His Unexpected Bride

by Jo Ann Ferguson

  The woman smiled broadly, creasing her cheeks, which were unlined despite her gray hair. “Welcome to the Primrose and the Crown. I am Mrs. Hunt. Are you seeking something to eat or a place to rest or both?”

  “Supper is what we want first, then two rooms as well as lodging for those accompanying us.”

  The woman looked from him to Tess and then on to Mr. Knox. “Two rooms?”

  “One for Lady Hawksmoor, and one for the two of us,” Cameron replied smoothly, acting as if he had not seen Mrs. Hunt’s curious look.

  “Very well.” Mrs. Hunt smiled at Tess. “This way, if you please, my lady.”

  “Tess?”

  She turned to look at Cameron. “Yes?”

  “Do not linger to change for dinner. I think it would be best, if Mrs. Hunt’s kitchen can manage it, if we dined as soon as possible.”

  Mrs. Hunt replied, “Your dinner can be served at any time.”

  “I would like to wash up,” Tess said, not adding she had looked forward to ridding herself of this dusty dress. “Then I shall be back down to join you for dinner.”

  “Excellent.” He went to where Mr. Knox was entering the taproom.

  Going with Mrs. Hunt up the stairs, Tess was pleased to find the room comfortable, albeit utilitarian. The bed with its high headboard was simple, and a chair, a dressing screen, and a table were the only other pieces of furniture set before the wide hearth. The floor was as clean as those below, and some sort of pattern had been placed upon the wall, although she could not discern it, for the room was shadowed, with only a single candle burning.

  Jenette rushed in with word that the bags were on their way up. While Tess cleaned her face and hands with the tepid water in the bowl on the table, a fire was laid on the hearth. She guessed by the time she returned, the damp odor of a room that had not been used in a while would be banished.

  She paused only long enough to peek under the cloth of the cage. Heddy was lying on her side, her soft brown underbody contrasting with the spines that grew along her back. Her eyes on either side of her narrow snout were closed, and she was making some sort of snuffling sound, even though she was still asleep. Wanting to reach into the cage and scratch Heddy’s belly, Tess did not. She simply smiled and drew the cloth back before going out of the room, glad she had Jenette and the hedgehog as connections with what had been.

  Cameron and Mr. Knox were waiting by the door to the dining room when she came back down the stairs. She understood why Cameron had not wanted to delay. The room was already filling with other guests. He must have seen other carriages by the stables.

  “Go ahead,” said Mr. Knox. “I will be right with you.” He turned to where a lad was standing by the front door. A flash of coins exchanged hands.

  Cameron asked, as if to himself, “What is he doing now? Any polish he has placed on his boots will be ruined before he arrives in Town.”

  Tess had no answer as they went into the dining room, with Mr. Knox hurrying after them. A small square table was set aside for them not far from the hearth. Tess was aware of the curious eyes aimed at her as she walked through the room. When Cameron’s hand settled over hers on his arm and then tightened, she knew he had seen the stares as well. That they bothered him astonished her, because he was not her true husband to be distressed by the admiration of other men.

  Mr. Knox chuckled as Cameron sat Tess so her back was to the room. “You are the envy of every man in the room,” Mr. Knox said as he pulled out a chair on the other side of the table. “You should be grateful to Masterson for saving his pretty daughter for you.”

  Cameron drew out the chair across from Tess’s. “That is not a topic for dinner, Eustace.”

  “Why not?” Mr. Knox leaned both elbows on the table and propped his chin on one hand. “I can think of no better topic for this meal than to speak of your pretty bride.”

  “You are going to embarrass Tess.”

  She started to smile at Cameron in gratitude, but before she could reply, Mr. Knox laughed and said, “I cannot believe any woman would be embarrassed by a compliment, especially Masterson’s daughter. She has been shut away in that country house while Masterson waited for the perfect match for her. Then along you came, my friend, and the marriage was made.”

  “I would rather not speak of that.” Cameron’s face was calm, but she noted how his hand had closed into a fist on the table.

