“Father has truly conceded to this idea?”
“He has.”
She fluttered a hand over her mouth, butterflies abounding in her belly. “What if you and Winterly can’t source the funds? Roth has already set the wedding date for the end of the month. I have three weeks left in which he must be repaid and my betrothal subsequently broken.”
“Winterly and I are both determined to return within that time. Two weeks should be all we need, not three.”
“That is true.” Winterly stood in the open doorway then closed the door behind him, a faint blue-black shadow of stubble darkening his usually cleanshaven jaw, her precious cat cradled in his arms once more.
“Are you well?” she asked, searching his gaze.
“I didn’t sleep last night since this issue consumed all my thoughts.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t let my lack of sleep worry you.” He lowered Marmalade onto the corner wingchair before stalking toward her. He halted only a step away, his fists clenching at his sides as if he grappled to withhold himself from touching her. He sent her brother a sharp look at which Avery nodded and strode to the door.
“Avery, wait.” She rushed across and grabbed ahold of her brother’s arm. “You can’t leave us alone. Winterly loses all rational thought when you do, and so do I.”
“I’ll be directly outside the door, and I’ll leave Marmalade here to chaperone you. You two have five minutes in which to come to an agreement.” Her brother left and closed the door with a quiet snick behind him.
Winterly pulled the drapes across the window, the library darkening from one second to the next.
“Stay right where you are.” She swayed back and bumped into the ladder used to reach the upper rows of books, except her earl didn’t abide by her request at all. He was there in front of her, catching her around her waist and holding her steady.
“Say yes,” he whispered.
“What if you can’t procure the funds and return before the end of the month? It is a distinct possibility, no matter what you say.”
“You must trust that I will, and please, you must also say yes.”
“Exactly what is your question?”
“I must take every precaution possible with you before leaving for London. Avery and I shall be leaving tomorrow morning rather than today. That’s because I need you to agree to my coming request.”
“Which is?”
“Tonight, once all is quiet in the house, sneak away with me to Gretna Green. It is naught but a three-hour ride north from here. We can make the journey and return before dawn. Marry me in secret, without telling another soul. No one is to know what we’ve done, not even Avery.”
“Father has already told Avery that no dash to Gretna Green would be needed or desired. He said that once the loan was repaid and my betrothal then broken, once any resulting scandal has quietened, then with his blessing I may accept your proposal.”
“I was at the meeting and I am aware of what your father said, but Roth is known to be aggressive, whether that be in his business or personal dealings, and I shall be gone for twelve to fourteen days. I can’t leave without knowing I’ve given you all the protection I can, which I can only do by making you my wife. I can’t lose you, Rosamonde. I won’t lose you. I’ll never allow that to happen.”
“I understand your worry but—”
“No buts.” He pressed a finger to her lips as her cat curled between their legs. “We need never speak of the vows we take in secret. They shall only be made as a precaution and I shall lock the paperwork away.”
“Do you wish to consummate these coming vows?”
“I don’t want to risk getting you with child, not when it could be months yet until we have an actual wedding day. Certainly, the last thing I want for either of us is to be buried in scandal or shunned from Society. Once your engagement to Roth is broken, I want to see you enjoy a Season in London, to have your mother and father in town with you. I need to be able to court you properly, as a man does when he is smitten with his lady.” He dipped his head closer, brushed his nose against her cheek and whispered in her ear, “Even though these are extenuating circumstances we currently find ourselves in, you deserve all I can offer you.”
“Richard, you’ve offered me more than I could already even hope for.” She didn’t care about having a Season, only in having her family around her. “Yes, my answer is yes. I will marry you.”
“In secret?”
“Absolutely.” Her cat plopped down by her feet and purred loudly. “Marmalade agrees too.”
“I’m not certain how I shall keep my hands off you over the days, weeks, and months to come, but I shall.” Lightly, he stroked one finger down her neck before trailing over a small raspberry mole along the upper swells of her breasts where her pulse beat fiercely hard. He kissed the spot, his lips warm and his breath hot. “This pretty mole,” he murmured. “I now dream of finding more just like it on your body, and kissing each and every one. Please tell me there are others.”
