But she’d had enough of arranged marriages. There would be no more of them—either for her or for him. She would see to that.
Eight
Something insistent tugged Colin from sleep, nagging at his consciousness. As he awakened, the vestiges of a dream followed him: Eliza saying she loved him. It was only a dream, yet its sweetness tantalized him. Opening his eyes, he turned toward her . . .
She wasn’t there.
He tried not to panic as he scanned the room. She was probably just looking for the necessary or a chamber pot. “Eliza!” he called out.
No answer. He glanced at the window. She couldn’t have gone far—it was still light. Then he saw the clock. Seven. But how could that be? It was winter, and the sun set early—
Heart pounding, he leaped from the bed and rushed to the window. Oh God, it was dawn, not sunset! He’d slept for twelve hours at least. So how long had she been gone? Confound it all, where was she?
He started for the dressing room, then neared his writing table and froze. There was a letter atop it addressed to him. Trying to still the frantic rush of his pulse, he picked it up. Beside it lay two others, one addressed to his cousin and another to Mrs. Harris.
He opened the one meant for him and read:
Dearest Colin,
I have decided to return to my uncle’s. I would be most grateful if you could send by express the other letters I have left for you. I intend to stand firm against my uncle and refuse to marry Mr. Minyard until my friends come to my aid. I know it won’t be long. If I remain resolved, Uncle Silas will surely see the wisdom of not bullying me. So do not worry.
Had she lost her damned mind? She meant to tangle with her drunken uncle alone? The woman must be mad! And how was he not to worry, damn it! If her uncle had struck her once, he could easily do it again. She would risk that? Was she that desperate to escape him?
He read on, his heart in his throat:
Thank you for your generous offer of marriage, but as you put it yesterday, I cannot in all good conscience accept. You were right—you do not need another reckless female for a wife. I know your offer was meant to save me from ruin, but it is too great a sacrifice.
If we elope, you will never have your peace. Magistrates, even drunken ones, wield much power in England, and you deserve better than to have your character assaulted and your life turned upside down. You are responsible for many people, so you must think of them, too. Without me, you can continue your plans for the estate unfettered.
Unfettered? Unfettered, damn her! How could she think he’d go merrily on with his life while she struggled to deal with her treacherous uncle? Did she really think he could find any sort of peace in that?
He read the next part:
It would be one thing if you loved me, but we both know that you don’t.
“We do not both know that!” he shouted to the empty room.
The words echoed in the depths of his heart.
God help him. He loved her. He did. He loved how she challenged him at great risk to herself, how she asked questions no one would ever ask, how she gave herself wholeheartedly once she decided she cared for a person. He loved that she was clever and resourceful.
And brave. Too brave for her own good.
A chill swept through him at the thought of what she might even now be enduring because of her unselfish act. He tossed the letter aside, dressed quickly, then found his pistol—God, she hadn’t even bothered to take it—and loaded it. Then he strode for the door.
He opened it to find his servants conferring about whether to disturb him.
“My lord, are you all right?” his steward asked. “We heard shouting—”
“I’m fine. Have my horse saddled, will you?”
“Certainly, my lord, but . . . I did wonder . . . will you return in time for your meeting with the tenants? They are most anxious to meet their new landlord.”
You are responsible for many people, so you must think of them, too.
Colin gazed around at his servants. Oh God, she was right—he wasn’t the only person to consider in this. He really had no idea how much trouble her uncle could make for him. Did he have the right to risk not only his own future, but that of his tenants and his servants, even his future children? For love?
He wasn’t even sure she loved him, after all. The final words of her letter had been cold and formal, not lover-like at all:
I hate to leave you now, though it is for the best. Do take care of yourself.
Yours,
Eliza
Take care of himself. As if he were an acquaintance she’d met on the road.
And what if she’d lied about not caring he was half-Indian? What if she really was just another undisciplined female who didn’t mind sharing his bed, but couldn’t abide a marriage to him?
She’d chosen to leave him—he hadn’t made her go. The wisest thing, the safest thing for his heart, was to let her have her way.
To hell with that.
What had being wise and safe gained him? He’d thought it wise to box up his wounded heart when Rashmi had died. But instead of bringing him peace, it had brought him loneliness.
Then Eliza had come along, and opened the box to let the light shine in on his heart so it could heal. She’d even dared to state what he’d known within an hour of meeting her: that he wanted her. And “not just in your bed,” either.
Wise or safe didn’t matter. He couldn’t just let her go.
“Saddle a horse,” he told the steward. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, but I have to pay a visit to the magistrate.” I have to fetch the woman I love.
Sitting in the bedchamber she’d used her first night at her uncle’s, Eliza plotted how to handle him. Last night she’d sneaked into the house, raided the kitchen while he and the servant slept, and come up here. She’d been reeling from lack of sleep and the exhaustion of walking back, so that had been her first priority.
Thankfully, no one had discovered her, so she’d had a good night’s sleep and dressed herself properly. But dawn had broken two hours ago, and she couldn’t hide forever. She’d smuggled up only a day’s food at most.
The longer she could stay undetected, the better, for it would give Colin time to post her letters.