  “Then shall we speak of how glad I am to have Masterson’s house behind us?” Mr. Knox smiled up at a maid who set a loaf of bread and some sliced beef on the table. With a wink at her, he added, “The scenery is much more pleasurable here now that we do not have Masterson glowering at us every minute.”

  “Papa might not have glowered if …” Tess lowered her eyes from the abrupt shock in Mr. Knox’s. How could she so quickly forget the promise made to her father to say nothing about why he had agreed to the wedding?

  “If what?” prompted Mr. Knox.

  “I have said too much already.” She reached for a slice of bread.

  “Too much?” He laughed. “You keep your tongue so firmly behind your teeth that one would think you did not have one. Like a little mouse in a shadowed corner. Your good fortune, old chap.” He snatched several pieces of meat and put them on the plate in front of him. “You do not need a prattling shrew who babbles endlessly and says nothing of value like her father.”

  “Eustace, that—”

  Tess interrupted Cameron as she scowled at his friend. “Mr. Knox, I would ask you not to speak so of my father when he is not here to defend himself from your scurrilous comments.”

  “I am saying nothing here I would not say to his face.”

  “Then I shall be as forthright. I find your manners intolerable, Mr. Knox. If it is the way of the ton and their hangers-on to so cruelly ridicule decent folks, then I am glad I shall not claim a place among you.”

  “Not claim?” Mr. Knox’s eyes widened. “As Lady Hawksmoor, you are a part of the very thing you despise.”

  “I shall be part of it only as long as—”

  “That is enough, Tess,” Cameron said quietly.

  She looked at her husband, despising his composed expression. If she had not seen the powerful passions in his eyes when he had pulled her into his arms, she would be able to forgive him now for acting as if he had divested himself of all emotions. Did he hide them because he did not trust them or because he was as disgusted with them as he appeared to be with her at the moment?

  “I shall not sit here and listen to this son of a sow speak so of my father, who is a well-respected man.”

  Mr. Knox snorted in disagreement.

  Tess started to reply, but Cameron’s hand over hers was a silent admonition not to give voice to her anger. She looked down at her plate. The idea of eating sickened her. She did not want to stay here with her father’s blackmailer, who took every opportunity to belittle him. Nor did she wish to eat with Cameron, who seemed not to care what Mr. Knox said but censored every word she tried to speak.

  “Excuse me,” she said, coming to her feet. Even though she felt a momentary pulse of malicious delight that Mr. Knox had to stand as well as Cameron, she turned and walked out of the dining room.

  Her ears strained for the sound of Cameron calling after her to come back and accept his friend’s apology. She heard nothing but the rumble of the voices from the dining room. Climbing the stairs, she slammed the door as she entered her room. The sound did not give her the satisfaction she had hoped for, but it was, she knew, the only satisfaction she would get out of this unwanted marriage.

  Six

  Stomping across the room, Tess glared at the fire crackling on the hearth while rain ran down the uneven glass in the windows. The cheerful wallcovering was bright in the glow of the extra candles she suspected Jenette had badgered from the innkeeper.

  As if a bit of extra light could lighten my dark spirits tonight! Walking past the small bag that contained the clothes brought into the inn for her, her hands fis
ted on the footboard of the bed. A mocking laugh filled her head. How self-assured she had been when she told Cameron she could deal with anything that might happen on their journey to London.

  She wanted nothing but to go to bed and put the whole of this evening behind her. Ringing for Jenette, who should have been here instead of flirting with Cameron’s valet Park, she began to undo the buttons down the back of her dress. Two flew off, clattering like small hailstones as they rolled under the bed.

  “Oh, my!” gasped Jenette as she rushed in and bent to retrieve them. “My lady, you should have waited for me.”

  “I know.” Tess did not want to argue with her abigail, so she let Jenette undo the rest of her dress. Going to the glass by the dressing screen, she knelt in the overstuffed chair beneath it. Her fingertips touched her straight lips. They would soften beneath one of Cameron’s kisses. Too easily she let her desires for them persuade her to toss aside her good sense when Cameron was near. His touch was the most wonderful thing she had ever experienced. The very thought terrified her, because she would be a widgeon to become more involved with a man who wanted only to put her out of his life.

