How I Married a Marquess

by Anna Harrington

  “Secretary of War?” Josie spoke quietly from behind the bars, then turned away as Thomas’s eyes slid in her direction when her father came forward to greet the earl and her mother curtsied deeply.

  “Constable Rivers,” Thomas continued with a gesture toward the stunned man, who nodded speechlessly at the introduction. “The constable and his men were just about to escort the baron and his family home safely, weren’t you, Rivers? After all, there’s a highwayman on the loose tonight.”

  “Aye, sir.” Rivers capitulated grudgingly, his feathers ruffled. He clearly didn’t like being ordered about inside his own gaol. But he was now outranked to an absurd degree and pointedly reminded of it by the scowl from Lord Bathurst, the most powerful man in the country after the Prince Regent and the prime minister. Then he reddened with embarrassment. “I don’t seem to have the key with me to unlock Miss Carlisle.”

  “Miss Carlisle?” Bathurst’s bushy brows drew together at the mention of a woman behind bars.

  “My daughter, sir.” The baron grimaced in her direction. From the humiliated expression on her face before she turned away, Thomas knew she’d never again embarrass her family like this. Good.

  Bathurst glanced toward the cell. “Your daughter has been arrested, Althorpe?”

  “She accidentally locked herself inside,” Miranda informed him quickly.

  The secretary’s gaze narrowed as it swung suspiciously back to Thomas. “She did, did she?”

  “Yes, sir,” Thomas answered evenly. “An hour ago.”

  “Then you’d best let her out.”

  “Beggin’ yer pardon, sir,” the constable put in, “but we’ll have to send for the blacksmith. I seem to have misplaced the key—”

  “Not you. Him.” Bathurst’s lips tightened irritably as he gestured toward Thomas. “Something tells me Chesney has possession of the key.”

  On cue Thomas reached into his jacket pocket and held it up. “Rivers, please take the baron and his family home while the secretary and I unlock Miss Carlisle.” His order was clear. He wanted them all to leave, and it was not a request.

  Althorpe stepped forward. “I am not leaving without my daughter.”

  “I’ll make certain she arrives home safely,” Thomas assured him. “I’ll escort her to Chestnut Hill myself.”

  That did not mollify her father. “I will not allow her reputation to—”

  “Darling.” Elizabeth Carlisle placed her hand gently on her husband’s arm, a knowing expression brightening her face as she glanced at Thomas. “It’s all right. I’m certain Lord Chesney would never willingly let any harm come to her, neither to her person nor her reputation.” Her blue eyes met his, but Thomas was unable to discern if she was forcing a promise from him or giving a warning. “Would you, sir?”

  “You have my promise as a gentleman, my lady,” he answered solemnly.

  His response drew a disgusted grunt from Robert and a heavy sigh from Miranda, but Elizabeth Carlisle gave him a soft smile. When the baron led his wife out of the gaol in grudging acquiescence, the baroness lingered behind to squeeze Thomas’s arm in silent approval before stepping out into the night, with all three sons and Miranda trailing after.

  When the last of the constable’s men left and closed the door, leaving the three of them alone, Thomas shook the secretary’s hand. “Thank you for coming, sir. I wasn’t certain you would.”

  “I reckoned I owed you this much.”

  And Thomas reckoned Bathurst owed him a great deal more for the cold rejection of his attempts during the past year to return to service.

  “I have to admit that I am also very curious about what you wrote in your message,” he continued, purposefully vague as his eyes darted toward Josie, who watched the two men closely. “I hope it was worth my trouble to come here tonight.”

  “You won’t be disappointed, sir.”

  Thomas reached beneath his jacket and withdrew the second half of the book. He gave it to Bathurst, then watched silently as the distinguished secretary thumbed through the pages, at first quickly, and then more slowly as page by page the realization of what he was holding in his hands dawned on him. Unable to hide the startled expression registering on his face, he darted his gaze from the book to Thomas, then back to the book. His hands shook.

