The Earl's Secret Bride

by Joanne Wadsworth

  “You feel incredible around me,” he murmured in her ear. “You are my secret bride, whom from this day forth will be pleasured often at my hand, at every possible opportunity afforded to me. Never will I let you go again.”

  “Yes, I’m your secret bride,” she whispered against his lips as he kissed her again.

  She would never let him go either, not now she’d partaken of the wonders of their marriage bed, or as close to a marriage bed as she could currently hope for.

  ***

  The ride back to Hillhurst Hall passed by in the blink of an eye for Rosamonde.

  Winterly had fixed his clothing, while she’d wiped a smear of blood from her inner thighs with Winterly’s handkerchief. Her new husband had then aided her in donning her chemise and buttoning her red traveling gown before he’d settled her in his lap. With her head resting on his broad shoulder, she’d dozed off and on, her body so languid and replete with pleasure she hadn’t been able to remain fully awake.

  “We’re here,” he murmured in her ear as he allowed the curtain to sway back into place after peering out the window.

  “What is your plan now?” She stretched and yawned.

  “It’s still dark outside, although dawn won’t be far away.” He lifted her from his lap and rapped on the ceiling. “Halt at the end of the driveway,” he commanded his driver.

  The carriage slowed and rocked to a halt.

  Winterly held out her cloak and she stood and pressed her hands against his chest as he swung the heavy folds over her shoulders and secured it at her neck. He looked into her eyes as he lifted her fur-lined hood over her head. “We shall return to the hall the same way we left, by way of the cellar tunnel.”

  She nodded in agreement, then pocketed her bonnet and gloves as he swung his cloak over his shoulders and tugged his hood over his head.

  Once he opened the door and aided her to the gravelly ground outside, she scanned their surroundings. Darkness still clung to the night sky, stars glittering here and there with a small sliver of the moon shining through a light layer of night cloud. A smidgeon of paler blue sky hazed the far horizon where the sun would soon rise.

  The hoot of an owl broke the stillness as Winterly left her side and spoke to his valet and coachman. Done with the instructions he’d issued to them, he returned to her, wrapped his warm fingers around her fingers and guided her up the driveway. They followed the darkened line of the driveway trees until the silhouette of the hall rose out of the dark. Candles burned in the front windows near the doors, but all the other windows remained shrouded in darkness.

  “Come with me.” Winterly led her through the rambling gardens, weaving through the trees toward the place where the tunnel entrance lay. In front of the scrub, he lifted the greenery aside and gestured for her to go first.

  On her hands and knees, she crawled through the gap and negotiated the tight space until she was able to push to her feet as the tunnel ceiling rose higher. The cloying odor of dirt and grit strengthened the farther she traversed the darkened recesses of the underground passageway, Winterly close at her heels. Another hundred feet along, shadowy light flickered up ahead.

  “Allow me to go first.” Winterly held her steady by the shoulders as he eased past her, then he continued on and she kept pace one step behind him.

  Up ahead, a candle burned in a holder, its light shimmering over shelved rows holding her Father’s wine collection.

  Winterly stepped up to the door, waited with one ear pressed to the paneled wood and listened for any possible noise in the servants’ stairwell. He tipped his gaze back toward her. “I can’t hear even a snicker of noise.”

  “That is good. All must remain clear.” She stepped up to him and cupped his warm cheeks, her heart overflowing with love for him. “I wouldn’t wish for us to get caught together after we’ve taken such care thus far.”

  “I agree. We should return to our chambers separately so as not to be discovered with each other.” He searched her gaze, a frown furrowing his brow. “I instructed my coachman to be ready to depart for London in a few hours. The horses need to be fed and to have a little time to rest, although the sooner Avery and I are away, the better. Before I leave though, I need your promise. You aren’t to speak of our elopement to anyone, not to your family or mine, not to a living soul. It must remain a secret.”

  “I promise.” She crossed her heart. “I’ll take all care.”

  “You’ll do more than that, Rosamonde.” He searched her gaze. “Keep your maid close at all times. You must never allow Roth the chance to have a moment alone with you. Use the farce of having megrims for as long as you possibly can, then invent something else if need be.”

