by Ava Stone
Cordie stared at the blank foolscap. What was she going to say? Some fabricated tale of romance and adventure. If she was going to lie… She might as well make it a good one. She might as well make it what she wished the truth was.
Dear Mother,
I am certain my disappearance has worried you, and for that I am sincerely sorry. My intent was never to cause you grief. I have no excuse for my rash actions except for my undying love for Lord Clayworth and my impatience to become his wife. When he suggested we set off for Gretna Green, I couldn’t possibly refuse. I do hope you will find it in your heart to forgive your impetuous daughter.
Please be happy for me. In Clayworth, I have found all I have ever wanted in a husband and am thrilled at the prospect of being his wife. He is warm, considerate, and he understands me. He loves me, encourages me to be myself, and promises me the freedom I have always craved. I am quite fortunate to have found such a paragon.
While we should have taken a more traditional route, received Gregory’s approval and waited for the banns to be read, we were simply too eager to delay any further. We are quite anxious to start our life together, and I’m certain you’ll wish us your every happiness. When we return to London, I will call on you upon my earliest convenience.
Your devoted daughter,
Cordelia
She put the letter aside, rereading it a half dozen times. As far as absolute fiction went, it wasn’t bad. She did wish, as she lingered on the words, that they were true. How different this excursion would be if that was the case.
Breakfast consisted of a meat pie, currants, and fresh tea. Not the most glamorous meal for a countess-to-be, but since she was starving, Cordie wasn’t about to complain. Flavor danced on her tongue and in no time, she had finished everything set before her.
She was fairly surprised that Clayworth hadn’t yet joined her. How long could it take to change horses? Not that she was in a hurry to see him. She needed to find a way to deal with him, to keep him from being too controlling. There had to be a way.
Then the solution to her problems popped in her head, and a genuine smile spread across her face. Lady Staveley enjoyed free reign. Certainly there was some way to achieve the same for herself. If asked, the viscountess would share her secrets, Cordie was certain. She took a relieved breath. It was still possible for her to have everything she ever wanted.
“You look happy,” Clayworth said from the doorway, looking every inch like Lord Adonis, if one discounted his dirty evening wear.
Cordie’s heart leapt in her chest. To have the freedom she desired and this man as a husband. Life couldn’t possibly be better. She beamed at him, rising from her seat. “Oh, I am.” Crossing the floor, she rose up on tiptoes and pressed an innocent kiss to his lips. He felt warm and heavenly.
Clayworth’s arms tightened around her waist, and his intense twilight eyes stared down at her. “What was that for?”
She playfully cocked her head to one side. “You are very suspicious, my lord. Isn’t a wife allowed to kiss her husband?”
***
Except that he wasn’t that yet, and she’d been fairly annoyed with him most of the morning. She was the most confounding woman he’d ever met. Hot then cold then back again. How long would this appealing Cordelia last? Pressed against him and heating his blood, Brendan wished it would be forever, but he knew better than that. “Indeed. But what has changed your outlook, my dear?”
She rested her hands on his chest, making his heart beat faster and his pants a bit tighter.
“I’m about to get everything I ever wanted. Why wouldn’t I be happy?”
“You’re about to marry me,” he reminded her. She hadn’t been happy about that prospect earlier. Something was going on in her pretty head. Some devious plot, he could tell. Did she have plans to run off and leave him here?
Cordelia’s smile widened. “Upon reflection, I think I’ll enjoy being a countess.”
“My countess?” he asked skeptically.
“Who else’s?” she asked, drawing light circles with her fingertips across his chest.
Dear God, he wanted her. She was going to undo him, unless… His eyes flew to the table. A reprieve. “Your letter is finished?”
Cordelia nodded.
“I’ll get it posted right now,” he released her from his arms.
She frowned at him. “Are you afraid of me, my lord?”
In more ways than she would ever know. “Of course not,” he lied, retrieving the letter in his hands. “Do you mind? We should make certain our stories are similar.”
Cordelia sat back at the table while he scanned the letter for Lady Avery. He tried to keep his eyes from bulging out of his head. Where had she come up with this drivel? “No one who knows me will believe any of this.” He rubbed his brow. “I promised you the freedom you crave?” Had she lost her mind?
She scowled at him. “Then we are at an impasse, my lord. No one who knows me would believe I would run off for less than that, and I’m not writing another letter.”
Dear God she was willful. What did she need freedom for anyway? He would take care of her the rest of her days. Give her everything she desired. Love her with his every breath. What was this drive for something else, something that was impossible?
“Here ya are, milord,” the portly innkeeper’s wife said from the doorway with his breakfast. “I’ll put ya down right there next to her ladyship.”
It didn’t matter. She could want the impossible, for all the good it would do her. After they were married, he’d set her straight. There was no point in arguing about it now. The tempting smell of meat pie made his stomach grumble, and he took the spot next to Cordelia.
As he took his first bite, he realized she was looking at him strangely. “What is it?” he asked after a swig of ale.
“You look exhausted,” she said. “It’s not really necessary to move at this breakneck pace, is it?”
