To Protect and to Cherish

by Becky Riker

  Trent’s brow lowered, “You’ll not take them at all.”

  “I have no qualms about exposing you to the realm, Trent,” he began to leave but then turned back, “I almost forgot. Miss Trent will be joining my sister and her husband until the day of the wedding.”

  “This is an outrage!” the man’s face had regained its natural color and then some. “You are kidnapping my niece. I will alert the constable.”

  “Do,” Slade spoke as he walked away, “but be aware he is my steward’s son.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “Madam,” Slade spoke to the woman who was clearly the housekeeper, “I would have a word with you.”

  “Yes, your grace.”

  He had a list for the woman, and he hoped she was equal to the task.

  “I need an inventory of all the items that are to be included in Miss Trent’s dowry. My solicitor will be here tomorrow to write the contract. After your master signs the contract, I would desire you to gather those items and prepare them for removal to Blackbourne.”

  She nodded, “And when shall they be ready?”

  “As soon as the license is received. Today, I need you to use as much staff as necessary to pack Miss Trent for her move.”

  “Her move?”

  “She will be leaving her uncle’s house today.”

  The housekeeper looked scandalized.

  “She is to stay with my sister until the wedding.”

  The housekeeper smiled, “I will go to her immediately, sir.”

  “One more thing,” he stopped her. “She will be bringing her lady’s maid and two kitchen staff with her.”

  The lady cocked her head, “The O’toole girls, my lord?”

  “Yes,” he was not surprised the woman had surmised what was happening. “They are to leave in the carriage with her. Not a one of them must be left behind.”

  The lady’s smile grew, “Very good, sir.”

  Jililan was looking for a way to wear her hair that would cover the bruise on her neck as well as the one on her cheek. There was certainly nothing to be done about the one on her eye. Thankfully, that one was the oldest and would fade soon.

  A knock sounded on her door as she drew the hair back down over her shoulder.

  “Come in.”

  “Miss Trent,” the housekeeper had three maids with her, “I am to help you pack.”

  “Pack?” she didn’t understand what Mrs. Kern was talking about, but three men came in carrying trunks.

  The woman directed them to set the cases down in the middle of the floor.

  “Where am I going?” she rose and crossed the room.

  “You will be visiting Sir Anthony and Lady Amelia.”

  Jillian raised her eyebrows, “Has my uncle decided to send me away?”

  “No, the duke wants you to meet his family before the wedding.”

  “So there is to be a wedding after all,” she dropped to the bed.

  Mrs. Kern smiled, “Of course.”

  Jillian licked her lips and glanced over at Erin who had taken the lead in packing, “And Erin?”

  Mrs. Kern mimicked the soft tone, “She and her sisters have found themselves new positions at Blackbourne.”

  “He did this,” she breathed.

  “He must love you very much,” the older woman patted her hand. “What I can’t figure is when you met him. I am sure he has never come here before.”

  Erin was sent from Jillian’s room to fetch her sisters and do her own packing.

  The housekeeper left as well to see to the normal workings of the house.

  She arrived as the maids were finishing all the packing.

  “His grace has sent a wagon for the luggage and a carriage for you and for your maids.”

  Jillian looked around her, “My mother’s things.”

  “Will be sent shortly,” the housekeeper assured her.

  Jillian smiled and started for the front door.

  “Jillian,” her uncle’s voice stopped her, “I must speak with you in the study before you leave.”

  She swallowed her fear and walked after him. He was closing the door behind her when a hand shot up to prevent the action.

  Horace glared at the owner of the hand – a stranger, “Who are you, and what do you think you are doing in here?”

  “I am Gage Easton,” he moved further into the doorway. “I have been instructed to bring Miss Trent safely to her new home.”

  Horace looked the man up and down.

  “My orders are to prevent you from spending any time alone with your niece.”

  “Preposterous,” he grumbled. “This is my own house.”

  Easton didn’t respond.

  Horace stepped into the corridor, “You, there,” he pointed to a man carrying a trunk, “remove this man.”

  The man with the trunk looked from Trent to Easton, “But, sir, he is my employer.”

