The Bad Luck Bride

by Janna MacGregor

  She asked the head footman to call for her carriage. Fortunately, it waited out front. As the Langham footman assisted her up the steps, Claire whispered in his ear, “Once we’re off the grounds, I need to return to Langham Hall as quickly as physically possible.” Soon the carriage rumbled out of Lord Dalton’s drive. When the estate was out of sight, the driver gave the signal. The carriage whipped forward.

  She prayed they’d be in time to stop whatever was happening between Lord Paul and Emma. As soon as she was able, Claire exited the carriage on her own and opened the front door. “Pitts!”

  “What may I do for you, Lady Pembrooke?” After years of service, the butler had become a master at deciphering emotions. He handed her coat to the under-footman and gave her his full attention.

  “Come with me.” Claire led him to the blue drawing room, where they would have privacy. “Have you seen Lady Emma?”

  “No, my lady. You are the only one home.” He handed her a sealed note. “This was just delivered for you.”

  Claire’s heart beat in a wild dance that kept pace with her erratic pulse. In the same elegant writing she’d become familiar with at Lady Anthony’s ball, the message was from Lord Paul.

  My dearest Claire,

  Your cousin has decided it’s urgent she meet me at the Black Falstaff Inn tonight. She sent a note earlier for me to meet her here. In my humble opinion, it would be beneficial for all of our sakes if you came posthaste. I’ll have a private room reserved.

  L.P.B.

  Inside, ice-cold dread wrapped around her chest and made it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. Emma had willingly gone to meet Lord Paul. She was ruined.

  Charles entered the room and joined them. “My lady, is there something I can help you with?”

  “Lady Emma is missing.” Her steady voice commanded everyone to pay attention. At this juncture, Claire couldn’t wait for the rest of the family. “Charles, saddle Hermes for me and prepare a carriage. Make certain it’s one without the ducal seal on the doors. You’ll follow me in the carriage to the Black Falstaff. Keep our destination quiet to the rest of the staff.”

  “Yes, my lady.” The groomsman nodded and left.

  “I’ll change. Pitts, send word to the duke and duchess and have someone search for McCalpin and Lord William.”

  “Of course, Lady Pembrooke.” Pitts left to carry out the instructions, and she rushed to her room. With Aileen’s help, she made quick work of changing into her riding habit. With the threat of a possible storm, she couldn’t ride in a carriage.

  Scenarios that only spelled disaster for Emma crowded her mind. If anyone saw Emma traveling by herself or on the road to the Black Falstaff, she’d face ridicule of a magnitude that would rival Claire’s curse. Without further thought, Claire returned to the blue drawing room, where Pitts and Charles waited.

  Claire’s riot of emotions quieted, but she twisted her fingers together to quell the shaking of her hands. “It’s time to leave.”

  Why did Emma go to Lord Paul? What did he want with her?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Claire rode next to Charles as he drove the carriage on the dark road. The coaching inn was located no more than three miles outside London. After riding for almost a half hour, they were close to their destination.

  Overhead the stars had disappeared, replaced by nothing but blackness. The moon held its grip on the night sky in the east. Brief flashes of lightning lit the west. The wind increased its velocity, as if trying to outrun the incoming storm. She called forth every bit of courage she could scrape together to face what they’d find at the inn. Deep down, that all-too-familiar terror tried to push her determination out of its way as it swelled in waves. She tightened her hold on Hermes’s reins. She had to find Emma.

  They approached a small bridge over a creek, the water’s swift flow violent. Claire slowed the horse and gasped at the sight before her. A narrow suspension bridge swung in a choppy motion as the wind intensified. It was barely wide enough to accommodate two horses, let alone a full-sized carriage.

  She had no control over her body’s trembling. She bent low over Hermes to escape the assault of leaves and debris that swirled through the air. It took all her willpower not to turn and ride away. The fear on her face must have been visible. Charles stood by her side and grabbed the reins.

  He raised his voice over the wind’s shrieks. “My lady, shall I take the horse over and come back for you?”

