The vicar raised a brow but continued.
“You’re not going to give me any opportunity to make this right are you?” Daniel’s voice was low and tinged with anger. He certainly had no right to be angry.
“Not today.”
“Mr. Sinclair?” the vicar said. “It’s your turn.”
“I do too,” Daniel snapped.
“I never doubted otherwise,” the vicar murmured and continued.
“You wanted to ruin me,” Daniel said in a low voice for her alone.
“Why not?” She clenched her jaw. “You ruined me.”
“One might say you ruined yourself.”
“With your help!”
“Ring!” The vicar’s voice rose. “I assume there’s a ring.”
“I have it.” Daniel grabbed her hand and shoved an emerald encrusted band on her finger. It was perfect, exactly what she would have wanted, or would have under other circumstances.
She stared at it. “Where did you get this?”
“It was my mother’s.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “Do you carry it around with you in the off chance you find an heiress to marry?”
A groan sounded from the gathering behind them.
“No.” He gritted his teeth. “My father had it.”
“How very convenient!”
His eyes narrowed. “Not really.”
“You are now man and wife!” The vicar glared at them. “Although it is not required, often at this point a kiss is exchanged. I assume you’ll forgo that.”
“Absolutely,” Daniel said.
“I’d rather die,” Cordelia said at the same time.
“Very well then.” The vicar snapped his prayer book closed. “And may God have mercy on you both. You’re going to need it.” With that he stalked from the room.
“And a grand time was had by all,” the countess murmured.
Cordelia turned toward her father. “It that it then? Is everything signed and in order?”
Father nodded.
“There is a lovely breakfast prepared in the dining room,” Mother said brightly.
“You do realize I’m leaving today,” Daniel said quietly. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
She met his gaze firmly. “I’m certain I’ll be able to bravely carry on.”
His jaw tightened. “I have arranged for a solicitor here to take care of anything you might need.”
“How very thoughtful of you.”
He stared at her for a long moment and she saw genuine regret in his dark eyes and something that might have been sorrow. And for an instant she wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms and wasn’t sure why she didn’t. He nodded in a curt manner. “Good day then, Cordelia.”
“Good day.” There was an awful ache at the back of her throat and she knew if she remained here one second longer her resolve would shatter. She nodded, turned, and swept from the room.
“Breakfast,” her mother’s hopeful voice called after her.
Cordelia didn’t so much as pause until she had reached her room and shut the door behind her. The enormity of what she had done washed through her. She had just married the man she loved and she was about to let him sail out of her life.
Why? Because she was angry? Because she was hurt? Because he had wounded her pride? She sniffed back tears. For a woman everyone considered intelligent, she apparently wasn’t the least bit clever when it came to matters of the heart. All she really knew was that her heart had broken.
She crossed to the window and gazed out. Below her on the street, Daniel and Mr. Lewis entered a carriage. She recalled the look in his eyes. Had his heart broken as well?
She watched his carriage drive off and her breath caught. She might just have made the biggest mistake of her life.
Did it truly matter what he’d done or why? Or what she’d done? Neither of them were blameless. Perhaps the only thing that mattered was that in spite of fathers and deception and heretofore unknown inheritances, they had found one another.
She stepped to her dressing table and picked up the letter that had lain there since yesterday. Cordelia drew a deep breath, unfolded it and began to read.
Chapter 17
My dearest Cordelia,
I may have forfeited the right to call you my dearest and yet I refuse to forfeit hope as well. I understand your anger. The revelation of your inheritance coupled with my need for funds is more than enough to condemn even the most innocent of men. And I am certainly not among them.
But know this, Cordelia, I loved you when I knew you as Sarah, when I thought you were penniless. The worst moment of my life was when I realized my financial circumstances meant I could not be with the woman who had stolen my heart. The very best moment was discovering the woman I had to marry and the woman I wanted to marry were one and the same.
I should have told you everything at once but the longer I allowed things to continue, the more I feared my mistakes in judgment would cost me what I wanted most. You, by my side, as my wife for the rest of my days. I hope someday you will forgive me.
You told me you loved me when I was using another man’s name and I know now that was said to teach me a lesson. It’s one I have learned, dear Cordelia. But, regardless of the circumstances, I believe that you did mean those words. Because I cannot believe that what my heart feels is not shared. The enormity of it is not enough for one person. Surely my heart is not alone?
Tomorrow we will become man and wife and of necessity I must return home. I regret that I have no choice. It is my fervent prayer that you will choose to accompany me. If not, however, you must know without question or doubt, I will return.
Regardless of whether we are separated by an ocean or our own foolish mistakes I will forever remain,
Yours,
Daniel
“It was a lovely ceremony,” Warren said in an idle manner, his gaze fixed on the ship they were about to board. It was the first time either man had mentioned the wedding since they had left Cordelia’s house this morning.
“There was nothing lovely about it.” Daniel shrugged. “With the possible exception of the bride. Her eyes flash when she’s angry.”
