Blackthorne's Bride

by Joan Johnston

  For a breathless moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. And realized, to her horror, that she wanted to feel his lips against her own.

  Josie took a quick step aside, pulling free of Blackthorne’s embrace. “I enjoyed the ride,” she said. “Thank you for taking me.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  At that moment, two servants managed to get the front door to creak open. Harkness stepped through and onto the porch, a missive in his hand.

  “Your Grace, a telegram arrived while you were gone.”

  Josie was astonished when he handed the missive to her, rather than Blackthorne. “Are you sure this is for me?”

  He gave her a look that told her he wasn’t the kind of butler who made that kind of mistake.

  “Thank you, Harkness.”

  She took the telegram and then stared at it, afraid to open it. What disaster had befallen her family that they’d needed to send her a telegram? She felt sick to her stomach, and the copper taste of fear rose in her throat.

  “Aren’t you going to open it?” Blackthorne asked.

  She shot him a look of desperation. Through most of her childhood, she and her sisters had felt DOOMED to a terrible life. Now, at a time it seemed disaster might have been averted, she’d received this telegram.

  The paper was still trembling in her hand when Blackthorne took it from her. “Shall I read it?”

  She nodded, unable to speak because of the knot of fear in her throat.

  The duke read:

  Your Grace,

  Received word today that everyone has arrived safely.

  Your obedient servant, T

  “Who is ‘T’?” Blackthorne asked in a gruff voice. “And where is it everyone has arrived?”

  Josie wondered why Mr. Thompson had openly sent her a telegram. It was vague enough that Blackthorne hadn’t been able to decipher its meaning, and yet, it was a clear reminder that her family was anxiously awaiting her return. Time was running out. She had to give the boys time to get over the measles, but then she needed to grab them and go.

  She didn’t realize how long she’d been silent until Blackthorne said, “Is this another secret you’ve been keeping from me?”

  “My time in England was over and my family was expecting my return, when I heard you were looking for a wife. They don’t know I’ve stayed. They don’t know I’ve married you.”

  “Or that you’re not returning?” he said, a brow lifted in question.

  “Certainly, any plans to reunite with my family have been delayed until a more opportune time.”

  “You mean, when we can both go, and you can show off the royal duke you’ve snagged for a husband?”

  Josie bit her tongue rather than snap the retort that came to mind. Instead, she smiled and said, “Naturally.”

  “Who is ‘T’?” he repeated.

  “A Pinkerton detective.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “Why did you need a detective?”

  She wasn’t about to tell him the man had been hired by her sister to find her. “I wanted to know more about you, before I committed to marrying you.”

  His lips compressed. “And did you satisfy your curiosity?”

  “I married you, didn’t I?”

  She lifted her skirt and headed up the stone steps without another word. Let him stew on that for a while. She wondered if there was some other message Mr. Thompson had intended for her to receive by revealing himself to the duke. Was there some other emergency he hadn’t wanted to state in the telegram? But surely, if the situation had been dire, he would have made a point of meeting with her face-to-face. She had to assume the telegram meant no more than it had said.

  Her family was waiting for her. It was time to grab Spencer and Clay and go.

  Should she leave a message for the duke, telling him why she’d married him? Should she answer his unanswered questions?

  Why not leave him in doubt? About her. About everything. Why not let him suffer, at least a little, for the two years of hell she’d been put through? It was the very least he deserved.

  JOSIE MADE SURE the bedroom door between her room and the duke’s was locked that night, as she made plans to sneak away from Blackthorne Abbey the following morning. She still found it hard to believe she hadn’t locked it that first night. But she wasn’t making that mistake again.

  She spent a restless night trying to sleep and finally gave up at dawn. She dressed, collected her carpet bag, and glanced one last time at the door that separated her room and the duke’s. Then she quietly opened her bedroom door, stepped into the hall, and gently pulled it closed behind her.

