“We’re here to meet Lord Paul Barstowe.” Alex kept his voice low.
A low rumble of thunder rolled overhead. Claire moved in front of him as he addressed the fellow. A gust of wind blew through an open window, and she shivered visibly. He stepped forward to close the distance between them to provide a sliver of comfort.
“You must be Lady Pembrooke.” The innkeeper smiled at Claire. “I’m Thorpe Webster, the owner. Welcome to the Black Falstaff. The gentleman is waiting in the private dining room. Please allow me to escort you.”
The innkeeper walked briskly through the small, cramped public room that led into a small hallway. The inn’s smarmy-eyed patrons watched their every move. Webster didn’t stop until he’d reached the last door on the right.
“How many are in his party?”
Webster didn’t look at Alex. “Just Lord Paul Barstowe.”
Claire didn’t blink. She glanced at Alex and gave a slight nod to indicate she was ready.
Webster used his knuckles to make a short staccato rap on the thick wooden door. “If there’s anything you need, please let me know? Lord Paul has already ordered food and drink.”
Alex put himself between Claire and the innkeeper. “No, thank you. We’ll announce ourselves.”
Alex raised his eyebrows. Claire nodded once and stepped behind him and to the side, out of the doorway.
Alex slowly turned the handle. He threw the door open and stepped inside. Several candles jumped a jig in protest against his quick entry. A nicely built warm fire lit the room.
Lord Paul stood at their entrance, then snorted in disgust. “For all that’s holy, Claire, why bring him? I’m trying to keep this exchange rational and hopefully discreet.”
“I’m delighted to see you, also.” Alex forced the urge to throttle Lord Paul back into some semblance of control. He needed answers before he unleashed his fury over Emma. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know. I thought you were her.” Lord Paul addressed Alex, but his gaze darted repeatedly to Claire.
She stood in the doorway, frozen. “Where could Emma be?” Her pale face and wide-open stare hinted at the depth of her panic.
Alex gently took her arm, then closed the door. “What did you do to convince Emma to meet you here?”
“Claire, he proves my point by jumping to conclusions.” Lord Paul shook his head. “Two hours ago, I received a note from Lady Emma asking me to meet her here. She wants a first-edition anthology of essays I have in my collection.” His gaze settled on Claire. “If she arrived here alone, no telling what type of welcome she would have received. Likely, someone would recognize her.” He slipped a note from his coat pocket and handed it to Claire.
“Why here?” Alex asked.
Lord Paul lifted his chin and trained his cold gaze on him. “She said she’d never visited a public tavern or taproom and thought it would be a grand adventure.”
She scanned the letter and handed it to Alex. “He’s telling the truth. Why would she do this?”
Lord Paul closed the distance between them. “I don’t know, Claire. I thought a private dining room and your presence as a chaperone would be the best way to keep her reputation.”
“I don’t know what to say. That was very thoughtful and considerate of you. Emma’s behavior lately is becoming increasingly odd.” Claire folded her arms around her waist. “Where is she?”
“I wish I knew.” Lord Paul’s tone mellowed into a low hum.
“You and I should try to find her,” Alex said. “Once my carriage arrives to take my wife home, we’ll leave.”
Lord Paul stared at Alex as if he were a stranger, then nodded begrudgingly. “I agree.”
Alex exhaled and returned the gesture. The rancor they had shared over the past year wouldn’t come into play this evening. Lord Paul was doing his best to help Emma. Tonight, they worked for a common cause—protect a young woman who needed their assistance.
Lord Paul gathered his coat and hat. “I’ll take the Old Post Road heading north and stop at every inn and tavern on the way.” He hesitated and narrowed his gaze on Claire. “Lady Pembrooke.” Without saying another word, he left the room.
Alex followed. “One thing before you leave.”
Lord Paul leaned against the wall as if bored with the world. “What is it?”
