Secrets of a Runaway Bride

by Valerie Bowman

  Arthur reached out and grabbed her hand. “Lord Ashbourne said some things?” he echoed. “What sort of things?”

  “Oh, Arthur, does it matter?” She sighed.

  “Yes. It matters very much. I have a right to know what I’m being accused of, do I not?”

  A bit of hope unfurled in Annie’s chest. For the first time, ever, Arthur seemed a bit miffed—one might even say put out. Certainly it didn’t compare to Lord Ashbourne’s grand display of anger last night, but it was a start. It seemed Arthur did care, after all.

  Annie pushed up her chin and looked back at him. “Very well. He said I was making a fool of myself chasing after you. He said you didn’t appear to be particularly interested in me. He said the entire ton is talking about it.”

  Arthur dropped her hand and paced the floor in front of her chair. He ran his fingers through his hair. Ooh, Annie had never seen him with his hair disheveled. He was working his way into a high dudgeon now. Could it be that he really cared?

  “Lord Ashbourne said those things, did he?” Arthur said, continuing to pace.

  “Yes.” She nodded and said no more.

  “What else did Lord Ashbourne have to say?”

  “That was the gist of it, but I had to agree with him. I’ve spent my days of late chasing after you at parties where you barely pay attention to me and spend your time escorting your sister about.”

  His jaw dropped. “Why, I’ve been concerned for your reputation, Anne. My sister requires an escort, and I’m able to see you at the parties as well. It’s been a lovely arrangement.”

  “Lovely for you, perhaps. But what about the fact that I always seem to be seeking you out in the crowd? Last night I came to greet you when you could have easily done the same.”

  His mouth gaped like a fish. “My astonishment is beyond measure. I didn’t seek you out last evening for no reason other than the mere fact that I had not seen you. I was nothing but pleased when you came by.”

  Annie pushed up her nose in the air. Willing herself to keep her resolve. “Be that as it may, it’s still true that we appear to want different things. I want to marry, and you do not.”

  “Anne, don’t say such things. Of course I want to marry you.”

  Annie expelled her breath. It felt so good to hear those words, but she wasn’t finished yet. “Not so much that you’re willing to tell your father you do not want to wait.”

  “Father merely thought it best—”

  She raised her hand and looked away. “Please, Arthur, no more excuses. You have obviously been trifling with my affections, and I will not allow it any longer.”

  He grabbed up her hand again and squeezed it. “Anne, how can you say such a thing? I would never trifle with your affections.”

  She refused to look at him. “I’m afraid I cannot do this any longer.”

  He searched her face. “Do what, Anne?”

  “Wait for you. Besides, I could not wait any longer even if I wanted to. Lily will be back in a fortnight, and she intends to take me to Colton House in Surrey. I won’t be back until Christmas.”

  “We’ll be married at Christmas then. Don’t worry.”

  “No. Lily means to keep us from each other, I’m sure of it, and you’ve already seen what Lord Ashbourne has done. Your father has also made his feelings clear, and between the three of them, it seems the entire town is conspiring to keep us from being together.”

  Arthur had a faraway look in his eyes. He stood up and nodded. “You’re right. I’ve been such a fool. I will not allow anyone else to dictate our future ever again. We shall marry immediately.”

  Joy leaped in her chest. Annie stood and squeezed his shoulder. “Oh, Arthur. Do you mean it?”

  “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,” he replied with a determined look in his eye.

  Annie had to squelch her squeal of excitement. She’d never expected to be this successful. She should have been firm with Arthur months ago. “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that. Arthur, will you do something for me?”

  “Yes, of course, Anne, anything.”

  “Kiss me,” she breathed.

  Arthur hesitated only for a moment before leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. Annie squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the fireworks to explode inside her brain, her belly, lower. But there was … nothing.

  She pressed her lips to his more firmly. Perhaps they were not doing it correctly. Very well. If she were being honest, she would admit she preferred Lord Ashbourne’s style of grabbing her and pulling her into his arms instead of Arthur’s meek leaning motion, but her true love was kissing her and that was what was most important. The man, not the technique.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck just as she’d done with Lord Ashbourne and … nothing. No fireworks, no anything. His lips were cool and soft but that was all. They had none of the demand, none of the urgency, none of the need …

  And none of the tongue. Her cheeks flushed. Lord Ashbourne certainly knew what to do with his tongue.

