An Unwilling Baroness

by Harris Channing

  Fredrick took her hand and bowed. Rising he smiled, that devilishly boyish smile that she was certain had won the heart's of many a silly maiden. "Miss Lockwood, so good to see you again."

  Belle tilted her head and offered a blank stare. "I'm sorry, Von Richter, was it? I don't recall meeting you before."

  Fredrick pursed his lips. "Belgium, five years ago," he reminded, but his tone was not so pleasant now. Obviously, he wasn't used to being forgotten.

  She laughed, the sound a pleasant tinkle. "I'm certain you're right, sir. Please forgive my poor memory. I meet so many people in my travels and five years is a lifetime ago."

  Chloe watched the exchange, pleased that someone besides her found the woman to be annoying. Fredrick’s expression grew dark, his dislike palpable.

  As if sensing his ire, Belle pulled her hand from Fredrick's grip and set her cool, green-eyed gaze on Chloe. Upon eye contact, any warmth in the porcelain complexion evaporated. "And Chloe, I feel as though we've already met. You're all Jude talks about when the subject of his family is discussed."

  The woman's glorious face dazzled when a smile crossed her full, crimson lips. Chloe sucked in a deep breath as jealousy coiled around her already roiling stomach. "He's so lucky to have a sister like you." Belle wrapped her arms around Chloe and squeezed. "Perhaps you and I will become like sisters, too."

  Chloe leaned in, hoping her discomfort wasn't apparent. She slid her gaze toward Jude, his expression not what she expected. Where was the happiness at her meeting Belle? Why was it he looked at her through somber eyes?

  "That would be splendid," Chloe replied, knowing full well, that there would only ever be rivalry where this woman was concerned. There was something about the perfect creature that had her fearful for her beloved Jude. There was no goodness in her. Had he fallen for her just as her father had fallen for Dorothea? Could he not see past the glorious façade? Or did the problem lie at her feet? Was she so envious that she missed the true goodness in the woman?

  Belle pushed Chloe away, the smile still poised on her face as if it had been plastered there. Slipping her hand around Chloe's arm, she pulled her down the path. "Miss Pembridge, you must tell me all of Jude's little secrets. If I am to make him a fine wife, I must study him as an artist studies his models."

  "One moment!" Fredrick's voice erupted from just behind her. The unexpected sound echoed through the trees, sending a flock of birds screaming into the sky. Still, despite her initial alarm, she was glad he stopped them. She had no desire to discuss anything more pressing with Belle than the weather. She certainly didn't wish to talk about Jude. What she shared with him belonged to her and was meant for no one else.

  "Oh Baron!" Belle dropped her grip and turned to face him. "You scared me."

  Chloe too looked at him. His face registered his anger, his full attention on the blonde. "I beg your pardon," he said, his tone lightning. "But you must not run off with Lady Pembridge." He offered his hand. "Come to me, won't you Chloe?" he asked, his gaze soft upon her.

  Relief swept through her. He had come to her rescue. She smiled and went to him, her small hand secure in the warmth of his large, strong grip. "Jude, Miss Belle, you're arrival interrupted a sweet moment."

  Chloe looked to Jude. He had been so quiet since introducing Belle. And now, his somber face turned to stone. What the devil was the matter with him?

  "And what, pray tell, did we interrupt?" he finally said. His tone too was cold. Was there no warmth left in the man who used to exude contagious joy? Where had he gone? For she missed him intolerably.

  Fredrick pulled her too him, his hand sliding possessively around her waist. She didn't know how she felt about the contact. It seemed far too personal…but she had agreed to marry him. Wouldn't she belong to him soon enough? Still, she leaned away, her body unused to such an overwhelming touch.

  Jude's gaze traveled the length of the pair, his jaw twitching. He was angry. She had seen it before. But she didn’t understand why. What was going on?

  "Lady Pembridge…Chloe, has agreed to marry me."