“Why lead me astray about Alice?” Alex asked. “Tonight you’re a chivalrous knight for a damsel in distress. Why?”
One eyebrow slowly rose. “It’s plebeian, I know”—he exhaled a deep breath—“but I once considered our friendship one of the most important things in my life. In my youth, wherever I went, chaos followed in my wake. You had the ability to calm the waters, so to speak.” He looked down and shook his head with a deadened laugh. “I was prepared to lose your friendship if it meant you’d be spared the pain of knowing Alice was pregnant by a stable boy. I always thought one day you’d figure out the truth and seek me out.”
Alex stared, not believing what he was hearing. The revelation was disturbing but comforting at the same time.
“However, you exceeded my expectations. Now, you’re the one causing chaos.” Lord Paul placed his hat on his head. “To answer your last question, I’m quite fond of Claire and Lady Emma.”
“What about Somerton?”
“Please, spare me,” Lord Paul drawled. “He’s wound up tighter than that insufferable timepiece he carries every minute of the day.” With a resigned breath, he continued, “I’ll consider it.”
With a pivot, Lord Paul strolled to the end of the hall and abruptly turned around. He regarded Alex with a slight hesitation in his hawklike eyes. “I apologize for disparaging your wife. It was the only way I could lash out at you.”
He didn’t wait for a reply and turned the corner.
Alex exhaled. After they found Emma, he’d consider Lord Paul’s answers. Right now, his wife needed him.
When he entered the room, the look on Claire’s face told him everything. She was at her breaking point. “We need to look for her separately. You should probably head south on Chase Road. As soon as Charles returns, I can search with him—”
“No. We search together. However, we’ll wait for whichever carriage arrives first, yours or mine. We’ll need it for your cousin.”
A quarter of an hour later, Claire paced back and forth before the fireplace. As Alex reached to gather her in his embrace, the door slammed against the wall.
The Duke of Langham stood before them. Anger distorted his face. He looked like a warrior prepared for battle.
As if it were second nature, Alex’s hand caressed the small of her back before he grasped her waist and pulled her into his protective embrace. Whatever rebukes the duke delivered tonight wouldn’t deter him from Claire. “Your Grace.”
“Where is she? Where’s Emma?”
“We don’t know. She’s not here,” Claire answered. “Lord Paul explained Emma told him to meet her here. He’s headed north to look for her. We’ll head south.”
“Bloody hell!” the duke bellowed. Worry flashed from his eyes. “Are you certain Lord Paul’s story is the truth?”
“Yes.” A small river of relief flowed through Alex’s veins. The duke’s wrath was for his daughter and not him. “I have my horse resting downstairs. Tell me where you’d like me to look, and I’ll leave immediately after I’ve seen Claire safe.”
“Emma is a horrible rider and can’t go long distances.” Langham pulled a map from his greatcoat. “Pembrooke—”
Charles burst into the room. The young man became tongue-tied when he saw who stood before him. The duke appeared at wits’ end, stressed and tired. “Spit it out, son. We’ve got to move quickly.”
With a catch in his voice, Charles finally conversed without stammering. “Your Grace, Lady Emma is in her bed at Langham Hall.”
“How do you know?” Claire’s voice betrayed her shock.
“My lady, the carriage broke a wheel because of the mud. I took one of the horses and rode b
ack for another. When I got there, Pitts was waiting with the news.”
“Thank God.” Claire closed her eyes. Her body softened in Alex’s arms.
The duke turned, his full attention directed at Charles.
Charles swallowed hard. “Aileen woke Lady Emma. She asked Lady Emma where she was this evening. Lady Emma said she was at Lady Dalton’s ball.”
With an unmistakable sigh of relief, Sebastian turned to Alex. “Pembrooke, thank you.” The duke extended his hand to Claire. “You need to come with me. Your aunt is distraught over you both.”