  Arthur awkwardly pulled away, looking quite shaken.

  Annie shook her head, her brow furrowed. She stared incomprehensibly at the rug. What was wrong? Why hadn’t she felt the same things—more—that she’d felt when she kissed Jordan Holloway? It made no sense.

  She glanced at Arthur, who looked quite proud of himself. Oh, it was nothing. Nothing but the nerves and the trouble of all this sneaking around. Caused by Lord Ashbourne himself. Once she and Arthur were married, Annie had little doubt his kisses would make her knees positively weak.

  “Thank you, Arthur,” she murmured, because he seemed to require a reply.

  Arthur squared his shoulders. “I’ve made a decision, Anne. I don’t think becoming engaged is good enough. You’ve convinced me. There are too many people conspiring against us. Pack your things. We will go to Gretna Green. We will leave today.”

  CHAPTER 19

  “I will not ask again. Tell me where Miss Andrews is and tell me immediately.” Jordan’s voice boomed through the town house. Devon’s normally staid butler had managed to summon both Evans and Mary and now all three servants stood quaking in front of him in the foyer while he asked for the third time where their mistress had gone.

  Evans gulped and pulled at his neckcloth. “I told ye, milord. I haven’t seen Miss Annie today.”

  Jordan’s raking gaze settled on Mary.

  “Ye must believe me, Lord Ashbourne. I’m quite sure Miss Annie told me, but I cannot remember. It’s an affliction I’ve ’ad, ahem, had for quite some time. Ye can ask these gents.” Mary gestured to Evans and the butler with her thumb.

  “Aye, that I can vouch fer, milord,” Evans replied. “She can’t remember a thing wot happened five minutes ago.”

  Jordan turned his piercing gaze on the butler. “Nicholls, I’m counting on you to be the only sane member of this trio. Tell me where Miss Andrews is.”

  Nicholls bowed. “My lord, I assure you. I’ve already related all of which I am aware. Miss Andrews had a caller around ten o’clock this morning. It was Mr. Arthur Eggleston. He left his card.”

  Jordan had already seen the damned card. In fact, he’d crumpled it in his fist, wanting to crush it to dust.

  “Mr. Eggleston and Miss Andrews spoke in the blue salon until half eleven,” Nicholls continued. “Then he took his leave.”

  Jordan paced. “What did they speak about?”

  “That I don’t know, my lord. I was not asked to bring refreshments and I pride myself on never eavesdropping.” He gave Evans and Mary a stern look.

  “And I might well have been eavesdropping, milord,” Evans admitted with a wry smile, “had I known there was anything to hear, but I swear upon my honor I wasn’t even awake at ten o’clock.”

  “That I can vouch fer, me lord,” Mary interjected. “Saw ’im meself, upstairs dozing in a chair by the window round that time.”

  Oh, that she remembered?

  Jordan paced back and forth across t
he fine Indian carpet that adorned Devon’s foyer. “Annie did not order a coach?”

  Nicholls shook his head. “No, my lord.”

  “She did not leave a note?” Jordan continued.

  “No.” Mary shook her head.

  “She did not go on an errand with a friend?” Jordan ground out.

  “No. I went round to Miss Birmingham’s house meself and Miss Frances hadn’t seen nor heard from her all day,” Evans assured him.

  “Has Aunt Clarissa seen her?”

  “My lady has been … indisposed.” Nicholls cleared his throat. “Most of the day, sir.”

  Jordan raked a hand through his hair. It was nearly ten o’clock at night and apparently Annie had been missing all day. How had this happened?

