Her Reluctant Groom (Groom Series, BOOK 2)

by Rose Gordon

  With shaking fingers, Emma reached forward and plucked the paper from Marcus. Unfolding it, she gasped. “You…” Her voice faded as her eyes scanned the page.

  “I would have been here sooner, Emma,” Marcus said solemnly. “But I’ve spent the last week riding across the English countryside trying to hunt down the Archbishop of Canterbury to get this special license.”

  A fresh wave of tears flowed from Emma’s eyes. “Why didn’t you send me a message?”

  “I did. It just didn’t reach you in time.”

  “No, but you did,” Emma said, leaning up to kiss him.

  “With a stroke of luck, I sure did. A moment later, and I’d have had one hell of a time trying to get Sir Wallace to agree to annul your marriage.”

  Emma laughed and shook her head. “Good thing you made it here, then.”

  “Yes, it is. Now let’s get married.”

  Chapter 26

  Alex clapped Marcus on the back as he walked through the door of Watson Townhouse. It had been a long, long time since he’d been inside this house. If he remembered right, the events that led up to his coming to Watson Townhouse the last time were not nearly as favorable as they were just now. He cast a glance over at Caroline and smiled. Who knew the young girl with the bleak future would have ever found the type of love that lasted a lifetime?

  “This scene looks rather familiar,” Emma said lightly, allowing Marcus to intertwine his fingers with hers.

  “Yes, it does,” Marcus agreed with a chuckle as he looked around and noticed that with the exception of Alex’s mother and deceased father, this was the exact same group who had assembled last year for Alex’s wedding. Even Drake’s three little girls were present.

  “Come along, you two,” Mr. Grimes, the replacement vicar, called from the drawing room.

  Marcus walked in and blinked. “It’s different.”

  “Thank heavens,” Brooke, Lady Townson, one of Alex’s cousins, said with a bright smile. “It seems Caroline actually has taste.”

  Caroline smiled sadly. “I do miss Edward and his unusual ways. However, for as much as I miss him, I’m glad Alex allowed me to redecorate. I cannot imagine holding a wedding in this house if it had still been decorated so wildly.”

  “I can,” Paul and Liberty Grimes said in unison, eliciting several chuckles from the group.

  “Our wedding was held in the foyer just below the stairs,” Mrs. Grimes explained.

  “Gads,” Marcus said with a shudder.

  “Exactly,” Mr. Grimes commented.

  “Well, enough reminiscing,” Marcus said, hoping they’d all take the hint and Mr. Grimes would progress with the ceremony. He was ready to be married and carry Emma off to his freshly aired townhouse.

  Mr. Grimes took his spot in front of Emma and Marcus and, without any further ado, began the ceremony.

  Marcus barely paid attention to the vicar’s words. He just nodded and mumbled when he thought he was supposed to. The majority of his attention was focused on Emma. She was so beautiful, standing across from him as she recited her vows. He was mildly surprised she’d agreed to marry him today. But thankful, nonetheless. He’d made a terrible mistake sending her away, and he was more than prepared to spend the rest of his life making it up to her. Starting tonight.

  He shifted and sent the vicar a pointed glance. He might have been displeased last year when Alex made a remark at his wedding to Caroline about what would be happening later that night, but now he knew the excitement of wanting everyone to vanish and leave him alone with his wife.

  Mercifully, Mr. Grimes kept it short, and Marcus was able to think up an excuse to leave without staying for a meal. He’d wasted far too much time away from Emma; he didn’t want to wait another minute to have her in his arms again.

  “Someone’s awfully anxious for his wedding night,” Emma teased when he sat next to her inside the carriage.

  Marcus grinned. “Yes, I am,” he stated proudly. He wondered if Caroline or Louise had spoken to her about what to expect. He frowned. Either source was likely to overwhelm her with information, Caroline’s information being too scientific, while Louise would probably make marital intimacies out to sound like something one would find in a brothel. “About tonight,” he began uneasily.

