by Tarah Scott
Her brow knit. “I do not need you to get me out of trouble.”
“Look around you. You are in trouble. You are correct on one point. Balfour is a pirate—and a nasty one at that. The smallest slip on our part and he will kill us.”
She glanced toward the door, then returned her gaze to him. “Why would he kill us?”
“As I said, he is a nasty pirate. There is no way out of this, Miss Shaw. You are about to be married to me.”
Panic widened her eyes. “There is no need.”
“That was before you left the safety of Mrs. Eldridge’s house party and followed me here. Christ, what possessed you? Have you no sense at all?” he muttered.
“What possessed me was the fear that my father was marrying me to—to someone like him.” She pointed at the door Balfour had disappeared through.
“Even if your fears were founded—” Adam broke off and raked a hand through his hair. “To say your actions were foolish does not begin to say how serious this is.”
“I know I offered you marriage, but I have changed my mind,” she said. “I will not marry you. He cannot make me. Neither can you.”
Adam snorted. “Balfour will force laudanum down your throat, if necessary. If that doesn’t work, he will shoot you—though he will likely shoot me first, as he will not risk that I will kill him first.”
“Not if I shoot him first,” she said.
Adam stared. “Madam, you are, indeed, mad.”
She rolled her eyes. “I have a pistol, you fool.”
“A pistol.” He narrowed his eyes. “Where on your person could you possibly have a pistol?”
She hesitated.
“Miss Shaw,” he growled.
“In my reticule, of course.”
“A muff pistol?” When she nodded, he extended a hand. “If you please.”
She gave a dark laugh. “I would advise you not attempt to take it from me. You can overcome him.” Her gaze sharpened. “I believe you are afraid of him. I had no idea you were a coward.”
“It is easy for you to speak of courage when you are not the one doing the fighting. Make no mistake, the odds will not be one to one, or even two to one. They will be one to ten.” When she frowned, Adam sighed. “Balfour always has men nearby to protect him. You saw those two large brutes in the hallway. They will not hesitate to kill you—after they have done things to you that you cannot imagine.”
“What part do you have in this?” she demanded.
He glanced at the door, then stepped close and whispered, “I am working with the Crown to recoup stolen gold.”
She drew a sharp breath.
Adam nodded. “And you very well may have brought the operation to a premature end. We have little time. Listen carefully. We will say the vows, then we will deal with our marriage later.”
She sat back onto the chair. “I cannot think. This is…too much.”
Adam dropped to one knee beside her. “My first priority is your safety. Once you are safely away from here, I must finish what I have started.”
He considered wresting the pistol from her, but she may well need some measure of protection, and even a tiny muff pistol might save her life. He stood and extended a hand. She took a deep breath, released it, then placed her smaller hand in his and stood. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as the door opened.
Balfour entered. “I hope I am not interrupting.”
“Not at all,” Adam said. “Miss Shaw and I were just discussing where we will go on our honeymoon.”
Balfour lifted a brow in polite inquiry.
“France,” Adam said. “Once our business here is finished.”
“A fine choice.” Balfour smiled at her. “Will this be your first visit to France, Miss Shaw?”
“Nae, but I was very young, and remember little of the trip,” she said, without giving away any of the anxiety she’d revealed to Adam only moments ago.
Balfour turned toward him and pulled a sheath of folded paper from his inside jacket pocket. “You are to take this note and fetch the special license from the bishop.” He handed the paper to Adam.
Adam checked the surprise that flashed through him. “If it is all the same to you, Balfour, you may send one of your men for the license.”
Balfour smiled congenially. “Rest assured, Miss Shaw will be safe in my keeping until you return.”
Fury swept through Adam. What was the man up to? Why force him to get the license himself. He looked at Sophie.
“I will be fine. Mr. Balfour will keep me company.” She turned a charming smile on him.
Balfour looked at Adam. “A horse awaits you out front.”
Adam gave a slight bow to Sophie. “Miss Shaw.” He turned to Balfour. “Balfour, a word before I go.”
They went into the hallway. Adam wasn’t surprised to see half a dozen men now standing guard outside the room. No doubt, another half dozen lurked in the shadows somewhere.
When they’d taken three steps, Adam halted. “Harm a hair on her head, and I will kill you.”
“Now why would I harm her?”
“Do not toy with me, Balfour. If anything happens to her, I will lose a fortune.”
“Ah, she is an heiress.”
“Don’t be a fool, of course she is an heiress,” he snapped. “I have invested a great deal in her and have no intention of letting her fortune slip through my fingers.”
“Given the circumstances, you should thank me for ensuring your marriage tonight. We will see you in about half an hour?” Balfour said.
“Twenty minutes,” Adam said, and strode away.
Chapter Twenty
The clock struck eleven when Mr. Balfour walked through the door of the study. Another man accompanied him, a minister, Sophie realized, along with a woman she assumed was the housekeeper. Sophie didn’t fully understand what was happening, other than she was marrying Adam MacAlister this very night.
The minister smiled and greeted her as if being roused late at night to perform a wedding was the most natural thing in the world. He had a large book tucked beneath his arm. The registry, she would wager.
