To Make a Marriage

by Cheryl Anne Porter

  Spencer stared at Edward. “My dear earl, you have missed your calling. You must immediately pen a horrifically hair-raising novel for the enjoyment of the masses.”

  Edward nodded his agreement. “I have thought of doing just that.”

  “Lovely for you. In the meantime, could we permit our attention to linger where it is needed? We must face the truth. Except for his servants, we are the only ones present. The man is not here.”

  “Did you really expect him to be, old man? Perhaps awaiting us with refreshments and a musicale for our enjoyment?”

  “I know it’s hard, but don’t be ridiculous, Edward.”

  Looking around, frowning, Edward absently hit his bowler hat against his thigh, producing a soft whump-whump of sound. “I feel like such an intruder.”

  “That’s because we are.” Spencer crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t quite know how to proceed from here. We’ve done what we can by searching the house and the grounds and questioning his staff—”

  “We did far more than question them. We imprisoned them in a room on the top floor.” Edward made a face. “I didn’t really like doing that.”

  “Neither did I,” Spencer admitted. “But there’s no sense in allowing them the run of the place and giving one or more of them the opportunity to abscond without our knowing it and go warn the man, if they indeed know where he is and simply won’t tell us. Even if they don’t, they’re safest where they are for the moment. Hopefully, this will soon be over and we can free them, no harm done.”

  “Except to their pride. And won’t they have a tale to tell then,” Victoria said.

  Spencer smiled. “Hopefully, a tale of our heroism.”

  She returned his smile, but he could see the fear in her eyes. “Such a tale with my name attached? Hmmm. A new sort of gossip and scandal to embarrass my family. How fresh.”

  “Yes. Heroism,” Edward cut in, clearly impressed with himself. “That should put me in good stead with Miss Lucinda Barrett.”

  “First we must live through the day, Edward,” Spencer reminded him.

  “Yes, there is that.” But the faraway look in his eyes told Spencer his cousin was already seeing his name in banner headlines.

  “Be all that as it may,” Spencer said loudly, clamping his hands to his waist and dividing his attention between his cousin and his wife. “Where is the man? We know his absence here has nothing to do with running from us, as he isn’t aware, as far as we know, that we are on to him.”

  “But he easily could divine as much, Spencer,” Edward said, for once serious. “After all, these events began last night. Plenty of time for his henchmen to inform him. And plenty of time for him to realize Miss Cicely now has no reason to remain silent. Surely, he will intuit exactly who she would first inform—and why.”

  Spencer rubbed his knuckles across his chin as he thought out loud. “Yes, of course. And Miss Cicely did tell us he would be here. Her gift for the sight aside, I have to agree with her. With his game being up, he can now only hope to cover his trail, first by destroying any incriminating papers he would have stored here, and then by leaving town quickly. As his personal belongings are still here and his study is not torn apart, as one would expect if he’d been in a panic to do that—and because he has had since last night as you said, Edward—then I am afraid we must assume he intends to confront us.”

  “Oh, my God, Spencer.” Victoria rigidly gripped her chair’s armrests. “Jefferson. He’ll seek out my brother first.”

  Spencer went to her and squatted in front of her, covering her hands with his. “No, my dear, no. Think. He could get nowhere close to your brother today without first being detected. There’s not a soul in attendance today who does not know Loyal Atherton should not be at River’s End. Besides, my love, you know it’s not your brother he wants. It’s you.”

  “But that’s just it, Spencer. He doesn’t know I’m here. He thinks I’m there. At River’s End. Don’t forget he knows every back road to the plantation that I do. And we got cleanly away. He could just as easily, and undetected, sneak in using those same routes. Why, he could already be lying in wait out there and could have been since last night after he found out—”

  “Victoria, my love, calm down. If what you’re saying were true, he would have acted last night. Maybe in the middle of the night. But he didn’t. I believe he didn’t know how his plot was foiled until sometime today, if even yet. Really, can you imagine his henchmen were all that eager to report to him their failure without first making their own search? Only when it proved fruitless, as we know it did, would they tell him—”

  “But his own servants said he hadn’t had any visitors today.”