  She was creeping down the hall on her way to the stairs, when she heard a woman crying. She told herself that what happened at the Abbey was no longer her concern, but she only took three more steps before she reversed course, dropped her carpet bag next to the wall, and headed down the hall toward the heart-wrenching sound.

  When she arrived at the housekeeper’s bedroom door, she knocked softly. The sobs stopped abruptly, but the door remained closed. “Harriet?” she whispered.

  The door opened a crack, and one swollen, reddened eye and a tearstained cheek appeared in the sliver of dawn light. In a choked voice, Harriet said, “Good morning, Your Grace.”

  “May I come in?”

  Josie saw the reluctance on the housekeeper’s face to involve her employer in whatever was causing her so much distress. “I would like to help.”

  “No one can help, Your Grace.”

  Josie realized that, in her anguish, Harriet had reverted to more formal address, instead of using her name. “I’d like to try.”

  The door opened farther, and Harriet stepped back to allow her inside. Josie was appalled to realize how bare the room was of any adornment. Apparently, Harriet owned nothing of her own, or hadn’t unpacked whatever she did have during the few days she’d been in the duke’s employ.

  Harriet crossed to the bed and slumped down on it, the graceful posture of the applicant for the housekeeper’s job wilted by whatever unbearable weight she was carrying. The chair that provided the only place to sit was positioned in the far corner of the room, so Josie decided to sit next to the distraught woman instead.

  Harriet’s body tensed as Josie joined her, and she looked confused by a duchess’s willingness to insinuate herself in something that arguably was none of her business.

  Josie decided to take the bull by the horns and simply asked, “What’s wrong, Harriet?”

  Tears leaked from Harriet’s eyes and dripped down her cheeks. She covered her mouth as another sob broke free.

  Josie slid an arm around the other woman’s shoulders and said, “It’s all right, Harriet. Everything will be fine. Please, tell me what’s happened.”

  “It’s my sisters,” Harriet choked out. “Their aunt, Lady Gertrude, no longer wants the burden of caring for them. They’re being sent to an orphanage. It’s an awful place, where they’ll be cold and hungry all the time. And there’s nothing I can do!”

  Josie shuddered. She remembered all too well the three years of hunger and deprivation—and the beatings with a birch rod—that she and her siblings had suffered at the Chicago Institute for Orphaned Children. She wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone, let alone her housekeeper’s family. “I’m sure something can be done.”

  “Even if I had the funds to care for them somewhere else, my sisters are Lady Gertrude’s wards. I’m powerless to help.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Josie said, her chin coming up pugnaciously. “You forget you’re now part of a duke’s household. Surely Blackthorne has enough influence to wrest your sisters from this contemptible woman’s grasp.”

  “Why would the duke bother with my family’s problems?”

  “Because his duchess will insist upon it,” Josie said with an encouraging smile, standing and turning to grab Harriet’s hands, before drawing her to her feet. “Now get up, wipe your eyes, and leave everything to me.”

&nbs
p; The look of hope in Harriet’s eyes brought a lump to Josie’s throat. There was no way she could leave today, she realized. She had to convince Blackthorne to help, and since she didn’t trust him entirely, she would need to remain long enough to ensure that Harriet’s siblings found a place to live.

  She was halfway to the door when she turned back and asked, “How old are your sisters?”

  “Emily is ten, Georgette is nine, and Anna is six.”

  “Hmmm.” Josie’s lips pursed thoughtfully.

  “Your Grace?”

  “I was hoping they might be old enough to be employed at the Abbey, but that won’t work. Never mind. I’ll figure something out.”

  She turned again to leave, then stopped once more to ask, “Where does Lady Gertrude live?”

  “Seven miles west of the Abbey, on a small estate she bought with funds left to her by her late husband.”

  “So the duke could be there and back with the girls in a day?” Josie asked.

  “Yes. I was hoping to be able to visit them on Sundays, but the orphanage where they’re being sent is too far away for that.”