  “No. Go back to the last bridge and cross over. It’ll accommodate the coach. I’ll make my way across this bridge.” The wind threw the hood of her cloak over her head.

  “Take this.” Charles gave her one of the carriage lanterns. He climbed into the driver’s seat. With one command to the horses, he circled the coach to face the opposite direction, then stopped. “Are you certain, my lady?”

  “Yes, go. I’ll meet you at the inn.” She didn’t watch him drive away. Otherwise she might never find the fortitude to face the bridge. A shiver rolled down her back and caused her leg muscles to tighten. The horse must have taken her reaction as a command. In seconds she was in front of the bridge.

  With a deep breath, she dismounted while holding the lantern in her left hand. With her other hand, she brought the reins over Hermes’s head. There was little doubt she would not be able to ride across. It would be an impossible feat for her to stay seated in the saddle.

  The distance to the other side was probably no more than a hundred feet. Whether it was ten feet or ten miles, she’d rather face the fires of hell. That wasn’t an option, as Emma was on the other side.

  The winds had died down, giving her a reprieve to cross. With a silent prayer, she took the first step and pulled the reins behind her. The wooden planks beneath her feet were solid. That one step gave her enough confidence to coax the horse to follow.

  The rushing water below roared with an intensity that swallowed all other sounds of the night. Her breath grew shallow, and her heart pounded for her to retreat. She held the light in front of her and concentrated on each step without looking into the water. Her horse showed no sign of fear and followed at her pace. Flashes of the night she and her parents crossed the river at Wrenwood tried to break her concentration. She refused to succumb to the nightmare and continued her trek across.

  With only twenty feet to go, she walked faster. With no warning, vicious winds assaulted her, and her hood blew over her face, momentarily blinding her. The bridge creaked as the wind propelled it into a bobbing motion. With her right hand, she grasped the rope that served as a handrail. The reins followed her movement. Her grasp tightened until her hand throbbed from the pain. She stilled and drew great gasps of air. A trickle of sweat found its way down her chest.

  The horse nudged her back, and she took a tentative step. She swallowed some of the fear and forced her way across while she kept a firm hold on the rail. Once on land, she leaned into Hermes and stroked his neck. The sign of affection and words of praise helped her find her own succor—they had made it.

  After a few minutes, her hands had stopped shaking and her heartbeat had calmed. Without help or a mounting block, she searched for a way to climb into the saddle.

  “Claire!”

  The shout came from behind. She held the lantern to her side and looked back at the bridge. Alex held his own lantern and stood in the middle, pulling Ares’s reins behind him.

  “Claire, wait for me.” The short cape of his greatcoat whipped against his shoulders as the force of the wind surged. The next instant his horse reared as the bridge swung wide. Alex fell and rolled off the edge. A frightened Ares shot forward and galloped past her.

  Tremors rolled through her body as Alex labored to haul himself back onto the bridge. He held on to the rope with one hand and grasped a wooden plank with the other. She tried to scream his name, but the sound lodged in her throat. The bridge swung, then snapped back into place as if trying to throw him into the creek. Alex pulled half of his body onto the bridge.

&
nbsp; Claire fell to her knees and curled into the littlest space possible. Nearby, a tree limb broke free in a booming crack. She forced herself into a sitting position and pushed aside the numbness. This time, she’d not lose her loved one. Whatever the sacrifices, she had to save Alex.

  The onslaught of the wind continued. Without thought to the consequences, she ran toward him, then stopped on the edge of the bridge as if held by a force against her will. Every inch of her trembled, but she couldn’t let her fear overpower her. She thought of nothing else but taking slow, even steps until she reached his side. She didn’t let loose her hold on the bridge railing. After what seemed like hours, she came within two feet of Alex. Claire broke free of the invisible hold on her body and set the lantern down. The flame flickered as it clashed with the savage winds.

  Pure instinct took over. She got to her knees and grabbed him by the arms. With every muscle in her body, she pulled while he held on to the rope and the plank. What little strength she provided was enough. He levered the rest of his body up.

  They both rested for a moment, then Alex helped her to stand. “I owe you my thanks.” He inhaled with a deep breath, then released it. “That’s not something I want to try again in the near future.”

