“Jonathan, when I rode out here, it was to decide whether or not to run away. Sharing quarters in Kent Hall with you is impossible. I cannot sleep in your room and be your sister. When I took our vows, I—”
“Shh.” He pulled her into his arms. “You needn’t say another word.”
“But I do. It is just so difficult to tell you. I don’t understand what I’m feeling.”
He held her head against his chest and felt the trembling that coursed through both of them. His hands played in her hair, calming and quieting her the best way he knew. “Payton, you are heart of my heart, breath of my breath. Not a friend, a ward or a sister. None of that for us, Payton. I love you as though you had been a part of me before we were born.”
She leaned back to see his face. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes, I do.” He freed his arms and softly, so as not to frighten her, cupped her face in his hands. She was so small, so tender. His heart felt as if it were being crushed in his chest. “You are more important to me than my own life.”
“And I love you, Sir Jonathan.”
He laughed as his arms encircled her again before she could say another word. She leaned against him. His lips sought hers, gently, reverently endeavoring to convince her of his love. He held her so near, felt the beating of their hearts melt together like gentle wings strumming the air in rhythm.
She returned the embrace and sighed against his shoulder.
His eyes squeezed shut. “How could you love me?” When he opened them, he groaned. “Look at me.”
Her head lifted, and she stared with a smile that could have imprisoned him if only she knew her power over him. “I’m looking.”
“Women love me for my money, not my appearance.”
She ran a finger over his eye, his cheek and his lip where the scar could not be hidden. “Then you have known foolish women in your past. I love you with all of your imperfections as I hope you love me.” She kissed the edge of his lip where the scar ended. “You are the handsomest man I have ever known, not that it would matter about how I feel.” She thought he was handsome.
Digging into the innermost depth of his chest, he sighed aloud. “Imperfections? You have none.” Her free spirit could never be mistaken for an imperfection, but he felt the less said the better at the moment.
“I have many as you are well aware. But if you will love me anyway, I will gladly be your wife in every sense of the word.” Her finger hesitated before running along the scar from his cheek and his lips, where she once again kissed him.
Pulling off his greatcoat as he stood, he laid it on the grass. Then he gently slid her against it and cradled her in his arms.
He could no longer stop the emotions he had been restraining the past week. His lips pressed into hers and he realized how much sweeter she was than clover. She was an innocent and inviting contrast to his great strength, and he sought her full permission as his mouth pleaded with hers. And Jonathan understood the wedding vows for the first time in his life. Caring what they meant before God as he hadn’t meant them when he married Alithea. Payton was his and he was hers. Hurting her would have meant destroying a piece of himself.
As his feelings fanned with expectation, he heard cries. “Sir. Come quickly!”
Jonathan pulled away from Payton, feeling his brow furrow in anger. Who would disturb them at such a time?
* * *
Birdie should not have interrupted them. Not even on Mrs. Brewster’s orders.
Alithea’s gown. How had it come to be in his room? Jonathan now had no doubt in his mind that someone wanted to destroy not only his relationship with Payton, but also Kent Hall. Who would plant this gown in his room?
Obviously, Mrs. Brewster had been frightened. Jonathan gave strict instructions for her to burn the gown before Payton saw it. Then he wasted no time in putting his chamber to rights in the hope that he and Payton might finally share their lives.
He barked orders at the downstairs maids, the upstairs maids and anyone else within the sound of his voice. Birdie and Mr. Kenny rushed once again to remove the extra furniture from his room. He instructed Mrs. Brewster that Payton’s personal items should quickly find a home with his.
And certainly not Alithea’s clothing. How had that happened?
Who was it planting items, filling his home with screams, scaring Payton? If he didn’t discover the culprit soon, they had no chance of a calm life together. Not that it ever would be calm with a woman like Payton. He laughed to think of her flying across the meadows in men’s breeches.
Once Birdie scurried away, Jonathan called Payton’s name, not wanting her so much as a footstep from him.
When she arrived by his side, he scooped her into his arms. “Tell me, Payton. Say the words.”
“What words?” She reached her arms out.
“Please tell me that you love me, dear one. I need to hear you say it.”
She drew his head down and looking about her with a face flamed in red, she whispered in his ear, “I love you, dearest Jonathan.” She touched his cheek with her fingertips and traced them along his face and across his lips. Her fingers lingered on his lip and she circled his mouth tenderly. “I shall love you forever.”
As his arms tightened around her, he dipped his head closer to hers. “Was there ever a man so blessed as I? Was there ever a love so sweet, so complete as my love for you? Why has God seen fit to bring you to me, sweet and kind, loving and good? I don’t deserve to be entrusted with your love.”
“Oh, Jonathan. We are the only persons alive on this earth. The only two who ever knew love before. I swear, Jonathan. The only two.”
His heart swelled, and he closed his eyes, her face overwhelming him with radiance. When he opened them again he said, “I want to be a better man for all my life. Anything for you.”
“You would grant me anything I wished?”
