When Val’s arms held her, she could relax. She trusted him as she did nobody else, not even her sisters. “He tried to r-r-rape me. He said once the deed was done I was spoiled goods, and I would have nowhere to run.” Tears poured down her cheeks, but she ignored them. “I had not thought he would do anything like that. I wouldn’t have come with him had I thought that. He said he had a note from my father. I thought he had decided to give in.”
“Where is your sister?” He spoke calmly and quietly, doing much to soothe her agitated spirits.
“Upstairs with Louisa, who is having a tantrum.”
“Excuse me,” Aunt Adelaide said. “Are you content to remain here and let his lordship look after you?”
Her forehead buried against his shoulder, she nodded.
The door closed quietly as her aunt left. She should not, but they had gone way beyond propriety here. Val guided her to the padded settee set against one wall and sat her down, curving his arms around her. She rested her head on his shoulder and fought her tears. Producing a handkerchief, he gently wiped the evidence of her distress away. “He is not worth crying over.”
The events of the last ten minutes still settling in her mind, one event stood out. “He’s not worth fighting over.”
“I can’t back out, even if I wanted to. He has to be stopped.”
“He has stopped,” she pointed out. “He won’t do it again.”
“No,” Val said. “He will not.” He stroked his finger under her chin and smiled down at her. “But the events have made our marriage somewhat expedient. Marry me, Charlotte.”
He’d said that before. “Why?” She meant a million things with that word, but he only answered one.
“Because if you do not, your reputation will be damaged beyond repair. Word will get out. People will know. If I am protecting my wife, that will act as your shield. Especially if I do not come back from the Heath.”
He watched her steadily. “No!” Her revulsion was immediate and absolute. “You must come back. I won’t let you go.” If they were married, could she keep him busy? Her knowledge of bedroom behavior was, admittedly, vague, but surely if he wanted her so much she could persuade him to stay? Desperation filled her. “I can’t marry you only to lose you.”
A steady blue gaze was all she received. Then he kissed her, fierce and brief, a kiss of claiming. “Marry me,” he said.
“Don’t we have to post banns?”
He shook his head. “I have a special license in my pocket.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you. You opened my eyes that night in the garden, and although I swore I would do the right thing and let you go, I couldn’t forget you.” He kissed her again, gentler this time. “Say yes.”
“What if I say no?” One man had tried to force her into a situation she did not want already today. She had stood up to him, and she would do this now if she had to.
“Then we will find a way.”
She swallowed, refusing to allow tears to fall. “My father told us to leave. He has disowned me. My sister Sarah came for us. Without her I’d be without a home.”
“That will never happen. My family will ensure that. Your father will acknowledge you again, although you do not need to go anywhere near him.”
He hugged her when she shook her head. “I don’t want to come to you with nothing.”
“You bring me your sweet self. Anything else we will arrange another time, if you wish it. I wish for nothing other than you.”
Taking the handkerchief from him, she finished wiping her eyes. His gentle cleaning was all very well, but she needed firmer pressure. But she snuggled closer, because that felt better than anything. “Aren’t you hot in that coat?”
“Humph, maybe. I wore it to impress you.”
“Consider me impressed.” She sat up to allow him to remove the heavy item of clothing, although when he was done he tugged her back.
“One more kiss, and then we’ll find a cleric. It shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Wait.” Her mind was working again, thank goodness, and she had come to at least one conclusion. If he had a license, they could marry when they wished, but he wanted to do it now. Because if he died tomorrow morning, he would die knowing she was not the subject of scandal again.
She would not be a martyr’s widow. She utterly refused to let him go to his death thinking that he was at peace with the world.
Putting her hand on his chest, feeling his heart pound under her palm, she made her decision. “I’ll marry you tomorrow.”
His eyes flared. “Before my appointment with Kellett?”
“Afterward.” Sitting up, she blew her nose. “You will have to come back to me then, will you not?”
He watched her, fascinated, a slight smile on his lips. “You, my lady, do not play fair.”
“If I did, I’d soon bore you, wouldn’t I?”
Laughing, he caught her close and delivered a smacking kiss. “You could never bore me. How could I ever have imagined you were staid and proper?”
“I can be.” Recalling her years under her father’s yoke, Charlotte still could not imagine how she had gotten this far. Either she had spent most of her life in a dream, or the stars had finally come into alignment. “If you kill him, will we go abroad?”
He smiled down at her. “I have no intention of killing him. Why would I want to be brought to trial for such a miserable specimen of humanity? No, I will teach him a lesson.”
“Are you good with pistols?”
“Tolerably.”
Her mind still spun, trying to accept everything. “How do your parents feel about you marrying me?”
He hesitated.
She nudged him. “Tell me.”
“They are not in favor of it.” He touched her chin, tilting it up so she had to meet his gaze. She had never seen those blue eyes so tender before. For her? “I don’t care. We’ll bring them around. They know you, and once I tell them what I know about your father, they will approve even more.”
Alarmed, she tried to sit up, but he urged her back, murmuring softly. “What will you tell them?”
