by Cheryl Holt
Why was she so hesitant? If she wasn’t sure, she had to speak up and announce that she couldn’t continue. Was that what she wanted? Would she embarrass Lambert and disgrace herself?
She couldn’t decide the best course and was so overwhelmed that she felt dizzy.
Lambert pulled her to her feet. Her hands were like ice, and she was trembling.
“Faith!” he said. “You’re shaking! What’s wrong? You’re not afraid, are you? Tell me you’re not. I’ll be horribly crushed if you are.”
Alice stood too, and she moved so she was very close to Faith, her skirt brushing Faith’s own.
“Don’t be scared, Faith,” Alice said. “It’s easy to repeat the vows, and the ceremony goes very quickly.”
“Not too quickly, I hope,” Lambert jested. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for an eternity. I plan to enjoy every second.” He slipped her quaking hand into the crook of his arm and leaned nearer. “It will be over before you know it.”
“Yes, I’m certain it will be,” she murmured.
He faced the vicar. “We’re ready, sir.”
The vicar stared at Faith. “Are you ready, Miss Newton? You seem a tad under the weather. Do you wish to proceed?”
Faith gaped at the minister, at Lambert, at Alice. They were all smiling, all optimistic and eager to help her become a bride. What reason was there not to proceed?
She nodded. “I’m ready.”
“Good,” he beamed. “Then let’s begin.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lambert clutched Faith’s hand as tightly as he could, almost as if he worried she might float away. Very soon the ceremony would be over, and she’d be his bride. Her dowry was so near to being his, he could practically smell the money that would flow into his bank account.
Then…ah…then the pressure would ease.
“Mr. Newton?”
He realized the vicar was speaking. “Yes?”
“The vows are important. Please pay attention.”
“I most humbly apologize.”
“It’s all right,” the vicar said. “The notion of matrimony can be alarming to some men, but it’s really not that bad.”
Lambert smiled a fake smile. “I’m not alarmed. I’m very, very happy that Faith and I are finally marrying. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”
He glanced down at Faith, but she appeared catatonic and didn’t reflect—by the slightest blink of a lash—that she agreed with him.
“What was the question again?” he asked the vicar.
“Do you, Lambert Newton, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“Yes, I absolutely do.”
The vicar nodded, then went off on a lengthy diatribe about being richer and poorer, about sickness and health.
Lambert was struggling to focus, anxious to reply in the correct spots, when the door at the rear of the church banged open. Someone stomped in, and the vicar scowled and peered back, momentarily losing his place in the text.
Two men marched down the aisle. They were handsome, tall, broad in the shoulder, slim in the waist. They were armed to the teeth, pistols, knives, and swords strapped to their bodies. They’d brazenly carried in the weaponry, not concerned in the least that the building was a house of worship.
For a horrifying instant, Lambert wondered if they’d been sent by his creditors, but the man in front—who was obviously the leader of the pair—said, “Faith!”
She turned toward him in slow motion. “Mr. Hubbard?”
“Tell me the ceremony’s not over. Tell me we made it in time.”
“Sir!” The vicar snapped his prayer book closed. “We are in the middle of a wedding, and you’ve interrupted.”
“Yes, I have,” Mr. Hubbard brazenly retorted. “Have you gotten to the part yet where you ask if there are any objections to the match?”
“Well…ah…no,” the vicar stammered.
“Then I must inform you that I plan to protest.”
“On what grounds?” the vicar inquired.
“On the grounds that she’s mine”—he pointed at Lambert—“and this dolt can’t have her.”
“How dare you!” Lambert said, while the vicar said, “This is most improper.”
Mr. Hubbard grinned. “If you think my interrupting is improper, just wait until you discover what I intend to do next.”
He wedged himself between Lambert and Faith, separating them as cleanly as if he’d used a knife to slice through their bond.
“Let’s go, Faith,” he said.