“They must have been flashing a great deal.”
“She has a temper, you know.”
“She hides it well,” Warren murmured.
“And she’s quite stubborn.”
“I never would have suspected.”
Daniel slanted a glance at his friend. “I can be rather stubborn on occasion.”
Warren gasped in mock surprise. “Surely not.”
“And my temper might, on occasion, be somewhat quick.”
“Yours?” Warren scoffed. “Hard to believe.”
Daniel blew a long breath. “I love her, Warren.”
“And therein lies the problem and not the only one.” Warren paused. “Might I ask why we’ve been standing here staring at this ship for a good quarter of an hour. It appears sound and seaworthy. Is there some reason why we haven’t boarded her?”
“Hope,” Daniel said simply.
“I see,” Warren murmured.
“It’s futile, I know, but there you have it.” Daniel glanced at his friend. “The moment I set foot on that ship, my fate is sealed.”
“Are you giving up?”
“Of course not. I am…retreating, as it were, temporarily. I fully intend to return as soon as I can but…” Daniel shook his head. “The more time we spend apart, the more time she has to realize she can easily live her life without me.”
“Or, what’s more likely, is that she’ll see she can’t live without you at all. Absence making the heart grow fonder and all that.”
“How can I go? How could she let me go?”
“You have no choice and she’s obviously mad,” Warren said with a somber shake of his head. “Mad as a hatter.”
Daniel laughed in spite of himself. “I suspect we both are.”
“I was going to say you are well suited.�
��
“If I didn’t have to leave…” Then what? It scarcely mattered, he did have to leave. They should have returned home weeks ago, although it would have been pointless. He didn’t have the funds he needed weeks ago.
“There’s another ship tomorrow, you know,” Warren said casually. “It advertises to make the voyage in a shorter time than this one. It would give you another day here.”
“A day is scarcely enough…”
A day is scarcely enough? What was he thinking? He’d managed to accomplish quite impressive achievements in the span of a single day. Why, he was poised at the threshold of becoming one of the most successful entrepreneurs of the century. A day, why he could do damn near anything in a day. Including win the heart of the woman he loved. And a day was certainly better than no time at all.
He stared at the other man. “Damnation, Warren, I should have thought of this myself.”
“You can’t expect to be your usual self. After all you are now a pathetic shell of a man.”
“No, a minute ago I was a pathetic shell of a man. Now I am a man of resolve and determination who clearly sees what must be done.”
“A man of vision?”
“Absolutely.” Daniel thought for a moment. “This is not a good way to start a marriage. She should know that.”
“Indeed she should.”
“She should understand as well that a wife should be by her husband’s side.”
“What’s the point of having a wife otherwise?”
Daniel nodded. “A husband needs to be with his wife to protect her and guide her and advise her.”
Warren winced. “I’m not sure that’s your best argument.” His gazed slipped past Daniel then back. The corners of his lips quirked upward with amusement. “You should work on that.”
“Probably.” Daniel drew his brows together. “It seems to me the best point, the one thing she can’t really debate, is the simple fact that I love her and I don’t want to be without her. Not for a minute, not for a day.”
“She should know that as well.”
“Indeed she should!”
“You should tell her.”
“Indeed I shall.” Determination swept through him. He would return to her house and make her listen to him. And this time, he absolutely would not allow her to ignore him or leave the room in a huff. No, if he had to, he’d tie her up and throw her on the ship. Two weeks at sea would make her listen to reason. To him.
“Now would be a good time.”
“Hah,” Daniel scoffed. “I’d say it’s past time for me to have a serious talk with my wife. And when you arrange passage on that other ship, arrange it for three.” Daniel turned on his heel, took a step, and pulled up short.
“I see I haven’t missed the ship.” Cordelia walked toward him in a leisurely manner, as if she were strolling along the promenade at Brighton. “It took a surprisingly long time to pack.”
A grin sounded in Warren’s voice behind Daniel. “I’ll go see to…the luggage or something.”
Daniel’s heart thudded in his chest but he forced a casual note to his voice. “What are you doing here?”
“I considered the situation, in a calm and rational manner, taking into account all the facts on both sides of the conflict as it were, and I decided it would be silly of me to pass up the opportunity to travel to America.” She shrugged. “I’ve never been there and it is on my list.”
“It’s a nice place to visit,” he said cautiously. Behind her, porters were unloading what appeared to be an endless stream of trunks and bags. “You have a great deal of luggage.”
“I anticipate being gone a long time. Permanently, in fact.”
“Do you?” The desire to grin in a most insane manner washed through him and he ignored it.
“Indeed I do.” She took a deep breath. “Your letters have improved a great deal since the first one.”
“Oh?”
“This last one was most…” She swallowed hard. “Romantic.”
“That was not my intent.”
“What was your intent?”
He studied her for a moment. “Honesty.”
“I see.” She paused to choose her words. “In the interest of honesty then, there may have been some misstatements on my part, lies if you will, and I believe I may owe you an apology.”
