“Sweet heaven,” he breathed, enfolding her to his chest. “When were you going to tell me that you’re having a child?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t had my monthlies since Christmas, but so much has happened. Would you be happy if . . .” Her words faded.
“Yes, of course.” But he was older. Ready to start a family. She was still so young. He knew girls were married off out of the schoolroom and mothers shortly thereafter, but he had no wish to rob her of all her youth. Her father had seen to stealing enough of it. “What about you?”
“I—I never wanted children before. But your children”—she wriggled in his lap and Gareth inhaled sharply at the delicious friction—“I think I could change my mind.”
“We’ll have a nursemaid. A governess. Spare no expense.”
“I think it’s more important that we be proper parents.”
“I will do my best. As for the hoyden I married—”
His teasing words fell flat. Annie looked stricken.
“Sweetheart, our children will be blessed to have you for a mother. Never doubt it.”
“Will they? How will I explain everything?”
Gareth kissed her troubled brow. “By the time they’re old enough to care, Lady Imaculata Egremont’s hijinx will be ancient history. They’ll know only Lady Anne. And they’ll love her just as much as I do.”
“I hope you’re right.”
She wasn’t convinced. So he did the only thing he could think of, and kissed her lips this time, slowly and very thoroughly. They still had half a day’s ride ahead, and just because they’d already made love in a carriage, it didn’t mean that they couldn’t again.
CHAPTER 31
Anne and Gareth were shown to a charming drawing room, where a tray of tea and sandwiches swiftly appeared. Perhaps they should not have come in their rumpled, travel-stained clothes, but the Grays were little better when they came downstairs to greet them. If Anne was not mistaken, Lord Gray’s falls were misbuttoned.
Why she was looking there she had no idea. Force of habit, probably, and a most unsuitable thing for a newly married woman to do to a newly married man, especially when they were not married to each other. And most especially after the kind of afternoon she had spent with her own husband, who had very nearly calmed all her qualms with simply spectacular lovemaking in a rocking carriage.
But she’d once had a tendre for Benton Gray. Now, he looked predictable with his golden hair and perfectly cut—though misfastened—clothes. He was nothing like her dark and dangerous Gareth, not even as tall. She beamed at her husband, nearly forgetting why they’d come here tonight. She felt her husband’s arm around her giving her a gentle squeeze, and she went to embrace her friend.
“Evangeline! I wish you happy! We read about the impending wedding in The London List and wanted to come to thank you in person. I’m so sorry we’ve disturbed you at this late hour.”
Evangeline smiled, ruffling her fingers through her already ruffled short dark hair. “Nonsense. It’s not even eight o’clock.”
“But it’s our wedding night,” Benton Gray growled. Oh dear. Perhaps he was every bit as ferocious as Gareth in seeing to his marital duties. But it was not as though he hadn’t anticipated his wedding vows months ago. Anne had heard him anticipating with Evangeline above the office of The London List with her own two ears. Far be it for her to judge—Anne had known Gareth a very short time when she anticipated herself. She put one gloved hand on her belly and hoped the people of Llanwyr couldn’t count.
“I say, I am sorry. My wife insisted we see you as soon as we got to Town, Lord Gray. When my Annie wants something, it’s hard to deny her. I’m sure you know the feeling.”
“I’m afraid I do, Major. Please be seated. Well, Annie, I see congratulations are due all the way around.” Ben’s gaze bored into her and she blushed. He had known her from before, known her too well. It was important for her to make him realize that girl was gone for good. She raised her chin.
“We have come to Town to get my money,” she said. “Now that I’m married, Papa will have to turn it over to me.”
“She asked me to marry her, so you needn’t think I’m a fortune hunter,” Gareth said quickly. “And I did know her history, once she told me who she really was. The London List reached even my distant corner of Wales, as you know from my letter. And when she told me what had happened to her—my poor love.” He squeezed her fingers, which had suddenly gone quite cold with nerves. “I’ve promised her not to kill the bastard with my one bare hand, but I don’t mind telling you I’ll enjoy making the old goat squirm tomorrow.”
Lord Gray looked as if he’d wandered into the wrong play, expecting a comedy only to discover bloody bodies on the floor. It was plain he had no idea what Gareth was talking about. So, Evangeline had kept her word and hadn’t told him her sordid tale. Anne wasn’t about to now.
“What can we do to help?” Evangeline asked. Her dark eyes were sympathetic, her smile warm.
“Just write a story about us. My husband is a genuine war hero, a fine man. I want to surprise those people who doubted I had a lick of sense in me. Explain I’m completely reformed. When our children come up to London, I don’t want them to be ashamed.”
“And find us a housekeeper. My Annie has many talents, but cooking and cleaning are not among them,” Gareth said in his delightful Welsh burr, which had gotten thicker the closer they came to the capital.
“Done, on both counts,” Evangeline said, rising from the settee. “Come see us tomorrow to give us the particulars of your courtship. I imagine it was very romantic.”
Anne nodded. “He saved my life when I burned his house down.” There was no point in trying to explain about Martin, so she kept to the simple story they’d agreed upon. If they were looking to restore their reputations with the ton, there was no reason to drag arson and murder into it.