Colin. Her heart lurched. No, she wouldn’t think about him right now, or she’d lose her nerve and go running back to Chaunceston Hall.
The door swung open, and the servant who’d probably come to clean the room blinked at her. Eliza held her finger to her lips, but it was no use.
“Master, Master!” the servant was already crying. “The miss has returned! She’s come home!”
Eliza groaned. So much for hiding.
She rose, determined to face her uncle with stoic indifference, but when he entered reeking of gin, with his graying hair disheveled and his cravat askew, her heart sank. How could she make him listen to her when he was in this condition?
“Go to the livery and order that rig brought here,” he commanded the maid.
With a bob of her head, she hurried off.
“Where the devil have you been?” he growled at Eliza.
“I set off for London, but I was robbed yesterday. So I had to return.”
He looked torn between concern over her misadventure and anger at her impudence. Anger won out. “Serves you right, being robbed. You’re lucky they didn’t murder you, too. And I hope it showed you a thing or two—like how lucky you are to have a suitor willing to overlook your wildness—”
“I’m not going to Cornwall,” Eliza said stoutly. “I won’t marry your friend.”
His face darkened. “You’ll marry who I say, and be glad of the chance.”
“To have my inheritance stolen from me?”
“What do you mean?” he said hoarsely.
She swallowed. “I don’t believe you about the money. I want to speak to Papa’s trustees in London before I do anything so precipitous as to marry.”
The blood drained from his face. �
�You dare to defy your guardian?” He stalked toward her. “I swear I will have your hide—”
“I posted letters to my friends in London.” When that halted him, she added, “The Duchess of Foxmoor and Mrs. Harris. I told them everything. They’ll come to my aid.”
A look of sheer panic crossed his face. “Eliza, you don’t know what you’ve done. You have to marry Min-yard. You must or I’m finished!”
It clutched at her heart to see him so desperate. How far he’d fallen since she’d known him as a girl. “I’m sorry, Uncle Silas, but I can’t.”
His panic twisted instantly into rage. “You will write those friends of yours and tell them you were mistaken.” He walked up to seize her by the shoulders. “I’ll make you marry him, damn it!”
“Let go of her!” ordered Colin’s voice from the door. “Or I swear I’ll kill you!”
Releasing her, Uncle Silas whirled around.
Eliza’s heart leaped. He’d come for her! She couldn’t believe it. Oh, but he shouldn’t have, blast him. Her uncle would destroy him, too.
“What are you doing here, Monteith?” her uncle snapped. “This is none of your concern. You stay out of it!”
“Come here, Eliza,” Colin said.
When she tried to pass her uncle, he grabbed her. “She’s my niece, and I’m not letting her—”
“Do you want to die?” Colin snapped, whipping out his pistol. “Let her go.”
Her uncle blanched, but thankfully released her. As she hurried to Colin’s side, Uncle Silas growled, “I’ll have you charged with assaulting a magistrate.”
“And I’ll have you charged with fraud. It shouldn’t take much to uncover your scheme with Mr. Minyard.” When her uncle gaped at him, Colin added, his eyes deadly cold, “I told you yesterday—Eliza and I have an understanding. I mean to marry her. And nothing you say, no lie you tell me about her, will change that.”
Oh, he was taking such wild chances.
“You dare to threaten me, sir?” her uncle snapped. “I swear I’ll—”
“Let me reason with him, Uncle,” she put in. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
“Damn it, Eliza, I know perfectly well—”
“Out here, my lord.” She dragged Colin into the hall, then lowered her voice. “Have you lost your mind? Don’t you realize what he could do to you?”
“I don’t care.”
“Oh, Colin, I can’t let you—”
“I still haven’t given you the tenth reason you should marry me.” He fixed her with a darkly intent gaze. “I love you, Eliza.”
The words poured over her like honey, so sweet she was afraid to believe them. “You’re only saying that because you’re bent on saving me. You’re just being the gentleman again.”
“No! I swear I’m not.” He gave a shaky laugh. “That’s one thing I love about you—the way you think me so noble. Any other Englishwoman would take one look at me and assume I was a savage. But you pronounced me a gentleman within moments of meeting me, even after I drew a pistol on you. Do you know how rare that is, to be seen for what one is and not what one appears to be?”
As her heart began to soar, he caught her face in his hands. “And I see you now for what you are, too. I was wrong about you and Rashmi—you’re nothing like her. She would never have done something as unselfish as you did today.”
When she still didn’t speak, her heart too full of joy for words, he added, “How could I not love you? You’re the sun to my moon, the flame in my hearth—”
“Flame?” she choked out. “That doesn’t sound entirely safe, my lord.”
“I don’t want safe. I want you. However I can get you. So if you think that in time you could come to love me—”
“I don’t need time,” she breathed. “I already love you so desperately that the thought of my uncle ruining your—”
He cut off her words with a sweet kiss that stole away any remaining objections. Colin was hers at last. And perhaps it was selfish of her, but she meant to keep him. No matter what trouble it caused.
“Lord Monteith!” said a sharp voice, making them break apart.