His command yanked her out of her stupor.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I’m kidnapping you,” he unabashedly claimed, “to prevent this marriage, which would be a grave mistake.”
“Of all the nerve!” Lambert griped.
Alice made a shooing motion with her fingers. “Go away, Mr. Hubbard! I warned you not to bother Faith again.”
“You know this blackguard?” Lambert asked Alice.
“No…um…yes. Maybe.”
Mr. Hubbard rounded on her. “If it isn’t the grieving widow. What was Faith’s opinion of my prior visit? Why am I certain you never told her about it?”
Alice’s eyes flashed daggers, but she managed to choke out, “I have no idea what you mean.”
“I just bet you don’t,” Mr. Hubbard scoffed.
“She told me,” Faith said. “What gall you have to come to my home and try to extort money from me.”
“What?” Mr. Hubbard frowned ferociously.
Faith poked an angry finger at his chest. “You can beg me—the rest of your miserable life, if need be—to reimburse you for bringing me to England, but I’d rather jump off a cliff than pay you a single penny.”
Hubbard studied her as if she was deranged, then he shook his head and laughed. “Was that her story? That I was begging for money?”
“Yes, and I will never, ever give you a farthing.”
Hubbard leaned in so they were nose to nose. “I didn’t ask for money. I intended to propose, but this witch”—he rudely gestured to Alice—“claimed I was out of luck because you were already married to your cousin.”
Now it was Faith’s turn to ask, “What?”
“She was very sorry to inform me that you were away on your honeymoon.”
“Alice!” Faith scolded.
“So,” Mr. Hubbard continued, “I slithered off like a whipped dog only to learn from Rowena that the wedding is today. I hurried back, but the entire journey I was pondering why your stepmother would work so hard to keep us apart.”
They all spun to Alice, and she looked stricken, like a deer caught in the carriage lamp.
“Well, Alice?” Faith said. “Explain yourself.”
Alice wrung her hands, and she was checking the doors as if she’d like to race out and escape. Ultimately she stated, “You have to marry Lambert.”
“I have to?” Faith said.
“Yes.”
“Pardon me, Alice,” Faith said, “but I was laboring under the impression that I’m a free and independent adult and I don’t have to do anything.”
“We need the money,” Alice blurted out.
“Alice!” Lambert snapped. “Be silent.”
Lambert started toward Alice, but before he could reach her, Mr. Hubbard blocked his path and stepped to Alice himself, demanding, “What money would that be, Mrs. Newton, for I have always considered Faith to be poor as a church mouse.”
“Oh…oh…” Alice wailed. “You must ask Lambert. He’s so much cleverer than I am.”
Attention shifted to Lambert, and he said, “Alice is mad as a hatter.”
“I am not,” Alice grumbled.
Faith glared at Lambert. “What is she talking about?”
“How would I know?” Lambert insisted, stalling, frantically wondering how to fix the mess. “You’re aware of how foolish Alice can be.”
It wasn’t an answer Faith would accept, and she advanced on Alice. “What mo
ney, Alice? Just tell me.”
Without hesitation, Alice blabbed his secret. “Your dowry, you ninny.”
“I don’t have a dowry,” Faith said.
“Yes, you do,” Alice replied, “and I’m certain you’ll use it to help us. You’re kind, Faith. You always have been. Think of my plight. Think of my girls. Lambert can only help me if you help me first.”
“I’m guessing it’s locked in a trust,” Mr. Hubbard said to Faith, “and your cousin can’t get his hands on it unless he weds you. He must be beggared. Have you checked the account books since you’ve been home?”
“No,” Faith mumbled.
Mr. Hubbard scowled at Alice. “If you two are so determined, it must be a large amount.”
“It’s very large,” Alice confessed.
“Alice, cease your yapping!” Lambert barked.
His rough language had the vicar bristling. “Mr. Newton! That’s enough.” He glowered at the assembled group and announced, “Obviously there are serious issues to be resolved before I can pronounce you man and wife. This ceremony is over.”
