visit to the Bishop at my parents’ church and request a license. We have a busy day ahead of us, wife.”

  “We cannot wed today, sir. Even were I to agree, banns must be called. My uncle would never allow that to happen. Have you lost what little sense you had?”

  “Quite possibly.” He smiled at her, the cat after the canary expression. “However, although we could request a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury’s local representative and be wed immediately, anyplace we so choose, I can request an ordinary license from the Bishop at Hanover Square since my family has at
tended church there for years. Now, do you wish to escape marriage with your cousin or do you not?”

  “I do.”

  “Keep practicing those words, my love. You shall put them to good use shortly. Odd you didn’t notice—Hell’s about to freeze over.”

  Dazed, Elizabeth walked out of Saint George’s Church. How had she let this man—almost a total stranger—talk her into getting married?

  Why had he done it? His brother—he’d said his brother needed money. It had nothing to do with her, he just wanted her money. Well, he couldn’t have it. She needed to keep it safe in case she had to run for her life. After all, what did she really know about this man—other than he’d just made her his Viscountess?

  He seemed kind, had certainly protected her so far, but could she take that at face value?

  ~~~

  In bed that night after he’d made love to her, Elizabeth hoped he’d never come to his senses or think he’d made a mistake marrying her. Though she’d been nervous, he’d made her feel things she never imagined. She hoped morning would never come. Surely he’d change his mind then.

  He reached over and pulled her close. She complied easily, wanting to be as close as possible. His warmth comforted her, and his scent enveloped her. When his fingertips again began skimming over her skin, Elizabeth moved closer on her own.

  He reached over and pulled her on top of him, then ran his fingers up and down her spine.

  “Are you sorry for what we’ve done?”

  Resting her cheek on his chest, she ran her fingers lightly over the soft whorls of hair. “I know not what I feel yet. It’s all too soon—too fast.”

  “Yes, you are right, yet part of me thinks we’ve made a good choice.” His manhood stirred to life as she moved her fingers lightly over his nipple. “A very good choice.”

  Elizabeth couldn’t help herself. She wanted him to hold her all night. Wanted him to make love to her again. “Let me see if I can find which part you are talking about.”

  It didn’t take long for her uncle to discover where she was. Less than a week after their marriage, he stormed into Stephen’s house right after breakfast, knocking the doorman aside as he entered.

  At Elizabeth’s gasp and the man’s angry face, it wasn’t difficult for Stephen to conclude this was the uncle.

  “Welcome to my home, Lord Fergus. My wife and I are pleased you have come to pay your respects.” He swept his arm to a nearby chair. “Would you care for a seat—or will this be a short visit?”

  “Ye bloody thief! Ye think tae take my money? I’ll have this marriage annulled. Marriage my arse! ‘Tisnae legal—ye dinnae even ken each other.”

  A smile slowly crossed Stephen’s face. “Oh, I assure you, Lord Fergus, our marriage is completely legal, and I know my wife very well.”

  MacNairy blustered, “Well, I never.”

  “Really? Sorry to hear that. So you’re saying your son—the one you tried to force on Elizabeth—is not really your heir? Hmm, I’m sure the authorities would be interested in knowing you planned to steal her money by wedding her to a man not related to you. We have all sorts of silly laws to cover every occasion. I am quiet certain we can find one or two to suit you.”

  “Of course he’s my son. Ye know verra well what I mean.”

  “Yes, I do. And now I want you to understand me. Elizabeth is my wife. There shall be no annulment. I plan to protect this woman from you for the rest of her life. Now, if you do not wish me to contact the authorities and have you incarcerated for theft of her funds, I suggest you leave my house and never darken its doors again. Nor will you have any further contact with my wife—ever.”

  When the large man didn’t move, but continued to glare, Stephen stressed, “If you’ve heard anything at all about me, MacNairy, you know my word is my bond. Do I make myself clear?” His eyes narrowed and he rose to his feet, his hand protectively on Elizabeth’s shoulder.

  MacNairy backed to the door, never taking his eyes from Stephen, anger etched across his face. “Aye, Viscount Linden. I understand perfectly.” Without another word, he turned and left the room. The door slamming on his way out made a few of the expensive vases wobble and the windows rattle.

  While they sat and ate lunch, another visitor came to call. Stephen’s brother, Christopher, came through the dining room door.

  “It’s good to see a smile on your face again. Christopher, may I introduce my wife, Lady Elizabeth Webber, Viscountess of Linden? Elizabeth, this is my brother, Christopher.”

  “The one you…told me about?”

  “The very one. Someday soon I shall have to take you to meet my entire family. Had they not been out of the country, you would have met them already.” He said the last to Elizabeth, his eyes alight with happiness.

  He turned to his brother. “And what has you smiling?”