Blast, she’d forgotten about her uncle.
Colin drew her to his side, sliding his arm protectively about her waist. “I love her, and I’m marrying her, sir. There’s naught you can do to stop me.”
Uncle Silas looked like he’d swallowed nails. “You’re not afraid of what I can do to you? I could make a great deal of trouble for you in England, you know.”
A muscle ticked in Colin’s jaw. “Then we’ll go to India.”
That seemed to take him aback. “You really aren’t interested in the money.”
“No, sir.”
Her uncle paled. “And you, girl? You wish to marry this . . . this . . .”
“Yes, Uncle,” she said hastily. “I love him, too.”
His face fell. “Young love. The two of you sound like Nancy and me years ago.” A heart-wrenching sigh left his lips. “Elope then, if you must. I won’t stop you.” He turned wearily toward the stairs, mumbling, “And now I’m ruined.”
“Uncle Silas,” she called out, “do you need money? Is that it?”
“Don’t you dare offer that scoundrel money,” Colin snapped.
Her uncle froze, then faced them with a haughty look. “Sometimes when a man is grieving and can’t take care of his property, he gets into debt, sir. But that does not make him a scoundrel.”
“When he tries to steal from his niece, it does,” Colin shot back. “I know what it’s like to grieve, but I also know that a real man pays his own debts. He doesn’t push them onto the back of a young woman who needs him. Besides, we both know it has nothing to do with grief. You’re so sunk in drink that you—”
“Colin,” she chided when her uncle bristled, “now who’s being reckless?” She glanced at her uncle. “You owe Mr. Minyard money, do you?”
He hesitated, then nodded. “He said he would seize everything I own to pay it, but he agreed to absolve me of the debt if I . . . I . . .”
“Gave him Eliza to marry,” Colin snapped.
He hung his head. “Yes.”
“How much do you owe?” Colin asked, to Eliza’s shock.
Her uncle met Colin’s gaze warily. “Why?”
Colin glanced down at Eliza, then back to her uncle. A sigh escaped his lips. “I propose a trade. I’d prefer not to elope—Eliza will suffer enough gossip by marrying me as it is. So if you’ll approve the match and act as a guardian ought, perhaps I can help you repay your debt.”
Uncle Silas shook his head. “Minyard won’t accept it. He wanted her fortune, and if he can’t have that, he wants the estate since it isn’t entailed.”
“He will settle for money and a schedule of repayment, if I bring my cousin into it,” Colin said. “Especially if I point out the disadvantages to seizing the estate of the Earl of Monteith’s relation. My title has got to be good for something.”
The first sparks of hope leaped into her uncle’s face until Colin added, “But there will be conditions.”
“What conditions?”
“You must refrain from drink.” When her uncle scowled, Colin added, “Every day that you do so, I’ll send servants over to help you set this place to rights. We’re neighbors now; we can help each other. But you must do your part.”
Uncle Silas looked despairingly from Colin to her. “I don’t know if I can.”
“I remember when this house was filled with light and love and laughter,” Eliza said softly. “It can be that way again, if you’ll only try.”
Her uncle uttered a weary sigh. “Very well. For you, girl, I shall do my best.” He gestured to the stairs. “I suppose we should adjourn to my study to discuss the terms of the marriage and . . . the rest.”
“Yes,” Colin said and started for the stairs.
Eliza stayed him. “We’ll be there in a moment, Uncle.” As he nodded and continued down, she turned to Colin. “Thank you for helping him, but why
—”
“You pointed out that many people depend on me. Well, people depend on him, too. You, for one. His tenants, and that poor servant. Not to mention the residents of Brookmoor. If their magistrate is ruined, what does it do to them?” He cupped her cheek. “Some people may be incapable of happiness, but does that mean we shouldn’t try to help them find it?”
“No, it doesn’t.” The ferocity of her love for him stole her breath. “Trying to reform my uncle won’t make for a very peaceful life for you, I daresay.”
“Probably not.” His eyes glittered with mischief. “But I’d never accept a life as tepid as that. I want the passion, the drama, the thrill of knowing my relations intimately enough to quarrel with them over the important things.”
As she laughed, he sobered. “I want love. And from what I hear, love isn’t always peaceful.”
“No, it isn’t.” Sometimes it was a briar bush. And sometimes no matter how long you looked, you couldn’t see the roses in the briars. But if you’d done your looking, and your instincts served you well, sometimes it was all right to leap.
“But fortunately for you, my love,” she said as she lifted her mouth to his, “I think peace is vastly over-rated.”
Click through for a special look at the first delightful romance in the new Duke’s Men series
WHAT THE DUKE DESIRES
by New York Times bestselling author
Sabrina Jeffries
Coming July 2013 from Pocket Books
If circumstances had been different, Lisette would have laughed at the look of sheer outrage carving deep lines into the duke’s brow. But much as she would normally enjoy shocking a haughty English lord, this was not about that.
It was about making sure that Tristan didn’t find himself at the end of a hangman’s noose. Because if he were in London or if the duke made a big to-do over finding him in Paris . . .
Ten Reasons to Stay Page 8