  A knock was set on the door. Realizing she wore nothing more than her chemise and stockings, she sprinted behind the dressing screen while Jenette answered the door. “Thank you,” Tess heard her abigail say, before the latch closed again with a soft click.

  Peering around the edge of the cotton-covered screen, Tess asked, “Who was it?”

  “The innkeeper … Mr. Hunt.”

  “What did he want?”

  “He delivered this bowl of soup, a pot of hot chocolate, and a bottle of brandy for you.” Smiling, she held out the tray. “The note is from Lord Hawksmoor.”

  Gingerly, unsure what this gift meant, Tess took the pewter salver. She placed it on the table by the bed and stared at it. Brandy? Why would Cameron send her brandy? She did not need to recall he had been drinking Papa’s brandy when he became so intoxicated that he was a willing participant in the wedding ceremony, for every waking second was a reminder of that. Or had been it sent for some other reason? With quaking fingers, she lifted the unopened bottle.

  Mayhap in London Cameron was accustomed to women who drank such a quantity of spirits. She shivered as she wondered what sort of women he usually consorted with when he was in Town. In spite of Papa’s words about Cameron’s position as a second son and how women were disgusted by the barely discernible scar, she suspected there were many women in London who would appreciate the attentions of such a handsome man who was the brother of a duke and clearly plump in the pockets.

  Putting the bottle on the tray, she was ready to send it back untouched. Then she remembered Jenette had said there was a note. Tess unfolded it. The short message was written in a bold hand, which matched Cameron’s demeanor.

  My dear Tess,

  Please accept this to eat and drink in hopes it will bring you a pleasant night’s rest. Our journey on the morrow will be shorter, and tomorrow evening we shall dine more comfortably in the privacy of my house. That will allow us time to work out a way to deal with the uneasiness of our lives together until I can find a way to end this.

  Cameron

  She blinked back unexpected tears. What had she expected? An apology that he had given her a scold in front of the inn’s other guests when she had wanted only to defend her father? Or had she dreamed—foolishly—of a profession of adoration he had been unwilling to say aloud?

  She resisted the temptation to crumple the note and throw it back onto the tray before she sent for the innkeeper to take away this unwelcome gift. Looking down at it again, she bristled as if she were a hedgehog like Heddy when she reread, until I can find a way to end this. She needed to show Cameron she was not entirely witless, even though he obviously believed that in the wake of this evening’s conversation.

  Her fingers refused to close over the paper to wrinkle it into a ball. As much as she wanted to dismiss his note as coldhearted and unfeeling, she could not keep from recalling how gentle his touch had been when he led her to the carriage and away from her home to begin a new life which neither of them had anticipated when they first met two days earlier. In the rarely unguarded depths of his eyes, she had seen the powerful emotions he tried to conceal.

  Hearing a chuckle, she looked up to see Jenette smiling.

  “What is so amusing to you?” Tess placed the letter on the table.

  Folding Tess’s gown and placing it on the foot of the bed, Jenette said, “Forgive me, my lady. ’Tis nothing. Nothing at all.” She went to the tray. “Do you wish me to pour for you?”

  “Some of the chocolate, please.”

  “With a dash of brandy?”

  Tess bit her lip as she stared at the full bottle. It must have cost Cameron dear. If she left it behind untouched, the innkeeper would sell it again. It should be enjoyed, although she doubted Cameron would drink very much brandy again so soon after letting it betray him.

  Picking up the bottle, she said, “Jenette, I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Of course, my lady.”

  “Pour me a cup of chocolate while I dress. Then I want you to do an errand for me.”

  Behind the screen, Tess drew on her simple white nightgown. She closed her wrapper over it before going to her bag. She was about to open it when she heard scratching sounds from the hedgehog’s cage. She lifted the cloth from it and opened her bag, then took out the small box that contained the food she had brought for Heddy’s journey to London. Opening it, she gave the hedgehog a serving and set the cage in a shadowed corner by the bed where the moonlight would please Heddy. She ignored Jenette’s grumbles about bringing insects into a perfectly clean room.

