by Emma Evans
“Oh, of course not, my lord,” she said, brushing a few stray curls from her eyes as Simon suddenly found himself wondering what her hair would look like freed of its pins.
The thought was so strong, so startling, that for a moment, he could not find anything to say. His eyes fixed on her, his stomach tightening as he realized that, one day soon, he might be able to find out.
“Did you manage to achieve what you had set out to do?”
Her question was quiet, her eyes flickering to his for a moment before dropping back down to her tea tray again.
“Oh, the license,” he said, feeling rather foolish that he had not remembered to tell her immediately. “Yes, I did manage to procure one. The Archbishop, it seems, has heard of your brother’s situation and knows of your so-called betrothed.” He shook his head, still angry that she had been treated in such a way. “The license is now safely in my pocket and we may wed tomorrow, should that suit you. I will have to find a parish and a vicar, of course, but I doubt that will take too much time.”
He watched her keenly as he finished speaking, wondering what her reaction might be. She swallowed, hard, but then tried to smile, nodding slowly.
“I know this is a great deal to take in after what has been a very trying day,” Simon said softly, hoping to encourage her. “But I mean it with my whole heart when I say that I am just as grateful to you for accepting my proposal as you are to me. Have no doubts about my determination in this regard, Miss Dynes. I will be truly honored to have you as my bride.”
The small smile that spread across her face was enough to settle his worry over her reaction.
“You are very good, my lord,” Miss Dynes said quietly, pouring her tea with a hand that trembled just a little. “I will forever be in your debt.”
“No,” he said firmly. “You are not to think of me in such a way, Miss Dynes. I will be your husband and you will be my wife. We are to support and consider one another for the rest of our days and I will not have you feel indebted towards me. I confess that I have always turned away from the idea of marriage for I did not find any lady particularly suitable, but now that I have met you, I feel as though my search is well and truly over. You are more than any of the silly young ladies of the ton, more considerate, kind, and compassionate than any I have met before. Do not feel indebted, Miss Dynes, I beg of you. Let us simply be companions and friends, sworn to be by one another’s side for the rest of our days.”
Her eyes met his and Simon was surprised to see them sparkling with tears. Setting his dinner tray aside, he did what his mind was urging him to do and came to kneel by her feet, looking up into her face and taking her cold hand in his. He wanted to reassure her, to wipe the tears from her cheeks, and yet found that his heart was quickening so much that he was not quite sure what to say.
They remained like that for some moments, their eyes locked together.
“My dear Miss Dynes,” Simon whispered, reaching up to brush the tears from her damp cheek. “Let me show you the life you should have had. Let me show you kindness and consideration, for it is all that you deserve.”
She swallowed hard, and gave him a short, jerky nod, closing her eyes as he ran his thumb lightly over her soft cheek once again.
“I suppose you must call me Thackery now,” he said, trying to lighten the sudden tension that had come over them both. “Might I call you Clara?”
“Of course,” she replied hoarsely, opening her eyes and looking down at him. “I am to be your wife, after all.” She let out a small laugh, as though she could not quite believe it. “I am to be your wife tomorrow, it seems.”
Overwhelmed by her presence, her beauty, her sheer loveliness, Simon caught his breath, pushed himself up a little more and caught her lips with his. It was the briefest of kisses, only the lightest of touches and yet Simon felt as though someone had hit him soundly, such were the overwhelming feelings that crashed over him as he pulled back from her.
The astonishment in her eyes brought a flush to his cheeks and, without another word, he got to his feet, cleared his throat, and walked back to his seat.
“Tomorrow it is,” he murmured, before pulling his dinner tray towards him, and he began to eat once more.
Chapter Eleven
It took everything Clara had to walk towards the carriage, knowing that Lord Thackery had gone on ahead. Filled with doubts, she had struggled through the morning’s preparation, worry and anxiety plaguing her every moment.
