‘Nothing’s going to stop me.’
‘That’s the spirit, dear.’ The small face nodded approvingly. ‘I should think so, too.’
* * *
Violet leaned against one of the stone embrasures of the medieval town wall, looking out over the slated rooftops of the city to the horizon beyond. It was all so horribly ironic. She’d wanted to visit York for almost as long as she could remember, ever since she’d flicked through the pages of her mother’s old picture book, and yet now she was here, all she could do was look back the way that she’d come, towards the moors, towards Amberton Castle and Lance.
She had her aunt’s address in her bag, but she seemed unable to advance another step in the direction of her house, as if doing so would be a final admission that her marriage was over and she was moving on. Would Lance know that she’d left by now? Would he be relieved or would he only care about the money? Either way, it didn’t matter. She’d made the decision to leave and she wouldn’t go back, not to a husband who didn’t love her.
‘Violet?’
She tensed at the sound of his voice, though she didn’t turn around. For a moment she thought she was imagining things, yet deep down she knew that she wasn’t. She could sense him behind her, could tell by the way that her heart leapt first and then started to thud erratically against her ribcage. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down, at least enough to hear herself think over the sound of her body’s increasingly frantic reaction. He’d come after her! And yet she already knew that he wasn’t there for her. Just like the first time she’d run away, he’d only come after her for the money. He’d made his feelings about that perfectly clear that morning. He was probably only there to persuade her to come back and marry his brother—to tell her that it was for the best.
She ran her hands over the wall, smoothing her fingers over the cold, hard stone. The city walls had stood for over seven hundred years and the Roman walls beneath were even older. For a fleeting moment, she wished she could turn to stone herself. A statue couldn’t hear, couldn’t feel, couldn’t be hurt. She kept her face fixed straight ahead. Statues couldn’t see either, and if she turned to look at him, she was afraid she might be hurt even more.
‘How did you find me?’ She was surprised at how expressionless her voice sounded.
‘Your friend Ianthe decided to give me a last chance and her aunt claims to have been expecting me. She was in the station, waiting.’
‘She’s a romantic. What are you really doing here, Lance?’
‘I was worried about you.’
She gave a cynical half-smile. ‘My father always said he was worried about me. That’s why he kept me shut up from the world. Maybe he was right about me getting hurt, but I still wanted my freedom. I wanted it from him and now I want it from you, too. If you’ve only come because you’re worried, then you can turn around and leave. I can take care of myself.’
‘I know.’ His shadow fell over hers. ‘I also know that you’re perfectly capable of standing on your own two feet, of doing everything your father never let you, but the problem is, I’m not. I’m not capable of standing on my own any more. I’m a mess on my own. I was a mess before I married you, and I’m a mess again now. I can’t be without you, Violet.’
‘You said you wanted a divorce.’
‘I say a lot of stupid things. When I saw Arthur, I panicked. I was so happy to see him again, but when I thought about what it might mean for us...’
‘For my inheritance?’
‘Hang your inheritance! I don’t give a damn about the money! I’ve been a fool. I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go, but I’ve never been good at doing the right thing and I can’t start now, not if it means losing you. But you were right last night, I’m not the man I was. You’ve changed me. You’ve made me a better man and I’ll spend the rest of my life being good and honourable and everything else I ought to be, if you’ll only forgive me. I didn’t mean what I said, Violet.’
Her heart lifted. He hadn’t meant it, he didn’t want a divorce, yet the memory of the words still hurt. She braced a hand against the wall, holding herself steady.
‘You know, when my father died, I felt like I’d finally been let out of prison. I didn’t want any man to control me ever again. I wanted to find out who I was instead. I married you because you offered me the freedom to find out, but somehow I gave you control anyway. I gave you the power to hurt me because I was happy with you. I didn’t want to go travelling again because I started to feel like I had a home, a real home of my own at last. I didn’t feel small and powerless and trapped any more. Even though our marriage was all based on the money, it felt like it was becoming more than that. Last night felt like more than that.’
‘It was more than that. Yes, I married you for the money, but it was the best mistake I ever made, the right decision for all the wrong reasons. And if we lose it all now, I don’t care. The estate won’t collapse, nor will the mine. It’ll take us longer to make a profit, but we’ll succeed eventually. As for the house, it’s supposed to look like a castle. A few more crumbling walls won’t hurt.’ He rested his hand on the stone next to hers. ‘I know you like them this way.’
She moved her fingers slightly towards his. ‘You remember that?’
‘You were coming here the first time you ran away from me—how could I forget that? You said your mother had a picture book of York.’
‘Now I know why. She was born here.’
‘Ianthe said you were coming to find your aunt.’
‘Yes.’ She reached her little finger out and brushed it gently against his hand. ‘I was planning to go straight to her house, but...I can’t seem to move.’