  He’d wanted to discount Medford’s warning. Annie had seemed so sad and so repentant last night. But some niggling sense of doubt in the back of his mind had spurred Jordan to check on her tonight. The tears in her eyes and the look on her face had convinced him that she finally understood why she should not be chasing after Eggleston. But now, standing in front of the three unwitting servants, Jordan understood that Medford had been exactly right. Annie hadn’t been ready to give up at all. It had merely been the proverbial calm before the storm. She’d regrouped, ready to do her final damage. And all on Jordan’s watch again. Perfect.

  Jordan turned on his heel and reached to open the front door. Nicholls rushed to do it for him but got there too late. “Where are you going, my lord?” the butler asked in a strained voice.

  Jordan barely turned his head. “To visit Mr. Arthur Eggleston, and if he is not there, there will be hell to pay.”

  Jordan left, slamming the door behind him.

  * * *

  Jordan’s questioning of the Eggleston servants yielded much the same information. Mr. Arthur had left around ten that morning to pay a call and he hadn’t returned since.

  Minutes later, Jordan left the house with a growing sense of dread in his belly. Damn it. She’d done it again. Somehow convinced that idiot Eggleston to take off to Gretna Green. Jordan knew it. Just as surely as he knew he must follow them immediately.

  Less than half an hour later, he was back home packing a bag, tossing money in a pouch for the journey, and imagining what he’d do to the errant lovers when he caught up to them. How in the hell had that young woman managed to fool him? Again? And what was either one of them thinking? No doubt she would argue that Jordan had pushed her to this. He could hear the explanation now. But putting her life and reputation in danger again was serious. The last time the little fool had done this it had taken her sister and Devon’s marriage to deflect the scandal. God only knew what it would take this time.

  The good news was that no one seemed to know. The servants at both households knew the master and mistress were gone but didn’t appear to suspect they’d gone to Gretna Green together. The servants might be persuaded to remain silent.

  Jordan knew one thing for certain. He was through playing the beleaguered chaperone. As soon as he found Annie Andrews, he intended to make it clear that he was in charge. He’d tried it her way for nearly two weeks now. The next fortnight would be on his terms. And she wouldn’t like his terms one bit.

  Jordan hefted his bag to his shoulder. His valet, Cunningham, scurried into the room. “My lord. I didn’t know you’d returned. Do you require my assistance?”

  Jordan shook his head. “No. I’m just taking a few things for now. I’m going on a trip.”

  Cunningham nodded. “Is there anything else you require?”

  Another shake of the head. “I’ll stop by the kitchens before I leave to get some food for the journey.”

  “Will you be back soon, my lord?”

  Jordan stopped for a moment in the doorway. He turned to look at the valet. “I won’t be back for a fortnight.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Jordan shook his head and smiled wryly. They hadn’t even the sense to change their route. He’d caught up to them just where he thought they would be. Apparently, they’d assumed no one would know where they’d gone. The Gray Horse Inn. That’s where they’d stopped for the night the last time they’d taken off for Gretna Green. Jordan shook his head again. History had such a way of repeating itself. The runaway bride had struck again.

  A pleasant conversation with a smile and a nod to the young woman who worked there earned Jordan a description of the couple staying in the room upstairs.

  “Aye, guv’na. I remember ye and yer handsome friend from the last time ye all were ’ere in the spring.” She giggled.

  “Yes, well,” he replied. “This will be the last time. You may count on it.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry ta ’ear that. Very sorry indeed.” She waggled her eyebrows at him. “Do ya think ya might be persuaded ta ’ave a tumble before ya interrupt ’em upstairs? No doubt that’s wot they’re up ta themselves.”

  Jordan arched a brow. “As tempting as that offer is…”

  “Now don’t turn me down, guv. I didn’t get a chance ta ’ave fun wit yer ’andsome friend last time. That dark-haired lady wot was wit ’im didn’t seem like the type ta take kindly ta ’is going elsewhere for ’is jollies.”

  Jordan coughed into his hand, thinking of Lily and hiding his smile. “You’re perfectly right there, but I’m afraid I must still decline. I’ve come to retrieve another dark-haired lady and the sooner we’re gone, the better.”