Sophia walked beside her, her hand on Clara’s elbow. She had been her constant encouragement over the last few hours, stopping Clara from going in search of Lord Thackery and telling him that she had changed her mind. Filled with worry that Lord Thackery was only doing this to help her instead of thinking of himself and his own future, Clara was comforted only by the memory of how Lord Thackery had kissed her so gently, the assurance and warmth in his eyes bringing her a small measure of peace.
“This is truly going to be a wonderful morning,” Sophia sighed happily as the carriage door opened. “I know that Thackery is going to make you a wonderful husband.”
“I am sure he will,” Clara replied, her throat aching with a sudden sharp pain. “I just hope that I can be the kind of wife he needs.”
“I know you will be,” Sophia said with such a certainty that Clara could not help but smile. “I do not know when I was last this happy, Clara! To think that my dear friend and my cousin are to wed!” She looked up at the sky and sighed, her hands clasped together in delight. “It is truly a glorious day.”
Managing to smile, Clara shook her head at her friend. “Sophia, I can assure you that when it comes time for your wedding day, you shall feel all the happier.”
“Do you feel happy now?”
The question had Clara pausing, her smile fading. The truth was, she was not happy and content, not so much as delighted at the situation that had befallen her. She was worried and concerned, nervous and fearful.
“I think I shall be happy,” she answered honestly. “For the moment I will confess to being rather anxious.”
Sophia nodded slowly, looking somewhat serious. “I suppose that is to be expected. Come now, let us go. We do not want to keep Thackery waiting!”
Lord Thackery had gone on ahead, but only by a few minutes, and Clara and Sophia had a great deal of footmen surrounding them, all tasked with keeping them both quite safe until they reached the church. He had gone to ensure that all paperwork and monetary arrangements had been made, so that there would be nothing for Clara to do but to say her vows and sign her name.
It was all very simple and yet so extraordinarily complicated.
“Yes, we should go,” she murmured, gesturing for Sophia to take the hand of the footman and climb up into the carriage. “Quickly now.”
Just as Sophia climbed in, Clara saw another carriage round the corner at the end of the street and come rattling towards them. She did not pause to wait for it but took the hand of the footman and climbed in at once, relieved when the door was shut tightly behind her. It was as if she knew there was something—or someone—within that she did not want to meet.
“Whatever is the matter?” Sophia asked, looking puzzled. “You have gone quite white, Clara. Do tell me that you are not about to become ill!”
Clara shook her head, a sudden urgency swirling in her belly, spreading tension all through her. “No,” she said slowly, looking out past Sophia to the window behind her head. “No, I am not ill. It is just that there is a carriage drawing up to Lord Thackery’s house and I do not know who it might be.”
A frown appeared between Sophia’s brows. “A carriage?” she repeated, twisting her head around. “Who can it be? I did not think that Lord Thackery was expecting anyone.”
Clara felt her heart stop as she saw none other than her elder brother, Viscount Crawford, emerge from the carriage and walk smartly up the steps.
“Oh, goodness,” Sophia breathed, reaching up to rap on the roof of the carriage. “Go,”
she called, albeit rather loudly. “As quickly as you can.”
Feeling as though she could not quite get her breath, Clara stared out of the window, unable to take her eyes from the figure of her brother. How had he managed to get here so quickly? She had not expected him to simply show up in London and certainly had never expected him to be at Lord Thackery’s home in search of her!
“We must get to the church before he realizes what has happened and follows us,” Sophia said grimly. “He does not appear to know that we are within, does he?”
Clara shook her head, her fingers twining together and tightening painfully. “No, he is still at the door,” she whispered as the carriage reached the end of the street. “How did he get to London so quickly? His man… I do not understand.”
Sophia tossed her head, sitting up straight and reaching for Clara’s icy hand. “Now,” she said firmly as the carriage rounded the corner. “You need to show a little backbone, my dear friend. You are stronger than you know and certainly not one to quail in front of your brother. You need not quail in front of him, in fact. He has no hold on you and has not done so for as long as you have been of age. Stop living in fear of him, Clara! It will be more than freeing, I promise you.”