  “Dear God.” His voice was low and grim. He blew out a tremulous breath. “Is this what I think it is?”

  Thomas answered simply, “Yes.”

  Bathurst narrowed his eyes at Josie. “If that girl had this—”

  “No,” Thomas interjected adamantly. “She’s only in the cell for safekeeping.”

  “Then who?” he demanded.

  “Simon Royston.”

  “Royston…Earl Royston?” Bushy gray eyes shot up in disbelief. “That’s not possible.”

  “I assure you, sir, it is.” His face turned grim. “This accusation will be easily proved, and I think there are others in Parliament and the Regent’s cabinet who will find interesting the other activities he’s been up to over the past decade as well.”

  “Where is Royston now?”

  “Colonel Grey arrested him and is currently transporting him to London. I’m certain Grey will want to go after whoever gave Royston this information himself.” His blue eyes darted toward Josie, but it was impossible in the shadows of the cell to read the expression on her face as he added, “I’ll catch up with them tomorrow and be on hand for the questioning, with your permission, sir.”

  “Of course.” Bathurst gave a curt, preoccupied nod, and Thomas knew that was the closest thing to an apology he could ever hope to receive from the secretary for casting him away after the shooting. The War Office wasn’t a men’s social club, and no quarter was given to those incapable of doing their part, but there was no doubt now that the secretary knew he’d been wrong.

  Bathurst lifted the book with a frown. “Where’s the other half?”

  “There’s nothing in it that—”

  “I have it!” Josie called out from the cell. She thrust her half of the book out between the bars. “Take it, please.”

  “Jo, Bathurst doesn’t need that,” Thomas said quietly. He’d given her that half of the book as evidence against Royston in case his plans for the night went horribly wrong, as her protection if the earl managed to slip through his fingers and get away. But more than that, he’d given it to her as proof that he cared about her and that he would never doubt her again.

  She stared at him intently, her eyes filled with a wretchedness that tore at his heart. “But it would be better, though, wouldn’t it, to have the whole book? The entire story of everything Royston’s done from the very beginning?”

  “Royston’s being charged with treason,” Thomas answered gently. “The evidence against him is too damaging to ever be made public. If you hand over that part of the book, it will be buried with the rest of the evidence. People will know he committed treason, but no one will know how he used the children for his own gains.”

  “But it will help you return to the War Office.” Her voice was nothing more than a soft breath.

  He shook his head, his chest tightening. “Josephine, you need to know—”

  “Lord Bathurst, will it help if I give you this half, too?” she pressed, turning her gaze on the secretary.

  The two men exchanged silent, grim glances, then Bathurst nodded slowly. “Yes, it will.”

  Thomas bit back a curse as the secretary took the first half of the book from her and mumbled his thanks. He tucked both halves inside his coat, then nodded toward the cell. “Best to take Miss Carlisle home now, Chesney, before her family storms the gaol again and you’re forced to explain the truth behind how she came to be locked up tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.” He grimaced and shook Bathurst’s hand.

  “Miss Carlisle, meeting you was indeed a pleasure.” He sketched her a bow before retreating to the door. “Chesney, I’ll see you in London in a few days.” Just as he stepped outside, he turned to give one las
t parting look at Thomas. “And welcome back to the War Office.”

  The door closed behind him.

  Thomas glanced toward Josie, but she was gone, retreated into the shadows at the rear of the narrow cell. Damnation. He desperately needed to talk to her and explain, but this was not how he wanted the conversation to begin. Taking a deep breath, he unlocked the iron door and swung it open.

  She stood at the far end, staring at the wall with her back toward him, one hand on her right hip in a gesture of frustration and anger, but her other hand swiped at her eyes. The small movement nearly undid him.

  “Jo,” he called softly, his heart breaking that he’d made her cry, tonight of all nights.

  She stiffened but didn’t face him. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

  He hesitated. “What is?”