“Y-Yes.” She barely got the word out. “There is another on my belly, one on my right hip, and one on my, ah, inner thigh.”
“How perfect.” Grinning, he spread one hand over her belly, then smoothed over her right hip, heat radiating out from his scorching touch, although his hand didn’t remain on her hip for long. He swept downward and pressed between her skirted legs, his smile turning dangerously dark. “The inner thigh of your left or right leg?”
“Right,” she whispered raggedly. “We only have five minutes, of which they must almost be up.”
“In the future, you’ll need a chaperone when we’re together, at all times. Marmalade will not do.” He groaned as he stroked her inner thighs, her cat’s purr getting louder. “I need to kiss you, Rosamonde.”
“Oh, Richard, please do.” She clutched his shoulders and held on tight.
“I adore it when you say my name with such breathlessness.” He thrust his hips against her hips and his mouth met hers in a hungry kiss that had her gripping the lapels of his royal blue riding jacket and clawing to get even closer to him.
A knock rattled the door. “Is all well in there?” Avery called out.
“One moment.” Winterly released her before stepping swiftly away and opening the drapes. Sunshine flared into the room and he muttered, “Come in, my friend.”
She fussed with her hair, not that it was mussed thankfully, her hat still atop her head. She then tidied her skirts and the hem of her riding jacket, just as Avery stepped inside. Her brother scooped the missive she’d received from Roth from the side table.
With it in hand, he offered it to her. “No more secrets, dear sister. Read this letter to us both. Whatever Roth has to say to you, he must say to us as well.”
“Of course.” Composed again, or as much as she could be after being left alone with Winterly for five minutes, she slid her finger under the red wax seal holding Roth’s insignia and opened the folded missive. She cleared her throat and read the words contained.
“Lady Rosamonde,
I won’t be able to return to Hillhurst Hall until later this evening. I would be honored if you would join me for a ride tomorrow morning. Be ready at ten.
Regards,
Roth.”
Brow raised, she eyed Winterly who now stared outside, his jaw tight and his whitened knuckles pressed into the wooden windowsill. “I will, of course, decline his invitation,” she murmured.
A low growl rumbled from her earl as he tipped his narrowed gaze at her. “I don’t want him anywhere near you while Avery and I are away. You will invent an illness, a rather long-standing one.”
“I already feel an ache of the head coming on.” With trembling fingers, she refolded the note. “I’m certain it shall be pounding away before too long. I’m rather susceptible to megrims and require a darkened room with no noise permitted. The ache which throbs on one side of my head lasts for days and days. I’m often violently ill and suffer from in
tense dizziness too.”
“That sounds positively, horribly, undeniably perfect.” Winterly blew her a kiss. “Stay safe.”
“I will.” She blew him a kiss back. “Stay safe yourself.”
“I’ll escort you to your chamber so you can rest.” Her brother slipped the missive from her fingers and pocketed it. “I’ll send a response to Roth on your behalf, informing him that you are unwell and can’t possibly agree to a ride, or even seeing him until you are on the mend.”
“Thank you.” She would do everything in her power to ensure she escaped Roth’s company until Winterly and her brother returned from London, although she didn’t doubt it would be a difficult feat to manage considering the upcoming events of the week and the fact that Winterly and her brother would be gone for nigh on two weeks.
She’d manage it though. Somehow she would.
Chapter 8
Following Rosamonde’s retreat to her chamber to rest, Winterly joined in the hunt with Avery. It had been difficult to keep his attention focused on the hunt and as soon as he’d been able to break away from the main group of riders, he’d returned to the hall and sent Rosamonde a note, that he would collect her as soon as night fell and the skies had darkened. He had much to do in the meantime. He’d ordered his valet to remove all markings from his carriage, then he’d instructed his driver to await him at the end of the driveway half an hour after night had fallen, the lamp extinguished, with no one to learn of his coming departure.