Brendan narrowed his eyes on her. Did she have some plan to run off and leave him here? Something was going on in her mind. He shook his head. The faster they got to Scotland the better. The faster they said their vows, the faster he could bed her. Delaying wasn’t an option. “One doesn’t slowly elope, Cordelia.”
“At this pace, you’ll be falling asleep over the anvil.”
A smile tugged at his lips. He wouldn’t fall asleep over the anvil. After their vows were said, he’d scoop her off to the nearest hotel and make her his countess in the most meaningful of ways. “You don’t need to worry about that, ma minouche.”
“Why are you doing this, my lord? Why did you come to my rescue? Why are you so intent on marrying me?”
If he could alleviate her concerns, it wouldn’t hurt to tell her, would it? The letter to her mother, written in her own hand, professed her undying love for him. If only that were true, the words would be much easier for him to say. Brendan sat back in his chair and stared into her mesmerizing green eyes. She was a vision. His vision. Full of life, if a bit stubborn, but his all the same—or she would be in a day and a half. “Because I’m in love with you, and I couldn’t allow Haversham or anyone else to ever hurt you, Cordelia. I’m far from perfect, but I’ll be a good husband and see that you never want for anything.”
Her face lit up at his words, and she looked every inch the raving beauty who owned his heart. “You’re in love with me?”
“Deeply,” he admitted, with what he hoped was his most charming smile. “So, I’m afraid we’ll have to continue at this breakneck pace all the way to Scotland, because I can’t stand to wait any longer than is necessary to make you mine.” At least that part of her letter was true.
“Oh, my,” she said quietly as a pretty blush settled on her cheeks.
~ 24 ~
Outside the inn in Stamford, Clayworth resumed his spot on the coachman’s box and Wilson climbed inside the coach with Cordie. At first, the coachman eyed her warily, as if he expected her to scream again at any moment. That wasn’t particularly complim
entary. She didn’t go around screaming on a regular basis—just when she thought she’d been kidnapped. That was quite an acceptable reaction under the circumstances.
Somehow Clayworth had managed to find her a copy of Maria Edgeworth’s The Absentee to occupy her time. She and Livvie had both read the book two years ago when it was first published, without her mother’s knowledge, of course. Lady Avery had not found Ms. Edgeworth’s view of the ton to be flattering, therefore the book was off limits. The story was still fresh, and Cordie was grateful for the diversion from her musings. She could go mad trapped in this coach, wanting to see and talk to Clayworth, especially after his admission back at the inn.
They had stopped briefly for lunch, but Wilson was always present, and she had been unable to say another private word to the earl. Though what she would say was lost on her. She probably should have told him that she was just as in love with him, but the words hadn’t come at the inn. She’d simply been too stunned to say much of anything.
As the light slowly faded to darkness, Cordie put down her book and rested her head against the squabs. Clayworth was in love with her? It was almost impossible to believe. She hadn’t even allowed herself to hope for such good fortune. She really could have everything she ever wanted, especially if she could somehow gain his leniency. Lady Staveley’s advice would be priceless.
Besides, she didn’t want to worry about any of that at the moment, too swept up in the heady feeling that Clayworth was in love with her. It was amazing, as if she was floating in the clouds, despite the fact that they were racing to the Scottish border to keep her from ruin. Even so, niggling thoughts crept in every now and then. Did being in love mean something different to Clayworth than to herself? He must have felt that way about Marina at one point, but it hadn’t lasted. How was she to keep from going down that treacherous path? Was it even possible? Was it inevitable that they would wake up one day and just not love each other anymore?
The coach began to slow, and then it finally came to a stop. Loud, raucous sounds began to seep inside the carriage, then the door opened and Clayworth offered her his hand. “Welcome to Doncaster, my dear.”
Wilson sat up with a jolt, blinking his eyes into the darkness. “Doncaster, milord?”
“Do you mind changing the horses alone and grabbing a bite, Wilson? I’d rather not leave my lady unattended here.”
Cordie looked past Clayworth’s shoulder towards the coaching inn. Two barrel-chested fellows were singing at the top of their lungs, while others littered the yard, staring at the earl’s coach with covetous eyes. A stab of fear went through Cordie. This was not the sort of establishment she’d ever been before.
Clayworth must have read the look on her face because he tightened his grip on her hands. “You’re safe with me, Cordelia.”
“They look rather dangerous.”
He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a reassuring kiss to her fingers. “I had hoped to make it to Pontefract, but with the horses we got in Newark-on-Trent we were lucky to make it this far.”
Clayworth looked like a man possessed. His face was red from the wind and his eyes were bloodshot. Cordie hated to see him like this. The trip back from Scotland would not be at such a pace. “I’m sorry,” she offered lamely. “I’m so sorry to put you through this.”
A smiled spread across his face. “It’s a small price to pay, when you’re the prize at the end, ma minouche.”