  “That you came here to arrest the highwayman but are now setting me free.” Her voice choked. “And all the evidence linking Royston to the orphans really is gone forever now.”

  “You didn’t have to give Bathurst your half of the book.”

  “Yes, I did.” She faced him then, and even in the dim light of the lantern and the shadows it cast into the cell, the expression of deep loss on her face cut through him like a knife. “Because you need it to prove how you connected the highwayman to Royston, Royston to the political favors…all the way to that list of names.” Her voice choked. “You need it to be a spy again.”

  He shook his head because she didn’t yet understand. “You didn’t need to give—”

  “Yes, I did,” she whispered. Then the words rushed out in a shuddering sigh. “Because I love you.”

  He froze, every muscle in his body tightening. His heart stopped. Josie loved him, she’d actually said it. Dear God…she loved him.

  When his heart started beating again, the blood coursed through him in shuddering pulses that left him tingling. For the first time since the shooting, he truly felt alive. Because of her. And he knew for certain, then, that the demons and the darkness that had smothered him would never return.

  A tear rolled down her cheek. Not bothering to wipe it away, she sank onto the cot. Her body shuddered, her hands white-knuckled as she gripped the edge of the cot beneath her. The sight of her shoulders shaking as she fought back the silent tears pierced his chest.

  No, this was definitely not how he’d wanted this conversation to begin.

  “Josephine.” He sat next to her, but when he took her shoulders and drew her against him, she pushed him back.

  “Don’t,” she whispered, and shrank away.

  He fought back the urge to grab her and sweep her into his arms, to kiss her senseless and make every last tear disappear. But he would do as she wished and leave her be. For a few minutes. “Tonight isn’t what you think.” Feeling the overwhelming need to touch her, he slid his hand along the edge of the cot until his fingers brushed warmly against hers. She flinched but didn’t pull away. “I did all of this for you, Jo.”

  “To keep me from being arrested, I know.” Her voice hitched in her throat. “But you’re leaving for London tomorrow morning.”

  “Yes,” he said solemnly.

  “Then I hope—”

  “Just as soon as I speak with your father to offer for you in marriage.”

  Josie stared at him, her lips parting as surprise jolted through her. His handsome face blurred beneath the hot tears welling in her eyes. Oh, heavens, he couldn’t have said—certainly couldn’t have meant…She breathed out, so softly that barely any sound crossed her lips, “What did you say?”

  “That I love you, too, Josephine Carlisle.” He cupped her face in his hand and touched his lips to hers. “And tonight, when I return you to Chestnut Hill, I plan on asking your father for his permission to marry you. And I think your mother will help convince him in my favor.” Grinning, he laced his fingers through hers and lifted her hand to his lips to kiss it. “She likes me.”

  “But—but the War Office,” she stammered, just as confused now as she’d been at the start of the conversation when he’d first unlocked the cell door to set her free, when she was convinced he was leaving her behind, condemned to a life without him. “That was the reason you came here, why you sent for Lord Bathurst—you wanted to be an agent again.”

  “I did want that once.” He gently brushed the tear from her cheek. “But now I want you more.”

  “You want me…,” she repeated breathlessly. She blinked as the truth slowly dawned on her. “Everything that happened tonight—the gaolbreak, Colonel Grey, the robbery…”

  “It was all to keep you safe.” He exhaled a long, hard breath. “Even as recently as tonight, I thought leaving you behind was best for both of us, that I could deny my feelings for you and just walk away. You deserve a perfectly safe, normal life, and I was afraid I couldn’t give that to you, that I couldn’t make you happy.”

  She smiled through her tears. “You’ve already made me happ—”

  He touched a finger to her lips and silenced her, then lifted a brow. “I practiced this all the way into town, so let me get it out.”

  She nodded silently against his finger, not daring to utter another word.

  “When I met you, I felt healed for the first time since the shooting. I needed that—I needed you, Josephine.” His finger at her mouth began to caress her lips, and his eyes grew intense as they stared deeply into hers, so deeply that a warm shiver rushed through her. “I still do. And I always will.”

