A Risk Worth Taking

by Laura Landon

  Anne’s heart raced in her breast and she gasped for air. “Is Griff here?”

  “Of course,” Patience said on a laugh. “I think you were worried he would not be.”

  Anne’s heart pounded faster. “Yes. No. I mean…I just thought perhaps he might be late.”

  “No, he’s on time. I still wish you would have let us invite at least a few guests.”

  “No. This is the way I want my wedding to be. We will invite all of London when Rebecca gets married.”

  Anne took a few steps toward the door, then stopped.

  I need to know which one of us you choose.

  She didn’t want to ask her next question, but she had to. She had to know. “Patience, is Griff…?” She twisted her hands in front of her. “Is he…?”

  “He’s fine, Anne. Fine. And I must admit I have never seen a more handsome groom since Adam walked down the aisle at our wedding.”

  Anne nodded, then followed Patience down the stairs. She walked across the marble foyer, then came to a stop when she entered the morning room and saw him. Her heart skipped a beat. Patience was right. It wasn’t fair for one man to be so handsome. Especially the man who would be her husband. And it wasn’t fair for the man she was about to marry to feel such regret. She could see it on his face. Feel his frustration.

  She knew she should walk to him. Patience was already in the front of the room with the minister. But Anne couldn’t force her feet to move. She couldn’t take the first step that would change the rest of her life. She took a deep breath, praying for the strength to go to him.

  Their gazes locked. The understanding in his eyes told her he knew how difficult this was for her.

  He came toward her, stopping in front of her.

  “I know this isn’t what you envisioned for your wedding day.”

  She shook her head. “I was never a romantic schoolgirl who dreamt of a wedding day.” She looked toward the window. “The sun is shining. Doesn’t that promise the bride and groom something?”

  He smiled. “Yes. I believe I heard somewhere that it does.”

  He reached for her hands and she pulled them back. “I’m not sure…” she started. Heaven help her. She wasn’t sure she could go through with this. “I don’t think—Is this the choice you wanted to make?”

  He placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “Yes. I cannot promise you my heart, Anne, and perhaps you will never want it. But I can promise that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe and keep you from regretting that you took my name.”

  “And what would you like me to promise in return?” she asked, sensing the distance he wanted to keep between them. “My heart?”

  He hesitated, then answered. “No.”

  “My love?”

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  He turned his face away from her, unable to hold her gaze.

  “Then what?” she demanded.

  “Your hand to hold when I lose my way.”

  Her heart twisted in her breast. “And what if I don’t know the way? What if what I have to offer is not enough?”

  “It will be.”

  He held out his hand again and this time she took it. His touch sent a fiery heat spiraling to every part of her body. She didn’t want to feel this attraction to him.

  She didn’t want to remember the way he’d held her to him, and ran his hands over her body, and kissed her lips until she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want to ache for his assurance that her life wouldn’t be like her mother’s. Empty. Lonely. Desolate. That she wasn’t marrying a man who loved a bottle more than he loved his wife or family. But she had no choice. She had to take the risk.

  She walked to the front of the room and repeated her vows. She promised to love and honor and cherish, until death do us part.

  She wanted the words to mean something, but when it came time for Griff to repeat the same vows, he hesitated.

  She thought for a moment he wouldn’t repeat the words the minister spoke.

  The silence echoed in the room with a deafening roar. He took a deep breath and reached for her hand.

  Your hand to hold when I lose my way.

  She wrapped her trembling fingers around his sweating palm and held tight.

  Chapter 21

  Griff sat opposite Anne as their carriage traveled through the English countryside. He kept his eyes focused out the window, watching for anything that might seem out of the ordinary. If there were a time and a place where they were most vulnerable, this was it. They were basically in the open. He absently touched his hand to the pistol in his jacket pocket, then turned back to his wife.

  He hadn’t been the best companion on their journey to Covington Manor. His thoughts had been too occupied with keeping his new wife safe. “Do you need to stop?” he asked, breaking the silence. “We could stop to rest if you need to.”

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

  This was the first she’d spoken in over an hour, the last time only to answer when he’d asked if she was comfortable.

  He pointed to a basket under her seat. “Patience sent along a light lunch and something to drink so we wouldn’t have to stop along the way.” Adam had provided a meal before they’d left, but he’d noticed she’d eaten very little. “Are you hungry?”

  “No. Are you?”

  He shook his head.

  “Are you watching for something, Griff?” She studied him as if he were a stranger. Perhaps the magnitude of having him as her husband was finally taking hold. Perhaps she couldn’t believe she was married any more than he could.

  “Nothing in particular. But it’s better to be cautious.”

  “Yes. I’ve always considered riding with two loaded pistols and three armed guards necessary when traveling through the peaceful English countryside.”

  The expression on her face said she realized the precautions he’d taken in assuring their safety were not normal for an ordinary trip to the country. So be it. For her own safety, it was best she knew up front the danger she was in. It was best he kept no secrets from her. She would be safer that way. Safer than he’d kept Julia and Andrew. Or Fespoint. Or her brother.