“That he is a worse tyrant in private than he is in public, and that he controlled you through your sister.”
“He could do that still.”
“Not once you’re an Emperor.”
If she became an Emperor.
Despite Val’s urging, Charlotte utterly refused to marry him that day.
However, she understood that she had to do it soon. Tomorrow she would be the subject of scandal once more, and this time would be worse. If people knew Val and Hervey were fighting over her, her name would be trampled into the dirt. Half of society had heard them discuss her. People would make the assumption. Besides, they already knew about the card game.
Although she kept a brave smile firmly in place, Charlotte cared deeply for the loss of her reputation. The scandal made her vulnerable, and she doubted that her father had finished trying to bring her under his control. He would certainly try to separate them from their brother and hurt them that way. She would write to George as soon as she could. Perhaps tonight. That would take her mind off the ordeal ahead.
If she married Val, she would become an Emperor, a member of the most valued family in the country. Their influence covered the land in breadth and depth. They had fingers in every pie, from property to mining to shipping. Val’s mother was one of five children to the old Duke of Kirkburton, and they had all married well. That made for roots that ran deep and wide. Her father would not want to be left out of those connections.
Val accompanied her upstairs to the two rooms Sarah had bespoken. When they had realized Louisa had left her toys behind, Aunt Adelaide rushed back to the house while they waited here before leaving on their long journey north. Although they were cramped, and the furnishings more practical than fashionable, nobody cared, because they were to leave first thing in the morning. The bare floorboards had gaps big enough to push pennies through, and the beds
were so solid the horsehair mattresses made little difference to their rigidity.
Louisa, presented with her favorite doll, was caressing its tousled hair and holding it tightly, as if daring anyone to take it from her. Nobody here would.
Sarah’s husband was there, too. Sarah had favored him for years, thinking their father would relent. Sam Heath was a strongly built man with eyes that at the moment were more harassed than displaying his habitual kindness. He had not witnessed Louisa’s tantrums before, and when she’d flung herself headlong into one, she had woken the baby, who had started to scream.
Charlotte had been glad to accompany Hervey downstairs to a private parlor when he’d appeared requesting a private interview. She’d thought he had only come out of the goodness of his heart. Even when she’d informed him that the previous contract was still in place, he assured her that was merely a formality, and then he had truly frightened her.
She had realized she was vulnerable in this room, with the sound of the inn drowning out any cries for help and no chaperone anywhere close by. But she had not expected such a forceful attempt to make her bend to his will. He had torn her gown in his efforts to get to bare skin, telling her roughly, “Hold still, damn you!”
Val took one look at the rooms allotted to the party and shook his head. “This will never do. I’d like to escort you to my parents’ house. We have much more room there, and it is more appropriate for you.”
Sarah shook her head. “Charlotte is a single lady, sir. Her reputation has been compromised enough.”
“No matter,” Val said. “My brother Darius and I will sleep at our club. Charlotte has done me the great honor of agreeing to marry me tomorrow, so we will not be in such a precarious situation after that. Allow me to send a note ahead of our arrival, if you please, and we may gather your belongings.”
Sarah’s broad smile told Charlotte what that meant. “Sir, I am delighted by your news. That you would support my sister despite her troubles speaks a great deal for your character.”
Val took Charlotte’s hand and squeezed it. “I never thought of doing anything else.”
Although Sarah and Sam protested the move, Val was firm. “Lady Louisa will be much happier in a room of her own with her belongings around her. Do it for her sake.”
Reluctantly, they were brought to agree. Val scrawled a quick note on the uneven paper with the sooty, gritty ink that was all the inn provided and sent one of the potboys from the inn to deliver it.
Packing did not take long. However, Val asked Sarah to accompany Charlotte and himself to his home, promising to send the family carriage back for the others. His control of the situation was nothing short of masterful. Charlotte had never seen him like this, calmly in control, forgetting no detail.
The little rooms were horribly stuffy. If they opened the windows, the racket going on outside and the unmistakable odor of life lived in close quarters, coupled with the aroma of horses close by were added to the atmosphere. A night spent here would have been difficult, but Charlotte, relieved of her father’s strictures, would have endured it gladly. Sarah and Sam had traveled post, so they had no carriage of their own to concern them.
Charlotte was still trying to control her emotions and assess what had happened here.
They arrived at the Shaws’ London house to find everything miraculously ready for them. The marchioness welcomed them as if they were honored guests, while Val had a private conversation with his father, all smiles.
Charlotte found the new situation bewildering and confusing, but she was determined to see him and try to bring him to his senses.
After unpacking her meager belongings and changing her clothes, they went down to dinner. Charlotte blinked at the way the family accepted the situation. Even the marquess barely blinked at the extra covers laid for dinner and engaged Sam in deep conversation about Mr. Pitt’s intentions for war.
Louisa and their relative remained upstairs, Aunt Adelaide having declared the girl had enough excitement for one day.
