The Rebel's Bride

by JoAnn DeLazzari

  * * *

  Tears filled Catherine’s eyes. The dreams she once held for herself and Ransom seemed so distant now. She was going to be forced to endure life with a man whom she loved dearly, but who cared naught for her beyond the bed.

  “We cannot stay, my dear child,” she breathed against the down of his hair. The baby stirred. She remembered how gently Ransom touched his son. He loved the babe. There was no doubt about it. As much as it hurt her to think about it, perhaps it would be best for Phillip if she left alone.

  She had survived the pain of leaving the man she loved, surely she could survive knowing her child’s future was more secure without her. Setting the quieted child back into his crib, she looked down at him. She had no choice.

  * * *

  There was no doubt in Ransom’s mind what Catherine planned at that moment. He saw the cornered fear in her eyes. She would try to escape him, but this time he would not let her get away with it.

  “Father!” he called, racing down the steps.

  All three of the others appeared almost as one. “What is it?” Phillip demanded.

  “I suspect he has met his son,” Holden grinned, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe. “And Catherine wasn’t too pleased with his proposal.”

  Ransom wasted only a brief second glaring at his friend. “I need you to make arrangements for our wedding as quickly as possible.” Phillip nodded. “And Mother, I need your help, too.”

  Margaret frowned. “I don’t know, son,” she began, shaking her head. “Perhaps you two need time to—”

  “We don’t have time,” Ransom announced. “If I know her, she is already preparing to slip away.”

  Margaret agreed. “What do you want me to do?”

  A curious grin lit Ransom’s face. “Very little, Mother. I am simply going to let history repeat itself.”

  Holden tipped his head and Ransom nodded. Holden threw back his head in rich, robust laughter. “I don’t believe it,” he exclaimed, brushing at tears that filled his eyes. “Even you wouldn’t go that far.”

  Chuckling richly, Ransom shrugged. “Believe it, Holden, because that is exactly what I am going to do.”

  Margaret and Phillip were obviously at a loss as to what was going on.

  “Ransom Kent,” Margaret began sternly. “I do not want you harming that girl.”

  Subduing some of his merriment, Ransom placed his arm about his mother’s shoulder. “Do you wish to see us wed, m’lady?” he asked playfully.

  “Yes, of course, but—”

  “Then you will not be disappointed.”

  Chapter Twenty Five

  * * *

  Catherine stilled when someone knocked on her door. “Just a moment,” she called and quickly hid her preparations to flee.

  “Hello, dear,” Margaret smiled and entered with a tray balanced in her hands after Catherine opened the door. “I thought you might need some sherry after your reunion with my son.”

  Catherine wanted to be angry with Margaret, but she could not be. It was a man’s world. Margaret surely had no choice in what transpired. “Thank you, Margaret. I could use a small glass.”

  “Me, too,” Margaret sighed. She poured two glasses and handed one to Catherine. “I am sorry about what happened. I told them it was a cruel thing to sneak up on you like that, but you know men. They are so sure they are right all the time.”

  Rubbing a headache she’d nursed since her encounter with Ransom, Catherine nodded. She knew all too well. “I do not blame you.” She moved to a chair to sip her wine. “You were outnumbered. If you had not helped, they would have found another way to get him near me.”

  Margaret took a sip of her drink. “He does look well, though, doesn’t he?”

  Catherine’s mood softened for a moment. He looked wonderful, but she could not admit it aloud. “Yes, he looks fine,” she compromised. “But I knew he would.” She took another swallow.

  “And he spoke well of young Phillip.”

  “Of course he did. It is his son. And he is sure it is all because of him that Phillip is so wonderful.”

  Nodding in apparent agreement, Margaret finished her wine and rose to pour another. She asked Catherine if she needed more.

  “Why not?” she said, pushing her glass toward Margaret. “Men always share a drink when they win or lose, why should we be any different?” Margaret returned with the two glasses. Catherine wrinkled her nose and took hers.