  He studied the disinterest she attempted to show and knew it was feigned. “I’m being cautious because you did not step out in front of the carriage that hit you. It swerved into your path. Whether you were the intended victim or I, the attempt to hit one of us was deliberate.”

  A frown darkened her face. “Do you know why?”

  “I’m afraid I am the reason. It has something to do with what I was involved with during the war.”

  “Which was?”

  “Intelligence. I uncovered a group of agents who had infiltrated our regiments. They were executed.”

  “Then how can they still be a threat?”

  “There is a possibility that the attempts may be in retaliation for their deaths.”

  “But that carriage accident was just one event. How can you draw such a conclusion when something only happened once? If there had been another time, another attempt on either…” The color drained from her face. “There was another attempt, wasn’t there?”

  He held her gaze. He had known this day would come and was almost glad it was here now. “Yes.”

  “It was the night Freddie was killed, wasn’t it?” Her eyes opened wider, and her breaths came in harsh, shallow gasps. “You think the bullet that killed Freddie was intended for you, don’t you? You think Freddie died instead of you?”

  Griff turned to watch out the window. He couldn’t hold her gaze. He was afraid he couldn’t handle the hatred he’d see. “Freddie didn’t have an enemy in the world,” he finally answered.

  “But you did.”

  “Yes. I did.”

  “That is why you took such an interest in us. Your reason for helping Rebecca and me was motivated not only out of friendship for Freddie, but to ease your own conscience. That is why you brought me to London. Why you outfitted me in th
e latest fashions. Why you placed a dowry on me that was guaranteed to attract any number of suitors. You couldn’t live with the fact that you were responsible for Freddie’s death.”

  He drilled her with a look meant to intimidate her. “Everything I did, I would have done anyway. Freddie was my friend. His dying words were a plea for me to take care of you.”

  She did not back down. “How unfortunate for you. I’m sure you found his demand on your friendship a great imposition.”

  “I did for him what I would have expected him to do for me. I took care of you the only way I knew how.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t mean for you to marry me.”

  “Perhaps not. That was a decision I made on my own.”

  “A decision? I think not, sir. It was a mistake. A mistake neither of us should have let happen.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “You think either of us could have stopped what happened between us?”

  Her cheeks turned a bright crimson. He knew she was remembering the kiss they’d shared as well as the way he’d held her and touched her.

  “I wish I would have at least tried.”

  “You would have been no more successful than I.”

  She lowered her gaze to her hands folded in her lap. “What are your plans now? Do you intend to lock me away in the country while you return to London to find the man who killed Freddie?”

  “No. I intend to wait for him to come to me.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “You think he will follow us?”

  “There is that possibility.”

  “Then what? Will we make ourselves targets and wait for him to kill one of us?”

  “No! Nothing will happen to you. I’ve already made arrangements to have the grounds of Covington Manor guarded. No one will get close enough to do you any harm as long as you go no farther than the gardens.”

  “Do you intend to stay where you will be safe, too?”

  “I’ll do what I have to do. But I must have your word, Anne. You must promise that you will not go beyond the gardens until I am sure everything is safe.”

  “You mean until either you or the killer is dead.”

  “That will probably be the outcome. I will try not to distress you by making you my widow so soon after making you my bride.”

  “I’ll hold you to that, Mr. Blackmoor. I have no intention of wearing black, even for you.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He returned his focus to the scenery outside the window.

  For a long while they were both silent. When she spoke again, her voice held a resolve he knew she could achieve at will.

  “We must be nearly there. I recognize this area.”

  “We’ve just crossed the border onto Covington land. That copse of trees is the boundary line between our two estates.”

  “Is this where we will live?”

  “Yes. I am the steward of Covington Estate. We will live here. Adam and Patience prefer to reside at Wellington Estate, another Covington holding. It’s not too far from here, so it will be convenient for us to visit often.”

  “Did you know that Freddie left me a small parcel of land on the border between Covington Estate and Brentwood Estate?”

  “Yes. Your solicitor explained that he did, although I can’t imagine why. That area is worthless.”

  “Is it near here?”

  Griff’s heart skipped a beat. “Yes, it’s to the east of here. But you are never to go there.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s dangerous.”

  “But surely—”

  “No,” he said more sharply than he intended. Fear that something might happen to her sent a wave of raw panic racing through him. “The rocks are littered with caves that flood when the tide comes in. Anyone trapped there will drown before they can get out. You will never, under any circumstances, go anywhere near the cliffs. Do you hear me?”

  Two bright-red circles dotted her otherwise pale complexion. “Yes, sir. I hear you.”

  Griff saw the proud lift to her chin and heard the defiance in her tone. He’d recognized this strength when he’d seen her at Freddie’s funeral. It was what had drawn him to her from the start.