He led her into the establishment and quietly ordered a private room and dinner. Though they were quickly attended to and the roar of the noise was drowned out some by closing the doors, Cordie still felt ill at ease. They quickly ate a bit of stringy mutton, some carrots, and over-cooked broccoli before heading back out to the carriage. “I promise,” Clayworth told her, “our next meal will be better.”
Cordie smiled at him, relieved they were departing Doncaster. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, my lord. Who knows what is in store for us tomorrow.”
Wilson was already waiting for them atop the coachman’s box with four fresh horses ready to carry them through the Pennies. Clayworth helped Cordie into the dark carriage and then followed her inside. Before she could sit back onto her bench, the earl scooped her up and settled her on his lap, cradled in his arms. “I know exactly what is in store for us tomorrow, my love.”
Cordie sucked in a breath and stared at him, though he was hard to see in the dark. She shook her head. “You can’t rest with me on your lap.”
His lips touched her neck and Cordie swallowed, as tingles raced across her skin. Liquid fire pooled deep in her belly and she clutched his arm that lay across her middle. He was powerful and intoxicating, and she struggled to catch her breath. Still it wasn’t enough. She wanted him to touch her everywhere, to never stop.
But he did.
Clayworth sighed deeply and raised his head. Though she could feel his eyes on her, she couldn’t see him in the dark. “You are almost impossible to resist.”
“Then don’t,” she whispered. They’d be married in a day or so, anyway.
“Not like this,” he answered. Clayworth kissed her hair and Cordie rested her head on his chest. “Why did you think I was wrong for you?”
Though she was startled by his question, the soothing tone in his voice put her at ease. There wasn’t a place for secrets between them. Life was going to be difficult as it was. It would be best to get a fresh start. “Your marriage to Marina was not a happy one,” she began.
“No, it wasn’t,” he replied evenly. “How did you know?”
That was a bit embarrassing, but she had started down this path. “I—um—well, when I was younger, I would eavesdrop on conversations between my sister and Marina.”
“You were an unrepentant hellion even then, ma minouche?” he asked with a touch of mirth in his voice.
“I hardly find the situation amusing, my lord. Marina complained for years about your cool indifference. You weren’t even there when she died along with your child. That is not the sort of future I want.” His body tightened against hers and Cordie winced. She’d probably said too much. Would she never learn to keep her mouth closed?
“You’re right. I should have been there,” he acknowledged. “But I hadn’t laid eyes on Marina in well over a year. The child, as you can deduce from that, wasn’t mine and I wasn’t at all anxious to see her.”
The revelation was shocking. Cordie was glad it was dark in the coach, so he couldn’t see her stunned expression. Marina had been unfaithful? She would never have imagined that to be the case. She’d never even hinted at anything like that to Eleanor. Then again, Marina might not have necessarily wanted to discuss her own sins so freely either. Still, she was astonished. What else was she wrong about? “I—I didn’t know,” she said feebly.
“But it won’t be like that with us,” he told her softly, tightening his embrace.
“How can you be so certain?” Something had obviously gone wrong in his first marriage. How could he know they weren’t fated for the same end?
“You’re the only woman I have ever loved, Cordelia. Our future lies on a different path.”
Cordie stared at him, wishing for a little light. She couldn’t see his eyes, and could only make out darker shadows on his face. “You never loved Marina?” How was that possible? She was perfect, or at least Cordie had thought she was. She still couldn’t get over the fact that Marina had cuckolded Clayworth. It was unfathomable.
“I don’t like to speak ill of the departed.”
“Please, my lord. I need to know how things were.”
He sighed, and his hand stroked her neck, until Cordie relaxed against him again. “We didn’t suit. Not from the very beginning, and I’m afraid the situation between us never improved.”
“What happened in the beginning?” She needed to know what sorts of things to avoid.
Clayworth took several breaths, and Cordie thought he wouldn’t answer her at all. He was tired. Perhaps she shouldn’t push him—
“One night I got distracted, which is easy to do when you’re conversing with Astwick. Of course he was simply Lord Chester Peyton at the time. Anyway, I was remiss in my duties, and I couldn’t find Flora.”
Cordie could actually hear him wince with the admission. Had she made Russell and Tristan feel the same? Guilt slowly seeped over.
“Marina came from nowhere and said she knew where my sister was. Fool that I was, I believed her. As soon as we were in the corridor, she screamed at the top of her lungs and threw herself at me. The ballroom emptied to find her shaking, in my arms. Later she said she’d seen a mouse and had been frightened. I was foolish enough to believe that too, at the time, and felt horrible for compromising her in such a public way, unintentional as it was. We were married by special license two days later.”
That was how they’d married? “I had no idea.”
“It wasn’t how I’d hoped my life would go, but I thought to make the best of it. The problem was, we didn’t suit. We saw the world differently, and some things can’t be overlooked or ignored.”
“What things?” she asked before she could stop herself. She’d already intruded enough.
“Family, for one. Marina was an only child, and could never understand my devotion to my sisters.”
“I could do with a few less brothers,” she said, hoping to lighten the mood.
“No, you couldn’t,” he said with certainty. “As repressive as you find them, I’ve seen the love in your eyes when you talk to your brothers.”