  “Of course he didn’t. Do you really think, my dear, given servants’ gossip, he has his nefarious meetings in his home with these ruffians? All we know, from questioning his staff, is he’s been gone since mid-morning and he left in a hired carriage. Now, we have no way of knowing how his henchmen contact him or at what intervals—”

  “Pirates House!”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “A rough saloon and meeting house close to the river. It would be ideal. He could be there.”

  Spencer rose to his feet. “Hmm. My first inclination is to rush there to catch him, the bastard. But I daresay we’d have to fight the entire place to get to him. I don’t like those odds.”

  “It’s clear thinking like that, Spencer, old man, that makes you a valuable member of Parliament.”

  “Thank you, Edward.” Spencer narrowed his eyes at his cousin and then focused on his wife. “I believe we have no choice but to wait for him to come to us here. This is the man’s home. He will eventually return here.” He smiled. “Besides, Miss Cicely said he would be here.”

  “So we will wait,” Victoria said. “I can’t say, though, that I’m anxious to see him. Although I would like the opportunity to slap his face for the way he accosted me in my own parlor.”

  Her bringing that day up suddenly brought to Spencer’s mind a question he’d meant to ask her before now. “Victoria, on that day, what did he want? I mean I know he”—Spencer’s temper flared, making him grit his teeth and swallow hard—“kissed you, but in the interim, with everything else that’s happened, I never thought to ask.”

  If it were possible, she suddenly seemed even smaller than she was. She would barely look him in the eye. Spencer again went to her and squatted down in front of her, his knees spread to either side of her legs. He took her hands in his and held them. “I love you, Victoria. And I know you love me. I want you also to know that I don’t blame you for any of this. I truly don’t. You were an innocent, my sweet. But I just wonder what the man intended to accomplish by calling on you that day. Truly. It could be important.”

  Her expression softening, she stroked his cheek. Behind him, Spencer could hear Edward sniff and clear his throat. No doubt, the younger man was uncomfortable in the extreme with what should be a very private, domestic moment. “You are the most wonderful of men, Spencer,” his very beautiful wife said. “And the most forgiving. I am such a lucky woman.”

  Spencer captured her hand and kissed her palm. “There is nothing to forgive. And it is I who am lucky. That a woman such as you could ever love me—”

  “Oh, I say, I will absolutely swoon if you keep on in this vein. For heaven’s sake, you’re already married. And yes, I know: ‘Shut up, Edward.’ But I won’t. Our villain could come home at any moment, as we have all agreed, and there our horses are—tethered right out front on the street. I daresay that three such large specimens of horseflesh would be a dead giveaway as to the man’s having company he will not be amused, to put it mildly, to see.”

  Still clasping Victoria’s hands in his, Spencer pivoted around and stared up at his cousin. “Are you quite done, Lord Roxley?”

  Edward pursed his lips and looked stubborn. “I believe I am, Your Grace.”

  Eyeing his cousin with what he hoped was a clear threat in his narrow
ed eyes, Spencer said, “Good. Then why don’t you go move the horses around back where they’re not so obvious?”

  “And if our villain returns through the alley—and there I am out there with the horses? What do I do then?”

  “Clearly, you shoot him,” Spencer said seriously before returning his attention to his wife.

  But Edward apparently wasn’t done. “And if I shoot him and kill him, will you vouch for me with the police?”

  Spencer exhaled, smiled at Victoria, whose eyes had rounded—her most usual expression when he and Edward got into it—and again gave Edward his attention. “No, I will not. I will allow you to rot here in jail, and I will tell your mother you were lost at sea on our voyage home, much to the relief of many an anxious husband in England. Does that answer your question?”

  “Quite admirably, yes.”

  “Good. Then please go see to the horses and be careful, will you? I’ve no heart for a gun battle in the streets of Savannah to defend your person.”