Both his valet and driver would never speak of what was to unfold this night and they were loyal to him, having both served him and his father before him. He also required two witnesses for the ceremony, which would be taken care of by his two men. Their marriage must be legal and binding, so that he could ensure Roth couldn’t make any claim on Rosamonde while he was away.
Certainly, no one else could learn of his elopement this night, not a single soul if he wished to keep any scandal to a bare minimum. Thank heavens Gretna Green was a mere three-hour ride from this estate so close to the Scottish Borders. They could travel there and return before dawn.
After excusing himself early from the evening meal in the dining room and wishing his mama and sister a good night, he strode to his chamber and donned a hooded cloak. Ducking through the shadows along the upper passageway to Rosamonde’s rooms, he let out a long-held breath as he finally reached her chamber door. He raised a hand to knock then halted as another shadowed form eased out from a darkened nook a little farther along the corridor. Even with her black cloak covering her from head to toe and her fur-lined hood hiding her face, he had no doubt of exactly who awaited him. She drew back deeper into the niche where she’d hidden and he swept in beside her and caught the faint outline of a partially concealed door in the shadows.
On her toes, she whispered in his ear, “There is a stairwell behind me, which the servants use. It leads to both the kitchens and the cellar. From the cellar there is a short tunnel that runs underground before coming out in the rear gardens. No one in this house ever speaks of the tunnel to another and neither may you.”
“My lips shall remain sealed.” With his need to protect her a fierce beat in his blood, he opened the stairwell door, steered her through and closed the door behind him. A candle flickered within an iron wall sconce at the bend in the stairs below. “Show me the way.”
“Of course, and mind the stairs. They might be made of stone but they’re old and crumbly in a few places.” Bunching the sides of her cloak tighter about her, she hurried downward.
Following her, he negotiated the cramped and dark space as he kept an eye both on her and his footing. He passed the lit candle on the landing then navigated the tight turn in the stairs. With his shoulders brushing the gritty stone walls, he had to stoop half over or else knock his head on the low beamed ceiling.
Rosamonde slowed next to a dark wooden door and touched the panels. Beyond the door the clang of pots and the chatter of the servants echoed back. “The kitchens are right through here, but we shall continue on downward.”
“Then let’s move, as quickly as possible.” With a hand at the small of her back, he urged her to continue down the stairs, the air turning musty and stale as it clogged his throat. “How much farther?”
“We’re almost there,” she whispered as she too struggled to draw in a deep breath. “We’re below the ground already.”
“Allow me to take the lead. In case one of the servants is fetching wine or some other such thing from the cellar.” Within the tight constraints of the stairwell, he shuffled past her, his chest brushing against her front, his hands on her shoulders as he held her steady on the step. Once he edged onto the lower landing, he halted before a paneled door and with a creak pushed it open an inch or two.
A candle burned in a holder opposite rows and rows of shelves holding hundreds and hundreds of wine bottles. He waited, one ear cocked as he listened for any possible noise. Not a sound echoed back, all remaining clear. Catching her gloved hand, her fingers so tiny within his, he tugged her inside the cellar and closed the door behind them. “Which way now?” he asked since two doors across the other side of the cellar appeared to lead in two separate directions.
“The corridor to the left leads to a large stone chamber where we store things which are small enough to carry down here. It’s rather cluttered, to say the least, since nothing is ever disposed of. The passageway on the right leads to the tunnel which will take us to the rear gardens.”
“We’ll leave this candle here since I don’t wish for anyone to catch sight of us by its light.” He’d have to negotiate the tunnel in the dark. Gripping her fingers tighter, he led the way down the passageway to the right and when the candlelight from behind them no longer penetrated into the dark, he patted the sides of the tunnel to remain on course.
He traversed the depths of the tunnel, the cloying odor of dirt and grit strengthening the farther they walked, then nearly a hundred feet on the tunnel suddenly got smaller and even tighter, until he was forced onto his hands and knees. Crawling the remaining few feet wasn’t an issue, not as a wave of fresh air blew in.
