He wanted nothing more in the world than to take her into his arms and kiss away the concern that had creased her brow. But when he moved toward her, she held up her hands and kept him at arm’s length.
“Why?” she asked, her petite chest fluttering with her quickened breath. Lightning streaked crossed the early evening sky. “All these years…why did you let them believe the worst of you?”
His reasoning had once seemed so simple. He’d done what he needed to do.
A trio of cows hurried past them, the bells around their necks ringing as the beasts sought shelter from the imminent storm.
“What else was I to do? Let Edward turn Miss Hartfield out of Callaway Abbey and leave her to struggle on her own? How could I let that happen?” Perhaps, in trying to escape his wild youth, he had been grasping for crumbs of redemption. Or perhaps it had been yet another ploy to get his father to take notice of him.
“You should have told your parents the truth!” she shouted. A surprising rage shuddered through her.
“Why? What good would have come from that?”
She shrank away. Hell, he didn’t mean to scare her. He dredged in an uneven breath and ran his hand through his hair, tugging until his scalp stung.
“Right or wrong, Iona, I chose to own up to Edward’s mistakes with the hope that my father would see that I was taking the responsible path…that he’d see me. But it didn’t work out that way. All my life it’s been the same.”
“Oh, Nathan…”
“I don’t want your pity.”
“Good, because I have no intention of giving you any.” She shoved his chest. “You are a foolish, foolish man.” She shoved him again. “And now you finally have your family. This is all your fault!”
He grabbed her wrists before she could take another swing at him. “What in blazes are you angry about?”
She blinked furiously. “If you had told your parents the truth all those years ago and let Edward’s wedding day fall to pieces, those rumors wouldn’t have torn apart your reputation.”
“And?” Nathan prodded, still confounded by her anger.
“And I wouldn’t have sought you out for lessons, because you wouldn’t have been branded a dangerous rogue in the first place. If you’d told the truth, we wouldn’t be in this trouble right now. Forced into marriage indeed!”
“That’s true. If I hadn’t done what I did, we wouldn’t be engaged right now. Instead you’d be planning a wedding with your stodgy cousin, Lovington.” He cupped her cheeks with his hands and made sure their gazes were touching. “Is that what you wanted?”
“Of course not.” But then again he already knew that.
“What has upset you, Iona? Tell me.”
“I didn’t want this!” She flapped her hands helplessly. “I thought you’d become a shameless rogue, a rake…and I had sought to use you! If not for your battered reputation, I would have never chased after you. Don’t you see?”
“I’m afraid I do.” Guilt was eating at her. She was still hiding in her gilded cage, afraid to leave the safety of the known. His graceful songbird desperately needed the freedom to fly.
“Good.” She crossed her arms and stubbornly turned her head away.
He didn’t understand it, didn’t even bother to question it but he knew deep in his heart he was the only gentleman who knew her well enough to be able to give his spirited Iona her wings.
“The scandal wasn’t your fault, Iona. The moment I saw you at the beginning of this summer I knew what I was going to do. I chased you with one goal in mind—marriage.”
“No,” she whispered.
“We’re both guilty. Does that make you feel better? You wanted to use my scathing reputation to free yourself from an unhappy engagement. I wanted to use your spotless reputation, hoping to clean some of the tarnish from mine. I hoped, rather naïvely I suppose, that if my family saw that you could accept and love me that they would too.”
“But my reputation is now as tattered as yours…and it’s all my fault. I seduced you.”
Nathan pressed a finger to her lips. “You worked a miracle for me. My father addressed me by my name and didn’t curse me with his next breath. And my mother—did you see her?—she hugged me.”
“It wasn’t me who worked that miracle, Nathan. The truth simply needed to come out. In order for those wounds to heal, the truth needed to be told.”
“Even so.” He tilted up her chin. “You fought like a beautiful harridan for my honor. I came to Bath looking for a proper wife. What I found was a daring, sensual lady. Oh, my sweet, I am the luckiest man in England.” He brushed her lips with a grateful kiss.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “And now you have everything you could possibly want.” She sounded utterly miserable about it too.
“I love you,” he insisted, pulling her into his arms. “Don’t worry about your reputation. I hope you haven’t so quickly forgotten my rogue’s lessons. As long as we have each other—and our love—we can weather any storm.”
Iona didn’t want to hear this. Couldn’t hear this. Not because she didn’t share the emotion. Her heart ached. The tender organ was filled with so much love for him it literally ached. But sometimes love wasn’t enough.
What would happen to them once they were married and her wants and desires were swept away by his life? Would she grow to resent him? To hate him for keeping her from ever discovering just how far her independence could have taken her?
It broke her heart to even imagine what that seed of resentment might grow into.
A crash of thunder shook the ground.
“There is a burning question I should have asked you over a week ago.” Holding her hand, Nathan sank down onto one knee. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Please,” she sobbed, “do not torment me like this. The first banns have already been read. The ceremony is going to be held in a week and a half. There is no backing out now.”
She ripped away from him and started to run home. Nathan chased after her, grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.
“There’s no guarantee that this course you’ve set for yourself will make you happy,” Nathan said.
