"A guest?"
"Aye. The advocate is waiting in the library."
"Advocate? What's an advocate?"
"Solicitor. Attorney. It's Mr. Franklin. He's my damned lawyer, and he's here with the damned papers for us to sign."
Lawyer. Papers. The annulment.
Was this the reason for Nick's foul mood? If so, why? He was the one pursuing the darned thing. She was the one who should be upset, and maybe she was.
She'd be hanged if she'd let him see it, however. Sarah lifted her chin and gave her head a proud toss. "In that case, after you, Lord Weston. Let's not keep the gentleman waiting."
* * *
Nick sat behind a huge, carved mahogany desk and watched his wife pace the width of the room, back and forth, studiously ignoring the set of papers ready for her signature and his. Opposite Nick, his solicitor twisted in his leather seat to keep an eye on the action taking place behind him. Bright man, Nick's solicitor. He had reason to be cautious. Nick put the odds at fifty-fifty that Sarah would surrender to her obvious desire to fling a few leather-bound tomes at Mr. Franklin.
Unaccountably, Sarah's bad temper had served to improve his own.
This was the younger Mr. Franklin. His father had suffered a seizure six weeks ago and had turned all legal work over to his son and younger partner. Concerned about doing a good job for his richest and most powerful client, Franklin Jr. had reviewed Nick's records with a keen eye and discovered three different instances in which he disagreed with his father's legal position.
One of those was the subject of Lord Weston's marriage.
Sarah stalked to the empty chair beside the solicitor and took a seat. Her gaze settled on the desk's brass paperweight, then shifted to Nick, then returned to the brass bust of Aristotle. Also a cautious man, Nick moved it beyond her reach.
She folded her hands in her lap, then turned to Mr. Franklin and spoke in a calm, level voice that belied the temper snapping in her eyes. "What do you mean my word is not enough?"
The solicitor had the grace to look embarrassed. He cleared his throat and said, "You must understand, Lady Weston, that the dissolution of a marriage is taken quite seriously in Great Britain. Much more seriously than in America. Proof must be presented."
She glared at Franklin for a long, long minute. Nick winced. If his wife were a witch, the poor advocate would now be a pile of ashes.
Then she smiled, which was truly frightening. "Very well, we will get the annulment in America."
Mr. Franklin removed his handkerchief from his pocket and patted his damp brow. "But that dissolution wouldn't be recognized in Britain. Were he to remarry, Lord Weston would be guilty of bigamy."
Now she fired a glare his way. Nick shrugged and defended himself "I want children, and I will not father bastards. My children will not be forced to deal with that sort of insecurity."
She rose to her feet and resumed her pacing. Nick gave himself the pleasure of watching the graceful swing of her hips. His wife was one ripe, bonny lass.
She whirled to face him, caught him lusting, and bared her teeth at him. Nick choked back a startled laugh. Sarah folded her arms. "In light of your background, Nick," she said, "I understand your viewpoint about this. However, I don't appreciate the position your British citizenship has put me in."
In that case, chances are she won't care at all for the position I want to have her in.
The solicitor's complexion went a bit pasty as he continued, "Also, Lady Weston, you must be aware that should the physical examination prove... um..."
Nick whistled in a breath and braced for violence as she approached Franklin's chair, her hands on her hips, fury in her eyes. A red flush stained Franklin's cheeks, and he cleared his throat. "Should the condition of virgo intacta be proven, it is still possible the court might refuse you an annulment."
Nick's elbow slipped off his armrest. Sarah froze where she stood. "What!" they exclaimed simultaneously.
Mr. Franklin nodded. "It's true."
"That's ridiculous," Sarah shouted.
Nick dragged his hand along his jaw. "I don't understand. Nonconsummation is legal grounds for annulment, is it not?"
"It is, but I'm afraid your situation is not that simple."
"Certainly it is."
"I'm sorry, Lady Weston, but the extenuating circumstances in your particular case move your case into the gray area of the law, and thus the courts."
"What extenuating circumstances?" Nick asked, his mind racing to consider the possibilities this new information presented.