He stomped off, exited out a side door, and headed for the rectory.
“It appears, Faith,”—Mr. Hubbard’s grin widened—“that you’re not married and that you’re suddenly an heiress.”
“I’m not an heiress,” she said. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You’re wrong. I’m positive you’re very rich, so my kidnapping you is even more fitting.”
With the inane remark deftly hurled, Hubbard grabbed Faith and hoisted her over his shoulder as if she were a sack of flour.
“Put me down!” she shrieked.
“No. Ralston,” he said to his companion, “watch my back.”
“I will.”
“Follow us in a few minutes, but when you leave make sure this idiot can’t come after us.” The idiot to whom he referred was Lambert. “Tie him up if you have to.”
“Don’t worry about him,” Ralston said. “He won’t bother you.”
“You rogue! You scoundrel!” Lambert bellowed. “You can’t steal away with my bride!”
He moved as if he’d rush after them, but Mr. Hubbard was already through the doors and outside. Ralston stood in Lambert’s way, solid as a marble statue.
“You can’t depart yet.” Ralston looked and sounded very lethal.
“He can’t barge in like this!” Lambert complained. “It’s my wedding!”
“Weren’t you listening? The vicar declared the ceremony to be over. So technically, it’s not your wedding.”
“Lambert,” Alice moaned, “you have to stop her.”
“How would I do that, Alice? How precisely would I?”
“I don’t know, Lambert, but you’ll think of something.”
“Shut up, Alice. For once, just shut the hell up.”
His dreams were shattered, his hopes dashed. His one chance to stay out of debtor’s prison had crumbled to ashes.
Ever since Harold’s death, Lambert’s fiscal condition had been dire. But after Faith had returned and matrimony began to seem likely, he’d spent money like the rich man he felt destined to be.
He’d bought carriages and clothes, furniture and wine. He’d even hired a chef from France. He’d been on the verge of mending his problems, but his plans were wrecked. All of them were wrecked!
If only he’d sent Alice packing when he’d first considered the idea, but no, he’d tried to be generous, to be charitable. He’d let her remain at Heron Hall, and she’d repaid him with betrayal.
He was so enraged, he truly thought he might murder her when they arrived home. He’d bury her in the woods and say she ran off with a traveling peddler. No one would miss her. No one would mourn her.
He sank down in the front pew as Alice nagged, “Lambert! Get up! Go after her!”
“Alice, I swear to God, if you don’t shut up, I will come over there and strangle you.”
The two older women who’d been praying hadn’t left. They gasped at Lambert’s threat, and he groaned with dismay.
Witnesses!
Now he wouldn’t be able to kill Alice as he so fervently desired. He was cursed! Cursed!
He attempted to stand; desperate to march out so he could be alone in his misery, but Ralston shoved him down.
“Not yet, Mr. Newton. My friend, Mr. Hubbard, needs to gallop a few more miles before you chase after him.”
“Bugger off, you…you…criminal.”
“I’ll bugger off very soon. Until then, just relax.”
* * * *
By the time Mr. Hubbard reined in and Faith slid to the ground, she was angrier than she’d ever been. If she’d have been holding a pistol, she’d have shot him through the center of his cold, black heart.
“You cur! You dog!” she spat. “How dare you drag me off as if you were some sort of crazed…berserker!”
They’d halted alongside the road, a thick copse of trees shielding them from passersby. With the agility of a circus performer, he leapt down from his horse, and he was laughing, preening, proud of himself and the chaos he’d caused.
“Why, Faith”—he looked vastly amused—“you seem upset.”
“I’ll show you upset, you wretch! What is wrong with you?”
“I couldn’t let you shackle yourself to that deceitful bounder. You never wanted to. You must have told me so on a dozen different occasions.”
“It’s my business. Mine! Not yours!”
“Should I have left you there? If you’d like to return and proceed with the ceremony, your cousin would be amenable. Shall I take you back? Your stepmother would certainly be glad.”