  Leaving Heddy to enjoy her dinner, Tess found the writing box she had not intended to use until she reached London. She lifted out a single slip of paper and thanked Jenette, who put a cup of the fragrant hot chocolate beside her along with the cup of soup. Tess began to write. Words which usually came to her with ease faltered, and she stumbled her way through a few sentences. Reading it, she was unsatisfied. She considered throwing it away and starting over, but she doubted if she could do better. Folding it, she held it out to her abigail.

  “Jenette, would you take this and the bottle of brandy to the innkeeper and ask him to deliver it to where Mr. Knox and Lord Hawksmoor are staying?”

  “No need to bother Mr. Hunt. His lordship and Mr. Knox are just across the hall.” Her eyes twinkled, and Tess suspected Jenette was hoping for the chance to see Park again. “I shall deliver it myself.” Before Tess could chastise Jenette for such unsuitable behavior, her maid had slipped out the door. It remained slightly ajar behind her.

  Curiosity teased Tess to sneak closer and listen to what was said. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering at the thought. But at the thought of what? Of being discovered lurking there like a naughty child or of having Cameron catch sight of her when she was dressed so inappropriately?

  She laughed aloud, but there was no humor in the sound. Cameron had seen her in déshabillé already. To play the shy lass flirting with a dashing rogue was something she could not do.

  Jenette’s laugh floated into the room. It possessed the coquettish tone Tess had dreamed would be in her own laugh when she met the man who touched her heart so much she was willing to spend the rest of her life with him.

  Footsteps faded in the distance. Where was Jenette bound now? The door swung wide.

  Tess took one step toward it to close it, then gasped, “Cameron! What are you doing here?” She clutched the neck of her wrapper to her chin as his gaze swept over her as if he had never seen her before.

  He had removed his coat and cravat and loosened the top two buttons on his shirt, just as he had when he had been lying beside her in her bed. Then he had gathered her into his arms and against the hard breadth of his chest. Her breath grew uneven with the memory of those splendid sensations.

  When a smile drifted across his lips, she reali
zed how intently she was staring at him. She looked away from his knowing eyes to see he carried the brandy, a glass, and her note.

  “That was not the pleasant greeting a wife should offer her husband, Tess.”

  “I did not invite you here.”

  “I am quite aware of that.” He closed the door, ignoring her frown. “Jenette and Park have gone to sit by the fireplace in the dining room, and Eustace is sharing tales in the taproom. Your gift of this brandy raises questions—”

  “Gift? You sent it to me!”

  “You are mistaken. Why would I send you brandy of all things?” He pointed with the bottle toward the steaming pot of hot chocolate. “I asked the innkeeper to send that to you.”

  “The brandy was with it.”

  He set the bottle on the table. “Now I understand the cool tone of your note.” Opening it, he began with, “Cameron.” He looked up. “Not even a ‘Dear Cameron,’ which you seem to believe would suggest some obligation on your part.”

  “I was distressed.”

  “Clearly.” He looked down at the note and read, “I would be an ungrateful wretch not to say thank you for your thought in sending a tray to my room. So please accept my thanks. You need not worry that I shall delay you on your journey to London on the morrow.” Tossing it onto the table, he said, “It is signed Tess Masterson. Your signature now, even though neither of us may like that fact, is Lady Cameron Hawksmoor. Mistakes like that could create even more problems for us in Town.”

  “Oh.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Forgive me for falling back on habit when I was upset. It was thoughtless of me.”

  “As you believed it was thoughtless of me to send this brandy to you.” He set the bottle on the tray and picked up a cup. “May I?”

  Tess nodded, breathing with silent relief when he poured some of the hot chocolate into the other cup. He handed it to her and then took the one that had been cooling beside the soup.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “It seems I am developing an intolerable habit of jumping to baseless conclusions.”