  The girl winked at him. “Aye. I’ve ’alf a mind ta tell that gel she’s a nitwit wot wit taking off wit that bloke she’s got upstairs when she’s got ye and yer ’andsome friend chasing ’er about. Though come ta think o’ it, maybe that’s ’er game.” The girl laughed then, a high-pitched, cackling sound.

  Jordan winced. “I’ll just be going up to pay them a visit.”

  The inn girl waved good-bye and Jordan stalked toward the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time.

  Once he made it to the second story, Jordan stood outside the door to Annie and Eggleston’s room. He cracked his knuckles. That fool Eggleston was about to rue the decision he’d made. Twice. And Annie, that little baggage, was soon to regret the day her sister had left town.

  Jordan sucked in a deep breath and lifted his hand to knock. The last time they’d been here, Devon and Lily had found both of them fully dressed, and Arthur had been sleeping on a pallet on the floor. Devon had told Jordan as much.

  Jordan steeled himself. This time there was every possibility that he might find a very different situation indeed. Annie may well have decided to give herself to Eggleston, thinking it would ensure once and for all that they would be together. They’d be forced to marry—or so Annie might think—if Eggleston had truly compromised her. Jordan squeezed his fist poised in the air, cracking his knuckles again. If Annie had been mad enough to suggest it, Eggleston had best pray to the god of idiots that he’d had enough sense to refuse, to be a gentleman. Eggleston would leave here in a prostrate position if he’d so much as touched her.

  Jordan rapped twice on the door. Hard. Scurrying and mumbled voices ensued. They’d better not be getting dressed.

  After a few moments, Eggleston’s shaky voice sounded through the wood. “Lor … Lord Ashbourne?”

  “How did you know?” Jordan’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “I’ll open the door, Lord Ashbourne, but I want your promise, first, as a gentleman, not to strike me.”

  “No.”

  A squeak. “N … no?”

  That boy had best be sweating right now.

  “You heard me. Now open this door immediately or I’ll hit you harder than I’d planned. And what I see when it’s opened will determine exactly how badly you are hurt.”

  The door swung open and a cowering Eggleston stood there fully dressed. He covered his face with his hands while Jordan’s gaze swung into the room. A rumpled pallet lay on the floor, thank God.

  Annie stood next to the bed, also fully dressed, an angry, defiant look on her face. “I cannot believe yo
u’re here.”

  “I assure you, the feeling is entirely mutual.”

  “Do you do nothing more than follow me?”

  “Do you do nothing more than foolishly get yourself into bad situations? Not to mention, lie to me? Now get your things, we’re leaving.”

  Eggleston was hiding in the corner. Jordan ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Blast it, Eggleston, I’m not going to strike you, though God knows you deserve it. Lucky for you, I find it distasteful to strike a cowering man. But if you ever, and I mean ever, attempt to make this ill-advised journey again, I will see you at dawn. Do you understand me?”

  Eggleston attempted to straighten his shoulders and speak clearly. “Yes. Ye … yes, my lord.”

  “Good. And Lord Colton will happily be my second, I’ve no doubt.”

  “Don’t worry, my lord. Ev … everyone knows what a crack shot you are. I’ve no wish to be your opponent.”

  Annie turned to Eggleston. “Arthur. Tell him. Tell him you love me and you want to marry me. You said you’d not allow anyone else to dictate our future ever again. Remember? You cannot allow Lord Ashbourne to do this.”

  Jordan watched the younger man through narrowed eyes. “Do you have something to say?” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

  Arthur bravely raised his chin. “I do love Anne, my lord. And I want the best for her.”

  “And do you agree the best thing is not to run off to Gretna Green and ruin her reputation?”

  Arthur’s gaze moved quickly to Annie and then to the floor, his head bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

  Annie wrung her hands. “Arthur. No. We talked about this.”

  He glanced up at her. “I’m sorry, Anne. But Lord Ashbourne is right.”

  Jordan nodded. “Good. Now go summon your carriage and get back to London as quickly as possible. I don’t care if you tell people you’ve been sick or drunk or what, but I’d better never hear you mention Miss Andrews’s name. Ever. Do you understand?”

  “Perfectly, my lord.”

  “Good, now go.” Jordan jerked his head toward the door.