  The smile that crossed Jude's face could only be described as frigid and disapproving. Damn him! He had pushed her into this man's arms and now he was angry? His attention came to rest solely on her, the bitterness of his countenance had her mind reeling. Why? Why did he send invisible loathing toward her? Isn't this what he said he wanted? Isn't this what they all wanted?

  "Congratulations!" Belle interjected, her bubbly voice grated on Chloe's overtaxed and overtired nerves. Oh to be at Pembridge House and away from all of these silly games.

  "Yes," Jude agreed with a nod. "Congratulations, Chloe. You have made my mother the happiest of women."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  My but it was good to be home. Lowering her aching limbs into the steamy hot tub, Chloe longed for the water to wash away the day. Too much had happened. Had she really agreed to marry Fredrick? Met a woman she loathed for no other reason than she had Jude's heart? And in the process lost another bit of her best friend? Soon, there would be nothing left between her and Jude save his anger and her confusion.

  "Dear God," she mumbled. Of all the goings on, the thing that bothered her most was Jude. He was causing chaos in her mind where there needn't be any. She bit back her irritation and determined the next time she saw him, he'd explain himself. By God, he'd let her know what was going on in that beautiful head of his.

  Sinking lower into the water she closed her eyes, glad the day was nearly over and that the picnic would be the last time she'd see Fredrick for a week. He had pressing business in London and she needed time to think.

  "Oh," she moaned. Everything that had happened was just too much for one miserable soul to bear without a hot bath and lavender soap.

  "Miss?" It was Maggie's voice calling through the door. "Can I come in, please?"

  There was urgency in her tone that had Chloe reaching for her towel. "Yes, of course."

  Maggie rushed in, her breathing harsh, her face crimson. "It's the young master and your baron," she said. "They're out in the courtyard, Miss. They're fightin'! Fists raised."

  "What are they fighting over?" Chloe asked, quickly drying her body.

  "Cook said it was about a woman." Maggie's mouth dropped open. "You don't suppose they're fightin' over you? Oh, Miss, that would be scrumptious!"

  "Maggie, stop that," Chloe scolded, but inwardly admitted that indeed, having Jude fight for her would mean ever so much. Dear God, she oughtn't to wish for that. It was wrong, evil. Oh, but she did wish for it. With all her heart.

  "Well, Miss," Maggie said, rushing to her side with a fresh gown. "Your fella is bleeding from his nose."

  "Jude?" she said, her hand flying to her mouth. "Is he hurt awfully badly?"

  Maggie's brows joined in obvious confusion. "No Miss…Von Richter, he's bleedin'."

  The heat of embarrassment flooded her cheeks but she didn't stop to explain herself. For Maggie's face softened, her eyes offering a knowing expression. She knew where Chloe's heart belonged, probably had before she, herself had realized it. Stepping into her gown, she stifled a groan as the fabric stuck to her wet skin. "We must hurry."

  "Aye Miss. We best or it'll be done afore we get there."

  ***

  Chloe pushed the damp curls from her face, her bare feet slapping against the marble floor of the entryway as she made her way toward the courtyard. Judging by the loud cheers and jeers she hadn't missed the fight. Her heart clenched, for she hoped she had. Yet worry pressed her to the door and she opened it without hesitation. Shoving her way through the small gathering of onlookers, horror met her eyes.

  Both men were cast in shadow as the setting sun pressed against them. Standing in the center of the courtyard, their battered faces bore strong proof of the battle. Jude's left eye swollen shut. Blood coursed thickly from Fredrick's nose. They squared off, leaned in, both with their fists raised to attack.

  Lifting her skirt she rushed into the fray, wanting only to
make it stop. Her heart ached at the sight of Jude and despite her brain reminding her that it was Fredrick she should protect, all her instincts screamed that she rush to Jude's aid.

  "Stop it!" she shrieked, placing her body in between the warring pair. With her arms up, she pressed each of her hands into the men's chests. "What in the name of all that's holy is the matter with you two? What's this about?" Her gaze slid from one man to the other, and each slowly looked away, Fredrick toward the front gates, Jude, at the ground. "The pair of you out here sparring like little boys, each claiming the other is your friend. Well, I'll tell you boys, friends don't pummel one another."