  Then he noticed her hands tremble in her lap.

  Griff sank back in his seat and waited for his temper to calm. Bloody hell. Why had he yelled at her?

  “I’m sorry. I don’t usually react so violently.”

  She didn’t look away from him but drilled him with a glare that brimmed with serious intensity. “I won’t have a marriage where we raise our voices in anger,” she said firmly. “It achieves no good purpose.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “I agree. Please, accept my apology.”

  The expression on her face told him her reaction to his raised voice was based on something more personal. “Did your parents often argue?”

  She turned her face away from him to look out the window. “Their relationship was unique. I do not intend to mirror their example.”

  “Our marriage will not be like your parents’, Anne. Neither of us will be antagonistic toward the other.”

  “You think my parents were antagonistic to each other?”

  “Yes. Freddie led me to believe they fought a great deal.”

  “Only my mother fought, sir. She never ceased trying to make her life better. She never ceased trying to change what everyone knew would never change. You see, she made one fatal mistake even before she married my father.”

  He lifted his brows, waiting for her to continue. “And her mistake was?”

  “She fell hopelessly in love with him and would have done anything if only he would have returned that love.”

  “Was your father in love with someone else?”

  “Not someone. Something. His next drink. My father loved his next bottle of whiskey too much to even know how he destroyed everything he touched.”

  Griff didn’t move. He couldn’t. He felt the color drain from his face and sank back as if a heavy weight had dropped onto his chest.

  The air in the close confines of the carriage stilled as if both of them had ceased breathing.

  I need to know which one of us you choose.

  Bloody hell. This was the risk she was taking.

  “Your father was a drunkard?”

  She lowered her gaze to her hands twisting in her lap. “I don’t remember him ever being sober.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Not many did. For the most part, he kept to himself in the country and did his drinking where no one could see him. We rarely went to London, where anyone would realize his problem.”

  “How did he die? I remember he had an accident of some sort.”

  “His pride and joy were his stables. He loved to ride. The more inebriated he was, the faster he rode and the more chances he took. When I was sixteen, he took out a new horse he’d just purchased. The horse was not as tame as the others, nor was it used to Father. He was drunk and had no business riding. He tried to jump a row of hedges and missed. He broke his neck in the fall. Mother died of loneliness less than a year later. She’d lived her whole life thinking her love could make him stop drinking. After he was gone, she could not live with her failure. She loved him too much to go on without him.”

  “And you will not make that same mistake?”

  He heard the soft gasp that caught the air in her throat. She appeared untouchable. He waited, but she didn’t answer him.

  Her silence was more telling than a thousand words.

  “Are you afraid I might be like your father?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again as if she couldn’t find the courage to tell him she did. Couldn’t find the courage to tell him she was terrified that someday a bottle of liquor would be more important to him than she. Instead, she said the last words he ever expected to come from her mouth.

  “We will go day by day. One day at a time.”

  The air drained from his lungs. “What did you say?”

&nb
sp; “I said, we’ll go day by day, one day at a time, and we’ll be fine.”

  His mind raced back to the time right after he’d brought her to London. To when he lay in a secluded room at Adam’s town house and thought he would die before the liquor in his body left him. To the time when he thought Julia had come to him, held his hand, placed a cool cloth on his forehead, and whispered encouragement in his ear. To when the words just stay with me and I’ll help you, day by day, one day at a time had been all that kept him going.

  But Julia hadn’t spoken those words. They’d been spoken by Anne. She’d been the one at his bedside, not Julia. Anne knew how strong a hold liquor had on him. She knew he was a drunkard just like her father, struggling to stay away from that next drink, wondering when he could no longer push it away, when the blessed relief of a drink would be more important than his wife or his family. No wonder she didn’t want to marry him. No wonder she had demanded that he choose between her and the glass of whiskey he’d cradled in his hand.

  “May I ask you a question, sir?”

  He slowly turned his head to look at her.

  “The day you came to see me at the cottage to tell me I had to go to London to find a husband, I made the mistake of assuming you had come to offer marriage yourself. You told me then you would rather face a firing squad than marry. Is the idea of marriage still so reprehensible?”

  “That is a moot point, wife. Just as your reasons for not wanting to marry me are no longer of importance. Any reason we might have had before for avoiding matrimony was taken out of our hands when Lord Portsmouth walked through that door and found us together.”

  He turned to keep watch out the window. “We have both made the devil’s bargain.”

  Before he could see her reaction to his statement, a loud pop stopped him from saying whatever else he intended to say. The carriage jerked hard to the right.

  Before he had time to reach for the pistol in his jacket pocket, the carriage lurched forward. The jolt tossed him across the seat.

  The sound of horses’ screaming clashed with the driver’s loud yells. The carriage tipped precariously, then rolled end over end.

  Griff clutched Anne tightly as the carriage turned over. They were tossed about like little marbles shaken in a cup. His only thought was to protect her from being hurt.