‘Why?’ His voice sounded faintly husky.
‘Because I feel trapped again. When you said we should get a divorce it made everything I’d felt seem like a lie, as if the person I’d become was a lie, too.’ She turned around at last, pressing her back against the wall to look at him. ‘I don’t want it all to have been a lie.’
‘None of it was a lie, Violet, I swear it. You’re not a lie. You’re the woman I love.’
‘You love me?’ She felt breathless suddenly.
‘Yes. I should have told you last night. I love you so much that I’ll walk the whole length of these walls on my bad leg if it’ll prove it to you.’
‘It’s two miles.’
‘Then it might take me a day or two.’ He took a step closer towards her. ‘I don’t expect you to say you love me back. Just come home with me, Violet. Please.’
‘No.’ She shook her head and his face fell. ‘I need to find my aunt, to find out why she kept away all these years.’
‘If that’s what you want.’ His voice sounded strained. ‘I want you to be happy, Violet.’
‘Thank you.’ She hesitated for another moment and then reached out, clasping his hands in the way he’d held hers on the promenade just before their wedding. ‘But after that, I’d like you to take me home.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes.’ Her heart clenched at the hopeful look on his face. ‘On condition that you never try to do the right thing ever again, not without checking with me first. You’re not very good at it.’
‘I know.’ Amber eyes lit up with laughter.
‘As for my inheritance...’
His expression turned fierce again. ‘I told you, I don’t care about the blasted money! Your father’s cousin’s neighbour’s cat is welcome to it, for all I care!’
‘No, they’re not. The other claimant rejected the will. The money’s already mine—ours. If we were to get a divorce, it would probably be all yours.’
‘I would never...’
‘Then you’re stuck with me.’ She smiled, releasing his hands to fling her arms around him. ‘Or you’ll have to think of a good reason to divorce me because I won’t do it. I love you, too,
Captain Lancelot Amberton, and I don’t want a divorce, not ever!’
Epilogue
‘It’s a beautiful morning. Come and see.’ Violet opened their bedroom window and gazed out at the moors.
‘I like the view from here.’ Lance threw an arm behind his head and lounged back against the bedhead. ‘Though I’d prefer it without the dressing gown. Why do you ever bother putting that thing on when you know I’m only going to take it off you again?’
‘Because I don’t want to horrify the gardeners if they look up.’ She turned and gazed around their new chamber with satisfaction. ‘I like this new room. I like this wing of the house, too. It really is a fresh start. I wonder why we never thought to simply choose a bedroom of our own together before.’
‘Mrs Gargrave’s indomitable will.’
‘She calmed quite considerably when I told her we’d be closer to the nursery.’ She peered at him coyly from under her lashes. ‘When the time comes for producing an heir, that is.’
Amber eyes flashed appreciatively. ‘You can’t say we’re not putting the effort in. You’ve worn me out.’
‘I’ve worn you out?’
‘Yes.’ He stretched both arms above his head and yawned. ‘For a small woman, you have a surprising amount of energy, not to mention imagination. I think I might have injured my back this time. I may have to lie here all day to recover.’
‘What about the mine?’
He opened his arms out towards her. ‘What’s the point of having a bad leg if you can’t use it as an excuse to sleep in once in a while? Now come back to bed and nurse me.’
‘You’re incorrigible.’
‘You were warned.’
‘Repeatedly. Why do you think I tried to run away?’
‘Twice.’ He grinned. ‘Am I such a beast?’
‘Yes, but you’re my beast.’
She clambered on to the bed, nestling against his shoulder and rubbing her cheek gently against his chest. He felt warm and solid and temptingly snug. Maybe they could lie there for a bit longer... But it was a beautiful day outside, perfect for the purpose she had in mind.
‘Are you enjoying your third month of marriage, Mrs Amberton?’ He dipped his head to press a kiss into her hair.
‘I got more sleep during the first two...’ she stroked a hand over his stomach ‘...not that I’m complaining.’
‘It’s your fault for being so damned irresistible.’
‘That’s not what you said before we were married. You said you could wait seven years.’
‘Don’t remind me,’ he groaned. ‘Two months was long enough. I would never have made it to a year with my sanity intact.’
‘Then it’s lucky you didn’t have to wait so long after all.’
She sighed as his lips rubbed across her throat and then started to move downwards, surrendering herself briefly to the feeling, just as she had twice the night before and once already that morning. But this time, she admonished herself, she wasn’t going to surrender, not completely. She had her own plans for the day. After that, however...
She slid out from beside him, spinning around to straddle his thighs and drop a kiss on to his chest, before jumping quickly off the bed. ‘But you do need to wait until tonight. Come on!’
‘Tease.’ Lance heaved himself up behind her.
‘It’s the only way I know to motivate you.’ She laughed gleefully. ‘Come on. There’s something I want to show you outside. It’s a surprise.’