  “May I see you and Avery off at the front door?”

  “It would be best if you didn’t.” He cleared his throat, his gaze narrowing with clear determination. “I’ve learnt tonight that I have very little restraint when it comes to you. Even now I wish to toss your skirts up and have my wicked way with you. Which cannot happen. Go straight up the stairs to your chamber, and keep to the shadows. Don’t allow anyone to see you enter your room. That’s an order.”

  “Yes, my lord.” She wished to make things as easy as possible for him, so she obeyed, sneaking through the door and hurrying upstairs. No looking back. She would likely falter in her step otherwise. Hands brushing the gritty stone walls, she kept alert as she passed the flickering candlelight glowing from the wall sconce up ahead. Broken cobwebs fluttered and she swept one aside and ascended the last flight of stairs.

  At the top, she slipped through the door and waited in the shadows of the niche.

  No noise filtered through to her, so she ducked her head out and checked both ends of the passageway. All remained clear, her chamber door only a few feet away.

  Keeping her hood over her head, she stole along the carpeted runner, opened her door and closed it swiftly behind her. With her back pressed to the coolness of the wood, she remained perfectly still. As she’d expected her chamber was cloaked in darkness, her drapes drawn across the square-cut windows and her fire unlit, exactly as she’d left her chamber last night, but something was wrong. Very wrong.

  Chills rippled down her spine.

  Her instincts screamed for her to run.

  “About time you surfaced.” The rap of a cane on the wooden floorboards had her searching the darkened corner near her armchair. A man’s shadowy figure emerged from the dark, the whites of his eyes glowing and the scent of pipe-smoke assailing her senses. A cobweb clung to the collar of his fine gray jacket.

  “W-what are you doing in my chamber? How did you get in here?”

  “I didn’t care for the missive your brother sent to me in response to my request that you join me for an outing. Your so-called megrim seemed to have come upon you at a rather convenient time, so I returned swiftly here last eve to my chamber down the passageway. I had intended to ask your maid about your health, but before I could, I spied two people in hooded cloaks disappearing down the servants’ stairwell. When I ventured down there myself, I found no one else below-stairs other than the servants in the kitchens.” His gray, flinty eyes narrowed. “I returned upstairs and knocked upon your door. To my surprise, I found no trace of you.”

  “I have been busy, that is all.”

  “I’ve been awaiting your return, and low and behold here you are wearing a hooded cloak. Whom did you sneak away with last night, Lady Rosamonde?”

  “This is my home and I won’t be questioned by you within it.”

  “If you were one of the two cloaked forms, then who was the other? Lord Winterly perhaps?” Moving a step closer, he stabbed his cane into the floor by her foot. “He seems to have taken a rather intense interest in you since his arrival.”

  “He is my brother’s best friend and I’ve known him a long time.”

  “You are my future bride, not his.”

  She stiffened.

  “Tell me,” he snapped, spittle flying from the grim slash of his li
ps. “What have you been doing with Winterly for the past eight hours? If you have taken him as your lover, I shall thrash you to within an inch of your life.”

  “I would never take a man to my bed, not unless I’d wed him.” She wouldn’t allow Roth to darken Winterly’s honorable character, although she also couldn’t speak the truth about her elopement. She’d promised Winterly she wouldn’t tell a living soul, and she would honor his request.

  “Damn you.” He backhanded her and she hit the wall, blood spurting from a split in her lip, her cheek throbbing. In her face, he bit out, “I have no intention of losing you to another man, just as I lost your mother. I shall request a special license so we can be wed in three days’ time. Until then, you will come with me.”

  “You can’t take me from my home.”

  “I’ll leave a note here in your chamber for your parents, then I will find a priest who will marry us and once we’ve spoken our vows, I’ll ensure the earl and countess are made aware that we are man and wife. ”

  “No, please, I beg—”

  He shoved her into the wall and she hit her head with a mighty thunk. She swayed and the room spun.

  “Restrain her, Hobbs.” Roth stepped back and crossed to her writing desk.