His comment brought her up short. Her head was spinning, and she couldn’t focus. What was true? What was real?
From the moment the lawyer’s clerk had delivered the foreclosure papers, she’d been in a quandary. Nuptial events had progressed so rapidly that she hadn’t had a second to rationally assess her situation.
Clearly Alice and Lambert had manipulated her, had pushed her toward matrimony to serve their own ends. At any point, she could have said no, but their coaxing had been so subtle, so cunning.
By marrying Lambert, she’d assumed she found the means to protect herself, to protect Alice and Faith’s tiny half-sisters, but obviously there were schemes afoot she hadn’t understood. How bad was Lambert’s fiscal dilemma? How large was Faith’s dowry?
Alice and Lambert were fools. If they’d explained about the money, she wasn’t sure but she expected she’d have still agreed to wed Lambert. It wasn’t as if she’d had a line of suitors eager to propose. She’d have behaved sensibly—to save her family home. Yet with their shenanigans exposed, their every word and deed was suspect.
She was such an idiot! Such a gullible dunce. Would she ever learn to be wary?
“I can’t go back there,” she muttered.
“Good. Now stop shouting and let me speak my piece.”
“I don’t wish to hear you speak. Ever!”
“Do you know what’s occurred to me, Faith?”
“No, and I don’t care to know either.”
He ignored her snotty reply. “It’s occurred to me that you can’t be left to your own devices. You simply don’t possess the shrewd caution that’s necessary for a female to survive in this world on her own.”
“I have plenty of caution, thank you very much.”
“How many times have I rescued you?”
“Not that many,” she grouched.
“Four? Five?”
“Not that many!”
“You’re an accident waiting to happen.”
“How kind of you to mention my flaws. It’s been wonderful chatting, but I’d rather not continue.”
She shoved by him and headed for the road—though her destination was a mystery. Where would she go? To Heron Hall? To do what? To listen as Lambert and Alice whined and pleaded and lied?
“Where are you going?” he asked as if reading her mind.
“To Heron Ha
ll. Where would you suppose?”
“Please permit me to accompany you so I can sit in the corner and eavesdrop as Lambert makes his excuses. And while we’re at it, I’d like to point out that that stepmother of yours is really astonishing.”
“I don’t need any advice from you about my family, Mr. Hubbard—especially since you don’t have one. You’re hardly an expert, so don’t presume to lecture me.”
It was a terrible remark, but she couldn’t keep herself from voicing it.
They’d only been parted a few months, and she hadn’t had enough time to completely free herself from his influence. Looking at him, watching him strut and swagger, she felt as if he was pricking her over and over with the tip of a knife. Each move, each word wounded her. She wanted to lash out, to defend against the onslaught.
“No,” he said, “I don’t have a family, but I’m about to put one together. A very big family with loads of children.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m getting married.”
The news was like a blow. “To who?”
“To you, you silly goose.”
“You’re a lunatic, and I’m leaving.”
Again, he ignored her. “Just so you know, I came to propose last week.”
“You did not. You came to extort money from my father. Too bad for you he was deceased so you couldn’t swindle him.”
He clucked his tongue like a scolding hen. “First off, I’m very sorry about your father. I realize you weren’t close to him, but I’m sorry all the same.”
It was aggravating that she’d confided so many details about her personal life. It reinforced how important she’d let him become. “Stop trying to console me. I am none of your business.”
“And second, your stepmother is a first rate, first class liar.”
“That’s certainly the pot calling the kettle black. If there was a contest for liars, you’d win every prize.”
“You’re correct. I would.” He appeared cocky and inordinately pleased with himself. “I had a difficult childhood. I wasn’t a rich, pampered girl who lived in a mansion, surrounded by servants.”
“Touché, Mr. Hubbard. I grew up spoiled and horrid.”
“Yes, you were coddled, while I was on my own and had to make my own way. It was exhausting, and I had to fib occasionally just to get by.”