  His expression pinching into a sour snit, Edward stuffed his hat down on his head, pivoted sharply on his heel, and wordlessly marched out of the room. He slammed the parlor door behind him, stalked loudly down the short hall, jerked open the front door and then, going by the sounds and the dictates of logic, stepped out and slammed it behind him.

  Spencer showed his long-suffering expression to his wife. “The silly fool gave not one thought to Loyal Atherton’s possibly being right out front, did he?”

  Victoria grinned. “You love him dearly, don’t you?”

  “Oh, quite so, but I must never let him know. I’m the only person in the world he’s afraid of and so will mind. Now, my dear, what were you going to tell me about what our absent host had to say on the day he came to call?”

  The mirth bled slowly from Victoria’s expression. As he waited for her to speak of something he knew would be hard for her, he raked his loving gaze over her delicate features. She was incredibly beautiful with her wonderfully pale skin and high forehead and her rounded chin. Like a porcelain doll. Her unruly deep auburn hair cascaded in waves around her face and shoulders, emphasizing her large blue eyes and the shadow of the hollows under her cheekbones. Her pink lips, so very kissable, were just then thinned into an anxious line.

  She lowered her gaze to where Neville crouched. “He said he’d just known I’d come back to him, I remember that.”

  “He’d known? He didn’t mean literally, I presume. Unless he too has the Sight.”

  She managed a fleeting smile. “No, of course not. But I believe he was counting on the letter, which did work in getting me back here.”

  “Yes, it did.” Spencer’s heart nearly leaped right out of his chest with fear for her. Dear God, she’d been so dangerously vulnerable until he’d arrived here. He thanked the heavens that she’d been at River’s End where the man was not welcome and therefore could not have easily got to her himself.

  Victoria’s expression crumpled as she leaned forward to rest her forehead on Spencer’s shoulder. “I was such a fool, Spencer. How could I have—”

  “Shh. Don’t.” He put his arms around her and held her, feeling her shoulders shake as she quietly cried. Intense anger shot through Spencer for the man who could have hurt her so badly, who used her so terribly and then hadn’t stood by her—But wait. Had he wanted to stand by her? And had he been prevented from doing so? Spencer remembered wondering that before, but he hadn’t asked her, fearing, as he had, her answer. But now he knew she loved him and so had nothing to fear from this other man. At least, not where his wife’s feelings were concerned.

  Shot through with urgency, Spencer eased Victoria back, holding her by her arms. Her tear-stained and reddened face, with damp tendrils of hair clinging to her skin, nearly tore Spencer’s heart loose from its moorings. He helped her wipe away her tears and the hair from her face. “Victoria, could it be that Loyal Atherton fancies he loves you? What I mean is once you were, uh, compromised, did he state his wish to do the honorable thing and offer you marriage?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “I see. Then, why did that not happen? No one more than me is happy that it did not, but it seems such a neat solution—and much less scandalous than your being dragged off to England. Thank God you were, because now you’re mine. But why didn’t your parents go that easier route?”

  Looking suddenly shy, she absently tugged yet another strand of hair behind her ear. “By all rights, it should have happened that way. Loyal was a dear friend of Jefferson’s until … that happened to me. He was also a welcome guest at River’s End and almost a part of our family.”

  “Was he courting you?”

  “I suppose. But I was never serious about him, Spencer, not as he was about me. I wasn’t casual, by any means, but I wasn’t thinking marriage, that’s for certain. But then that happened … I mean the…”

  The catch in her voice had Spencer squeezing her hand reassuringly. “It’s all right. I know what you mean.”

  She inhaled deeply and exhaled softly. “I don’t think you do. Not entirely. You see, being with him … like that … was not something I wanted, Spencer. I want you to know that. He was a houseguest at that time and came into my room at night and … as much as seduced and coerced me into the act. It happened before I knew it was, really. He wasn’t brutal, but neither would he take no for an answer. I was quite overpowered.”

  “The bastard!” This story was one of the hardest things Spencer had ever had to listen to—not for his sake, but for hers. “Where was Neville? He damned near killed me when I as much as threw you on the bed—quite mistakenly, too.”