  Another shadowy figure stepped clear of the far corner. A second intruder. The man stormed toward her and before she could scream, he stuffed a foul-smelling cloth over her nose. The abrasive stench clogged her throat and black dots danced in front of her eyes. She gagged, her legs dropping out from under her.

  Hobbs heaved her up and her belly thumped into his rock hard shoulder. Belladonna. A sedative. It laced the cloth with its acrid scent. She tried to open her mouth and yell for help, only all went dark and she sank into complete and utter oblivion.

  Chapter 12

  A few hours later and agonized at having to leave so soon, Winterly stood at his chamber window as Peterson finished packing his belongings for the trip to London. Gray morning clouds cast a heavy pall over the sky, his current mood just as despairingly dreary. Being deprived of his bride for the next two weeks that he’d be away wouldn’t be easy. How he would manage the months during their coming courtship where he’d be forced to remain apart from her for days and weeks on end, would be damned difficult.

  “Let’s break our fast before we leave, shall we?” Avery strode into his room wearing buff breeches and a beige jacket and white neckcloth. His lifelong friend frowned as he eyed him from head to toe. “Is everything all right? You appear out of sorts.”

  Tugging on the hem of his blue silk waistcoat, the collar of his matching jacket flicked high over his impeccably tied black cravat, he offered Avery a smile which he dredged up from somewhere deep within him. “All is well, my friend, I assure you. Shall we break our fast in the dining room?”

  “Yes, I caught the mouthwatering scent of bacon, sausages, and fresh bread wafting up the stairs as I made my way to your chamber.”

  “You truly do have a superb talent at dissecting scents from a great distance.”

  “Well, thank you. It is a skill I learned at a very young age and has always seen me in good stead.” Beaming, Avery clapped him on the shoulder and urged him out his door.

  Trotting downstairs, he silently counseled himself with each step he took, as he’d done since his return from Gretna Green. It was his duty to consider his wife’s needs above his own, her greatest need that of having more time here at Hillhurst Hall with her mother. He would see that done, no matter if it killed him.

  In the dining room he pulled out a navy padded chair and sat at the table which easily seated a dozen. A footman stood near the door, although he and Avery appeared to be the only two who had yet arisen even though it was half past ten.

  He laid a napkin over his lap and partook of a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs, sausages and fried tomatoes, followed by fresh bread rolls and a cup of steaming hot chocolate poured by a maid who arrived to attend them. As he ate, Avery read to him from the newspaper then showed him a caricature drawn of a couple amongst the ton who were currently causing the most intense scandal. The daughter of a duke had recently wed a viscount, the two of them arguing rather loudly during a gathering at Almack’s, in which the viscount had ended the argument by scooping his lady up and stalking from the building with her in his arms. The caricature showed the gloriously-gowned lady with cheeks puffed out and steam rising from her head, while her newly wedded husband smirked with great delight.

  “Good morning, Avery, Winterly.” Hillhurst walked into the room pushing Lady Hillhurst in her wheeled chair, the lady’s day gown a soft shade of pale pink, her golden hair holding a few streaks of gray, her locks twisted into an elegant chignon with a sprig of dainty white flowers tucked in the top. The liveried footman removed a chair next to the earl’s chair at the head of the table where her ladyship usually sat.

  “Good morning to you too, Father, Mother.” With a mischievous smile, Avery added a splash of brandy to his hot chocolate from a flask. “Did you both sleep well?”

  “Very well.” Hillhurst tucked his wife’s wheeled chair into place, dropped an affectionate kiss on the top of the countess’s head and once assured of his lady’s comfort, he took his seat. A maid attended them, serving breakfast foods and pouring both the earl and the countess hot drinks and once the maid had retreated back to the side table, the earl flicked a hand dismissing the servants completely from the room.

  The footman closed the door quietly behind him and the maid.

  Once they were alone, the earl glanced from him to Avery and back to him. “Winterly, my wife and I both wished to join you and my son to break our fast before the two of you departed for London.”

  Lady Hillhurst pressed a hand to her chest, her blue-green eyes the exact same shade as Rosamonde’s. “My lord, my husband and I are beholden to you.”

  He held up a hand. “I’m certain it is I who is beholden to you.”