Startled by her young charge’s words, Clara stared at Sophia for a few moments, hardly able to believe what wisdom had come from her mouth. Sophie held her gaze steadily, making Clara realize that there was more maturity in her than she had first realized.
“You are quite right,” she said softly, feeling warmth slowly come back to her limbs. “I need not be afraid of him. I need not do what it is he wants, simply for fear that he will cut me off without a penny.”
“You would find your way even if you did not have family who cared for you,” Sophia replied with a half-smile. “You have never needed to feel entirely alone.”
Clara swallowed the lump in her throat. “I have thought myself a burden,” she explained hoarsely. “I thought that to turn to those I barely knew, even if they were my kin, would be much too difficult for them. So often my brother told me that I was a burden, that I had to earn my keep, and so, slowly, I began to believe him. When I saw things I was not meant to, I stayed silent, knowing that he did not need another reason to get rid of me. Fear has been my constant companion for so long that it has grown rather familiar, almost welcoming to me. I see now that it is something my brother has used in order to get me to do exactly what he wished.”
Sophia drew in a long breath, her eyes sparkling with tears although a smile curved her lips. “You have become very dear to me, Clara, and I am relieved to hear you speak with such fervor. You have nothing to fear from Lord Thackery for I know he will not treat you as your brother did. There will be a freedom there unlike anything you have known before. He will be able to protect you from all of your brother’s schemes.”
Clara sat back in the carriage seat, leaning against the squabs. Her stomach churned despite the firmness of her words, for whilst she was able to recognize her fear for what it was, it did not instantly remove it from her.
The carriage turned yet another corner and, with relief, Clara saw that her brother’s carriage did not follow. Hopefully, Lord Thackery’s staff would be able to keep him at bay for some time. Her worry over her marriage to Lord Thackery continued to rise, and she prayed that she would not tremble in front of the priest for fear that he might consider her coerced. There was still the worry that she was doing Lord Thackery wrong, somehow, that she should be able to stand up on her own two feet in front of her brother before finding who to wed—if that should be anyone—but then something curled inside her at the thought of turning away from Lord Thackery now.
When he had kissed her, her entire world had come to life with such a vivacity that she could hardly catch her breath—on top of which, she had to confess that she did find him both handsome and kind. There was a slow-growing affection for him that she could not deny, and as the carriage drew up to the church, Clara realized that she need not hide such a feeling from either herself or Lord Thackery any longer. It was quite proper for a wife to feel such things for her husband, was it not? She could let her heart take flight and, even if he never came to return her feelings, she could be satisfied in that.
“Here we are,” Sophia said quietly, breaking into her thoughts. “The church. Are you ready, Clara?”
“Yes,” Clara replied, looking out of the window and seeing the front door already open for her arrival. “Yes, I think I am.”
Walking down the aisle towards Lord Thackery was both one of the easiest and one of the most difficult things Clara had ever done. It was the start of a new life, walking into the unknown, but yet Clara felt a sense of peace that she had not experienced before. There was something in Lord Thackery’s eyes that told her everything would be quite all right and Clara chose to take him at his word.
The vows were said, even though hers were whispered, and Lord Thackery smiled down at her when the priest announced them to be husband and wife. It did not appear that he regretted his decision, and for that, Clara was grateful.
“Many congratulations,” Lord Guthrie murmured as Lord Thackery took her arm.
“Thank you,” Clara managed to reply, aware of the heavy wink that Lord Guthrie sent in Lord Thackery’s direction.
“I am quite sure you will do Thackery the world of good,” Lord Guthrie continued as they made their way from the church. “Now, did I hear someone say something about a wedding breakfast? I do hope there’s a splendid feast, Thackery. I didn’t have anything to eat this morning, you know, in the hope that you’d have a good spread.”