  “I—I thought I was going to lose you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. His greatcoat whipped around them both.

  “I’ll not go that easy.” The deep rumble of his laughter vibrated within his chest.

  His ease made her relax somewhat, but she didn’t loosen her hold around his neck.

  “My lady, you give me cause to hope.” He cupped her face with his hands and brushed his thumbs over her cheeks. “I’m a lucky man if you’re worried about me.”

  “I would have done anything to…” Claire didn’t finish but turned toward the darkness ahead. With Alex behind her, the lantern’s light made it difficult to see much of anything. “How far is it?”

  Alex placed his hand around her waist and pulled her close. “Not more than fifty or so feet. You hold the lantern, and I’ll keep us steady by holding the rope.”

  Her heart pounded, and she closed her eyes. She willed her feet to go forward, but instead she turned in his arms. “He told me not to move.”

  The wind blew between them. He turned them in a direction that blocked the gusts from assaulting her. “Who?”

  “My father.”

  Her throat tightened. She’d never imagined she’d confess what happened that night. Not now, not on this bridge. Her body jerked, but it made little difference. She’d almost lost Alex tonight. There were so many things she wanted to say. She’d become a master of keeping that night buried. Once she started, the whole story would tumble out.

  “The river was black. Everything surrounding me was black. I couldn’t see anything. My lungs burned with the putrid water I swallowed. I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t break free. Somehow, he found me and grasped my hand. He brought me to the surface and swam to the riverbank.”

  Alex pulled her tight against him as if he’d never let her go. His hand cradled her head close to his. This near to him, the wind gusts were incapable of stealing her voice.

  “The last words he said to me were, ‘Claire, stay here. Promise me you won’t move.’ He shook my arms gently and forced me to look into his eyes. All I could see was his worry and raw fear. ‘Promise me,’ he demanded.”

  Alex smoothed her hair, and each stroke of his hands encouraged her to continue.

  “I nodded once … twice … I can’t remember how many times. Then he dove in the black water. I waited all night.” She shook until her teeth chattered. “I didn’t move from the spot as I watched the river. Nightfall came, but the rain wouldn’t let up. Everything was black except when lightning ripped across the sky.”

  Alex kissed her cheek. He squeezed her as if giving reassurance she’d be all right.

  Claire swallowed, determined to finish. She wouldn’t keep secrets any longer. “I waited while the rushing water crept closer. I’d lost my shoes, and the water covered my bare feet.” She pulled back so she could watch the expression on his face. “My feet were so cold I couldn’t feel my toes. I didn’t think he’d mind if I scooted back a few feet—” Her voice cracked. “I never saw either of them again.” She buried her head into his chest to escape the pain. “It’s asinine, but I always thought if I hadn’t disobeyed him, they’d have come back for me.”

  She stepped away from the comfort of his arms. The wind gusts had died down. His eyes never left her face.

  She turned to the bridge and summoned what little courage she had left before she faced Alex. “Deep inside, I think I caused their deaths. When the curse first made its appearance, everything made sense. The truth is … I’ll … I’ll never overcome this fear. Ever. Now, you know everything.”

  “You didn’t cause their deaths, and you’re not cursed. Our grief and guilt for being left behind makes us try to find some reason, some cause for such senseless tragedy.” He stood close but didn’t touch her. “Your pain makes my heart sick for what you went through. None of it makes a difference to me.” He clasped her shoulders and stared into her eyes—seeing every piece of her shame. “Do you understand? It doesn’t make any difference. I still want you as my wife.” His voice thickened. “Thank you for telling me. I’m honored.” He touched her face and brushed the wild loose hairs away from her face. “Let me help you get across. I’ll not leave your side.”

  She bowed her head and fought the tears that stung her eyes.

  “It’s all right. I’m right here.” Alex brought her close until her cheek rested against his chest. Hoping to escape the pain, she buried her head.

  She froze, finding it difficult to form a response, then turned to the end of the bridge. “I—I can’t do this. Leave me here.” Her whisper was lost with the gust of wind.