  Josie waved her hand to allay the anxious look on Harriet’s face. “Your sisters will never see the inside of an orphanage, if I have anything to say about it.”

  Josie hurried back down the hall, retrieved her carpet bag, and hid it under her bed. Surely she could resolve Harriet’s problem within the next week and then be on her way. Once the high-and-mighty Duke of Blackthorne made his desires known, Lady Gertrude would likely fall all over herself to please him.

  All she had to do was convince Blackthorne to intervene.

  That didn’t turn out to be as easy as she’d hoped. All morning, Josie felt like she had an itch she couldn’t scratch. She kept waiting for precisely the right moment to approach Blackthorne with her request. But it never arrived.

  He spent the morning in the study with his new steward, going over renovation plans for the Abbey and discussing long overdue repairs he planned to make on his tenants’ homes.

  Mr. and Mrs. Robertson, another of Blackthorne’s neighbors, came by to visit shortly before noon and stayed for lunch.

  Once they left, Blackthorne was called outside to advise the gardener on several landscaping decisions. When he didn’t return after an entire hour, Josie went hunting for him. She didn’t want the sun to set before she had the issue of Harriet’s siblings resolved.

  She found Blackthorne in the stable loft. The place smelled of hay and harness and manure, and dust motes drifted in the sunlight. She put a hand above her brows to shade her eyes, as she leaned back to gaze up at him. “What are you doing up there?”

  “Come see.”

  Josie made a face as she stared at the ladder leading to the loft. She’d dressed to please Blackthorne that morning in a fitted day dress and a pair of buttoned-up high-heel shoes, none of which would be easy to climb in. However, if she joined him, there was little chance of being interrupted, and nowhere he could easily escape before she’d made her plea for help. She grabbed the closest rung and headed up.

  Blackthorne was waiting at the top and slid his hands into her armpits to lift her the last little way. She was breathless from the climb, and felt a frisson race down her spine at the feel of his hands in such intimate proximity to her breasts. Once she was steady, he let go of her and took a step back. The air caught in her lungs when she took a good look at him.

  His sleeves were rolled up to reveal strong forearms, and his blousy white shirt was open at the throat, where she could see sweat rolling down in streams, making the thin cloth cling to his broad chest. Sunshine poured in from the open loft doors. No wonder he was hot. She was feeling quite warm herself.

  “What did you want to show me?” she asked.

  He took her hand and led her to a corner, where a stack of hay had been hollowed out to form a nest. “This.”

  “Oh!”

  “It seems Fitch has been busy doing more than chasing mice.”

  Fitch lay in the nest of straw with four sleeping kittens at her side. Josie dropped to her knees to get a closer look. She glanced up at Blackthorne and asked, “How old are they?”

  “I’d say about five weeks. They’ll be old enough to leave their mother soon.”

  “How will they get down from the loft?”

  He shrugged. “I imagine Fitch will teach them.”

  Having just climbed the intimidating ladder, Josie asked, “How do you suppose she gets up here?”

  He shrugged again. “I have no idea.”

  Josie desperately wanted to cuddle one of the kittens, but she wasn’t sure how Fitch would react. “Do you think she’d let me hold one?”

  He dropped to one knee beside the cat. “Let’s see.”

  The first thing he did was to stroke Fitch’s side. When the mother cat allowed that without protest, his large hand circled the one kitten that was different from the others, which were black-and-brown, and lifted it away. Fitch watched him carefully but didn’t try to scratch or bite.

  Josie settled herself down in the straw as Blackthorne handed her the taffy-colored kitten. She held it up to observe its adorable face and then aimed a grateful smile at him. She could hardly believe she was holding a kitten at long last. She stroked its forehead as she cooed to the little animal, “You’re about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. I think I’ll call you Dusty.”

  “I take it you’re planning to keep that one.”

