And when he reached her house, he intended to offer her the choice—a chance to escape...or he would marry her himself.
* * *
Regina could not stop her sense of foreboding. Her maid finished helping her dress, but despite the gardenias in her hair and the sky-blue wedding gown trimmed with lace, she felt that something was very wrong. There had been no answer from Lachlan over the last day or two, and she questioned whether he was aware of the new wedding date. Her mother had assured her that of course he knew and that he would be there. Arabella had sent a servant to his father’s house to ensure it.
But there was no sign of him yet, and it was time for the ceremony.
‘You needn’t go downstairs yet,’ her maid Nell offered. ‘We can wait until he arrives.’
But Regina felt the need to see for herself what was happening. She could not hide in her room like a frightened mouse. ‘No, the wedding is supposed to be at ten o’clock. It’s nearly a quarter after the hour.’
She opened the door to her room and stepped into the narrow hallway. Her mother had wanted them to be married at the house, so the clergyman was waiting. There were nearly fifty guests standing, and her father’s face softened with joy when he saw her. He crossed the room to offer his arm, and she took it. He looked dashing in his double-breasted black cloth coat and silk waistcoat. ‘My dear, you are a vision,’ he said. With a slight laugh, he added, ‘If only your bridegroom were here to see it.’
He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘I sent one of the footmen to fetch him. He must have been delayed, but do not worry. Some of the guests mentioned that the streets were more crowded because of an accident with a cart. But be reassured—the laird is a man of honour, and he will be here.’
She wanted to believe it but could not be certain. ‘Then I will wait.’ She went to stand before the minister, but she could feel the sympathetic gazes from the wedding guests. A quarter of an hour passed, then another. She remained standing, not looking at anyone.
* * *
But when an hour had passed, she could not ignore the guests whispering. Her father’s face turned thunderous. ‘I will go and fetch him here myself.’
Regina wanted to tell him no, but her insides felt like ice. He wasn’t coming. She knew it in her heart.
But then, she heard a door opening, and the guests began to murmur. She turned to the door and saw a bold blue and green pattern, and a Highlander crossed to her side. But it was not Lachlan MacKinloch—it was Dalton St George, wearing a kilt. Lord Camford reached for her hand and kissed it. ‘I apologise for being late.’ To the guests, he said, ‘Grant me a moment alone with my bride to grovel at her feet.’
A few women laughed quietly, while other guests who recognised him appeared confused. Before her parents could intervene, Lord Camford took her hand and led her away. ‘Allow me to rescue you,’ he murmured under his breath.
‘Gladly,’ she whispered, following him into the hall. He led her into the music room and closed the doors behind them.
Regina sank into a chair, burying her face in her hands. She didn’t know whether to weep or groan with frustration. ‘Why did you come, Lord Camford?’
‘Because you didn’t read Lachlan’s note, nor any of mine. You refused my calls, and I had no other way to tell you that the laird married someone else.’
‘His governess,’ she predicted, feeling as if the bottom had dropped out beneath her. She had burned his letter without reading it. And he had been trying to call off the wedding. Dear God.
‘Aye,’ Camford answered. ‘I am sorry to be the bearer of such news.’
Her emotions gathered into a tight ball of humiliation, but she managed to say dully, ‘The wedding is off. We’ll send the guests away and be done with it.’ She already felt miserable, and the last thing she wanted was to face everyone else or see the sympathy in their eyes.
But then, this was what she deserved. She had been using the laird as a means of escaping her problems. She hadn’t wanted to marry him, and it was now quite evident that he hadn’t wanted to wed her either. If only she had opened his letter or allowed Camford to pay a call, she would have known the truth.
The viscount came close and knelt at her feet. ‘I know that you wanted to marry him to escape London. Because you’re afraid of your father’s blackmailer.’
She didn’t look at him, so afraid she would break into tears. He took her hands, and she felt her heart begin to pound. ‘But there is no reason why I cannot give you what you’re wanting.’
What did he mean by that? Regina stared into his green eyes, uncertain. Then Lord Camford said, ‘Marry me, instead. I will take you to Scotland, and you can escape London as you wanted to. I will also ensure that no one ever blackmails you or your father again.’
Marry Camford? She blinked at that, a denial rising to her lips. She couldn’t just marry him. Did she think he could just substitute himself as the bridegroom and no one would notice or care? Her father would be furious.
Shock prevented her from answering, though she gaped at him. Camford continued holding her hands, and then she met his penetrating gaze. ‘I know I’m not the man you want. But perhaps you can still be content.’
His words held such gentleness, she felt tears in her eyes. ‘I don’t know.’ She didn’t want him to hold regrets, and certainly a marriage to her would cause him to resent her.
He released her hands and took her face in his hands. The touch of his palms warmed her cheeks, and she felt a flutter within her skin. Every logical thought in her brain simply fled.
‘I’ve stood in Lachlan’s shadow for too long. I won’t be doing so again.’