  “No need to discuss it,” she said. Her cheeks turned pink. “I know in detail what’ll happen. Or what you’d like to happen, rather.”

  “Pardon?” He wasn’t sure which part of her words he was responding to, the part about she already knew in detail what to expect, or the cryptic statement he took to mean they may not be sharing a bed tonight.

  Tucking a tendril of her blonde hair behind her right ear, Emma licked her lips. “I…uh…I’ve been informed.”

  “Good,” he said slowly. “Do you have any questions?”

  “None,” she said pertly, not meeting his eyes.

  He wanted to ask who’d informed her so he’d have an idea of what she might have been told, but didn’t want to press. He sighed. “Are you still angry with me?”

  She met his eyes again, and in those emerald depths, he knew the truth: she wasn’t angry, she was furious.

  It was a few minutes before he spoke again. “Why did you marry me today if you’re still angry with me?”

  “Because I love you, Marcus. I may not be overly thrilled with what you’ve done, but I do love you.”

  “We could have waited,” he told her softly, exhaling sharply.

  She shrugged. “Today, tomorrow, it doesn’t matter. My feelings for you won’t change. I’ll still love you. I’m just hurt by what you did.” She turned her face away, but not before he glimpsed the tears shining in her eyes.

  His heart clenched. He knew he’d have a lot to make up for, but he hadn’t realized just how much he’d hurt her. “Emma,” he whispered hoarsely. He gathered her into his arms and froze, unable to say another word as her body trembled and shook with sobs.

  ***

  Trying in vain to stop her onslaught of tears and sobs, Emma sat on Marcus’ lap as the carriage rolled down the streets of London to his townhouse. She was just as ready to leave Caroline’s as Marcus had been, but she wasn’t ready to be alone with him. Not yet anyway.

  This morning she was convinced he truly wanted nothing more to do with her, and then he had turned up, stopped the wedding, and married her all in one day. It was too much. Of course she still loved him. That was why she had married him right away. But it didn’t mean she wasn’t still hurting. For some reason, as soon as she’d climbed up into the carriage and looked at him, all the feelings of uncertainty, hurt, confusion, betrayal, and loss she’d dealt with for the past few weeks swamped her and threatened to choke her until he gave her some answers.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, trying to scoot off his lap.

  He held her firmly on his lap. “Don’t be sorry for having emotions. I’m the one who ought to be sorry for being such a cad.”

  Yes, he should. He could have spared them both a lot of heartache if he’d just accepted her love five weeks ago. Instead, they’d both suffered unnecessarily. “Why did you come back?” she whispered. He’d said something in the church, but she couldn’t really remember what it was. Now that they were alone, she’d get her answers. The real ones this time. The ones he’d be hesitant to voice in front of a large group of people.

  Though she knew it was a remarkable gesture that he’d come to her wedding and stopped it that way, she didn’t think that cleared him of his past transgressions.

  “I told you, I realized my folly,” he said simply, squeezing her tighter.

  She looked up at him and noticed his scarred jaw ticking. She reached up and ran the pad of her thumb over the puckered, uneven skin. “How? How did you realize your mistake?”

  He sighed. “I’d rather not say.”

  “Why not? I’m your wife. Don’t hide things from me.”

  “You’re right,” he acknowledged with a quick nod of his head. “It wasn’t any one thi
ng, really. It was a combination of many things.”

  “Such as?”

  Marcus closed his eyes. “I’ve had nothing but time since you’ve been gone. Of course you know Alex came to visit, and I was none too happy about who he said you were going to marry. But instead of coming to London and claiming you then like I should have, I went to see Patrick. Between those two and Gateway, I don’t really know what stuck and what didn’t. But then--”

  “What?” Emma interrupted abruptly, her brow furrowing in confusion. Usually Marcus talked sense, but his last sentence didn’t make a bit of sense.