When Claire left Alex’s embrace to take her uncle’s hand, the lack of her warmth caused a roar of emotions to rush forward. He couldn’t let her leave this room, not before he made her understand. Alex’s fingers grasped her arm through the thick riding habit. “Claire, wait.”
She paused but wouldn’t face him. Instead, she studied his hand. “My lord, we’ll continue later when both of our heads are clear.”
Langham tugged her hand to signal it was time to go.
* * *
Uncle Sebastian took Claire’s hand in his to assist her into the carriage.
Claire stepped away, and her lips tickled as she felt the first hint of a smile. “I’m going to take your advice.”
“Finally, someone listens to me.” Her uncle had his own grin tugging at his lips. “Which advice are we talking about? Or would you like for me to guess?”
“I’m staying with Alex and going home.” She laughed, and the sound soothed every piece of her. There was no use holding it inside. Saying the words caused the stress and pain of the evening to lift from her shoulders. For once in her life, she didn’t feel the suffocating weight that had been her constant companion. “I love him. I’m going home.”
“I always knew you were wise beyond your years.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “You’ll be happy. Will you both come over tomorrow? Ginny needs to see you and hear it directly from you.”
“I promise.” Claire watched as he fitted his large frame through the carriage door and sat on the forward-facing bench.
He leaned down and caught her gaze. “For what it’s worth, I believe your father and mother would be very pleased with your choice and your husband, too.”
“I like to think so, too. But I thought you didn’t care for him, particularly after your altercation,” she said.
“I was rather angry that day. My hand is still bruised.” He scrunched his face as if tasting something sour, then reached across and caressed her cheek. “I saw him climb our oak tree the other night. He’s a determined devil and wouldn’t leave you alone. That’s when I knew he loved you, if he’d risk confronting me again.”
* * *
Alex rushed down the hall and outside to stop Claire from leaving with her uncle. The quiet of the inn’s entry confirmed his worst fear. He was too late. They were gone.
His earlier experiences had taught him to recognize failure. This was it. His mind flooded with the sinking revelation that he’d lost Claire forever.
The innkeeper stood by his side and gazed about. “Did His Grace leave?”
“He just left.” With my wife.
“Not often we get such a distinguished guest. I didn’t even have the chance to offer him some of our fine ale.” Webster sighed in disappointment. “Good night, sir.”
With legs made of granite, Alex found his way to the courtyard.
The black ducal carriage, well-oiled wheels still creaking in protest, had turned onto the road back to London, with Langham and Alex’s marchioness inside. How much longer would he be able to say she was his wife? He closed his eyes and bowed his head. How could he have failed in winning her back?
He started for the stables, then halted midstep. Claire stood alone in the middle of the courtyard and faced him.
He made quick work of the distance. “Are you waiting for someone?” Had he actually asked the question out loud?
His carriage arrived and stopped before them for the return trip.
“I am.” She dipped her head in a nod.
His chest tightened as he waited for her to continue.
“My husband.”
There was something hidden beneath her calm and determined visage, something he couldn’t identify, but it was something that cast him in a sea of unease.
“Charles is riding Hermes.” She glanced at the moon breaking through the clouds. “Alex, it’s time to finish whatever this is between us.”
Chapter Seventeen
Alex waited for as long as he could to prolong the inevitable. His carriage rumbled down the same path the Duke of Langham had taken. Claire sat silently across from him.
“When you first left me, I thought to fight to keep you to the bitter end. Now, I only want what will make you happy. I can offer you peace. You can go anywhere or do anything without my interference.”
The worst of his statement—or, good God, call it a confession—had escaped his lips. Nothing else mattered now. It was out. He chanced a glance at her face to see her reaction. She bent her head until it appeared to rest on her chest. Only those glorious mahogany tresses were visible. She sat so still. Time to make his final plea.
“I pray you don’t want this, but I’ll abide by your decision.” He dared to clasp her chin and raise her face to his. “You need never fear that my future actions are motivated by revenge. I’m finished with that life. My solicitors returned Lord Paul’s vowels and the deed to his estate.”
