Rescued by a Duke

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Rescued by a Duke Page 11

by Ruth J. Hartman


  How was he going to tell Sasha that his own brother had killed hers? He couldn't imagine forming those words and saying them out loud.

  Regaining some semblance of himself, he stepped from the curricle, leaving it and the horses for the stable boys to deal with. Such things seemed trivial in light of what he'd just learned. Would he ever be able to erase the barmaid's words from his mind, naming his own brother as a killer? Something like that could haunt a man's dreams forever.

  Garrett trudged up his front steps. His feet as heavy as boulders, his steps slow. How on earth was he going to tell Sasha the truth? There would be no easy way. Maybe he could wait until after the wedding. If he told her before, she would be so upset she might not want to go through with the ceremony, and that was a possibility he could not bear.

  Having found his soul mate at last, he'd do nearly anything to make her his wife. He rubbed his hand on his chin. Yes, that was it. He would wait to tell her. Then at least she could enjoy her wedding day without sadness or anger. It was the right decision, wasn't it? Indecision gnawed at his brain, pulling him to and fro.

  He opened the front door, more annoyed by its squeak than usual. After the wedding, he'd have some things updated and repaired around the house. After the wedding… when he would tell his wife the truth. It would all work out. It just had to.

  ****

  Sasha angled her head away from the mirror and glanced at Maryann. Fondness filled her heart at the sight of the older woman. Surely she was a mother, the way she took such loving care of her. "I've always wondered, do you… have a family?"

  The maid shook her head, her lace cap swishing against her collar. "No, your grace. I did, long ago, but my husband and daughter were taken by illness. She was not much younger than you."

  Sasha bit her lip, now wishing she hadn't brought up a subject that caused such heartache for Maryann. "I'm so sorry. I understand what it's like, after losing Samuel. Does the pain in your heart ever cease?"

  "The pain lessens, in time. Much time. 'Tis agony, losing a family member, that's for sure. It took me many years to even be able to speak of it. I lost them both within a few days of each other. I tended to them the best I could, but it was no use. Death took them anyway. Then I was alone. I often think it's why his grace always seemed so lost and sad." She tilted her head. "Until you came along."

  "What do you mean? Because he lost his parents?"

  She nodded. "Yes. And Agatha."

  "Who is Agatha?" Sasha frowned. Had Garrett had a true love in the past? Jealousy clutched at her heart. She'd not heard him speak of another love, but then would he have told her?

  Maryann clasped her hands together in front of her as her face reddened. "Oh, he didn't tell you? Maybe he didn't want to upset you after the loss of your brother." She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry if I'm overstepping by saying something out of turn."

  "No, no, it's fine, Maryann. I asked you about it. And it's not as if you knew I hadn't heard." Sasha was torn between wanting to hear the details and wanting to run and hide from them. If it was about another love of Garrett's, maybe it was best to hear about it now.

  Maryann nodded and let out a breath. "Agatha was his younger sister. She ran away, lured by a handsome, rich man who said he loved her."

  Sasha widened her eyes, relieved it wasn't what she'd thought, then ashamed for her assumptions. To think poor Garrett had lost a sibling to death as well! "What happened?"

  "He never intended to wed her. He took her to his home and forced her into servitude. Then… he killed her."

  Sasha gasped, tightening her hands into fists at her sides, wanting to hurt the man who'd done this to Garrett's sister. "How horrible! The poor girl. But what happened to the man who did this to her? Was he punished?"

  "His grace tried to find him, but never could. He tried for months and spent much money and time, but to no avail. Apparently the man disappeared after he killed Agatha. The police questioned his household, but the man was never to be found. Her body was found in the well on this very property. No one knows why the man brought her back. His grace was the one who… found her. I'll never forget the look on his face when he returned to the house that day. He appeared sad and angry all at once. It was two days before he spoke of it to anyone. She's buried a half-mile from here, in the far pasture, along with their parents."

  The blood drained from Sasha's face as if someone had released a river from the confines of its banks. He'd found her in the well? She reached behind her to grab the chair and nearly fell into it. Darkness crept into her mind, forcing her to relive her own confinement below the earth. Cold. Fear. Pain.