  “You know, dear, Phillip and I would love to see you and Ransom married.” Catherine shook her head and waved off Margaret’s comment. “Very well, and I think I understand why you are so set against it.”

  “You do?” Catherine asked, surprised.

  Margaret nodded once. “Yes. You want him to love you, but your pride must not suffer.”

  That wasn’t it at all, Catherine thought, but she was beginning to feel too strange to argue. “S’good enough,” she struggled to say. Hoping to use the wine as a stimulant to a grogginess that was beginning to overtake her, Catherine drank down her second glass. Within moments, she was filled with a desire to yawn.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Margaret asked, setting her glass aside to stand near Catherine. “You seem a bit tired.”

  When Catherine raised her heavy lidded eyes to Margaret, her head tipped. “If he loved me, my pride would be damned,” she said clearly, but shook her head after saying it to rid herself of forming cobwebs. The room seemed to be growing foggy. Everything in it shimmered. “Margaret?” she called, not able to locate her.

  “I’m here, child,” Margaret replied, sounding far off. “Perhaps you should lie down. You look rather strange.”

  She felt rather strange. Her lids were growing heavy and her tongue seemed to be unable to fashion words clearly. “Yes,” Catherine finally got out. She let Margaret help her to her bed. As she lay down, her eyes flew open. “Phillip!”

  “Don’t worry, dear. I have a wet nurse who can care for him until you have rested.” Within a few moments, Catherine was sound asleep.

  Margaret opened the door. “The laudanum has worked. She is sleeping soundly and should stay that way for four or five hours.”

  Ransom smiled at his mother as he looked across the room. “Thank you, Mother,” he said. “I know this seems harsh to you, but it is for the best.” Gazing at Catherine, he sighed deeply. “I wed her once before in this condition, but this time I have the right bride.”

  “I know. It is the only reason I agreed to help you.”

  Pausing, he turned and pressed a kiss to her brow. “She will understand why I had to go to this extreme before long and, when she does, she will forgive you.”

  “I hope so,” Margaret sighed. “I really do love the girl.”

  “So do I,” he smiled.

  * * *

  “The local magistrate will perform the ceremony,” Holden stated as Ransom carried Catherine down the stairs. “He was not too happy about it until your father threatened to call in the Duke of Winthorpe. That set him to agreement fast enough.” He smiled. “She is going to be furious, you know?”

  “Yes, but she is also going to be my wife.”

  Holden placed a cloak over Catherine’s body. “I can’t believe we’re going through this again. At least this time you aren’t set against it.”

  Ransom paused to look down at Catherine. “Far from it, Holden. She means more to me than I can possibly say. I would give up all I have if she loved me.”

  “I don’t think you will have to go to such extremes,” Phillip said from the door. “From what I have heard and seen in the past few months, I would say she loves you very much. In fact, it was your name she cried out as little Phillip came into this world.”

  “Are you sure she was not cursing me?” Ransom smiled ruefully.

  Phillip chuckled. “No, son. I don’t think so.” Catherine stirred in Ransom’s arms. “Come on. The magistrate is waiting and I have already sent some of the servants to the old caretaker’s house to make it
ready for you.”

  “Thank you, Father. You and Mother have been a great help. We will never forget it.”

  Holden chuckled. “I don’t think anyone is going to forget this night. Catherine will never let us.”

  Margaret joined the trio of men and they all left for the waiting carriage. Ransom wondered if the magistrate had ever seen such an unusual group. It was possible that there had been other anxious bridegrooms, but he suspected Catherine was the man’s first unconscious bride.

  “I do not know how legal this is going to be,” the magistrate made the mistake of saying as Ransom held Catherine’s hand to sign the marriage certificate.

  “It will be perfectly legal,” Ransom snapped. “Because you are going to witness the entire thing.”

  “Yes, of course!” the magistrate exclaimed. “That would make it perfectly legal.”