  “Thanks to your help, there is no threat of my having to leave London. I know not how you came up with the money, Stephen, but I thank you. Just wanted to come tell you in person.”

  He rose and started to walk toward the door. “It is a delight to have you in the family, Elizabeth. I can’t remember the last time I saw my brother look so relaxed and happy. It seems you are very good for my brother. Mother shall be delighted to hear someone’s finally made an honest man of him.” His lip twitched upward as he shot Stephen a look of pure devilment. “I believe she and Father are due back home next week.”

  As soon as he left the room and they heard the front door close, Elizabeth turned to Stephen. “You gave him my money after all?”

  He saw the disappointment in her eyes.

  “No, I did not. I invested a good deal of it for you, but would never use your money without telling you.”

  Her look clearly revealed her disbelief. “Then how did you help your brother?”

  “Sold some securities. I took a big loss on them, but Christopher’s welfare was more important than my making money.”

  He rose and pulled her into his arms, brushed his lips against her forehead. “I would never do something to hurt you, Elizabeth. I promised you when we first met that I would protect you.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “But nothing. I didn’t fully realize I meant it at the time, but I know it now. I plan to protect you the rest of your life. I meant what I told your uncle, but I didn’t just mean I’d protect you from him. I’ll protect you from everyone.”

  Elizabeth stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “When I was little, Papa was always nearby. I’ve missed having him around. Missed his loving me. I know Papa’s watching me from Heaven, but it’s nice to have someone else watching over me now.”

  Stephen reached under her knees and lifted her into his arms. “Ah, that I shall, wife. I plan to watch, and touch—and taste.”

  “Stephen, it’s still afternoon!”

  His smile was the only answer she got.

  He opened the door to his chamber and kicked it closed with his booted foot. He carried Elizabeth over to the bed and dropped her negligently in the middle before heading away and rummaging through his desk drawer.

  When he came back, he handed something to her, then began to remove his clothes.

  Elizabeth looked at him quizzically as he drew the drapes over the window to block out the afternoon sun.

  “Enjoy the chocolate, my love. Our bedchamber may not be a public conveyance, but I guarantee before this night’s over, you’ll have enjoyed the ride of your life.”

  Be sure to visit Leanne’s website

  www.leanneburroughs.com

  A Love to Remember

  Cheryl Alldredge

  • Florida - If an elephant is left tied to a parking meter, the parking fee has to be paid just as it would for a vehicle

  John rubbed his forehead as he stared down at the stack of reports. They were only halfway through and he’d already asked himself what he’d gotten into at least a half dozen times. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs, crossing them at t
he ankles. He studied the two men fidgeting nervously in the chairs facing his desk. Together, they represented the entire city police force. Two part-time officers and himself—one full-time, first day on the job, Chief of Police. If the reports were any indication, he could well understand why the Mayor had hired from outside the city. He’d assumed the Mayor had been exaggerating when he’d warned John the combined IQ of the current staff probably didn’t amount to his bowling average.

  “Well, it appears to me our top of the ‘Most Wanted’ list is some woman who doesn’t like to put a quarter in the parking meter.”

  Officer Brown laughed, but Officer Cain straightened and leaned forward in his chair.

  “That’s right, Chief. The woman’s a damn menace.” Cain spoke earnestly, as if describing an axe murderer.

  Brown reached over and swatted Cain with his hat. “Oh shut-up, Cain. You’re just holding a grudge, that’s all.”

  John waited patiently for the two to return their attention to him. “If I’m not mistaken, there are only two parking meters in the downtown area and plenty of parking. How does one woman rack up twenty tickets?”

  “She uses the space in front of Thompson’s market once a week,” Brown supplied. “Been doing it for near onto six months.”

  John looked to Cain. “And you ticket her every time?”

  “And she never pays.” The twenty-something Cain spoke the words through a clenched jaw. Clean-shaven with a crew cut, he looked like a high school JROTC cadet in his city uniform. Officer Brown was likely three times his age. Brown reminded John a bit of an aging Charlie Brown, round and frowning.

  Brown slumped further into his chair. “You ought not to be bothering Miss Smith that way. She’s a sweet little lady, never done nobody no wrong.”

  A picture of a petite, blue haired grandmother formed in John’s mind. That many tickets really had to be addressed. Grandmother or no, she needed to pay the tickets or contest them. John might be young to be Chief of Police, but that didn’t mean he was wet behind the ears. His job might not be political like a sheriff’s could be, but he knew the people of his new home town would be watching him closely his first week on the job. He’d have to handle things carefully. He tipped back his chair, and drummed his fingers along the wooden arms.

 

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