Gareth squeezed her hand. “Not the whole house, mind, just the kitchen wing. And it was a mercy, if you know what I mean. We’ve been taking all our meals in the village inn since, but that’s becoming somewhat inconvenient now that we think Annie is increasing.”
“Gareth!” she whispered, blushing furiously. He smiled at her, looking idiotically happy. Leaning down, he brushed her cheek with a kiss.
“It won’t be a secret for long, love. Maybe we’ll inspire them. It is their wedding night, as Lord Gray keeps saying. Over and over, poor fellow,” he whispered back.
The two couples spent the rest of their brief time together offering mutual congratulations and toasting each other’s happiness with the teacups. Gareth refused Lord Gray’s halfhearted offer of champagne—true to his wedding day pledge, he’d had not so much as a tankard of ale since they married.
Anne’s eyelids were getting heavy, and it was Gareth who cut short the celebration, much to Benton Gray’s delight. They fixed a time to come to the newspaper office to be interviewed. Evangeline told them she was in the process of hiring a permanent caricaturist, and would give the artist the opportunity to draw them from life for the article if they would agree to pose. Gareth was less than enamored with the idea, but Anne was willing to do anything to rehabilitate her reputation.
They checked into Mivart’s Hotel, which was shockingly expensive, but Gareth had insisted. This was, he said, their honeymoon, no matter the unpleasant business they faced tomorrow. When he had stayed in London before, he’d been a regular guest at Stevens’s Hotel, which was popular with army men. However, he was not going to subject Anne to the curiosity of officers gadding about Town.
“You are a lady,” he reminded her, as he scooped her up and carried her over the threshold of their suite. Anne was always surprised what he could do with just one arm, and so was the porter with their luggage. “You deserve the very best.”
“And I have got it,” Anne replied, kissing her husband to further discompose the porter.
Once deposited on her feet, Anne explored their suite. It was tastefully appointed, rem
inding her a little of her father’s house. She’d spent the last four years of her life trying to escape from those walls, but tomorrow she’d go back in.
She wouldn’t be alone, though. This time she’d have a champion by her side.
“I absolutely forbid this—this whatever you might call it.” Lord Egremont’s voice was ice itself despite the early leafing of the trees outside his library window.
Anne had expected nothing less. Once her father had got over the shock of her turning up with a husband at his doorstep before breakfast, he had settled himself behind his massive desk and donned his most glacial stare. He meant to intimidate them both, but it wouldn’t work, although Anne would be lying if she said she felt no trepidation. She’d spent much of her night in sleepless dread, despite Gareth’s warm body beside her. Her father had not even given them an invitation to sit, so they stood, as befitted protocol in the presence of an earl. Holding hands might not be proper, but under the circumstances, Anne was grateful for Gareth’s touch.
“You c-cannot forbid anything, Papa. We are m-married. We called the banns and everything.” Damn, but she was nervous. Her father made her feel like a guilty child, when it was he who should bear the guilt.
She paused. She knew he would wonder, and hoped her next sentence would forever put her out of his reach. “We have consummated the marriage.”
There! She got through that without a stumble. Anne would not speak of the baby yet. That secret was too holy to share with the man.
Her father’s lip curled in disdain. Lord, but he was behaving in such a villainous manner he could have been a character in Lady X’s gothic novels. The realization almost made her smile.
“You little fool. Your marriage is invalid. Did no one ask your age?”
Gareth clutched her gloved hand a little tighter. His mother’s emerald ring bit into her skin. “M-my age?”
“One cannot marry these days without parental permission until the age of twenty-one. You did not have my permission. You do not have it, and will not have it. This so-called marriage of yours is invalid. I should have you horse-whipped, Major, for taking advantage of my daughter.”
“I have not taken advantage. Annie is my wife in the eyes of God. Nothing you do or say will change that.” Gareth spoke in clear, measured tones. At least one of them was intelligible.
Her father’s brows beetled. “Who? Did she not even tell you what her name is?” He looked at Gareth with contempt.
“I know who she was. I know who she is. And I know, Lord Egremont, what you tried to do to her. When she wouldn’t agree to assuaging your sinful desires, you beat her. She ran clear to Wales to escape you, and you’ll not get her back.”
Her father’s face mottled scarlet. “You insolent cripple! Are you threatening me? I’ll have you beaten and tossed out on your ear.” He rose to tug on the bellpull.
Anne twisted from Gareth’s grip and stepped toward her father. “No! I love Gareth, Papa! He was decorated by the Prince of Wales himself for his service.”
Gareth was right behind her, his arm tight about her shaking shoulders. “Hush, Annie. Let me fight my own battles.” He paused. “Lord Egremont, I am not conversant with all the marital laws of the land. We entered into our marriage in good faith and were married in a Methodist chapel by my cousin, who is an ordained minister. I don’t believe the factor of Anne’s age ever came up. But her reason to marry did. My cousin knows her history, and is prepared to stand as witness.”