Mr. Balfour had barely made the introductions when Adam returned. Sophie had to admit she’d never been so glad to see anyone. He produced the marriage license, then took her hand and held it as the minister conducted the service.
Her head whirled and, despite the fact marrying Adam posthaste had been her plan, when the minister said the words “Do you, Sophie Shaw, take this man to be your husband?” they echoed in her head like a cannon boom.
When he finished, she had to force her reply. “I do.”
He faced Adam. “Do you, Adam Scott, take this woman to be your wife?”
Adam Scott? Sophie snapped her head up to meet Adam’s gaze.
He looked at her without expression. “I do.”
To Sophie’s shock, Adam produced a sapphire ring from his jacket pocket, then he repeated the vows after the minister and slipped the ring on her finger.
The minister then glanced around the room. “Will you who have witnessed these promises do all in your power to uphold these two persons in their marriage?”
Mr. Balfour and his housekeeper replied in unison, “We will.”
The minister said in a loud voice, “Those whom God has joined together let no man put asunder.”
“You must seal the pact with a kiss,” Mr. Balfour said.
Pact? Sophie fisted her hands. The man was a brute.
Adam pulled her close and his mouth descended on hers. Their lips touched and, unlike the other night in the garden, this kiss was gentle. She almost wondered if he was apologizing. He broke the embrace, and Mr. Balfour and Mrs. Childers signed the registry as witnesses. Sophie’s hand shook as she signed her name. A headache began to pound behind her eyes. All she wanted to do was return to her room, close the door, and sleep for a week. Adam stepped up and signed his name Adam Scott. She stared at his signature, and fear began a slow crawl through her belly.
Mr.
Balfour clapped him on the back. “How does it feel to be a married man, Monthemer?”
“Monthemer?” Sophie blurted.
“The title sounds strange at first, do you not agree, Lady Monthemer?” Mr. Balfour asked.
Sophie’s heart pounded. Monthemer? The room spun.
“I will call for champagne,” Mr. Balfour said.
Adam shook his head and slipped an arm around her waist. She started to break free, but his hold tightened.
“Nae,” Adam said. “I believe my bride and I should go. You understand.”
A strange light appeared in Mr. Balfour’s eyes. “Indeed, I do. Which is why I have made arrangements for you to stay here tonight.”
“Stay here, tonight?” Sophie glared up at Adam.
“Thank you, but there is no need for you to put yourself out,” Adam said. “Let me send her home, then you and I can conclude our business.”
Business? So, Adam, the Marquess of Monthemer, was involved in criminal activities.
Mr. Balfour shook his head. “This is your wedding night. You cannot send your bride home alone. I already have a room prepared for you.”
Anger tightened her insides. She wanted to punch Adam in the stomach as hard as she could. “Surely, you understand that I would rather be home,” she said through gritted teeth.
“It is late,” Mr. Balfour replied. “I really must insist.”
“Mr. Balfour, Sophie and I are married,” Adam said. “My wife is now under my protection. She will not do anything to fall out of grace with me.”
Fall out of grace with him?
He looked at her. “In fact, I believe I will send her to the country. She does not care for city life.”
Sophie stared.
“Is that true, my lady?” Mr. Balfour asked.
She wanted to scream that Adam knew nothing about what she cared for, but she nodded and said, “I do prefer a quiet life.”
“How very interesting,” he said. “Will you go right away?”
“Tomorrow, I imagine,” Adam said before she could reply. “I see no reason to delay.”
“Surely you will want to throw at least one party in celebration of your marriage?” Mr. Balfour asked.
“A party?” Sophie could barely believe the man.
He laughed. “I thought all women loved parties.”
“There is no need for a party,” she said stiffly.
How she wanted to break free of Adam’s iron grip around her waist.
Mr. Balfour gave a slow nod. “I must insist. A party here at my home two days hence. That will give your husband time to get the announcement of your marriage into the papers.”
“You want to have a party…here?” Sophie said. “That is too much.”
Mr. Balfour smiled. “Not at all. I feel certain your husband would do the same for me. Now, Phillip will show you to your room.”
Sophie looked at Adam. “Sir, really, I prefer to be home. After all, it is our wedding night.”
To her shock, he thinned his mouth in disapproval. “Mr. Balfour has been kind enough to prepare a room for us. It would be rude to refuse.” He released her and winged his arm, but she knew the gesture wasn’t a request.
Sophie slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, and they followed the large man named Phillip from the room. They climbed one flight of stairs and twisted through the hallways until they reached the room Phillip said was theirs. They entered the bedchambers to find two maids waiting in front of a four-poster canopy bed with dark gold silk curtains.
The maids curtsied. “My lady,” the dark-haired girl said. “Mr. Balfour instructed us to help you with your toilet.”
“I assume that door leads to a sitting room?” Adam angled his head toward a door to their left.
“Aye, sir,” the maid replied.” A fire burns in the hearth and there is French brandy waiting for you.”
His angled his head. “Then I will leave you ladies to your business.”
Sophie shot him a narrow-eyed glare as he passed, but he made no comment. When the door clicked shut behind him the maids started toward her.