If he could give her the Seven Wonders of the World he would, gladly. But he had only himself and Kent Park, poor substitutes. “Whatever is within my power.”
“I would wish that we could stay here forever with our children and our grandchildren and even our great-grandchildren.” Her blush reminded him that they must be truly alone before they could consider children and grandchildren. Sooner or later they must address the fact they were man and wife without servants and guests claiming his time.
“For now and for always, whatever you desire.” He set her on the floor and held her at arm’s length. His eyes took in the pink covering her cheeks. “But dearest one, we cannot live on love alone. We would become frail skeletons.”
“Oh, Jonathan.”
His stomach rumbled and he grinned. “Do you smell the venison roasting? I must admit, we have to go down for dinner or there will be talk. I am famished of a sudden.”
“If you are to be properly cared for, allow me to go find Mrs. Brewster.”
He smiled. After all, she was to be mistress of the house as well as the mistress of his heart.
* * *
Jonathan stood and pulled back her chair, not at the end of the table, but next to his. Payton’s heart filled with pride at the attention he gave so freely, not as a ploy to fool outsiders. He offered her the plate of food Mrs. Brewster had prepared.
“Thank you, Jonathan.” That he would wait on her and care enough to see to her needs surprised her. This giant of a man, caring about the little things.
She accepted the plate, and smelling the delicious odors of herb-crusted meat and vegetables, she realized how hungry the promise of the day had left her.
His eyes were on her as she inspected the food, but they sparked with mischief when he spoke. “Eat. Keep up your strength, Payton Lambrick. I intend to escort you shopping today.” He leaned in and murmured in her ear. “New breeches. You must have another pair. And I have a present I must pick up.”
She scowled but barely hid the grin at his affability. It would be difficult to hide her feelings from him. “A present? You are all kindness, sir. Will I forever be allowed the freedom of breeches when I ride about Kent?”
“As long as I am master of the house, you will be allowed whatever freedoms you wish. You are an intelligent woman, full of life, and I should never try to subdue you or ask you to compromise who you are. Together, we are one, neither more important than the other.”
She wanted to believe him. But could she believe everything he said? Should she ask about the promise to her father? That niggling doubt continued to plague her. “Jonathan? Do you truly love me?”
He lounged forward in his chair and gazed into her eyes. She quivered under his scrutiny. With his head resting in his hand, he smiled beneath his fingers. “I should love you no matter what you took it into your beautiful head to do. You are my other half, Payton. My better half and nothing you do or say will ever change that. Certainly not a pair of leather breeches. Is that what was bothering you?” Sitting straighter, he pressed forward and dwarfed her hands in his. He drew them to his mouth, and his lips tickled the tips of her fingers.
Mrs. Brewster entered with a smile, and Payton sat straighter, pulling her hands away from the warm den of contentment.
“Mr. Lambrick, dearie. A letter’s come. Forgive me for interrupting.” Mrs. Brewster left the envelope by the edge of his glass, and he opened it immediately as Payton looked on, wondering as to the correspondent.
It was impossible to read his face. His features clouded, were almost guarded. She touched his arm. “Is everything all right?”
He rose and strode to the side table. “A letter from Anne’s mother. She says that Anne has... Well, Fitzhugh apparently tried to force his attentions on her. Her mother doesn’t know who to turn to. As the only brother Anne has—”
“You feel you should go.”
“I should prefer not to, Payton.”
She offered her best smile. Just knowing he didn’t want to leave her was enough. “Shall I go along?”
“No.” He bent and kissed the tip of her nose. “You stay. I’ll go faster on Storm and be back tomorrow. After all, we have Christmas to celebrate in two days, all alone. No foolish guests to take up our time. Besides, I don’t trust Fitzhugh. I would not want you near him if what her mother says is true. I am sorry.”
She curled her fingers around his arm and drew herself out of the chair, decidedly sad they would once again be separated just as they tried to truly commit to one another. “Take care, Jonathan. I cannot lose you.” His breath troubled the hair on top of her head, and she trembled at the feelings the gesture invoked. One day would be too long, but her question concerning her father could wait. He had enough on his mind.
His hands dug into her arms, and he leaned back and stared. “Nor I you, my darling.”
Chapter 11
An hour later as he left the property, he spied Payton flying over the lands, her hair whipping her face. With her breeches on, no one would recognize her as a woman, save for the hair. His heart filled with love, and he nearly whirled around and returned to her, forgetting Anne entirely. But Lady Newbury would not have summoned him if she had not needed him. Duty called.
Would he and Payton never truly be husband and wife?
Storm roared beneath him and over the highway toward the Newbury Estate just outside of London. The animal’s hooves pounded the ground in rhythm to Jonathan’s heart. He feared for Anne, the way she maneuvered herself into the paths of spineless young men with no thoughts to protecting her, only of obtaining what they might from her. As her only brother, he took it upon himself, as he had for Alithea, to keep her safe and out of the way of such fops.