  It was inconceivable that Alex heard the words, but he coaxed her forward. “Claire, you can do this. I’ll not let go, I promise.” He took a step. She wrapped her arm around his waist and fisted his greatcoat in her hand. She tried to stop him, but he moved forward. If she was going to stay by his side, she had to take a step.

  She mimicked his movements, never letting go. Step after step, she walked beside him as they made their way across. The rush of water below was louder than the wind, and she could feel the rising cold mist hit her face. She couldn’t see the water, but she could hear the frantic pace of its flow. As if the night couldn’t get any worse, the wind kicked into a high dance with the bridge that caused it to sway back and forth. The wood groaned under the strain. Her cloak wrapped around her legs. She tried to keep her footing but lost her balance and fell into a heap.

  Her fall caused the light to extinguish. Alex knelt by her side and attempted to pick her up in his arms. “Are you all right?”

  Blackness surrounded them. Her panic took control. She grasped a wooden slat and wrestled away from him. She didn’t have any idea where she would go, but she had to find solid ground. She couldn’t catch her breath, and the water rushing below grew in volume.

  Alex stopped her retreat by grabbing her arms. “Listen to me, sweetheart. We have no choice but to go forward. Right now Emma’s no more than half a mile away at the inn. We’re so close. No doubt she’s frightened, Claire. She needs you.” He took her face in his hands. She couldn’t see anything, but his lips found the corner of her mouth as he spoke. “You have my promise. I will not let go.”

  She clenched his coat in her fists and held on. Her sanity depended on it. She forced herself to stand with his help. Somehow, she gathered strength from him and the words he had whispered. With a single nod of her head, she pulled him forward, and he gathered her in his arms.

  “We’re almost there, love.” Alex kissed her softly on the lips. “Let’s find Emma.”

  The wind lost some of its furor but managed to give a mighty gust as she clung to his side. Another flash of lightning lit the sky, illuminating the horses at the end of the bridge. A more subdued
Ares had joined Hermes at the end of the bridge. Claire had ten feet to go, so she concentrated on Emma.

  Relief flooded her as she reached solid ground, and for the first time she could take a deep breath. The air rushing through her lungs was as sweet as the smell of honeysuckle. She had made it across with Alex’s help. She turned as he came up behind her. “It’s trite, but thank—”

  “No, Claire.” His voice turned gentle. “I should be the one thanking you over and over for saving me. I have no place in this world if you’re not beside me.”

  * * *

  They arrived without fanfare to find the inn’s courtyard quiet. The wind had picked up again. Claire’s cloak whipped around as if trying to take flight.

  Her color had returned after the ordeal at the bridge. Watching her, Alex realized that she had more strength than any other person he knew, including himself. She was here because of the love she felt for her cousin. If only he had earned such a gift from her. He closed his eyes. After everything he’d done, he could only hope she’d allow him to make amends somehow, some way.

  The stable hands rushed forward to give a welcome. Alex helped Claire dismount and threw a coin to each man. “Attend to our horses if you’ll be so kind. I’m not certain how long we’ll be.” He turned to Claire. “Shall we, my dear?”

  “As ready as I’ll be, my lord.” Claire took a deep breath and took his arm. “How did you find me?”

  “Somerton found me outside on Lady Dalton’s terrace after you left. I went to Langham Hall, and Pitts disclosed what was happening. I followed immediately.”

  His wife’s green eyes widened with worry. “Do you think Somerton knows about Emma?”

  He nodded. “I asked him to keep an eye out for her. He wouldn’t say a word against her. Claire, we’ll find her. My carriage should arrive shortly, then we’ll all leave together.” To himself, he promised he’d see his wife and Emma safe, then discover what Lord Paul’s endgame was in tonight’s affairs.

  When they entered the inn, the main dining hall appeared filled to half capacity, with no sign of either Emma or Lord Paul. The other patrons didn’t bother to look up at their entrance or give any sign of curiosity. The inn’s owner, a man about sixty years old with a full head of white hair and a round midsection, approached with a big smile. With a bow of his head, he gave a hearty greeting. “Good evening, my lord. How may I help you?”