“You have not touched your food. We will not stop again before nightfall.”
His tone sent a shiver coursing through her, but she did not look away from the painting. “I would rather starve than break bread with you.”
He chuckled. “We will see how you feel about that on the morrow.”
A deep chill grabbed her bones. She had to get away from him. Perhaps tonight as he slumbered she could make a run for it. By the time he woke, she would be back in London, and a constable would be on his way to capture the fiend.
A risky plan, but her choices were limited. If she could beat him back to London, she may be able to protect those he threatened. She would need a disguise to get past his men’s prying eyes. No, she could not risk alerting anyone. She would go directly to the constable. A sound plan…she hoped.
She slanted a glance at him. A dribble of stew ran from his lip and he swiped at it with his sleeve. Her insides churned with disgust. Newgate would be too good for him.
He signaled to a bar maid, lifted his glass, and drained the remaining ale. “Time for us to take our leave, pet.” He tossed some coins onto the table before moving to her side. “Take my arm.”
She stood, but could not will herself to touch him.
“Now.” He pushed the command through clenched teeth.
As she took a step toward the door, he clutched her elbow.
“Need I remind you how to behave like a proper woman?” He jerked her back into motion. “You will pay for your insolence.”
The driver opened the carriage door while Wolfe marched her toward the conveyance. He thrust her inside, climbing in after her. Once the door closed, she heard the latch slide into place locking them inside. Both her hip and shoulder throbbed from the earlier abuse she suffered as she righted herself on the bench.
The carriage jerked into motion, tossing her against the seat. Rose’s head smacked against the hard wall of the conveyance. Previous experience should have told her to steel herself for the impact. She reached up and rubbed the bump already forming beneath her chignon.
Wolfe tapped the window. A moment later, the driver’s face appeared. “Do not stop again until nightfall.”
* * * *
Hunter pushed his mount hard toward Scotland. He had taken a moment to check the first several establishments he passed, but no one had seen anyone matching Rose or Wolfe’s descriptions. It proved to be a fool’s errand that only cost him precious time.
His best bet would be to reach Gretna Green before Wolfe did. It had to be the final destination. A marriage license was not easy to come by, especially when the bride was unwilling. So, how did Wolfe intend to make her cooperate? Even in Gretna Green, you could not force marriage upon an unwilling bride.
His gut twisted. Wolfe could have done any number of things to force Rose’s hand. If only he could find her along the way. Save her from whatever Wolfe had planned to make her consent.
Anger boiled within him and he pushed his mount harder. He would ride straight through the night, stopping only to switch horses. Once he found her he would have Wolfe locked away. Seeing the man dead would be more satisfying, but Hunter was no murderer. As much as he wished he could kill Wolfe for his transgressions, he knew he could never make good on it.
An establishment came into view. He would stop to switch his horse there. The last several hours of hard riding were getting to the beast and dusk was closing in. It would be easier to get a fresh horse while there was still a bit of light. His mount did not resist the pace, but it would not serve to ride the thing to its death.
Carriage wheels crunched behind him. Hunter glanced back. Wolfe? He pulled reins, slowing his mount. His heart pounding, he studied the conveyance as it passed. The curtains were wide open, reveling the sole traveler inside. A bold crest covered the door. His heart sank. It was not Wolfe. He squeezed his thighs against his mount, pushing it on. The inn stood no more than a furlong ahead of him.
He would take the time to inquire inside before continuing toward Scotland. Mayhap someone there might have seen Rose or Wolfe. Even if they traveled by carriage—God, how he hoped they did—they would have to stop at some point to change horses. He guided his mount to the lad stationed near the inn’s entrance.
“I need a fresh horse without delay.” Hunter dismounted, handing the reins to the lad.
“Right away, my lord.”
“Tell me, have you seen a woman with auburn hair and crisp green eyes pass through?”
“I have seen a great many women who fit that description.”
“This one is rather short, her eyes the shade of grass. She smells of honeysuckle and was last seen in a blue-velvet riding habit.”
The lad nodded. “I have seen one recently fitting your description.”
“When did you see her? Where?”
“She arrived with a man about twenty minutes ago. He had me put the horse and carriage up, but ordered it to be ready at first light. I found it odd because she appears to be a lady but the man is clearly not of the aristocracy.”
Hunter knew his grin looked dark when the lad flinched. He reached into his pocket and handed him a coin. “You did good, lad. Let us keep this between us. You hurry out with a fresh horse and I will get on my way.”
The boy smiled before turning to switch the horse.
Hunter slipped quietly to the side of the inn and pressed his body against it. He could not afford to tip Wolfe off. If he made his presence known, the man might do something rash. Rose could be hurt.
ENCHANTED BY THE EARL
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Hunter rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he paced between two oak trees across the street from the inn. He had been at it all night, constantly fighting sleep and exhaustion, but never taking his eyes off the structure. Still, he had no idea what to do about the situation. He could not march in and break down doors, as he wanted to.
He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. Dawn would be upon him soon. He would have to act or risk losing her. The latter was not an option. He moved to his mount and ran a hand down its neck. Once he rescued Rose, he would retrieve his horse. It would be necessary to secure a carriage as well for their return trip to Roselawn.