“The word of some wild-eyed dissenting parson against a peer of the realm? You may have been decorated by the Regent, but he is the King now, and I count him among my friends. This cousin of yours knows nothing except what this lying little slut has told him. For some reason she has wanted to destroy me ever since she was introduced to society. You have no idea the grief she’s caused me. She’s a wicked, wicked girl. There is no proof of anything untoward. Because nothing of the sort ever happened.”
Anne had to admit her father made a convincing liar. If she hadn’t been a party to his assaults on her, she might have been convinced herself.
“I will tell, Papa. It will be on the front page of The London List for all the world to read.”
“You wouldn’t dare! And anyway, they’d never print such filth. I know Gray. He’s taken enough of my blunt for those damn ads I placed, and I’d sue him within an inch of his life and get it back and a thousand fold more once it went to court. I don’t know why I even wanted you home. You’ve been nothing but an embarrassment, doing one disgusting thing after another.”
“Then we’ve solved your problem now, haven’t we, Lord Egremont?” Gareth said. “Let me worry about your daughter. Take care of her. She’s my responsibility now. My wife.”
“She is nothing to you legally.” Her father’s face took on a crafty smile. “I was prepared to offer a reward for my daughter’s return. How much do you want?”
“I beg your pardon?” It was Gareth’s turn to be chilly.
“I’ll pay you for your trouble for harboring her all these months. You’ll thank me in the end. No decent man wants to be saddled with a whore for a wife.”
It happened too quickly for her to stop it. Gareth punched her father squarely in his aristocratic nose—something Anne was delighted she hadn’t inherited from him. The earl flew back and landed on his arse on the Aubusson carpet. Blood spattered on his white cravat as he reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. He glared up at Gareth, who made no move to assist him.
“You’ll pay for this. I’ll ruin you. Maybe even see you hang.”
No. No more. She was done with her father’s threats. Anne reached into her reticule and pulled out her little pistol. She wasn’t sure why she brought it with her, but now she was glad she had.
She didn’t know who looked more surprised, Gareth or her father. Anne was suddenly rather enjoying herself and the effect she had on the two men in her life.
“I don’t believe you’ll want the father of your first grandchild ruined. Deprive him of his father? What would the ton say, Papa? People think you are so charitable. So good. You wouldn’t hurt an innocent child, would you? Oh, yes, that’s right, you would.”
Her father paled. “Is that thing loaded? I bet it isn’t. You haven’t the nerve.”
“Do you really want to find out? No one would blame me after all you’ve put me through. And believe me, I’d tell and tell and tell before they hanged me. I expect they’d wait until the baby was born, so by then the entire world would know what you tried to do. What you did. Any reputation you’d ever had would be buried right along with you. Of course, you’d be dead, so that might not really matter.”
“You are enceinte?” her father croaked.
She nodded. She hoped it was true.
“Get out then.”
She sidestepped the spittle that he hurled in her direction. It provoked her enough to raise her arm and aim the gun directly at his head. His face bleached of all color. “We are at Milvart’s Hotel. I expect you to contact my trustees this morning. Gareth will meet with them tomorrow at their convenience. Impress upon them how anxious you are to see this settled, Papa. How happy you are with my marriage. I want to go home. To Wales.”
Gareth was silent as he escorted her down the marble stairs of the townhouse to the elegant foyer. The two liveried footmen who stood on either side of the door startled considerably when they saw the gun that Anne had forgotten to tuck back into her reticule. They bumped wigs in their haste to open the door.
“You’re not going to shoot me with that, are you, minx?” Gareth asked, offering her his arm.
“Not if you behave yourself.”
“I wouldn’t dare do anything else. You were—you are—magnificent. But the gun’s not really loaded, is it?”
Anne smiled up at him sweetly. “Let’s not spoil my magnificence with practical matters. I meant what I said, Gareth. I want to go home. With you. To Wales and Ripton Hall.”
“Forever. As soon as practical
matters are attended to, of course.” He winked and they walked into their future.
EPILOGUE
From The London List, March 6, 1821, edition, Page One:
Romance Knows No Rank:
The Heiress and the Horseman
London is buzzing with news of the Impulsive Lady Imaculata Egremont’s secret marriage to one of England’s Waterloo heroes, Major Gareth Ripton-Jones, late of the Royal Welsh Fusiliers and owner of the Ripton Hall Stud. Regular readers of The London List have long been regaled with her impish adventures, but it is this writer’s duty to report the lovely young lady has settled down in the Welsh countryside in wedded bliss and has left her youthful folly firmly behind her.
It is thought Lady Imaculata’s adventurous antics were a ploy to convince her father to permit her to marry the handsome and heroic army officer, who had saved her life on at least three occasions. Although not a peer of this priceless realm, the major has been proven more than worthy and said father has relented, giving his blessing to the besotted couple. Rumor has it that King George IV has gifted the newlyweds with a silver tray engraved with his likeness. Lady Imaculata is said to be pleased with a present she might pass down to her progeny and her progeny’s progeny.
Page Six:
Wanted: Housekeeper/Cook for Welsh manor house and horse farm. New kitchen equipment, generous wages, pleasant working conditions. Box 59.
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CHAPTER 1
Lady Anne's Lover (The London List) Page 29