  Then he sank to one knee in front of her on the stone floor, taking both her hands in his and raising them to his lips to kiss them.

  Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m proposing.”

  “But we’re in a gaol—”

  “Damnation, Jo.” He rolled his eyes in impatient frustration. “I’m trying to be romantic. So be quiet and let me do it, all right?”

  She nodded, her pulse racing and her breath coming shallow and fast.

  He laced his fingers through hers. “I have never met any other woman like you, and I know that I never will again. You are the most challenging, stubborn, determined woman who ever—”

  She blinked. “This is romantic?”

  Except for a twitching of his lips, he ignored her comment and continued, “—who ever graced my life, along with a beauty, kindness, and loyalty beyond measure. I cannot imagine the darkness that would have continued for me if I hadn’t met you. But now, with you, I see nothing but a life of happiness and hope ahead of me.”

  Her throat tightened with emotion. “Thomas,” she choked out in a whisper. Tears dropped down her cheeks.

  His own voice cracked. “Will you marry me?”

  “Yes, I will.” She threw her arms around his neck, falling down into his embrace and tumbling onto the floor with him. Her tear-streaked face buried into his shoulder, and she couldn’t hold back her sobs of happiness. “Oh yes!”

  His arms went around her and pulled her close. Then he kissed her tenderly, with so much desire and love, with so much of his soul, that she trembled.

  He shifted away from her just far enough to take her left hand. “With everything that had to be done tonight, I didn’t have time to buy you a proper engagement ring, but perhaps this will do until we’re in London.”

  He slipped his gold signet ring tenderly onto her hand, and it dangled huge on her dainty finger. He frowned. One by one, he tried the ring on all her fingers, finally giving up and sliding it onto her thumb.

  Laughing with happiness, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him with all the love she carried inside herself.

  This, she thought as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, this was what truly belonging to someone meant. She had her family, and now she had him, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t fear the future. She welcomed it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lady Matteson, Marchioness of Chesney, eventually Duchess of Chatham…Thomas’s wife.

  Josie smiled to herself as she r
an the list of names through her mind again. The last one was the best of all.

  Too excited to sleep despite all the tiring events of the past few days, she sat curled up in a chair in front of the fire in her bedroom, her legs tucked beneath her and her toes sticking out from under the hem of her night rail. Around her the house slept, dark and quiet, with dawn only a few hours away.

  Thomas had brought her safely back to Chestnut Hill as promised, and even now she smiled at the way he’d looked when Papa met them at the front door. This man who was usually so strong, determined, and resolved stood as nervous as a schoolboy as he asked to speak privately with her father. With a reassuring smile at him over her shoulder, she’d been whisked upstairs by Mama, who kept hugging Josie tightly to her bosom and wiping away her tears of happiness.

  An hour later—poor man! Papa tortured him for an hour—she heard Thomas finally ride off into the night.

  Then Papa came to her room and asked her simply, “Do you love this man?”

  “With all my heart,” she whispered.

  “My darling daughter—” His voice cracked with emotion. “Then your marriage has my blessing.”

  He tenderly kissed her forehead, his eyes glistening, and he led her mother from the room as Mama began to cry even harder.

  Her brothers would be told at breakfast, although Josie suspected they already knew. The fact that they hadn’t beaten Thomas senseless was definitely a positive sign regarding future family gatherings.

  As for her, would the happy tingling in her toes ever stop? Oh, she hoped not! For the entire ride from the village to the house, she’d sat behind him on his horse with her arms tight around him, but she’d felt as if she were flying. She’d never thought she could feel this way about anyone, to want to find a way to wrap him inside not just her arms but also her heart, to hold him close there forever.

  In a fortnight she’d be in London. While the details of the marriage contract were being settled, she would meet his family, plan for the wedding, and shop on Bond Street for her trousseau, and her mother had promised her a new wardrobe befitting the fiancée of a marquess.