  Jude pulled a handkerchief from his vest pocket and offered it to Fredrick. "Here man, you're bleeding all over yourself."

  Fredrick grunted and lifting his arm, ran his sleeve beneath his nose. "I'll take nothing from you, Jude." He looked to Chloe, his mouth dipping into a deep frown. "I'm sorry, sweet." Turning, he walked away.

  She watched him go, battling against what she should do and what she wanted to do. Her gaze came to rest on Jude and what she should do lost her inner battle. "What happened?" she whispered. "The picnic ended well."

  Jude took her by the arm and pulled her toward the stables and away from the onlookers' curious stares. "Back to work with the lot of you!" he shouted and once in the shadows, he set his full attention on her.

  "What happened?" She asked again, this time her words coming out in a trembling rush. Whatever it was that was coming, was bad. She felt the icy fingers of fear constrict her throat.

  "H-he attacked Miss Lockwood's character," Jude explained and looked past her. Her stomach plummeted. The fight she'd secretly hoped was about her, had been about Belle. She should've known she could never have aroused that much passion in Jude. "And I couldn't allow him to besmirch her."

  "What did he say that was so horrible you hit him?" Her lower jaw quaked and she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chills that coated her damp skin.

  Jude shook his head and raked his fingers through his chestnut curls. "You're a lady and don't need to be exposed to such. Besides, you’re to marry him. You don't want that ghost hanging over your marriage."

  "No, I would rather have none of this hanging over my marriage. But if you don't tell me, I'm certain what I imagine is far worse than the reality."

  Jude blew out a frustrated breath. "I hardly doubt that."

  Chloe stared into his face, her chin lifted. "You tell me, or I'll find out from Fredrick and if he doesn't tell me I'll confront Miss Lockwood."

  He leaned against the stable wall, glaring at her. "You don't need to know. What's done is done."

  "It's not for you to tell me what I need, Jude." If he knew what she needed, upon his arrival from America, he would've offered his help, his hand, and his support. Instead, he pushed her away and into the arms of a stranger.

  "So you'll not only strip me of your friendship, and my manhood, now you'll tell me that I can't even try to protect you?"

  "Strip you of my friendship?" She fought back a bitter laugh. "You have had little or no regard for my feelings since you returned home. Now tell me so I go into my marriage knowing what sort of man I'm dealing with."

  "Fine." Jude let out a low, feral growl. "He says that he and my fiancée were intimate five years ago. That he had every intention of marrying her when she disappeared."

  Chloe sighed. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course, she wasn’t. She was disgusted. Disgusted with Belle. With Fredrick and with Jude. "So, she's had not one of you, but both of you?" Her ire rose. This would not do. They fought over the woman because she aroused such passion that they couldn't control themselves. Meanwhile, on the day she acquiesced to marry a man she didn't love, she became an afterthought. Someone cast aside and unworthy of a punch in the nose.

  "Once a rake, always a rake." She fought the urge to slap him. "Goodbye, Jude. I hope you find your happiness. I fear there is none for me. I am surrounded by vipers and feral dogs." She turned to flee but he caught her arm, stopping her.

  "You're wrong about me, Chloe."

  Jude swallowed so hard she could see the bounce of his Adam's apple. He clenched his jaw and looked past her.

  She gazed up at him with loathing. "If only I were." Jerking free of his grip, she raced toward the house, small stones digging into the flesh of her bare feet.

  As she pulled open the door, she rushed past Dorothea, the woman's scowl deep. "What is happening? I lie down to nap and the world comes crashing down."

  Chloe kept running. She had answered to Dorothea for the last time.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The night was chilly and the moon cast strange shadows across the road. Eerie shadows that moved in the ever blowing breeze and promised sinister, waking nightmares. Oh, she'd read one too many novels.