  He sighed. “Three nights before Alex came to see me, I bribed Gateway to help me find a way into his ball without having my presence announced. He and I chatted a bit in the corner while we watched you dance with every blasted man in England. I came back home the next day, then later that week I had two more frank conversations—one with Alex, and the other with Patrick. One of those three—I’m not sure which—put in my head the kernel of a belief that you could still love me whether or not I’m capable of giving you the things other men can. From there, I spent another near month in solitude, not daring to attempt another trip to London to spy on you.

  “During those weeks, I spent most of my day reflecting on the letters I continued to receive from Olivia describing her miserable life, and all I could think was she could have all the happiness she wanted if she’d just take a good look at everything she has.” He paused and shook his head. When he looked at Emma again she saw the truth of it: he’d been hurting just as much these past months as she had. He cleared his throat.

  Still and silent, Emma almost groaned in vexation when the carriage came to a stop. Of course she would have liked him to keep explaining his reasons, but they could finish the conversation inside. They would be married for the rest of their lives, after all.

  “Would you care to join me?” Marcus asked as soon as he descended the carriage and reached up to help her down.

  She smiled. “I may not be persuaded yet to share your bed tonight, but I don’t have any intention of sleeping in the carriage.”

  “Good. I shudder to think of how much my leg would hurt if I were to try to cram in here next to you.”

  She allowed him to help her down, then turned back to look at him. “Where will I be joining you?”

  “My bedchamber.”

  “This isn’t some sort of seduction, is it?” she asked, coming to a halt.

  Marcus shook his head. “Not unless you want it to be.”

  “You’ve a lot to answer for.” She gave him a stern look.

  “And I intend to answer anything you ask,” Marcus said. He reached his hand over and gave hers a gentle squeeze.

  As soon as Emma crossed the threshold of his downstairs bedchamber, she dropped her hand from his arm and took a seat on the plush, green velvet chair that was positioned by the window. She was nearly certain he would have preferred she sat on the settee at the end of the bed, or even on the bed, but at least she was in the room. That was as much leeway as she was willing to give him just now.

  “I’m listening,” Emma said at last, prompting him to get about explaining his sudden change of heart.

  Marcus sighed and fell onto the settee at the end of his bed. “Emma, I’ve loved you for years. Far longer than I can remember, really. Perhaps even when we were children, I loved you and just didn’t know. But what I do know is that I love you, but I’ve never felt worthy of you.”

  “Worthy?”

  “Yes, worthy.” He reached up and ran his hand through his hair. “To me, you’re perfect. You always have been. I thought…I thought…I thought, you being perfect, that you deserved the perfect life. A life I cannot give you.”

  “But I told you I didn’t care.” Her eyes stung with tears at the memory of the last time she was at Ridge Water with him and he couldn’t get her out of his house fast enough, followed by five miserable weeks of longing for him.

  “I know,” he acknowledged softly. “I know.” Shifting in his seat, his eyes never left hers. “I know what you said, but I thought I knew better. I thought you’d grow to resent me.”

  “But why?”

  “I’ve already told you why. I didn’t want to condemn you to a lonely existence, which is exactly what you’ll find with me.” A self-deprecating smile took his lips that made Emma shake her head.

  “You may be a recluse, but you do have a personality. One I happen to like as a matter of fact. I just don’t understand your thinking,” she continued, shaking her head. “I told you I loved you anyway. I told you I didn’t care about having a house full of screaming brats. All I care about is you, Marcus.”

  “I know—”

  “Then if you know, why did you not accept it? Why do you doubt my love for you at every turn?” she burst out in frustration.

  “I don’t,” he argued, crossing his arms. “I know you love me.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why do you constantly close yourself off to me? How can you possibly know that I love you, but you don’t accept it?”

  Cocking his head to the side, he stared at her for a moment. “I’m not sure I know the difference, but I do know you love me, and I accept it. I might have been a little slow to truly comprehend that you’d be happy—not just content, but happy—with spending the rest of your life with just me, but I did realize the error of my ways and acted before it was too late.”

  “Barely,” she reminded him with a slim smile. “Another second or two, and I would have been married to Sir Wallace.”