With that, he leaned in and claimed her mouth in a kiss. His lips were inviting, and heat roared through her. She could hardly breathe as he gently took her mouth, showing her what he wanted. There were no demands, only an offering of himself. When he pulled back, she was trembling, unable to grasp a single thought.
‘I would never force you against your will,’ he said. ‘But I cannot promise not to tempt you.’ With that, he released her and stepped back. ‘Marry me, Regina.’
Chapter Six
Dalton returned to the room of wedding guests, behaving as if nothing had gone wrong. There was outright confusion from many of the onlookers, along with a low murmur of conversation. Some recognised him and were unsure of what was happening. Others were elderly with failing eyesight, and he suspected they didn’t even realise he wasn’t Lachlan MacKinloch. Since he was dressed as a Highlander, they hadn’t looked too closely.
Lord and Lady Havershire appeared stunned by his presence, but neither dared to say a word in front of their friends. The countess seemed if she were about to faint, while Lord Havershire looked ready to call him out with pistols at dawn. The earl was about to say something when his wife suddenly touched his arm and shook her head.
Instead, Dalton waited near the clergyman. He had done everything he could to help Regina save face. And if she did not want to go through with the ceremony, then that was her choice.
It was strange, standing here to wait for her. He’d never dreamed of anything like this—and yet, the stares and whispers didn’t bother him at all. He was here to rescue Regina, whether that meant stealing her away...or speaking his vows in a marriage that he’d hardly dared to imagine.
Within another minute, she opened the doors and walked through the crowd of people to stand before him. Slowly, she extended her hand to him.
He couldn’t stop the smile that broke over his face. Aye, there were so many things wrong with this day—her shame at being left at the altar. Her parents’ fury at a switched bridegroom. The fact that he didn’t have a wedding licence, which made this entire ceremony illegal. But this was about saving her from humiliation. And when he glanced at her mother, Lady Havershire seemed to understand.
The Earl of Havershire was another matter. ‘Regina
—’ His voice was razor-sharp, but she interrupted him before he could protest.
‘Everything will be fine,’ she said. ‘We will be married.’
He started to shake his head, but she sent her father a sharp look of warning. Then her mother leaned in and spoke softly to the earl. Dalton didn’t know what she had said, but it seemed to pacify the man.
The clergyman’s expression was concerned, but Regina muttered beneath her breath, ‘Continue the ceremony, if you please.’
‘But, my lady, without a—’
‘Just say the words,’ she interrupted. ‘We will worry about the rest later.’
He knew the clergyman was speaking about the lack of a licence. But Regina had effectively silenced him, implying that they would correct the matter at another time.
Dalton nodded in agreement. And when the clergyman began the words to the wedding ceremony, he no longer cared about anything else. He was speaking vows to the woman he desired above all others, the woman whose heart he wanted. Regina had, by some miracle, agreed to marry him in front of guests. He didn’t know what had convinced her—and he knew she had no feelings for him beyond friendship—but for now, it was enough. He pushed back the rising doubts that warned him she would regret this. After a few weeks of living in Scotland, she might wish she’d never gone through with the false marriage. Regina deserved a true English gentleman as her husband, and Dalton could never be that for her. The wildness of Scotland burned in his blood, and he could never be a proper viscount.
When the minister asked if there were any reasons why they should not be wed, Regina turned to her parents and sent another silent threat. Her mother’s face was pale, but she said nothing at all. Neither did the earl.
It surprised him that they’d listened to their daughter, for he’d expected her parents to raise any number of objections. But he supposed they were trying not to cause a scene in front of so many guests. It was bad enough that Lachlan had cried off, but Regina had clearly made her choice. She spoke her vows in a voice loud enough to be heard by all.
Dalton, in turn, promised to love and cherish her, forsaking all others. When it came time for the ring, she appeared worried for a moment. But he had come prepared for that, and he reached into his waistcoat for his grandmother’s wedding ring. It was a simple silver ring, engraved with roses, and he slid it on her finger. The clergyman blessed their marriage, and Dalton leaned in to kiss her. It was only a slight meeting of lips before he pulled back.
‘This isn’t a true marriage,’ she whispered.
‘Aye,’ he agreed. ‘But they don’t know that.’
‘My father very well might murder us both,’ she said against his ear. ‘What shall we do? There will be so many questions. People will want to know why I married you. And why my parents didn’t put a stop to it.’
Dalton cupped the back of her nape and whispered back, ‘I think I should carry you off, as a Highlander would. It would save us from answering questions.’
Her expression turned thoughtful, and she nodded. ‘I agree with you. We’ve already created a scandal. We might as well make our escape.’
He reached down and lifted her into his arms. Regina let out a startled gasp before she tossed her posy of flowers to one of the women. To the crowd of guests, Dalton called out, ‘Enjoy the wedding feast!’ He strode out of the room, taking her away. And from the way she clung to him, he suspected that Regina didn’t mind it at all. Several of the shocked guests began to applaud, and a mood of good humour rose among everyone.
He took her to his waiting coach and lifted her inside. Regina still had amusement on her expression, even after he spoke to the coachman and closed the door.
‘What have we done, Lord Camford?’