Taking care, he scrambled out the opening of the tunnel into the dark of the night, then reached back and aided Rosamonde to her feet. They’d emerged within the shadows of a clump of thick bushes with trees all around them. He took a moment to search their surroundings. A small creature scampered away in the undergrowth and a horse whinnied from near the stables. Expected noises. Turning back to his lady, he kissed her fingertips. “I would have never known this entrance was here if I hadn’t just come out of it.”
“My ancestor who built Hillhurst Hall added the tunnel as an escape route. His second wife was the eldest daughter of a Scottish laird, and she insisted on the design addition, a rather clever one at that.” She pushed her hood back and leaning saucily into him, wrapped her arms around his neck. A small trace of moonlight shimmered through the thick foliage overhead and sprinkled over her cheeks, her golden locks hidden by a red bonnet with satin ribbons tied underneath her chin. “We made it,” she murmured with a stunning smile that melted his heart. “This might be the grandest adventure I’ve ever embarked on.”
“We have only made it clear of the hall. We have a lot farther to travel this night.”
“I know.” A quick press of her lips to his cheek then she slid her hood back in place. “Cover your head, my lord. Your hood has slipped off.”
“Kiss me properly and I shall.”
“That was a proper kiss, quite suitable in fact.” She giggled and tucked his hood back over his head for him. “What arrangements have you made from here? Do we travel by horseback or carriage?”
“My carriage awaits us at the end of the drive.” Flicking a look in both directions, he ushered her through the trees toward the place where he’d instructed his valet and driver to await him.
Thankfully, the thin sliver of the moon aided them by disappearing behind clouds as they trekked down the driveway, their foot
steps crunching the gravel. Right where he’d asked his men to wait, his valet appeared.
Peterson gave him a brief nod which meant all had gone well with ensuring his orders had been taken care of. His carriage awaited him, all insignia removed and his coachman up top. The carriage had been equipped with four of his finest and fastest bays, the horses stamping their hooves in eagerness to be away. After assisting Rosamonde inside, he clapped a hand on Peterson’s shoulder. “Ensure Hocks makes all haste to Gretna Green. We must travel directly to the old blacksmith’s shop and return before dawn.”
“It is a rather fine night for travel, my lord.” With a smile, his man bounded up top and sat next to Hocks.
“A rather fine night indeed.” He stepped inside the carriage, closed the door, and removed his cloak just as Rosamonde had done. Peterson had ensured their comfort by lighting a brazier and warmth filled the cozy space. Rosamonde removed her bonnet next, along with her gloves and tucked her belongings underneath her seat. He flicked out his tails and settled himself on the lush burgundy squabs opposite his bride-to-be, his hands resting on his knees. “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes, I am.” An excited spark flared in her eyes as she jiggled a little in her seat. She took a calming breath as she clasped her hands primly in her lap, her fingers pale against the skirts of her red woolen gown.
That gown was one she’d worn two years past at one of her mother’s previous house parties, at an evening meal in which he’d been seated directly beside her. At one of her brothers’ teasing jests, she’d laughed and sloshed a few drops of vivid red wine on herself. Discreetly handing her his handkerchief underneath the table, his fingers had brushed hers as she’d accepted the cloth. He’d kept that cloth, tucking it away in his pocket after she’d dabbed the wine away. He hadn’t allowed his valet to wash it either but had stored it in the top drawer of his study desk at his townhouse. Whenever he opened that drawer, he’d reminisce about that night. All four of her brothers had been in attendance. West and William had arrived home on leave from their regiments, their fight across the channel against Napoleon a brutal one. Kipp, the earl’s second-born son who resided in London, had returned home for the week to see his family. More memories surged, and he distinctly recalled the high neckline of the gown, which was currently buttoned all the way to her chin. That night so long ago, he’d wanted to loosen a few of those buttons, as he still did now. Clearing his throat, he met her gaze. “If you wish to rest for a spell and sleep for the journey, please do so.”
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