  "Shadows are powerless…it's people who are sinister," she argued and Sebastian tossed his head, as if in disagreement. Despite her misgivings, Chloe urged him further away from Pembridge House. With each step the steed took, guilt's grip tightened, for she'd deserted her family. But she could not martyr herself. She would not watch as Belle married the man she loved and she refused to be Fredrick’s second choice. She couldn't be the charwoman her father used to clean up his mess. Her life was hers and by God she'd live it, even if it meant living it as a governess or a housekeeper.

  Turning onto the road that would take her to London, her first stop would be her Aunt Betsy's townhouse. There she'd garner the support of her mother's sister before deciding exactly what to do next. Aunt Betsy, her mother's younger and only sibling. The last connection she had to the beloved woman. Surely, she'd aid her in her escape, for there was no love between her aunt and her father.

  Sliding her hand over Sebastian's neck, she just hoped she could make it into the city without coming upon a robber or horse thief. Perhaps she should've stolen Daisy. The old girl wasn't worth near what Sebastian was and would garner far less attention. Still, leaving him was like leaving behind the only piece of joy that remained in her existence.

  Yet, being on the lonely road had her heart thrumming hard against her ribs and her hands tight in the reins. "I suppose I should've thought about this a little more," she mumbled, her only reply the wind as it whipped the trees that lined the road into a frenzy.

  Clucking Sebastian, she pressed him into a trot, for the faster he moved, the more quickly she could arrive at her aunt's. The trip to London generally took three hours by carriage. Surely, she and Sebastian could make it there in less time. Of course, if she went as the crow flew it would be even faster. But did she dare?

  At the sound of thundering hooves at her back, Chloe turned to see a lone rider coming up fast and hard behind her. Dear God, what did he want and why did he fly on his steed as if he were a demon escaping the sulfur laden depths of hell?

  Perspiration sprang from Chloe's forehead and she knew. Dear God, knew she'd made a mistake in running away in the middle of the night. Was this a highwayman coming to steal her purse, her horse, her life? She pushed her heels into Sebastian's sides and sent him from a trot into a full gallop. Surely, her magnificent horse could outrun any lowly thief's animal.

  As if sensing her terror, the stallion again increased his speed this time without her asking. She could feel the power of the animal and reveled in the smooth way he put more and more distance between them and the creature that followed.

  She craned her neck to see if the man had slowed, had given up, but no, he had persisted. "Damn you! Leave me alone!" she shouted.

  "Chloe, please stop!"

  Hearing her name called by this man, didn't help to calm her nerves. And who was it?

  No doubt, he was a minion of her father come to take her home. And of course he and his witch of a wife wanted her to return, for she was the key to save their kingdom. Too bloody bad for them.

  "It's me, Chloe. Jude. For God sake, let me help you."

  But hearing his name offered no relief. Sh
e didn't want or need his help. Damn him for his neglect. Damn him for fighting over Belle. Damn him for not loving her anymore.

  He called to her again, his voice etched with concern, but she refused to slow and refused to be coaxed into marrying for anything less than genuine feeling. Her mother had made the mistake of hoping for the best where her father was concerned. That left her with a broken heart and a lonely life. No. She would not repeat that and she'd never go back to Pembridge. Not for anyone, not even Jude. Finished. She was finished with the lot of them.

  Sebastian put more and more distance between them. She was winning her escape! If they continued at this pace, soon he'd be little more than a distant speck. Finally, things were going her way! Yes!

  And in the blink of an eye her joy ceased. The sound of gun shot rang clear against the darkness. Sebastian shied leaving her to tumble for what seemed an eternity before her soft body landed harshly against the packed earth of the road. What little bits of light that had invaded the black night faded into nothingness.

  ***

  Pain. Intense, gut wrenching pain. Waking from the blackness of unconsciousness should've relieved, but it didn't. Every inch of her body hurt. Her head throbbed, her back ached but it was her shoulder that demanded her full attention.

  "Chloe, say something. Please love, call me the fool that I am."

  Jude hovered over her, his touch gentle as he stroked her face. "What happened?"

  "Thank God," he mumbled and leaning in, kissed her forehead. "You took a fall from your horse."

  "No," she protested and tried to shake her head but the pain in the gesture had her moaning. "There was a gunshot."