  When everything was recorded and signed, Ransom tucked the precious documents into his vest pocket, patting it once to assure that they were there. He scooped Catherine into his arms again and smiled down at her. “Come, wife. We have a lifetime of marriage to begin.”

  He stopped to kiss his mother and she sniffled into her handkerchief. With his arms full, he smiled at his father.

  “We will have a special dinner when you come back,” Phillip stated. Ransom nodded and followed Holden from the office.

  * * *

  Ransom looked down at his wife. God, but that sounded good, even in his mind. At last, she was his, and no one could come between them. Well, after this night they couldn’t. He kept in mind what his attorney friend had asked. He emphatically assured him he did not consummate anything with Sabrina, ergo there had been no real marriage.

  Leaning his head back against the seat, Ransom smiled. This marriage would be consummated most thoroughly, and there would never be any doubts about it being legal. They were bound together for both their lifetimes, and he was determined to prove it to her.

  Within minutes, the carriage drew up before the old caretaker’s house. Lights were shining through the windows and smoke rose from the old stone chimney, making the place look cozy.

  “Here we are, Ran,” Holden announced as he opened the door. “Hand her out to me and—”

  “Not a chance,” Ransom laughed. “I have finally got her and I am not taking any risks.” He stepped from the carriage with her in his arms. Holden opened the front door to the quaint house for him. “Thanks for all your help,” he said to his friend. “We’ll name the next one after you.”

  “Even if it is a girl?” Holden laughed. He patted Ransom firmly on the back. “Never mind,” he teased, shaking his head. “Just save it for the next boy, whenever he comes.” Ransom carried his bride inside. Holden closed the door behind the couple.

  * * *

  His father must have sent half the staff to make the old place this comfortable and tidy in so short a time. There was a table filled with food and wine, a tub ready for the water heating in a cauldron in the fireplace, and a bed with fresh linens. They had thought of everything.

  He placed Catherine carefully on the bed and turned to pour himself a glass of wine. He had a few hours before his bride awakened, but it would be worth the wait. After almost six months, a few hours were nothing.

  Ransom gazed lovingly down on her. How could he have been such a fool not to trust his love for her right from the beginning? The moment he came to grips with his feelings, he should have told her. She was gently born and could not bear his cavalier attitude about their relationship. He should have known that when he discovered she had never lain with a man before him.

  Reaching out his hand, he gathered a soft burnished curl in his hand. “I am so sorry, my love,” he whispered. “I do love you and I should have made that clear when I had the chance. I promise, you will never doubt my love again after tonight.”

  He knew there would be no answer, yet he sighed heavily as she slept on. Realizing it was not clever to stay close to her like this, he rose and put some small distance between them. His gaze went to the steaming water and he decided it might help him in the waiting if he took a bath.

  It took only a few minutes to prepare the water,. He shed his clothes and climbed into the battered old tub. With a fresh glass of wine within reach, he tried to relax, but he could still see her. Closing his eyes, he disciplined his mind to think of something else. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth when images of their son filled his thoughts.

  She had done a marvelous job in giving him such a fine son, and he thanked God she had been with his parents when the event occurred. He shuddered to think of her alone at such a time. But he chuckled when he remembered how she had defended Devil’s Head. He was being foolish. She was quite capable of handling whatever came her way. Perhaps that was the rub.

  Very possibly, Catherine would not need him, and a man had to be needed to feel his worth. She was self-reliant, even though she was just discovering it. She was courageous, yet sensitive. There was nothing about her that he did not admire and love.

  He realized he could not keep his thoughts from his wife. Finishing his wine, he rose from the tub and toweled off with a haste borne of desire. He could wait no longer. If she would not awaken herself, he would wake her. Wrapping a towel about his hips, he went to the bed.