‘I believe we’ve caused the scandal of the Season,’ he said. ‘And I, for one, am glad of it.’
* * *
Regina had never done anything this spontaneous in all her life. It felt strangely good to be rebellious. Her bridegroom had run off, and in return, she had married someone else. Sort of. Without a licence, it wasn’t really a wedding or a marriage. But somehow, it had been empowering to take command of her situation and ensure that she wasn’t abandoned at the altar.
Before their coach could drive away, her father was banging on the door with his fist. Camford didn’t open it. ‘We can leave if you don’t want to talk to him.’
She didn’t, but somehow it seemed even worse to turn her back on her father. He was likely in shock after what she’d done, and she did owe him an explanation.
‘No, it’s all right. We should open the door.’
The moment Camford did, she regretted the decision. Her father wasn’t in shock—he was livid with rage.
His face was practically purple, and his greying hair was in disarray from where he’d raked his hand through it. ‘Regina, what have you done?’
She could tell that her new husband was about to intervene, but she lifted her hand, silently asking him to wait. ‘Lord Camford offered to stand in for Locharr when he didn’t arrive.’
‘But Lachlan agreed to marry you. Something must have happened,’ her father argued. ‘I cannot understand why you felt the need to go through this...sham of a ceremony.’ He stopped to glare at Lord Camford. ‘It is not a legal marriage, and it will be annulled.’
Her father started to tell her all the reasons why she’d made such a mistake, and Regina bit her lip, wondering how to best proceed. He appeared intent upon stopping them from leaving, and she glanced over at Camford in a desperate plea for help.
The viscount understood her, and he interrupted the earl’s tirade, saying, ‘Your daughter received another blackmail note just the other day, threatening to tell everyone her secrets. Is that something you want?’
The earl blanched at his words. ‘Wh-what do you mean?’
‘I mean that your daughter is afraid of the threat. Since Locharr cried off and married his governess, I offered to take Regina to Scotland myself. You needn’t worry, because I will protect her.’
‘But—I swore to Tavin on his deathbed that my daughter would wed his son. They were promised.’ He reached for his handkerchief, fighting back another cough.
‘That promise is over now,’ Camford said. ‘But the blackmail must stop. I am taking Regina to Cairnross in Scotland, and I have an investigator searching for the culprit. They will be apprehended soon and prosecuted.’
With that, the earl grew more agitated. He shook his head. ‘No. You cannot investigate this.’ He stepped back and turned his face as a coughing spell overtook him. When he had finished, he insisted, ‘The past must be left alone.’ Then he turned back to her. ‘Regina—I promise, I will take care of you. I will talk to Locharr. Make him see what a mistake he has made.’
She could see how upset he was, and she felt the need to reassure him. ‘Write to him if you wish. But Papa, this was my choice. It may not be a true marriage, but I believe that Lord Camford will protect me. He has promised to bring me to Scotland, and that is what I want.’
Her father didn’t appear to be listening. He was muttering to himself about talking to Lachlan, and without saying farewell, he turned around and went back to the house. His behaviour was so unlike him, she didn’t know what to do. But Camford gave orders to the driver and closed the door.
‘Do you still want to go to Scotland?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘I think it’s best if I go away for a while. Then maybe my father will calm himself, and I can decide what I want to do next.’
They travelled through the London streets, and Lord Camford moved to sit beside her. She didn’t truly know what he wanted, but he said, ‘We need to talk about this marriage and come to our own understanding.’
His voice was calm and reasonable. He was right on that account, and she turned to face him. ‘Thank you for helping me save face today. I don’t know how I made such a
mistake about Locharr. I truly thought he would come.’
‘He called off the engagement in the letter I gave you. He said he spoke to you about it at the ball, but I think there was a misunderstanding.’
She thought about it and recalled that they had spoken about his governess. ‘I told him I knew he was in love with Miss Goodson. It didn’t matter to me because we were never going to have a marriage based upon love. I said that we needed to move on. But perhaps he thought I meant we needed to end it.’
Camford nodded. ‘He did. And he asked me to give you the letter to ensure it. When I realised you were still making wedding plans, I tried to call upon you several times. Your parents and the servants refused to let me see you.’
And she hadn’t answered his notes either, feeling so caught up in worry for her father. ‘It was my fault about ignoring everyone. I just...didn’t want to think of the wedding, aside from wanting my father to be there. He’s been so ill, I fear that he doesn’t have much time.’
Camford reached out to take her hand. His palm was warm, soothing against hers. ‘I understand. But I also need you to understand that...there are complications now.’
She was fully distracted by his touch, knowing she should pull her hand away...and not wanting to. ‘What sort of complications?’
‘Even though our ceremony was not legal, we are bound together. Just by travelling alone together to Scotland, your reputation will be ruined if we part ways. I would rather wed you again legally so that does not happen.’
She turned to look outside the window. So much had happened, she hadn’t had time to consider the long-term consequences of this impulse. To stall him, she asked, ‘Why did you help me today? I never imagined you would do such a thing.’
The Highlander and the Wallflower Page 9