Her eyes glistened as they sought his.
“I found Mr. Mills in London. I’ve spent time with him. Enough to know you were correct. He’s a fine young man who loved Alice very much. He’s heartbroken. I’ve introduced him to Somerton, who promises to find him some investors. I’ve also invited him to Pemhill. I think Alice would have appreciated that.” He exhaled, and the exhaustion threatened to swallow him whole. He leaned forward to escape the lead weight on his chest. “Logically, I’m not responsible for her death. However, it may take my heart a little longer to believe it.”
“You’re making the right decisions, Alex. I’m so proud of you.” She took his hand in hers and squeezed.
“I want you to have something from me.” She started to protest, but he silenced her with a raised hand. “Shh, let me. I’ve donated twenty thousand to your campaign for a new children’s home. I even got Somerton to match the amount. In exchange, I negotiated the right to name the facility from your solicitor. I thought you could name it in honor of your father and mother.” He closed his eyes and exhaled. “Perhaps Wrenwood might still be needed for a daughter … our daughter.” He didn’t dare look at her for fear of rejection.
Tears streaked her cheeks. This was a hundred times harder than he’d thought. He’d cut off his right arm rather than see her suffer. If he could just hold her, maybe he could lessen her pain as well as his. However, he had to finish this.
“One more thing.” He took a deep breath to garner the strength to confess the last. “I realized you wouldn’t marry me after Lady Hampton’s party. It didn’t matter you weren’t a virgin. Neither was I, so how could I judge you? Alice had suffered because of her choice, and I would never let you go through that alone. You see, I already cared deeply for you. So much so, that if you had been carrying Lord Paul’s child, I would have accepted it as my own.” He tilted his head back and drew a deep breath, hoping it would provide some extra time with her before she discovered his duplicitous behavior. “That explains why I secretly placed the bet at White’s under my initials. Everyone assumed it stood for Lord Paul. It was the only way I knew how to keep you. It was wrong. Whatever you decide, I promise never to harm you or yours again. You have my word on it.”
He cleared his throat and swallowed as moisture gathered in his eyes.
“You’re the most important person in my life. Now and always. Even if you aren’t with me, you’ll always be cherished and at the forefront of my thoughts and all my decisions. I love you with all my heart.” With a deep breat
h, he continued, “I never knew I could feel this way until you came into my life. No matter where you are or who you’re with, my heart will always be true to you.”
His chest constricted with pain as he kissed her. His lips tightened not with passion, but with love and respect. He waited to see if she’d respond. She didn’t move or make a sound. It was much like her kiss when they’d married. The pain increased to a point he didn’t think he’d survive. He pulled back slowly, not certain how to go forward.
“I’m not going to Scotland. I don’t want a life without you either.”
He heard the words but didn’t comprehend what she was saying.
“I love you. I gave you my heart at Pemhill. When I did, I meant it forever. I take my fidelity seriously and would never hurt you.” The look on Claire’s face became tender. “You’ve seen the scars and faults I carry, and you still love me. You’ve made me believe I’m not cursed. If I was, I’d have lost you tonight on the bridge. But, I didn’t.” She reached for his hand. “You’ve given me more than I thought I’d have in this world.”
Alex pinched his brows, unsure if he could trust what he was hearing. He understood when the warmth of her smile embraced him.
“I came to you thinking I wasn’t worthy of being loved and thought I would never experience it. What became the most painful was thinking you’d never love me.”
His eyes burned, and he blinked hard. “Love, you had my heart the entire time in your possession.”
“I love you,” she whispered. Her voice was as sweet as an angel’s breath. “With everything I am, with everything I have, I love you.”
Claire’s words caused any response to lodge in his throat. The pulse in her neck beat in a wild rhythm. He reached out to feel the power of it with his fingers.
The Bad Luck Bride Page 30