“For masquerading as someone else?”
“Of course not.” She sniffed. “That deception on my part was offset by yours.”
He raised a brow. “Therefore no apology is necessary?”
“I don’t think so.”
She was really quite remarkable. “Then you wish to apologize for making me believe you loved Warren?”
“Not at all,” she said in a lofty manner. “You deserved that, as I had given you every opportunity to confess. Besides, the only part of that evening that was a lie were the names used—as I do, well, love you.”
“I see.” And remarkably stubborn as well. “Then what precisely do you wish to apologize for?”
“When I said I never wanted to see you again, that was a lie and I do apologize for that.”
“Apology accepted.” He stifled a grin.
“When I said I could carry on without you.” She squared her shoulders and met his gaze firmly. “That was a lie as well. I’m fairly certain I can’t live so much as another day of my life without you.”
“Then you’re apologizing for that too?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Is there anything else?”
“A few minor things.” She stepped closer. “I didn’t really want you to be ruined. That was simply one of those things one says without thinking. I know how passionate you are about your railroads and while my comment might have been justifiable at that moment, it was very nearly unforgivable.”
“And yet.” He bit back a smile. “I will forgive it.”
She considered him carefully. “And obviously I lied when I said I wouldn’t accompany you to America.”
“I have never been more delighted to discover something I feared was true was a lie.”
The slightest hint of a smile curved the corners of her lips. “When I called you an ill-mannered, uncivilized twit—”
“Or an arrogant, pompous ass?”
“Yes, although they weren’t actually lies because I did mean them at the time and they did seem accurate, again at the time, however I admit I may have been wrong. So I do apologize for that too.”
“Is that it?”
“No, there’s one more thing.” She lifted her chin and gazed into his eyes. “When I said I would rather die than kiss you, that was definitely a lie. I would rather kiss you than do anything else in the world. Now, and for the rest of my life.”
“I see,” he murmured.
“Well?” Her green eyes flashed, this time with apprehension and…hope.
He smiled slowly and pulled her into his arms. “I have a great deal to apologize for as well.”
“Yes, you do.” The prim note in her voice belied the way she wrapped her arms around his neck. “And your letter was an excellent beginning. Furthermore, I intend to allow you to apologize every day from this day until the day you breathe your last.”
“Agreed.” He grinned.
“I think we should also agree as well that there will be no more secrets between us.”
“No secrets,” he murmured and bent his lips to hers.
She drew her head back and stared into his eyes. “Do not think of this as any sort of victory, Daniel.”
“But it is a victory, my dear, darling Cordelia.” His grin widened. “My victory.” His lips met hers. “And yours.”
And finally, gentle traveler, never forget that the destination of any journey is very nearly always worth the effort undertaken to get there.
An English Lady’s Traveling Companion
Epilogue
Three weeks later
Oliver sat in his usual chair at his usual table in the club he and his friends had long d
eclared their favorite and considered that he was quite alone. Oh, certainly, he had other friends but he’d shared a bond with the three who had filled the now-empty chairs at his table that he suspected would not come again. Even so, he chuckled to himself, it wasn’t as if they were dead, and he shouldn’t behave as if they were. They were simply married.
He toyed with the four coins that lay on the table. The club had held the shillings as well as the bottle of cognac for the winner of the tontine and today Oliver had claimed his prize. Still, a fine bottle like this was meant to be shared, not drunk alone by a man feeling a bit more melancholy than was warranted. Oliver signaled a waiter for another brandy. The cognac could wait.
There was no need to feel anything but pleased for his friends. After all, each had found a joy they had not expected and indeed Oliver was happy for them even if he realized he was more than a little envious at what they had found that he had not.
Regardless of the fact that he was now alone, there was a tradition to be maintained. Oliver rose to his feet, stepped up on the table, and wished he had had considerably more to drink than he’d had thus far this afternoon. He drew a deep breath and addressed the other club members.
“Gentlemen, I should like to propose a toast. To your feet, if you please.”
A low grumble passed through the sparse crowd but those present stood. The tontine had not been a secret.
“To Viscount Warton.” Oliver held up his glass. “Who found what he didn’t believe existed.”
“Hear, hear,” someone called.
“To Viscount Cavendish.” Oliver chuckled. “Who discovered the prize is sometimes worth the sacrifice.”
“To Cavendish,” the crowd echoed.
“And to Mr. Daniel Sinclair,” Oliver said with a grin. “Who learned if you’re very lucky, what you want will turn out to be exactly what you need.”
“And what of you, Norcroft?” a gentleman from a far table called.
“Me?” He stared at the other man. Well, why not? “You’re right, as the winner I deserve acknowledgment.” He raised his glass higher. “To the winner then, of a handful of coins and a fine bottle of cognac. For good or ill, whether I wished it or not, it seems I am indeed…” He grinned. “The last man standing.”
Secrets of a Proper Lady Page 29