* * *
A storm churned strong before Payton and Winter could retrace their path to Kent Hall. Wet hair plastered her cheeks, and her breeches stuck to her legs, causing them to itch. She pushed back her hair and pulled hard on Winter’s reins. Steering into the wind, the cold penetrated even the hearty leather clothes.
Hearing pounding hooves behind her, she expected to turn around and spy Jonathan on Storm. But all she saw was a hand with a club.
Payton shook her head to clear it. Where was she? Rain no longer pummeled her; she could feel sun on her skin. A bag covered her face and her hands were twisted together within restraints. Someone grabbed for her ankles and she kicked hard. But raw strength overpowered her and ropes soon ensnared her feet, as well.
Hours passed as she grew colder and more frightened. Who would want to hurt her?
A door closed and a familiar voice penetrated her haze. “Well, he did it. The entire charade was for his guests, but he did it. He is rid of the snip.”
Now another man spoke. “Whittard, I find it hard to believe Jonathan Lambrick ever married her in the first place. Why would he?”
“To protect her from me. Then he understood just what the marriage would mean to ’is position, and he got hold of me quick enough. She can go home with me and the missus and we’ll find her work. I owe that much to my poor, dead brother.”
Her uncle? Why would Jonathan engage her uncle? She struggled but the bindings tightened.
“Lambrick feared she might find her way back to Kent, so he had us take her. She won’t be goin’ back home after we cross enough ground. Our place is near the sea. Maybe she can earn her keep as a barmaid. She’d better. I don’t want no parasites livin’ off me.”
Payton shuddered. He intended to keep her? Where was Jonathan? She did not believe for one minute he had planned this.
* * *
Though the Newbury estate had run down considerably after Colin Newbury’s death, Jonathan recognized that Anne did her best to maintain it. Grateful the property had not been entailed on a male heir, he believed Anne had enough to support her and her ailing mother in comfort. He could still imagine the grounds as they had been just a few years ago, with gentle sloping meadows full of the finest horses.
He reached for Anne’s hand and tried to read her face. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, Jonathan. I am humiliated for Mother bringing you out on a fool’s errand.” She strolled into the parlor, where hot tea awaited them. She poured out and passed him a cup.
His hand wrapped about the dainty china. This was beginning to feel like a social visit. “But her letter?”
Her face clouded and she looked him in the eye as he rose. “Mother isn’t well, Jonathan. She misunderstood what I told her about Wallace. He never... Well, she shouldn’t have alarmed you.”
Jonathan leaned back and shook his head. “But her letter.” He rose from the chair.
“Mother hears things. Sees people when they aren’t even there. She told me the other evening she had spoken with father, and he’s been dead for years. I am truly sorry she brought you on a fool’s errand. Go home. I have no doubt Payton needs you more than I.”
He would like to speak with her mother, but Anne was correct in saying that he belonged at home with Payton. Signaling for his coat, he turned on his heel.
* * *
The dusty hood came off Payton’s head long enough for her to be fed a stale piece of bread and some water. A man knelt in front of her as she thought of escape. Though she mentally devised ways to kick him as he fed her, she waited. Kicking him now would throw her off balance and she might fall into him. No telling what might happen if she were to fall against those brawny arms. She shuddered and tears welled but with courage enough she spit bread into the man’s face. “Where am I?”
As he swiped at the crumbs, she heard
a bellowing voice enter the room. “Here now. What’s that all about? Why are you actin’ foul to my wife’s brother? He was just helpin’ you to have a bite.”
“Uncle?”
His arms spread wide, but his smile soured her stomach. “My own precious little niece. My own flesh and blood.” His teeth oozed dark brown in the creases and she wished he would close his mouth or turn away.
“What am I doing here, Uncle?”
“I’ve come to take ya home, child. Home where ya belong. The missus is fixin’ a room for ya as we speak. Sorry I wasn’t in time to protect you from that Lambrick fella. But be assured he won’t find ya where we’re goin’.”
“But we’re married, Uncle. I am Mrs. Jonathan Lambrick.”
“Never fear. I already talked to Miss Anne Newbury. Ran into her at the inn. She explained the whole thing.”
“Anne? What do you mean you spoke with Anne?”
“We’ll get the marriage annulled. You wait an’ see.”
He couldn’t do that, could he? She was Jonathan’s true and legal bride. No one could separate them. “I don’t want it annulled.” And what was he talking about Anne? She couldn’t have anything to do with her uncle!
“Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to!”
She twisted her head away when he raised his hand, but she felt the brunt of his wrath in his words. Turning onto her side, she cried until no more tears came. Oh, Jonathan, where are you?
* * *
“She don’t even have a dress. What am I supposed to do with her? Why not let her work in the stable with you?”
Edgar’s wife paced the floor with Payton tied to a chair. Rusted pans hung on a metal spike over the fire and benches sat astride a long wooden table propped up by a slab of wood on one corner. Her aunt, if she were in fact even married to Uncle Edgar, walked hunched over with a slight limp. Her hair fell in long strings of dirty brown and her teeth were worse than Edgar’s. She made no attempt to smile at Payton.
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