  Maryann widened her eyes. "Your grace? Are you well? Maybe I shouldn't have told you, after all." She wrenched her hands together.

  "It's just… so horrible, so h-heartbreaking." Her mouth had gone dry. She swallowed hard, trying to create some moisture. How had Garrett had the presence of mind to rescue her from the same well in which he'd found his own sister? It must have been torture for him, being there, remembering Agatha.

  "Yes. It is." She put her hand on Sasha's shoulder, her grip tight, until Sasha had righted herself in the chair. "You sit there until it passes, your grace. Won't do you any good to become ill so soon before the wedding."

  Sasha had never told anyone about how Garrett had rescued her from the well. Not even Maryann. She trusted the woman, but didn't want to put her into a position of having to keep the secret if authorities ever found out in some way and questioned her. No, it was safer to keep the secret between her and Garrett. She knew he would protect her, but her distrust of any contact with the authorities left her unsettled. Fear of debtor's prison still plagued her. And if they could not even find one fiendish murderer, how could she trust they would not do something to her as well?

  A glance in the mirror told Sasha some color was returning to her face. At first glance she'd been deathly pale. Now, some pink was again on her cheeks. The news brought both her own trouble in the well and her brother's death to the forefront. How terrible for Garrett. But why hadn't he told her?

  ****

  Garrett entered his study and widened his eyes. Sasha was there. The last time that had happened without him carrying her down, his brother had done it. "Sasha, how…?" Had Lucien returned? He clenched his hands into fists. Brother or not, Garrett would beat him to a pulp if he ever laid a hand on Sasha again.

  Sasha grinned. "My ankle is so much better. It still hurts, but it's not as sore as it was. I was careful, Garrett, and I held onto Maryann's arm the whole time."

  Garrett took a deep breath. "Thank goodness you're well." And thank goodness it hadn't been Lucien who had done it. If Lucien showed up again, Garrett would—

  Sasha lowered her gaze to her hands, which were folded in her lap. "I need to ask you something."

  "Of course, darling, what is it?"

  "I have found there is something you have not told me. Something quite important… about family."

  Garrett's heartbeat raced, pounding painfully in his chest. His mouth went dry. How could she know? He had just found out himself about who killed Samuel. "Oh, I-I'm… so sorry."

  "You should have told me. I'm to be your wife. We should share everything." A tear slowly traveled down her cheek.

  Garrett clenched his teeth. At least the news was out. But who had told her? "Yes, of course, you're right."

  She smoothed the blue fabric of her dress and gazed up at him. "Poor Agatha. Now I understand why you always seemed so upset when we spoke of my brother."

  He held in a gasp. She doesn't know. Relief swept over him. Sweat pooled beneath his arms and above his upper lip. He crossed the room and plopped down beside Sasha on the settee, glad to have something to support his weakened state.

  She took one of his hands in both of hers. "You've gone pale. Is it because I mentioned—"

  "Agatha, yes." She doesn't know!

  "Why didn't you tell me? I want to be here for you no matter what happens. If you're sad abo
ut your sister, you can tell me."

  He nodded, his breathing slowing to a natural rhythm. "How did you find out?"

  "Maryann."

  He frowned. "But—"

  Sasha leaned forward, lowering her voice even though they were alone in the room. "Please don't be upset with her. She assumed I knew and didn't realize she was telling me something I was unaware of."

  He patted her hand with his. "I won't say anything to her, Sasha. I know how fond you are of her."

  Sasha grinned. "I am. Oh, I am. I've come to think of her as family."

  "Then I shall as well."

  She leaned forward and hugged him. When she pulled away, he took her face in his hands. "Ah, my beautiful Sasha. I cannot wait to marry you." He pressed his lips to hers, soft and sweet. Warmth flowed through his midsection and below.

  Sasha pressed her body closer to his, grasping his coat front tightly. A moan came from somewhere. Was it from him or her? Someone cleared his or her throat. Who…? It wasn't him or Sasha who'd made the noise. So that means…

  He ended the kiss much sooner than he'd intended and pulled away from Sasha. Glancing toward the door, he frowned. He had no doubt he'd closed it when he'd entered. It now was open. Lady Johnsing stood, staring at them.