  “That’s not true,” he countered with a grin. “The way I see it, I still had a good thirty seconds to spare. Just because he was about to make his vows didn’t mean anything. You hadn’t made yours yet.”

  “I don’t find your observation nearly as entertaining as you do.”

  “Sorry,” he murmured. He picked up a nearby pillow, and put it on his lap. “But I did come. Please, remember that. I might have been a fool to send you away and I might have almost waited too long to come back for you. But I did. I did come back.”

  “I know that.” Emma’s throat clogged with tears. “We’ve been over why you came back. We don’t need to discuss it further. I just want to know the truth of why you sent me away. And don’t you dare say it’s because of your inability to have children. That’s not the real reason, and you and I both know it. I’ve known you for as long as I can remember. You always struck me as a sensible person who understood such a thing as the existence of a foundling hospital. So leave off the inability to father children excuse and tell me the truth.”

  Silence filled the room, choking them both. Emma bit the inside of her lower lip to keep it firm and steady.

  “I already told you,” Marcus said softly.

  Closing her eyes in frustration, Emma stood. “I believe I’ve heard enough. Goodnight, my lord.”

  Before she made it to the door, Marcus was off his seat. He closed his fingers firmly around her wrist, holding her in place. “You didn’t let me finish.”

  “You were finished. You were once again going to remind me of your ‘condition’,” she said irritably. “Quite frankly, I don’t want to hear of it again. Goodnight.”

  Marcus’ fingers didn’t relax their hold in the slightest. “I didn’t feel I was worthy of you,” he said softly. “Not only can I not give you children, but what I can give you is a constant reminder that I’d once foolishly proclaimed myself to your sister.”

  Emma swallowed and stared at him. “You mean…”

  He nodded. “I mean as much as I like to pretend I never knew Louise as anything other than an old childhood friend who I encounter in passing from time to time, that doesn’t make it true. I also like to pretend it doesn’t mean anything to you that she and I were once engaged. But I know it cannot be easy for you, especially when there’s a constant reminder of it printed on my face for the entire world to see.”

  “I’ve never cared abo
ut your scars,” Emma said quietly, hardly believing what she was hearing.

  “I know you don’t care about their physical appearance. But you have to care about the reason they’re there. I know I do.”

  “Why? You never really loved her. I know that.”

  “You do?”

  Emma nearly laughed at his expression. “Yes. I realized you weren’t marrying Louise for love but for honor the day you came to our cottage and asked if the rumors about Louise and Gregory were true. I may have only been fourteen, but I recognized the difference in you that day from the day you proposed. You weren’t the same. You didn’t really wish to marry her and were only planning to marry her because you’d given her your word.” She did laugh now. “I’d wager that forty thousand pound dowry you bestowed upon me that if your father and mother hadn’t been such champions of the match, you’d have tried to use your age as a reason for reneging.”

  His nod confirmed her suspicion.

  “Marcus, I’ve become more convinced as the years have passed, you didn’t even love her when you proposed, but you gave your word and you had to honor it.” She briefly paused and smiled as he continued nodding his agreement. “Then the day of your accident, she put you in a difficult position and you had to do something. I may not have been there that day, but I do know my sister. I can only imagine what she said to you that made you act so foolishly, if for nothing else than to save your pride. That’s the reason I shoved aside my feelings for you and encouraged her to keep her promise to you. Not because I thought you loved her or she you, but because she owed it to you. Keeping her promise and not bringing scandal and shame to you was the least she owed you for all she’d done.”

  “You had feelings for me then?” he asked, blinking owlishly at her.

  She gave an exaggerated sigh. “Marcus, I’ve fancied myself in love with you since the day we met and you pulled those dratted thorns out of my skin after Louise tripped me and I fell into your mother’s rosebush.”

  He blinked. “I remember that day.” His eyes danced with amusement and the corner of his lips tipped up. “I can honestly say, though, I didn’t share the feeling at the time.”