Mr. Franklin opened his file and reviewed a sheet of paper therein. "According to what you told my father, Lord Weston, you and Lady Weston exchanged vows, then spent your wedding night together."
Sarah shook a finger at the lawyer. "But not together in a literal sense."
"Um, yes, so I understand." By now Franklin was as crimson as the queen's coronation robes. "However, during the intervening years you portrayed yourself as wife and publicly used his title. In researching this case, I uncovered instances where the courts refused an annulment for less reason than that."
Nicholas swiveled his desk chair to one side, picked up a pencil, and began to tap it repeatedly on the desktop beside the legal documents. Mr. Franklin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and then continued, "Take the case of Hopkins versus Ralston. The bride and groom were forced into marriage by their families when they were little more than children, twelve and thirteen, I believe. Following the wedding, the bride and groom shared the same home, though never a bed. Settlements were spent. She identified herself as his wife and vice versa. The court agreed."
Sarah shook her head at the story. "I repeat, that's ridiculous."
"I must agree with you on that one," said Nick, switching to a double-tap rhythm of the pencil.
Sarah reached over the desk and yanked the pencil from his hand. As Nick's brows winged up, she snapped, "You don't appear nearly as concerned about this as you should be."
Turning her angry attention back to Mr. Franklin, she added, "Or maybe Lord Weston appears unconcerned because he realizes you are overstating your case, sir. Aren't you being rather pessimistic? Isn't it possible, and in fact probable, that Lord Weston would be quietly granted an annulment based on our sworn statements?"
Franklin shook his head. "No, Lady Weston. I can give you no guarantee of that, especially in light of the recent mood of the court. May I speak frankly, Lady Weston?"
Sarah nodded.
"If you wish your marriage annulled, you must prove your virginity through a physical examination. Then, unless Lord Weston is prepared to swear to a condition of impotence—"
"That will not happen," Nick quickly interjected, sitting up straight.
Sarah glanced at him and absently agreed. "No one would believe it, anyway."
Nick squared his shoulders, preening a bit at that.
Franklin continued. "You must prepare yourselves for a thorough and public inquiry into your lives, beginning with the events of your wedding night and through the very day you testify in court. You arrived here at Glencoltran Castle within the last few days, correct?"
"Yes."
"Did you sleep alone?"
Her spine snapped straight, "Of course I did!"
"But under the same roof as your husband."
"It's a fairly large roof Mr. Franklin," Nick drawled.
"That is not the point. Depending on what view the court takes, one night beneath the same roof might well be enough."
Mouth agape, Sarah shook her head. "Now that's truly ridiculous. We are well chaperoned. His sisters are in residence."
"Unless they shared your room, it may not matter."
She glared at Nick. "You knew about this?"
He glanced down to make sure his clothes weren't blazing. "Honestly, no. It never occurred to me that our staying in this rambling old fortress could complicate the issue. It does seem rather nonsensical."
That observation offended the solicitor. "
Such rules are necessary when people refuse to obey the law."
"It's a stupid law," Sarah grumbled.
His tone defensive, Mr. Franklin said, "I beg to differ, Lady Weston. Despite the reform of marriage laws in Britain during the past thirty years, both law and society continue to hold the view that marriage should be preserved at all costs."
Sarah looked to Nick, a plea in her eyes.
"There must be another way to do this." She looked toward her husband for assistance. "Another option."
His tone helpful, Mr. Franklin said, "You could divorce."
"No," Nick said flatly, coldly. "Sarah, if you wish to proceed with that particular solution, I will not cooperate. I believe my family's reputation can weather an annulment, but I will not subject my sisters to the inevitable scandal caused by divorce."
She winced. "I don't relish a scandal any more than you, Nick, but neither will I be dictated to. Why would I need your cooperation? I can hire a lawyer of my own."
"Hire anyone you wish. He won't find grounds." Nick pushed to his feet, placed his hands on his desk, and leaned forward. "I will not admit to adultery, nor will you find anyone who will testify to such. Divorce is not an option for you, Sarah. Accept it."