  Garrett had a mind to punch her, friend of his mother or not.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sasha gazed at the woman in the mirror. The reflection was that of a stranger, yet it was she. The transformation from the poor, thin girl she had been to a… princess… took her breath away. Maryann had taken such care, such love in preparing Sasha for her wedding ceremony.

  The dress had been altered to fit Sasha's small figure. Her hair was swirled and piled atop her head, with just a few wavy tendrils hanging down around her ears beneath the veil. And Maryann had given her an old lacey blue handkerchief of her mother's for Sasha to carry.

  Surely her own mother could not have done any better to prepare her for this moment, although Sasha wished with everything in her that her parents and brother could be there with her on her most special day.

  "There now, your grace, don't cry." Maryann dabbed tears with a plain white handkerchief from Sasha's face, tears Sasha hadn't even realized were there.

  Sasha sighed. "I'm just so happy, Maryann. This seems all a dream."

  "But 'tis real, your grace."

  "You cannot address me as 'your grace'. I am not yet a duchess. What if someone were to overhear?" Sasha lifted one corner of her mouth. Although not official, 'your grace' comfortably rolled from her lips.

  Maryann smoothed Sasha's veil around her face. "You are to me, your grace." She hugged Sasha carefully. Was she trying to not wrinkle the dress? A maid would not, of course, normally be so familiar with her mistress, yet she and Sasha had formed a bond as strong as family.

  "Thank you for all you've done to get me ready for today."

  "'Twas my joy, your grace." Maryann exited the room without a sound.

  Sasha fingered the satin material of the long sleeves. Her wedding. She could hardly believe it. Garrett was more than she'd ever dreamed possible in a husband. Not that she'd been sure she would ever marry at all. Women of her level had nothing to offer a man by way of dowry or status. Her thought had always been that, if she were to marry, it would be someone of the working class. A man who perhaps worked in a butcher shop or a manufactory. But now…

  And best of all, Garrett would never lie to her. She'd never feel helpless, not like Samuel had made her feel.

  A deep sigh escaped her lips. A queen on her coronation day could not feel more special than she did right then. Was this a dream? She blinked back tears, both happy for the day and sad her parents and brother couldn't rejoice with her. Oh, that her family could meet Garrett, that they could be part of her life now. But that was not meant to be.

  Would she ever know who had taken Samuel's life? Garrett had offered to search for the person responsible, but Sasha was not able to discuss it. It hurt too much, the pain too raw from the recent loss. Maybe someday… maybe after she and Garrett were settled into their married life and some time had passed, she'd be up to helping search for the murderer.

  She glanced down at the floor. Not that it would return her brother. Nothing could do that. And nothing would ever be the same for her now. She angled her head toward the mirror. A sad smile crossed her lips at the sight of herself, a poor girl without family, dressed as she was in the finest clothing and ready to wed a duke. Yes, she'd lost Samuel, but she was gaining Garrett. Surely she was most fortunate, indeed.

  A knock on the door signaled the wedding was about to begin. Checking her reflection one last time, Sasha whispered into the empty room, "All right, Sasha girl, it's time to marry your duke."

  ****

  Garrett paced at the front of the chapel, his every nerve tingling. He wanted this more than anything. Why am I anxious?

  "'Tis common, your grace," said the vicar in a low whisper. "Worry not… It will all be fine."

  Garrett glanced at the older man and whispered back, "Thank you, Vicar. I'm most happy to wed Miss Douglas. I'm just—"

  The vicar patted Garrett on the shoulder. "I know. I've never met a groom yet who wasn't at least a little nervous."

  Garrett relaxed. Yes, it would be fine. He was marrying a woman he adored. A sudden fierce protectiveness toward Sasha enveloped him. She would be his wife and he would protect her from all ills. His love for her would know no bounds.