The first rays of sun peaked over the horizon, turning the night sky various shades of pink. Well, it was now or never. Hunter lifted a prayer as he crept back to the inn.
A different lad stood near the entrance than the one he had met the previous night. This one was taller and a bit broader of shoulder. He appeared to be several years older, too.
“My lord.” The lad bowed.
An idea formed in Hunter’s mind and he flashed a smile. “Might you be of assistance?”
“Yes, my lord. You have but to ask.”
“Are you to be trusted?” He knew not whether the lad would be honest, but still felt the need to ask.
The lad nodded. “Mother says it is my best quality.”
“Very good. Here is what I need.” Hunter leaned in close and whispered his plan. “Do you think you can do that?”
The lad met his gaze. “Yes, my lord.”
“Perfect.” When Hunter handed him a couple of coins, the lad’s eyes grew large.
“It is a great deal of money, my lord.” A wide smile curled his lips.
“If all goes to plan, you can count on more.”
“I will not disappoint you, my lord.”
Hunter nodded before ducking around the side of the inn. He crouched down beside a shrub, keeping his back against the building’s hard facade. Somewhere in the distance, birds chirped and a horse neighed. The last of the night’s stars faded against the brightening sky. It would not be long now.
“I ordered my carriage ready at first light. Where is it, you incompetent brat?” Wolfe’s voice boomed from around the corner.
Hunter held his breath, waiting for the lad’s reply. His pulse beat in his throat.
“I am afraid there was an incident. You had better come see.”
Hunter
grinned. Perfect. The lad’s tone oozed confidence, giving nothing away.
“What is this foolishness?” Wolfe bellowed. “Stop this nonsense and bring my carriage forth. Can you not see my wife is ready to be on our way?”
Fury spread through Hunter. It took every ounce of his control to stay in place. He unclenched his fists. Not yet.
“You really must come see it for yourself, sir.”
“I will have your job for this. Come along, darling.”
The crunch of pebbles mixed with the pounding in Hunter’s head. The plan had failed. He straightened and darted around the building.
Wolfe grabbed Rose, pulling her close against him. “Lord Aubry, how kind of you to show up. I suggest you halt right there.” He drew a pistol out of his great coat and held it to Rose’s head.
Hunter froze. Protectiveness raged through him. He could not allow Wolfe to take his Rose. Her face was pale, her eyes filled with panic. He looked back at Wolfe. “You do not want to hurt her.”
“Indeed.” He aimed the gun at Hunter. “I would much prefer to see you dead.” Wolfe squeezed the trigger.
“No!” Rose screamed and flailed her arm hitting Wolfe’s as the gun discharged.
The lad lunged toward Wolfe, tumbling them both to the ground and landing with a thud upon him. The gun skidded across the stones.
Hunter rushed forward, diving for the pistol. Stones scraped his hands and dust burned his eyes. He closed his fingers around the weapon, ignoring the thumping of his heart.
“Get off of me.” Wolfe rolled over, squishing the lad beneath him before struggling to his feet.
Hunter held the pistol on him. “You will not be going anywhere, Wolfe.” He nodded toward the boy. “Lad?”
“Yes, my lord?”
“Go inside straight away and get some assistance.”
“She belongs to me.” Wolfe lunged toward Rose, taking her to the ground. He placed his hands around her throat holding her against the dusty drive. “I will kill her before I will give her to you.”
Hunter tucked the gun in his coat and barreled toward Wolfe, knocking him away from Rose. The man swung, connecting with Hunter’s jaw. Rose’s shouts filled the air.
“Get away from him, Wolfe.” Anger radiated from her tone. She took hold of Wolfe’s coat, but he jerked free sending her to the ground.
Hunter landed a solid punch to Wolfe’s temple. Wolfe slumped to the ground and his eyes slid closed. Hunter stood, dusting off his breeches.
Rose ran to him and squeezed him close. He held her against him, burying his face in her honeysuckle-scented hair. His heart swelled with relief, but also something more. “Let us get you home.”
She blinked up at him. “To my cottage?”
“I am afraid it will take a bit more time to get your home back.” He feathered a finger across her cheek, sweeping away a tear. He could not let her go. “Rose, I have been a fool. I love you. I have loved you since the night I caught you in breeches, but refused to admit it—even to myself.” He dipped down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I see now how dense I have been. Can you ever forgive me?”
A slow grin spread across her pink lips. “I tried not to…I did not want…I knew we could not.” She pressed her lips together, stopping the swirl of nonsensical sentences trying to make their way out of her mouth. “I love you, too.”
He leaned in and kissed her fully. She parted her lips for him and his tongue plundered her mouth, devouring her sweetness. How had he even contemplated letting her get away? He pulled back, gazing down at her. “Elope with me.”
“I cannot. You are a lord.” She glanced away. “It is not done.”
He put his fingers under her chin and guided her gaze back to his. “Sometimes it is, and I do not give a whit for society’s dictates. I love you. I want you to be my wife. Say you will marry me.”
“There is nothing I want more.” Her smile trembled and her eyes sparkled with joy.