The Shaw family was a daunting collection of people, but their behavior at dinner shocked Charlotte. Never in her life had she attended a less formal meal. The members of the family sat where they pleased, with the marquess and his wife at the top and bottom of the long mahogany table. They chattered, instead of asking permission to speak, or answering a question. Their enthusiasms were many and varied, except once the marchioness frowned when Livia brought up the subject of a particularly gruesome murder, whose perpetrator had just met her deserved end at Tyburn.
That was the day Val had rescued her from the milliner’s shop. Charlotte should send the kind lady a note, telling her she would not require her generous help anymore. When Val pressed her hand briefly before replenishing her water glass, Charlotte knew she was not the only person to remember that day.
How would she cope with this man in her life? Her lurking fear, that he would tire of her and move on, still haunted her but she had no choice now. She had to go forward and learn to live with what she had. There was no way back, even if she wished for it. And living with Sarah? To become a respectable, modest spinster living in the countryside? Once that was a dream she cherished, but now, she wanted more.
Just before Lady Strenshall rose to lead the ladies to the drawing room, Val cleared his throat, and clasped her hand. “Charlotte and I are to marry tomorrow,” he said calmly.
Only Darius appeared unmoved, watching his brother from his seat across the table, his gaze hooded.
After a silence, Lady Strenshall sat and said quietly, “Why the haste?” Her voice was completely steady and calm, but tension underlay it. Charlotte, used to noting and responding to changes in mood, felt the air change.
“Lord Kellett appears intent on creating trouble. Although Darius and I are leaving the house after dinner, he will no doubt claim impropriety.” He paused, and under the table, his grip on her hand tightened, as if he were refusing to let her go. She did not try. She had already made her choice.
“Why?” That was his father, rapping out the question.
“Because he wants her. He will stoop to any level to have her.”
To her shock, the marquess addressed Charlotte next. “And is this what you want, my dear? We can create an alternative for you. It would not be amiss if you were to visit us outside London and we have more than one estate, you know. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish.”
Charlotte was tired of the delays. Either she did this or she went forward to an uncertain future. “My father favors Lord Kellett, but I do not. I would rather have Val.” She ended her words on a gasp when she realized she’d used his first name instead of his title. To her knowledge, she had never done it in public before.
“Then you shall have him, my dear.” The marchioness sounded completely in control now. “It will be thought odd not to have a wedding breakfast, but if you do not object, we shall say that you are ill. A severe cold will serve. That does mean you cannot appear in society for a week or so.”
Val smiled at her. “That will serve us very well.”
The thought of facing society so soon after her wedding made Charlotte quail in fear. She would need time before she did that. Although weddings tended to be private affairs, the wedding breakfast could be a large society arrangement. But an illness would work.
If she ever married at all. Neither Val nor Darius had spoken of the fateful event scheduled for dawn. If she had agreed to marry him today, she could be a widow tomorrow.
The marquess sighed. “I would like one of my children to marry in the conventional way, after a decisive courtship, a wooing and a marriage contract. No delays followed by a hasty marriage, no runaway marriages we have to explain away.” He glared at his oldest son. “But as the matches are turning out to be unusually successful, I daresay I have to learn to live with my children doing as they please when they please.”
Charlotte’s father would have made a speech, probably an hour long, and refused to allow anyone else to speak.
He would most probably have made his children stand for the rest of the meal. The marquess, on the other hand, used a great deal of resigned amusement when he spoke. He actually expected his children to have opinions of their own.
Could she join this world? Would she ever feel as these people did, become one of them?
The marchioness stood once more. “I believe we should all strive to get an early night. Tomorrow looks to be a surprisingly busy day. Ladies, we have work to do.”
When Charlotte stood, Val stood with her. “I would like a short interview with my bride-to-be.”
The marchioness rolled her eyes. “Ten minutes, and then I expect to see Charlotte in the drawing room.”
Val led Charlotte to a small but exquisitely furnished room. He closed the door and watched her taking in the treasures lined up in the glass cabinets that formed the room’s main furnishings. “This is my mother’s treasure room. She calls it her toy room.” He followed her to where she stood in front of a case containing a collection of jeweled and enameled boxes, some with tiny paintings on their lids. The flickering candlelight from the branch Val had collected from a servant on their way in made the stones glitter and dance. “These are astonishingly lovely.”
He slid his arms around her waist. “So are you.”
Whatever else had happened today, she had not changed in appearance. “I am ordinary. I pass muster, Val. I have eyes.”
“My eyes tell me something that yours do not. If I call you lovely, you are.” Pushing a curl aside, he kissed her neck softly.
She turned around, but he did not move back. “I want honesty,” she said.
“You shall have it.” He watched her gravely.
“Tomorrow you will not kill him, will you?”
“I will do my best not to. I have no desire to be hanged for killing that man or forced to flee abroad. But he needs to be stopped. He needs to know he cannot run roughshod over everyone he meets.”
“You mean me.”
He hesitated slightly before he said, “Yes, of course. You.”
He lowered his head to kiss her but she was not done yet. “And you will not let him hurt you.”
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