  “Yes,” she said, making the decision on the spot. The kitten should be old enough to leave its mother within the week she’d given herself to get Harriet’s siblings settled, and she could take it with her when she left. “Can we move Fitch and her kittens inside to my room? She can keep the mice away, and I’ll be able to enjoy all the kittens before they find new homes. Besides, I don’t like to think of one of them getting too adventuresome and falling from this height.”

  He didn’t look entirely happy about having a family of cats in the house. “I suppose that would be all right.” He grinned and added, “But I can’t say I would mind if you found yourself fleeing another mouse and ended up in my arms again.”

  Josie felt the heat on her cheeks. She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing. But the fact that Blackthorne was teasing her suggested he might be in a good frame of mind to help her with Harriet’s problem.

  “I have a favor to ask.” She met his gaze and realized his eyes were focused on what she was doing. Josie suddenly realized she was rubbing the kitten’s soft fur against her cheek and lowered the tiny animal back to Fitch’s side, before turning to face her husband.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked.

  Since he was still down on one knee, she put a daring hand on his thigh. “It isn’t something for me. It’s something for Harriet.”

  He cleared his throat. “The housekeeper?”

  She talked fast, because the look on Blackthorne’s face suggested that his patience for talk was fast disappearing. “Harriet’s three sisters are going to end up in an orphanage, if we don’t help.”

  “What do we have to do with Harriet’s siblings?”

  “The girls are wards of their aunt, and Lady Gertrude has decided she doesn’t want to take care of them any longer. I thought you might be able to persuade her to let you take over their guardianship.”

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Because orphanages aren’t the best place to raise children who have a family member willing to care for them. Harriet loves her sisters. She’s been distraught that she can’t do anything to change their situation. I told her you would do what you can to make their lives better.”

  He put a hand over hers where it lay on his thigh, making it possible for her to more easily feel the rock-hard muscle beneath her fingertips. She became aware of the heat of his body and the not-unpleasant smell of a hard-working man. “I presume you’ve figured out a way I can do that?”

  “Well, no, actually.” She resisted the urge to pull
her hand free. She needed to keep Blackthorne close until she got his help. She focused her gaze on his and said, “I thought you might be able to come up with a way to get Harriet and her sisters back together.”

  Josie realized when she finished speaking that she hadn’t actually thought this out. She should have figured out a solution to the problem herself, before confronting Blackthorne. Or several solutions, to give him a choice of how to help.

  “I’d be willing to donate a portion of my allowance every quarter to support them.” Although, she wouldn’t actually be here to do it, she could have a solicitor arrange for the funds to be transferred from wherever she ended up.

  “That won’t be necessary,” he said, his thumb caressing the top of her hand where it lay on his thigh.

  Josie shivered, even though she wasn’t the least bit cold. “It won’t?”

  “Do you remember the gatekeeper’s cottage I showed you at the entrance to the property?”

  Josie remembered the one-story stone house, because it had seemed a waste that no one was using it. “Oh, Marcus! The girls can live there with Harriet. What a wonderful idea! And with the allowance I provide—”

  “It might be better to increase Harriet’s wages enough for her to pay for the care of her sisters, so it doesn’t seem like charity.”

  “You’re right. She does have a great deal of pride. That will work much better.” However, having a place for Harriet’s siblings to live and money to feed them didn’t entirely solve the problem, so she said, “Can we go now and talk with the children’s aunt? I don’t want the threat of living in an orphanage to be hanging over their heads even one more day.”

  “All right,” he said with a laugh. “If you insist.”

  “Thank you, Marcus. Thank you! I have to tell Harriet the good news. She’ll be ecstatic!”

  Josie was feeling pretty ecstatic herself and pulled her hand from beneath Blackthorne’s, so she could throw both of them around his neck. The impetus of her move caused the duke to lose his balance. He tumbled backward laughing, pulling her along with him, rolling over so she ended up lying beneath him in the straw.