She stood up, placed her hands on the desk, and leaned toward him until they stood nose to nose. "One of Lady Pewter's servants might be persuaded to testify."
"Lady Steele!"
At the mention of Helen's name, Mr. Franklin groaned softly. Nick would have cursed his sisters' big mouths, but he was too busy debating whether or not to close the distance and kiss his wife. He finally decided against it, since he was fairly certain she'd bite him given half a chance. "Any testimony by Lady Steele's servants would only support my cause."
Sarah's eyes narrowed. "Then I'll find someone else who will testify against you."
"No, you won't."
Taut silence stretched between them. Nick's gaze dropped to her lips and when she snarled at him again, lust's jagged teeth sank into him and grabbed hold. A little nip now and then could be rather pleasant. "Mr. Franklin, would you excuse us for a moment? I'd like to speak with my wife in private."
Nick never looked away from Sarah as the advocate hurried to exit the room. When the door thudded shut behind him, she started and skidded away from the desk. Nick stalked her like prey and moments later had her backed against the bookshelves.
Like most wild things, when finding herself trapped Sarah came out fighting. "I know about England's divorce law. I can charge you with adultery and desertion and win."
"No, lass. You do not want to take it in that direction."
"Are you trying to claim you've not taken a woman to your bed in ten years? I wouldn't behave that even if you talked of conversion and wore a Catholic priest's collar."
Nick's voice deepened. "All I claim is a hunger for you that has never gone away."
When her eyes widened, he softened his tone. "It's always been there, Sarah, no matter where I was or who I was with. I wanted you the first time I saw you, standing in that empty meeting room eating your peach. I wanted you the night we wed when youth and inexperience worked against us. I ached for you the morning you stood in the train depot and handed me my freedom when all I wanted was for you to take my hand and join me. I bought a ticket for you. I honestly thought you'd change your mind and come with me."
She closed her eyes, swayed on her feet. She spoke softly, sadly. "I almost went with you. Oh, Nick, I almost did. I loved you so much I was almost ready to run after you. But when I saw you board the train with her..."
"You did not trust me." He drew his finger across the silk of her cheek and smiled sadly. "I held it against you, you understand, and took the freedom you offered me. But only to a point and not as often as you probably think. Because you haunted me, lass. On a Tibetan mountain slope and in a sultan's palace. In an English ballroom. Especially in an English ballroom. Do you have any clue of how perfectly you would fit amongst the glitter and glamour of that place?"
He moved even closer, and her fresh, familiar fragrance stirred his soul. "I've dreamed of having my turn with you, Sarah lass. I was cheated of it. We were cheated of it."
"No, we chose, Nick. I chose by staying. You chose by leaving."
She was right, and the fact of it combined with the ache in his loins annoyed him. "Aren't you the least bit curious about what I've learned during the time we've been apart?"
"It's not my business. You spoke the truth when you said I gave you your freedom, just as you gave me mine."
That last comment gave him pause. Nick's annoyance deepened into irritation as the picture of her rolling in a haystack with some quick-draw cowboy flashed through his mind. His voice cooled. "Have I misinterpreted the situation? Did you refuse a physical examination because you have—shall we say... taken advantage of your freedom?"
Fire flashed in her eyes, born of anger and annoyance and... hurt? She placed her palms against his chest, pushed hard, then ducked beneath his arms and slipped away. She crossed the room to the desk, then turned to face him. "No, Lord Weston, that's not the reason. The reason is I don't want to be poked at. Not by a physician. Not by a blasted lawyer. And certainly not by you. My word—our word—should be enough, and I'll tell that to any and every officer of the court. However, if in the end, that's what it takes to end this farce of a marriage, I'll do it. You were right. It's time for dreams to die and for us to move on with our lives. The sooner the better."
She grabbed up the pen, then with a flourish, signed her name on the annulment petition. "Your turn."
Nick didn't move. He stood staring at the desk and the papers lying atop it as she spoke of locating the lawyer before fleeing the room. He was still standing and staring a good five minutes later when Mr. Franklin returned.