  “No.” A firm shake of her head. “I know my daughter well and she agreed to marry Lord Roth because that was what her father had asked of her. She understands her duty to her family, but I pray you will be successful in your current endeavor taking you and Avery away from Hillhurst Hall this day. I truly wish only to see her happy, and that happiness will be certain if she is permitted to wed you. Rosamonde has always been extremely fond of you.” The countess smiled then cleared her throat, her gaze lowering to the lacy white tablecloth then back to him. “Well, more than fond. One could almost say she’s been smitten with you since you rescued her and me from those awful highwaymen six years ago. I also spoke to Rosamonde yesterday afternoon, while she was sequestered in her bedchamber, and my daughter’s worry was clear to see. She is hopeful that you and Avery will be successful, but in the meantime, until your return, I shall do my utmost to ensure Lord Roth is aware she is unwell and unable to converse with him. Her father and I will do our best to delay the marquess in his endeavor to speak vows with her at the end of the month. We will invent whatever necessary illnesses are needed, so do not fear that we will allow her to leave this house before you and Avery return.”

  “Thank you. Your words greatly reassure me. Certainly those within the peerage rarely wed in order to accommodate the whimseys of our hearts, but in truth I am extremely fond of your daughter too, and will miss her terribly while I’m away. I give you my word I will secure the funds needed so you are no longer beholden to Roth.”

  “We will return the payment on those funds within five years,” Hillhurst stated with firm authority. “I would much rather be in debt to you, Winterly, than I ever would with Roth. There is also the matter of Rosamonde’s dowry which will be paid directly to her future husband upon her marriage taking place. Those are funds which remain untouched. Twenty thousand pounds in full.”

  Funds to use as he pleased, but which he intended to offset against Hillhurst’s debt to him. His papa had taught him that family came first and that should one of them need aid, then they offered that aid. “Then if
you will allow, I would prefer to reduce your debt by the same figure.” He reached out a hand toward Hillhurst. “Do I have your agreement?”

  “You are a credit to your papa, Winterly. May he rest in peace.” Hillhurst shook his offered hand. “He was a wise man, loyal beyond measure, with deep affection for his family. I will accept your gracious offer and ask that you make all haste to London, then return as swiftly as possible.”

  “That is my intention.” He wouldn’t let either Rosamonde or her family down.

  “Before you leave though, there is more I need to speak to you and Avery about.” Hillhurst leaned forward, his gaze intent. “I’m referring to both my past, and my wife’s past…with, ah, Roth.”

  “James, no.” Lady Hillhurst gripped her husband’s arm.

  “Elizabeth, Winterly needs to know the full truth, and so does Avery. We are still withholding information from them, information they need to know. It’s time we came clean on everything.” Hillhurst rubbed his wife’s hand resting on his arm and when she sighed and nodded her head in acquiescence, the earl eyed him again. “My wife and I knew each other for years before we wed, but a few months before Elizabeth’s debut Season, we became extremely close. I was enamored by her, and she with me. When I approached Elizabeth’s father to ask for her hand in marriage, he wouldn’t grant his approval. Her father had wished for her to marry the Marquess of Roth and had even entered into negotiations with him.”

  “That’s who Mother was set to wed before you stole her away?” Avery’s mouth gaped open.

  “Yes, my son, and he told me quite bluntly that his daughter would never wed me, not since I was naught but the third son of an earl and Roth already titled following his father’s passing. I was left with no choice but to steal my wife away even though a formal betrothal announcement had been agreed between her and the marquess. I kidnapped Elizabeth, who had no issue with being kidnapped, and thus we ran away to Gretna Green. That caused a great deal of strain between her and her parents for the first few months of our marriage. Then of course my elder two brothers passed away so soon afterward and I was suddenly overcome with becoming the new Earl of Hillhurst. It was a difficult time as I grieved for my lost family members, as well as stepping up and learning all that I needed to, in taking the reins of this estate and all it entailed. Since we had embroiled ourselves in a rather intense scandal at the time, due to our clandestine marriage, we’d also been shunned by those within our Society. My wife and I gladly redrew here to the hall, until a sufficient amount of time had passed, our scandal having been swept aside by the many other scandals that had followed ours.”