  Still completely in the clutches of the laudanum, she had not moved. He gently removed her clothing, stopping to enjoy every inch he exposed. When only her chemise remained, he paused. Her breasts were fuller since the child came. He could imagine Phillip at her breasts suckling deeply. The image caused him to swell hard with his need for her.

  “Awaken, my love,” he groaned, yanking aside the towel. “Let us begin together this journey through our lives.” She stirred lightly. Ransom continued to coax her as he stretched out naked at her side.

  * * *

  Her erotic dreams were back. She should have known as soon as she saw him her body would remember. Strong, yet gentle hands touched her. She could hear the rich, deep timber of his voice speak loving words to her. How she wanted to hear those words . . .

  A soft moan escaped her throat as her dream lover drew away the strap of her chemise and lowered his mouth to the rise of her breast. Her imagination thrilled her and she arched her back to move closer to him, gasping when his lips found her nipple. This was no infant’s suckle, she thought. This was a man, drawing sustenance from her very soul.

  “Ransom,” she whispered, reaching to cradle the dark head she so desperately wished was really there. It took a moment for her to realize there was substance to this dream. She called his name again.

  “I am here, beloved,” he breathed huskily.

  Catherine was torn by the desire to continue her precious dream and a need to face reality. She struggled to clear her mind. The crisp thickness of his hair against her palm registered. The feel of his strong thigh pressed to hers became real. His breath, gently brushing her sensitive breast was all too genuine.

  Her body tensed, yet she did not move beyond opening her eyes. Balanced on an elbow at her side lay the man of her dreams.

  “I am no dream, Cat,” he said gently, his hand lifted hers to press it to his thundering heart. “I am here with you.”

  “Why?” she asked softly, tears filling her eyes. “Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” She turned her face to avoid looking at him. “I will give you Phillip. You do not need… me, too.”

  “I thank you for my son, Cat, but I want you.”

  Shaking her head slowly, she began to cry. “I cannot. No matter how much I love you, I cannot.”

  Ransom closed his eyes to relish her words. She truly did love him. Filled with the power of her words, his hand circled her chin and drew her mouth about to seal a silent vow of devotion. His lips claimed her and this time she did not resist.

  There was so much to say, so much to set to rights, but he could think of nothing but making love to her. Ready to burst, he frantically removed the rest of her chemise. She was warm and r
esponsive to his touch. He heard her whimper when his fingers gently explored her. He felt her hand kneading the muscles of his back in her need.

  “Yes, my love,” he groaned, shifting his weight over her. “It is time for me to come home.”

  He filled her slowly. Her body tightened around him, holding him inside her. As he began to move, the wild desires they shared stirred to life. He struggled to hold back his own release so she would find the pleasure he would bring her.

  Her young body responded quickly to his forceful rhythm. The sounds of their breathing thundered in his ears. Their bodies, moist and warm, strained together until Catherine trembled uncontrollably.

  “Ransom!” she cried, pressing her hips tightly to his.

  Almost simultaneously, Ransom shuddered. His seed erupted deeply into her as he growled her name through clenched teeth. She clutched him to her and his world was perfect.

  “I love you,” he moaned. He moved to hold her face in his hands. “With all my heart, I love you, Catherine,” he repeated—this time more tenderly.

  She closed her eyes, and he saw tears spill from beneath her lashes. Her silence clearly indicated she did not believe him. Careful to keep her close to him, he eased to her side. “It is true, Cat,” he sighed, brushing back her hair from her brow. “I have loved you, it seems, since you came into my life, but I did not recognize it.”

  “P-please, Ransom,” she stammered. “You have taken what you wanted. Let me go now.”

  “Never!” he snarled, drawing her about to hold her against his chest. “You belong to me now. No one, not even you, will keep us apart.”

  She sobbed against the matte on his chest. “Damn you!” she cried, her fist thumping his chest weakly. “Why couldn’t you just leave me alone? Why did I have to fall in love with you?” His arms continued to hold her and she sniffed loudly. “You don’t want a wife. You told me that.”