***
Adam entered the sitting room to find a lad waiting beside the chair located before the hearth. As the maid had said, a decanter sat on the table beside the chair alongside a full brandy glass.
A gentleman’s robe lay across the back of the chair, and a basin, pitcher, and cloth sat on the table near the window. Balfour was taking no chances that the marriage might be declared invalid. He no doubt intended for everyone in the household to testify that Adam and Sophie had consummated the marriage.
“If you sit down, sir, I will remove your boots,” the lad said.
Adam gave a slight nod and sat in the chair. He sipped brandy while the boy removed his boots. When finished, the boy placed the boots outside the door, then returned and stood at attention before Adam.
“They will be cleaned and ready for you by tomorrow morning, sir. Along with your clothes.” He waited.
Adam shook his head. “That will not be necessary.”
“Oh, but it is, my lord. Mr. Balfour instructed me not to leave without your clothes.”
“I wager he did,” Adam muttered.
“I beg your pardon, my lord?”
“Never mind.” Adam finished the brandy, then stood.
He removed his clothes, then put on the robe the boy held out for him. Once he dismissed the lad, Adam resumed his seat before the fire and sipped brandy as he contemplated the situation. He wouldn’t be surprised if their clothes weren’t returned until well after lunch. Sophie would be livid. It would serve the wench right. He still couldn’t believe she had followed him here. The little fool. She was fortunate Balfour hadn’t just killed her.
Adam lost himself in thoughts of what gold Balfour had stolen.
A knock on the door connecting the bedchamber snapped Adam from his thoughts.
“Enter,” he called.
The door opened, and one of the young maids entered. “Your wife is ready to receive you, my lord.”
Receive him? He would wager she was ready to throw him off the tallest building she could find.
He stood and strode past the maid, and she followed him into the bedchamber. Sophie sat on a chair near the hearth, a sheet wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl. The maid hurried to the door, where the other maid stood, and they left him and Sophie alone.
“Were you divested of your clothes as I was?” she asked.
“I am as naked as the day I was born,” he said. “Beneath my robe, of course.”
She stood and faced him. Adam immediately understood the reason for wrapping herself in the sheet. The hem of her nightgown was so sheer he discerned supple calves beneath the thin fabric. A shame she was so modest. He wouldn’t have minded the view. His cock pulsed in agreement.
She met his gaze square. “So, tell me, Lord Monthemer, did you enjoy trapping me into marriage?”
He had planned on asking her a similar question, but her shock when Balfour had called him by his title had been genuine. She hadn’t known his identity. Still….
“Why did you pretend to be a maid?” he asked.
“Because I grew tired of men trying to trap me into marriage for my money.”
Adam blinked. Then he laughed. Hard.
“You think this is funny?” she demanded.
He nodded, still laughing. “Forgive me, but I do.”
She took two steps toward him then halted. “What is going on here with Mr. Balfour?”
He grasped her arm and pulled her to the bed. She balked, but he shot her a warning look, then scooped her up and tossed her onto the mattress. She started to crawl off the other side, but he seized her arm.
“Hold fast, Miss Shaw,” he whispered.
Adam pulled the curtains down around the bed until they were enclosed. In the gloom, he couldn’t see her features but discerned the tremble in the arm he still gripped.
He leaned close and she drew back. Adam grasped th
e back of her neck and brought his mouth to her ear then whispered, “We cannot be certain who might be listening.”
“No doubt, your criminal partner,” she hissed. “Rest assured that I will not stay married to a criminal. I will have this marriage annulled. I told my father you were not to be trusted. Little did I know how right I was.”
He said in a low voice, “Criminal or not, after tonight there will be no annulment.”
“We are not truly married until the marriage is consummated—which you may depend upon not happening.”
“Why do you think Balfour insisted we stay here tonight?” he asked.
“How would I know? The man is clearly mad.”
“You may be right on that score,” he said. “However, there is a method to his madness. He forced us to stay here in order to have witnesses that the marriage was, indeed, consummated.”
“That is ridiculous. With no one here to watch us, they cannot know.”
“Come, Miss Shaw, we are closeted alone in a bedroom without our clothes. No one will believe otherwise. That was his plan.”
She let out a very unladylike growl. “I will not stay here another instant with you.” She started to crawl off the bed.
Adam grabbed her arm and yanked her back.
“Forgive me,” he said. “You will stay, even if I have to sleep on top of you.”
She stilled.
“Sophie”—the devil possessed him, and he amended—“my lady”—which elicited another growl from her—“Balfour will think nothing of killing us both should he feel threatened.”
“You are saying that to frighten me,” she said, but he detected fear in her voice.
“Only because it is true,” he replied.
Thankfully, she acquiesced, but he insisted she sleep on the side of the bed farthest from the door. He slept not a wink, and by her tossing and turning, he knew she didn’t either.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sophie came awake with a heavy body on top of her. She snapped open her eyes and looked straight into Adam’s eyes. She drew a breath to scream.
He clamped a hand over her mouth, pressed his mouth to her ear, and whispered, “Someone is in our room.”