  The music began, signaling Sasha's arrival. Guests murmured to one another as the rear doors to the chapel opened and the bride stood ready to walk down the aisle. Garrett knew that some guests would never approve of Sasha as his wife because she was not wealthy and of proper standing. It mattered not to him. He loved her. If it meant never sharing company with those people again, Garrett was ready for that. Sasha was his life from now on.

  As she approached, Garrett's mouth went dry. Sasha was even lovelier in her wedding finery than he could have imagined. But how was it possible? For she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever met, even when he'd found her in the well, dirty and waiflike.

  Since Sasha had no living relatives, a distant cousin of Garrett's walked her down the aisle. Garrett wished it were

  Sasha got closer. Garrett saw the tears that brimmed in her eyes beneath the veil. Were they of joy? Or was she, too, wishing Samuel were the one walking next to her? He vowed in his heart that he would bring her only joy from this day forward. Nothing would mar her life once they were wed. Garrett clasped his hands together, eager to get through the ceremony so he could legally have Sasha for his own. And after the ceremony and breakfast… the wedding night. Heat seared his stomach and lower. Better to hold off those thoughts for now. His face heated, surely blushed.

  Garrett's cousin Loomis raised the corners of his mouth and bowed to Sasha before he took his seat near the front of the chapel. Garrett and Sasha stood together in front of the vicar. Garrett couldn't help sneaking glances at his bride. How had he come to be so fortunate as to be marrying a sweet, wonderful woman such as she?

  The vicar droned on about men, women, and the responsibilities of marriage. Couldn't the man speak any faster? Surely Garrett would expire before the end of the ceremony. Next came several passages of scripture and admonitions of having and caring for children. Yes, yes, fine to all of that. Please hurry! The musicians then played three hymns, four verses each. Slowly. Surely Garrett would have aged a year before it was all through.

  Garrett and Sasha lit candles of unity and faith, taking care not to get Sasha's long, lacy sleeve in the flame. Standing once again in front of the vicar, they now had reached the time to say their vows. Garrett repeated his, strong and sure. He wanted everyone to know how much he wanted to marry Sasha. There would be no doubt to anyone there that he loved her with all his heart.

  When she repeated her vows, her voice was so soft, Garrett had to lean in for her replies to the vicar's questions. Her breath whispered across his cheek. The vica
r, too, leaned in. Was Sasha frightened? Had she changed her mind about marrying him and was unsure about saying her vows? He glanced down. Sasha's hands trembled.

  Garrett lowered his eyebrows. He silently pleaded with Sasha to go through with the wedding. To love him as much as he loved her. To—

  Sasha finished her vows. She glanced up at Garrett, lifting the corners of her mouth. Garrett knew at that moment that what was in her eyes was indeed love. The poor girl must have just been nervous, as he had. And who could blame her? He darted a quick glance around the chapel. Every person there sat on the edge of his or her seat. Had they wondered if she'd even said her vows, if they couldn't hear her?

  A movement in the second row caught Garrett's eye. Lady Johnsing sat, nodding and looking smug. Well, she could be smug for the rest of her days for all Garrett cared. He might even have to thank her, for her interference had brought them here this special day.

  The vicar cleared his throat. "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." Garrett sensed every person in the chapel holding his or her breath in anticipation. He lifted Sasha's veil and sighed. It was done. She was now his wife. As he leaned down to kiss her, she closed her eyes, her long eyelashes brushing her pink cheek. A chaste touching of his lips to hers was all he would do for the people watching. But later… yes, later… he would kiss Sasha senseless. And more.

  He pulled away a slight bit and winked at Sasha. She smiled. He reached for her hand as they descended the steps near the altar. They could not look away from each other as they walked back up the aisle. It was a miracle they didn't trip over Sasha's train.

  The bride and groom retired to the vestry, where the vicar recorded their marriage into the registry and handed Sasha her marriage lines. Now it was official. Legal. She was Garrett's wife.

  Wedding guests passed in front of them in a line, murmuring the expected words of congratulations and wishes of joy. Garrett could tell, however, many of them were insincere. He glanced at Sasha. She knew it as well, but held herself tall and steady with grace and poise. He'd never been prouder of anyone. Right at that moment, their love could conquer any problem thrown their way.

 

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