He slanted his head, joining his lips to hers. She met his movements eagerly as he pulled her closer, their tongues swirling together in a passionate dance.
“There he is, on the ground.” The lad's voice rang out.
Hunter turned his head, breaking the kiss. A man knelt on the ground between him and Wolfe, the lad waited a pace behind. “I am a constable. I will see to it this vermin arrives at Newgate.”
Hunter led Rose over to the lad. He could not bring himself to let her go. Not for a single moment. “You did me a great service today.”
“It was nothing, my lord.”
Hunter dug in his pocket and produced a handful of coins. “Do not be modest. You risked your life for us.” He pressed them into the boy’s palm.
“I did not do it for the coins.”
“I know. I want you to have them.”
The lad stared at the money, and grinned before closing his fist around it.
“Might I have your name?” Hunter offered a smile.
“William Bontray, my lord.” The lad notched his chin up.
Hunter gave Rose a little squeeze. “William, it seems the lady and I are in need of a carriage and driver. I would like to hire you on for the latter. A permanent position as her driver.”
A large smile bowed the boy’s lips. “Me?”
Hunter glanced at Rose.
“I cannot think of anyone better suited for the job.” She leaned against him.
He gave her waist a gentle squeeze. “Nor can I.”
“I am honored, my lord. I will get a rig ready and we will be off in no time.” William ran for the stables.
* * * *
Rose could not quite get over the past week’s events. Hunter had slain her wolf, whisking her off to safety. He was her hero whether or not he accepted the praise.
They had reached Scotland the previous evening, but Hunter had insisted on waiting to visit the blacksmith’s shop in Gretna Green. He wanted her to have a bath and a fresh gown for the nuptials, insisting he only planned to wed the love of his life once and wanted it to be perfect.
Her heart swelled at the memory as she gazed at him over the anvil. Somehow, Gran, Lady Julia, and Sinclair had also found their way to Scotland. The trio stood nearby watching. She did not know how it had all worked out, but today could not be more perfect.
She repeated the words of matrimony, her heart bubbling over with love.
Hunter’s smile never left his face. He rubbed slow circles with his thumbs over her hands throughout the ceremony, his gaze pinned on hers. When they were announced husband and wife, he broke the space between them and pulled her against him.
She stared up at him, smiling.
He took her mouth in a breathtaking kiss, sealing their vows.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, giving herself fully, meeting every swirl of his tongue, holding nothing back.
He pulled away and gazed deep into her eyes. “Shall we embark on the rest our lives, wife?”
She nibbled her swollen lip. “Indeed, husband.” The word made her giddy with joy. In that moment, Rose knew she would be loved until the end of her days.
WISH UPON A KISS
MEARA PLATT
WISH UPON A KISS
CHAPTER ONE
Lake District, England
May 1815
“Oh, dear me!” Lady Winifred Kingsley had never been chosen to be a May Fair princess before, but everyone who lived in the quaint town of Grasmere knew that it was a great honor and never to be taken lightly. May princesses could never be late to the annual fair, for the festivities would not officially start until the queen and her entire court were assembled in the sprawling meadow in the heart of town.
The opening ceremony was a rather silly affair consisting of the princesses dancing around the maypole while Lady Darkwell, somehow always chosen as their queen, sat on her oaken throne with a sour expression on her face, and a piper tootled an ancient tune on his hornpipe.
“My crown!” Winnie stumbled over her own two feet as sh
e hastily scooped up the entwined circle of vivid blue forget-me-nots and thrust it on her head before racing from Kingsley Hall, the tumble-down manor house where she lived with her three slightly dotty godmothers, Harmony, Serenity, and Prudence Merridale.
She turned onto the roadway leading into town, her gown hiked to her knees as she increased her stride, already trying to think of excuses for her tardiness. Of course, had she been concentrating on her path and not on those ridiculous excuses, she would have seen the gentleman standing beside her gate and avoided running straight into him.
Unfortunately, she did not notice him until it was too late.
“Oof!” She bounced off his hard chest and would have fallen backwards, tripping over the large pouch on the ground by his side, had the gentleman not caught her by the waist and drawn her close to steady her. Suddenly, she found herself breathless for reasons other than her haste.
She blinked and tried not to stare at his broad shoulders or his golden hair that gleamed in the bright morning sun. “Forgive me, sir!”
But it was impossible for her to turn away, for he was tall and trim, and decidedly muscled. He reminded her of a proud Viking warrior and certainly could pass as one. However, his attire more closely resembled that of a pirate and he did look the part, every detail precise down to the sword in the scabbard strapped to his thigh. All he lacked was a black patch over one eye to complete the roguish portrait. “Did I hurt you?” she asked.
He appeared surprised that she had spoken to him. Perhaps he was surprised she’d asked the question since she had been the one to suffer the impact of their collision.
He said nothing, merely staring at her with the most exquisite blue eyes she’d ever beheld. Winnie let out a tittering laugh that was silly enough to be echoed by a bird perched on one of the nearby trees. Of course, the stranger heard the chirping bird and grinned. Could her humiliation be more complete? “Ah, well. I see that you’re unharmed.” And gorgeous! “I must be off.”
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