“Don’t you think I already know that? Don’t you understand that I’ve been promised all my life that if I simply did as I was told and kept silent about my desires that my obedience would be rewarded? That I’d be happy?”
She stomped her pretty foot. “I’m not happy, Nathan. I’m restless. And I want more. More freedom. More choices.”
Her curled fist touched her heart. “I want the opportunity to try.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “How will I know who I’m supposed to be if I’m never given the chance to find out?”
Nathan closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. To that, he had no answer. He wanted to give Iona the sun, the moon, the stars—her freedom. How could he possibly take that away from her? She deserved to be her own person. She deserved to at least have the chance to find her own path.
He’d be no better than the bucks and beaus spending countless hours trying to seduce her into marriage if he was to take her freedom away from her. He’d accomplished what no gentleman could, he’d won her heart. But without her happiness, it was an empty victory.
“If you don’t wish to marry me, just say the word. Just say the word and I will walk away.”
“You cannot, your reputation, your family. They have only just accepted you again. Whether I want it or not, there is no backing out of this.”
“None of that matters, Iona. If you don’t wish to marry me, I will disappear from England. I will take all the blame.”
Thunder crackled just as the sky opened up and sent the late summer rains flooding down on them.
“I don’t want you coming to me out of a feeling of duty,” he said. “I would rather spend the rest of my days wandering aimlessly on the Continent than have you do that. Don’t you understand? A marriage involves two individuals working together, making decisions t
ogether and, yes, giving up their independence so they can be together.”
“I don’t want to be alone.” He barely heard her whisper.
“That isn’t enough! I’m not willing to be your least objectionable option!”
“You’re not the least objectionable—”
“If you come to this marriage with doubts, you will eventually end up hating me and yourself. And I wouldn’t be able to survive that. Not after living all these years under the heel of my parents’ scorn. So if you don’t love me and truly don’t want this marriage, have a little compassion on me and let me know now. Not after the wedding vows have been said and our union sealed.”
He steadied himself for the worst. “So tell me the truth, Iona. What do you want?”
Rain mixed with the tears pouring down her pale cheeks. She blinked up at him. “What do I want? I’ve been waiting for years for someone to ask me just that,” she said quietly.
His heart sank.
“My greatest desire has been to explore my passion for sculpture and to learn how to coax beautiful figures from stone. And I don’t want to leave my family. They have been my life for so long that I cannot imagine living apart from them.”
“I see,” Nathan said.
So that was it. This was to be goodbye. He turned to plod up the hill and back toward the Royal Crescent.
Iona grabbed his wrist. “When I thought your father was going to send you away, none of that meant anything to me. My world came tearing apart when I thought I might never see you again.”
She turned her face into the driving rain. “I know now that I am strong enough to live a life without you…”
He tried to pull away from her but she wouldn’t let him go.
“But such a world would be horribly incomplete.” She wiped the damp hair from her face. “You make me complete, Nathan.”
He gathered her into his arms and, lifting her off her feet, swung her in a wide circle. “I promise, my love, your dreams will always be safe with me.”
Epilogue
“It’s time,” Nathan’s mother said and gave his hand a squeeze.
Nathan had dreamt of this day ever since Iona had burst into his friend’s study and ignited his heart two years ago. In none of those fairytale-wedding-day dreams did he imagine he’d be feeling unduly queasy.
He emerged from the Callaway Abbey parlor and tugged on his gloves. By all accounts this morning was going to be perfect. The servants had outdone themselves, decorating the entry hall, staircase and ballroom with garlands of fragrant jasmine, honeysuckle and passionflowers. The Marquess’s cheeks were pink with health as he paced by the door, mumbling that they mustn’t be late.
“You are going to make every lady at the ceremony weep at the sight of you,” his friend, Viscount Evers, said. He pounded Nathan on the shoulder.
“Something isn’t right,” Nathan grumbled, his blue tailcoat beginning to feel too tight. His light gray breeches too loose. And he feared his white hose were in imminent danger of slipping down around his ankles.
Maryanne kissed his cheek as he plodded out toward the waiting carriage. “Everything will be fine,” she whispered in his ear. Edward, standing obediently at her side, scowled.
“If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be bumping up against the bridal party,” his mother warned as she hurried down the steps. “We can’t have that. Come along. Come along.”
“I am sorry, Mother.” Nathan marched back into the house. “But I’m not yet ready.”
* * * * *
“It’s simply nerves,” Iona’s mother said in a hushed voice to the Duke. “She will be fine once we get to the church.”
Iona dabbed her eyes, not at all sure why she was crying. This was her wedding day. And, unlike many young ladies in her position, she loved her intended. And he loved her. She was fabulously lucky. So why should her eyes be leaking so?
“Are you sure?” her father asked. “She looks damned miserable if you ask me. I won’t give her away to him if he’s going to make her this unhappy.”
“She’ll be fine.” Her mother pushed him toward the door. “The carriages are already lined up outside. Once the Portfrys have left for the church, we won’t have much time before we will need to follow. And there is still much to be done.”
“Very well,” her father said and left them alone.