"Lady Weston said you wished to see me, my lord. She said you have reached an agreement and are ready to proceed with the annulment petition."
Nick sucked a breath of air past his teeth. Stubborn wench. Damnation. She's signed the papers. Stubborn, obstinate, hardheaded wench.
Standing at the desk, Franklin cleared his throat "If you will be so kind as to add your signature to Lady Weston's, I shall set this matter in motion at once."
Slowly, Nick approached the desk. He reached for the pen. It felt cold in his grip. His gaze lit on Sarah's signature. Bold, he thought, like the woman—except for that particular time when she'd been the very definition of timid.
He found the appropriate line on the document for his own signature, set his teeth, and grimly signed his name.
"Very good, my lord," said Franklin. "I shall depart for London in the morning and file it immediately upon my return. A caution, however, one I perhaps should have mentioned in Lady Weston's presence. You should not expect a swift resolution in this matter. Because of the unusual nature of your circumstances, I fear the legal process will be a protracted one."
"Protracted?"
"Yes, it might very well take months. Lady Weston will need to remain in Britain because the court will no doubt wish to hear her testimony. Also, once the decree is issued, I'll have more documents requiring her signature."
"Months." With that, Nick's thoughts began to race. Months. She'd be with him for months.
He'd never be able to keep his hands off her for months.
He heard the echo of her voice in his mind. I loved you so much. I almost went with you. It's time for dreams to die.
Or, Nick thought, time for dreams to be reborn.
She'd almost come with him. She'd almost left her life in Texas once. She'd loved him once. Could she feel that way again?
Did he want her to feel that way again?
Aye, he did. He couldn't lie to himself. Hadn't this been in the back of his mind all along? Wasn't this the reason why he'd sent for her, forced her to come to him? He could settle for Helen or a woman like her, but he didn't want Helen. Not the way he wanted his wife. Sarah of the sunshine hair and saucy smile. Sarah of the lett
ers that had warmed his heart on a snowy mountainside. This was why he'd brought her to Britain, even if he hadn't realized it at the time. He'd wanted one more chance with her before settling for someone else.
He still had feelings for her. Not love, he couldn't say that. It was more a sense of unfinished business, of missed opportunities. Missed possibilities. He'd been eighteen years old, lonely and looking for his place in the world when he married her. If he'd loved her the way a man should love his wife, he never would have left her. Although, he had since wondered if their disaster of a wedding night hadn't made his strings easier for his father to pull.
He did know he honestly liked the woman whose letters had followed him halfway around the world. She was warm and witty, caring, intelligent. Spirited. Intriguing. God knows she was desirable.
Nick had a gut feeling about her that was more than simply sexual. His years as an agent had taught him to trust his instincts, and right now those instincts were screaming at him.
He could love this woman. He could love Sarah the way his foster father had loved his foster mother. The way a man should love his wife. And Sarah, this grown-up version of the bright-eyed girl he had married, could love him back. Truly and deeply and forever.
Now it appeared that forever depended on the next few months. Thanks to a protracted legal process, he had time to win her heart. Time to win her trust.
Wasn't it handy that the wheels of justice turned slowly?
Nick handed the document to the solicitor and looked him straight in the eyes. "Time is not a problem. Just the opposite. Return to London at your leisure, Franklin, and do not rush to do the paperwork once you get there. You have my permission—no, my instruction—to put this task at the very bottom of your list."
The solicitor frowned. "I'm confused. I was under the impression you wished this matter concluded as soon as possible. Was I mistaken?"
"No, I was." With his mind on his lady rather than on minding his tongue, he spoke frankly. "As I mentioned earlier, impotence is not a problem. I've wanted that woman for a third of my life. Thinking about her kept me warm when I was trapped on a mountain pass in the middle of a Himalayan winter. Proceed with all possible delay, sir. I've decided I don't want an annulment."
The Bad Luck Wedding Night, Bad Luck Wedding series #5 (Bad Luck Abroad trilogy) Page 12