They dressed and wandered out of the house and across the lawns, arms around each other’s waists. The gardens were in full bloom, a riotous mixture of colour and sweet scents all vying for supremacy in the summer sunshine.
‘Here we are.’ She stopped at the entrance to the maze.
‘My surprise is in there?’
‘Yes!’ She grabbed his hand, pulling him down a long corridor and around a series of bends.
‘You know where you’re going, I suppose?’ He followed after her obediently.
‘I’m starting to find my way around.’
She stopped when they reached the centre, gesturing towards the rose arbour in the corner. Between her and Martin they’d restored and repainted the wood, trimmed the rose bushes and trailed them delicately around the frame. ‘It looked so sad and neglected before.’
‘It was.’ Lance looked sombre for a moment. ‘This was one of my mother’s favourite places.’
She squeezed his hand. ‘Now we can sit here together.’
‘Yes.’ His voice cracked slightly. ‘Thank you, Violet.’
‘You gave me her sitting room. I wanted to give you something of hers as well.’
‘You’ve given me more than I ever deserved. I never imagined that I could be this happy.’
‘Me neither.’ She sighed. ‘This place really is like a fairy tale. I can’t wait to show Aunt Caroline when she comes to visit.’
‘Why don’t you invite her for a house party this summer? And your uncle Ben and all your new cousins, too.’
‘You wouldn’t mind?’
‘Why would I? It would save us all traipsing back and forth to York every weekend.’ He squeezed her hand back. ‘I told you they’d love you.’
‘So you did. It was just hard to believe back then.’
‘You’ve come a long way. We both have.’
‘I still can’t believe that my father refused to let them visit me.’
She frowned and he tugged her against him. ‘Maybe he wanted to keep you all to himself. I’m starting to understand the impulse. But that’s all in the past now. A wise woman once told me that some things are best left there.’
‘You’re right.’ She wrapped her arms around him gratefully. ‘What about Arthur? Will he mind a house party?’
His expression wavered. ‘I think Arthur has his own plans.’
‘He still wants to go back to sea?’
‘I doubt that it would be possible any more. Now his secret’s out, he’d have a job finding a skipper willing to employ a viscount. But he’s still determined to leave.’
‘Then you have to let him.’
‘I know. I only hope he finds someone to make him as happy as I am.’
‘Who would have thought it, a timid mouse and a reprobate?’
‘A kitten and a beast?’
‘Violet and Lance.’ She lifted her head up to kiss him lightly, and then not so lightly, on the lips. ‘Who will Arthur find, I wonder?’
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story, you won’t want to miss
these other great reads by Jenni Fletcher:
MARRIED TO HER ENEMY
THE CONVENIENT FELSTONE MARRIAGE
BESIEGED AND BETROTHED
Keep reading for an excerpt from FROM COURTESAN TO CONVENIENT WIFE by Marguerite Kaye.
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From Courtesan to Convenient Wife
by Marguerite Kaye
Prologue
London—May 1818
The house that was her destination was located on Upper Wimpole Street, on the very edge of what was considered to be respectable London. The woman known as The Procurer stepped down lightly from her barouche, ordering her coachman to wait until she had successfully secured entry, then to return for her in an hour. An hour, The Procurer knew from experience, was more than sufficient time to conclude her unique business. One way or another.
Number Fourteen was situated at the far end of the terrace. A shallow flight of steps led to the front door, but the entrance to the basement she sought was around the corner, on Devonshire Street. The Procurer descended the steep stairs cautiously. Despite the bright sunshine of the late spring morning, it was cool down here, dank and gloomy. The curtains were pulled tight over the single, dirty window. A fleck of paint fell from the door when she let the rusty knocker fall.
There was no reply. She rapped again, her eyes on the window, and was rewarded with the ripple of a curtain as the person behind it tried to peer out at her unobserved. She stood calmly, allowing herself to be surveyed, sadly accustomed to the reticence of the women she sought out to welcome unsolicited visitors. The reasons were manifold, but fear lay at the root of all of them.
The Procurer offered an escape route from their tribulations to those women whose particular skills or traits suited her current requirements. The exclusive temporary contracts she offered provided those who satisfied her criteria with the funds to make a fresh start, though what form that would take was always entirely up to them. The unique business she had established was very lucrative and satisfying too, on the whole, though there were occasions when The Procurer despaired of the tiny impact her altruism had, when set against the myriad injustices the world perpetrated against women. Today, however, she was in a positive mood. A new client, another extraordinary request to test her reputation for making the impossible possible. She had heard of Lady Sophia Acton’s spectacular fall from grace and had wondered, at the time, what had been the cause of it. Now, thanks to her spider’s web of contacts, she understood only too well. Her heart was touched—as much as that frozen organ could be, that is.
Captain Amberton's Inherited Bride Page 24