  The dog, apparently upon hearing his name, sat up alertly and woofed at Spencer. Victoria reached over and rubbed the bloodhound’s ears. “He was out hunting.”

  “Of course. Did your father know that? About the attack, I mean?”

  She gave her head a vehement shake. “Dear God, no. I couldn’t even scream; I was so shocked … during. But afterward, I was afraid to tell Daddy. I was afraid he would kill Loyal and go to prison for it. I couldn’t have stood that.”

  Spencer stared into her guileless, innocent blue eyes. She had already borne so much, and he had significantly added to her load in the past few months. Why, he was no better than Loyal Atherton and in more ways than he cared to admit. “And so, instead, you poor girl, you bore in silence the knowledge of this unwanted attack on your person.”

  She wouldn’t look at him. “You make me sound so noble.”

  He tipped her chin up until she was forced to look into his eyes. “You were. You still are. But, tell me, Victoria, why wouldn’t your father simply allow the marriage with him—But hold on. You said you didn’t tell your father what happened to you. Who did?”

  “Loyal, of course. He was the only other one who knew. The very next morning, he went to my father and said that we had … consummated our relationship.”

  “The very next—? That you—? The bastard!” A surge of shock and outrage had Spencer on his feet before he even realized it. Neville came to his feet and growled low in his throat. “Oh, shut up, Neville. I wouldn’t hurt her for anything in the world, and well you know it. Now, sit down.” When the dog did, Spencer blinked and met his wife’s wide-eyed gaze. “Amazing. But still, Victoria, I don’t understand. If Loyal Atherton was a friend of the family, why wouldn’t your father simply allow him to marry you?”

  A ghost of a smile appeared on Victoria’s lips. “He was willing that I should. He even demanded it. But I refused. I said I would run away and live in the swamp with Miss Cicely before I’d marry Loyal Atherton.”

  Completely taken aback—and just as surprised that he would be, knowing his wife’s spirit—Spencer chuckled. “I should have known. But perhaps it works differently in America than it does England. You could simply refuse and your father would allow that?”

  “Oh, there was nothing simple about it. Over the next few days, there were many scenes and harsh words and tears and fights
and threats to lock me in my room until I consented.”

  “I say. Did he ever actually lock you in your room?” Once again, Spencer found reason to chastise himself. Like her father, he too had attempted to lock her away until she cooperated. He began to be concerned for the entire male species’ brutish tendencies. It was a wonder any woman anywhere had anything to do with any man anywhere at any time, he mused.

  “Yes, he locked me in once,” Victoria was saying. “That was following a particularly bad fight after he found out that Loyal had told everyone in Savannah that I had invited him into my bed and then refused him marriage.”

  Spencer fisted his hands at his waist. “I must say it again—the bastard! But did he—I mean your father—let you out when he calmed down?”

  “No. Sometimes Daddy doesn’t calm down for days. I couldn’t risk that, so I climbed out the window and down the oak tree that grows outside my bedroom window.”

  Horrified, Spencer stared at her. “If any of our children takes after you, Victoria, I shall have no recourse except to drown myself.”

  “Understood.” She, too, wore a very serious expression.

  Spencer fought a grin. “But what did you do once you had reached the ground? Did you run away to Miss Cicely?”

  “No, silly. She would have sent me right back to River’s End. Instead, I went around front and knocked on the door, just to let Daddy know I could get out if I chose to. You should have seen his face when he opened the door, one of the rare times that he ever did.”

  Spencer began to be very afraid for himself. “I shall hazard a guess here. That was when he conceived of his plan to bring you to England, wasn’t it?”

  Looking very prim and harmless, she said: “We left the very next day.”

  For long seconds, Spencer could only stare at her. But then he gave a great laughing whoop of joy that startled her and Neville. Spencer snatched his wife up from the chair, held her close and slowly swung around with her, much to the bloodhound’s baying protest. Ignoring the dog, Spencer kissed his wife and laughed as he never had before in his life. She’d flung her arms around his neck and laughed and kissed him and cried out her happiness—