“Of course,” Lord Thackery chuckled, guiding Clara to the carriage. “Although you can go with Sophia and her maid. I want to be alone for a few minutes with my wife.”
Clara felt her cheeks burn with a sudden heat as her new husband guided her to the carriage, finding that she could not even speak as she stepped inside. How strange it felt to be sitting across from the man she now called husband!
“Well, my dear,” Lord Thackery murmured, as the carriage began to roll away. “Are you quite content now? Are you happy?” The look of worry in his eyes made Clara smile, realizing that Lord Thackery truly did care for her.
“Indeed, I am very happy,” she replied at once, her voice still rather breathless. “I cannot quite believe it but since the priest has announced us husband and wife, I must accept it!” She wanted to tell him about her brother’s presence in London, about what she had seen, but as yet there had not been an opportunity.
He chuckled, his eyes bright. “Well, priests are not known to lie,” he grinned, making her smile. “But I will confess to you that I feel a great sense of happiness in our marriage, Clara. I was not sure how I would feel, but now that I have you by my side as my wife, I cannot help but feel a great sense of delight.”
The honesty in his expression gave Clara pause.
“I think we shall do very well together,” he continued quietly. “Don’t you?”
“I do,” Clara managed to say, as his hand took hers. “I care for you very much, Lord Thackery.”
“Just ‘Thackery’ will do,” he replied softly, leaning forward across the carriage. “I would not want you calling your husband by his formal title.”
Clara swallowed, her eyes fluttering closed as she saw him move ever closer. “No, of course not,” she whispered, just as his lips touched her own—and all thoughts of telling him about her brother’s unexpected appearance flew out of her head at once as she was caught up in Lord Thackery’s embrace.
Chapter Twelve
Simon did not see the carriage waiting outside his home until he stepped outside, frowning as he offered his hand to his new bride.
“I quite forgot to tell you,” Clara said softly, her eyes darting from the carriage back towards him. “Just as Sophia and I made to leave, we saw my brother’s carriage pull up to the house.”
Surprise filled him. “Your brother?” he repeated, staring at the cr
est on the carriage. “You mean, Viscount Crawford is here?”
“I had thought he might have left by now,” Clara replied with a slight anxiety in her eyes. “I am sorry, Thackery.”
He pressed her hand before looping it through his arm. “You need not apologize, my dear. I am simply a little taken aback that he came to London so quickly, unless he was in town on other business and spoke to the man who came to seek your return to the country.”
“Mayhap that is the case,” Clara replied, her eyes now on the front door of the townhouse and Simon was sure he felt her tremble beneath his hand. “Sophia spoke to me as we drove to the church and showed me that I need not be so fearful of him any longer, however. In fact, I mayhap should have turned to family before now, but I always considered that I would be a burden to them should I do such a thing.”
“You need not have any regret now, my dear,” Simon murmured as they climbed the steps together. “You are quite safe and you shall have such a life of freedom as you have never known before, I promise you that.”
Clara drew in a deep breath, settling her shoulders. “Regardless, should he be within, I shall need to talk to him myself,” she replied, looking up at him as though for his reassurance. “He needs to see that I will not cower before him any longer.”
Simon nodded slowly and smiled softly, surprised at the spark that was within her. It was something he had not seen before and was glad to see it. His wife had an inner strength that perhaps even she did not yet recognize.
“Very well,” he agreed, patting her hand. “But I shall not leave you with him, of course.”
Turning his head, he gestured towards Lord Guthrie and Sophia.
“Stay there for a moment, will you?” he called, as the footman opened the carriage door. “I shall explain all in a few minutes.”
Catching Clara looking back at them both for a moment, Simon chuckled and shook his head.
“If you are having any thoughts of Sophia finding a suitable husband in Lord Guthrie, I can assure you that such a thing will never occur,” he said, as Clara’s cheeks brushed with pink. “Lord Guthrie is quite determined to remain a bachelor, and besides, I think him a little too old and staid for such a bright young thing as Sophia.”