“I do wish you would stop crying,” Lillian said and dabbed a handkerchief to her red-rimmed eyes. “Your tears are making the rest of us gloomy.”
“I can’t seem to stop. I truly don’t wish to weep all the way down the aisle. I truly don’t.”
“It’s simply nerves,” her mother reassured her.
“You said the Marquess’s carriages haven’t yet left for the church?” Iona asked. She jumped up from her chair. Gracie, her maid, gave a pained shout as over half the hairpins she’d used to diligently pin a long veil into Iona’s coiffure of elaborate curls sprang free.
Iona poked her head out the open window. The carriages were indeed still neatly lined up and waiting to be loaded. She heaved a deep sigh of relief.
“I have to see him,” she said and tossed open the door.
“No!” both Gracie and Lillian cried.
“It would be unseemly!” her mother shouted as she chased after Iona.
* * * * *
Before Nathan reached the top of the stairs, a flutter of silk-trimmed white muslin crashed into his chest. Out of sheer self-preservation, he wrapped his arms around the blur of pearly white fabrics and braced himself against the wall to keep them both from taking a tumble down the marble stairs.
A pair of tear-stained cornflower blue eyes blinked up at him. “I-I desperately need to tell you something,” his lovely bride-to-be said. “I’ve waited too long already.”
Nathan’s heart sank into his toes. “I was afraid of this.” Not giving her a chance to utter a sound, he scooped her up into his arms. “Before you say anything, let me first show you what I’ve done.”
With the Duchess of Newbury shouting the roof down with warnings for him to stop at that instant, Nathan charged down the stairs and out the front door. “Harry,” he called to the carriage driver, “get us to the Holme Crossing cottage without haste.”
“This is ridiculous, Nathan, put me down.” Iona beat her tiny fists against his chest. He refused to release her until he was seated in the carriage with her sprawled across his lap.
“Now see here,” the Duke of Newbury said. He swung open the carriage door and joined them inside.
“You aren’t planning to do anything reckless, are you, Son?” the Marquess asked as he climbed in from the opposite side. No sooner had the four of them settled on the carriage benches did Harry set the contraption into motion.
“We’re going to the cottage,” Nathan said. He wasn’t going to let either man bully him into changing his mind.
The countryside raced past the window. And then the village. And finally the medieval and somewhat damp stone church crowded with wedding guests.
The carriage then made a haphazard turn and started to bounce down a grassy lane.
“We’re not going to the church?” Iona asked, her eyes growing wide with alarm. “What are you doing, Nathan?”
“You will see,” he said. “I won’t have you worried about your future with me. I won’t have you standing in front of the vicar, miserable with tears.”
“But, Nathan, I was running down the stairs to tell you—”
He pressed his lips to hers in order to keep her from telling him something he might not want to hear. She had to see what he’d done for her first. Then she would change her mind. Then her smiles would return.
“Well, I suppose if we’re doling out wedding gifts,” the Marquess grumbled, “I should like to give you mine. The Holme Crossing estate and manor.”
“That is where we are now,” Nathan explained to Iona. She peered out the window. Her mouth formed a delightful moue. “Holme Crossing’s lands are adjacent to Callaway Abbey.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said as they passed over a wooden bridge and an emerald trickling stream that fed into the Trent River.
“Father is giving us permission to live in the estate’s manor house and to have control over the property’s management.”
“Oh!” Iona smiled up at him through a haze of tears. “An estate of your own to run. That is wonderful.”
The Marquess cleared his throat. “There’s more, Nathan. The estate is unentailed. And this morning I signed over the deed to you. The land is yours.”
Nathan nearly fell off the bench. “You did?”
Iona squeezed his hand just as the carriage drew to a stop.
Before anyone could move, the Duke grumbled something under his breath. “I had planned a grand speech but if we are announcing the wedding gifts now,” he said. He reached in his pocket and drew out a scroll of foolscap. “I have purchased a London townhouse in Mayfair. It’s a block from our home, Iona.” His eyes grew misty. He gruffly cleared his throat. “I expect frequent visits.”
She gingerly accepted the deed to the property. “Thank you, Papa,” she whispered.
“That is indeed generous,” Nathan said, his heart filling with joy at the sight of Iona’s returning smile. “And now, my love, I have a gift for you.”
He dropped a brass key into her lacy-gloved hand.
“What is this for?” She was frowning at the key when chaos broke out all around them. The rest of their families had chased them down and were wasting no time in piling out of the carriages.
“Where are we?” Nathan heard Lady Lillian’s shrill voice.
Once everyone was standing in front of the tidy little thatched-roofed cottage, Nathan prompted Iona, who was still frowning over the key, to open the door.
She gasped when she saw the inside. Her hands covering her mouth, she wandered into the cottage. “My art supplies.” She ran her hands over her sketchbooks.
“And the finest tools for sculpting,” Nathan pointed out. “As well as the best instructors London can provide. As I’ve been trying to tell you for the past several weeks, Thomas Barker was quite impressed with your work and he wants to introduce you to several of his friends in the artist community.”
Lady Iona's Rebellion Page 27