  Horace turned red, “Have all my staff gone missing?”

  Mrs. Kern appeared by his side, “How can I help you, sir?”

  Jillian had to smile at the thought of the diminutive lady overtaking the men who now traipsed through the house.

  She slipped by her uncle, unnoticed. He was still running about in search of someone to come to his aid when she bid his staff goodbye and climbed into the carriage.

  Slade was not at his sister’s house when Jillian arrived, but she did not expect him to be.

  “Lady Amelia,” Easton looked to the woman, “this is Miss Trent, your brother’s betrothed.”

  “Miss Trent, Lady Amelia Geary.”

  Lady Amelia smiled and nodded, “Please join us in the parlor.”

  “I was surprised,” she began as soon as they took their seats, “with the contents of my brother’s letter.”

  Jillian hoped the surprise was not too distasteful, “I am afraid the whole day has been quite astonishing to me as well.”

  Lady Amelia pressed her lips into a smiled, “Slade is not typically a rash man. He tends to think things over – sometimes for too long.”

  Jillian wished she could assure the woman that there were extenuating circumstances, but to do so would open up all involved to censure.

  “I do not know what my husband will think when he arrives home.”

  Jillian had no answer for that.

  “You seem to have injured your face, Miss Trent. How did it happen? Are you a horsewoman?”

  Jillian knew a fall off a charging animal could explain the myriad of bruises, but she would not lie about it.

  “I used to ride often,” she changed the subject instead. “Sometimes more than once a day. There is great freedom in being on an animal that moves so swiftly.”

  “I’m terrified of them,” Lady Amelia responded. “Much to Slade and Anthony’s disappointment.”

  It hadn’t occurred to Jillian before, but now she wondered if there was a possibility that she would be allowed to ride again. Uncle Horace had not wanted to replace the mare she lost when she was fifteen, and none of the other horses were suitable for riding.

  “Slade said you were going to stay with us for three to seven days,” the lady began a new subject. “will you be going back to your uncle’s house then?”

  Jillian shook her head, “I do not believe I will.”

  Lady Amelia frowned, “Is there a problem there?”

  “I believe Lord Ashley prefers I remain where he can watch me."

  “For your entire engagement?” Jillian noticed that her betrothed’s sister was becoming increasingly more agitated.

  “Lady Amelia,” she determined to tell the truth as much as it depended on her, “I am afraid there are things I am not at liberty to discuss. Perhaps I should talk to Lord Ashley, and he can tell me what he wishes to divulge.”

  Amelia seemed to relax at that, “Why did Slade go to town today? Why not stay to introduce you to us?”

  “My uncle’s housekeeper told me he went to get a special license.”

  “From London?” she sat still mo
re erect, “that is nearly twenty miles.”

  Jillian’s smile was somewhat weak.

  “Does he intend to marry you directly upon his return?”

  “He did not discuss his plans with me.”

  Amelia sat back again, “You are very accepting of your fate – whatever it may be.”

  Jillian did not feel the statement required an answer.

  “Perhaps it is a great inducement – the prospect of wealth and title.”

  “It was neither that induced me to marry your brother,” Jillian felt the need to defend herself just a bit.

  “So, you are in love with him?”

  “I admit I scarcely know the man. He did me a great service some time ago, but, though I was grateful, I cannot say I felt any stirrings of love.”

  She frowned, “Why are you marrying him?”

  Jillian inhaled slowly through her nose, “He gave me no choice. Though I protested, he would insist. I do not pretend to know if this is a common trait for him, but he was quite determined.”

  Lady Amelia grimaced, “That is very like him. He is like a dog with his bone.”

  Jillian surprised herself and the lady of the house by laughing, “That is flattering to neither of us.”

  Amelia joined in the laughter, “I suppose the question should be, ‘Why does my brother want to marry you?’”

  Jillian didn’t know how to answer that.

  “You are lovely, but so are many of the women who vie for his attention.”

  The lady tapped a fingertip to her lips, “I cannot see that he would do this without some motivation. You are not an heiress?”

  Jillian was disturbed by this picture, “Would that affect him?”

  “I have never known it to draw his attention,” she quirked her head, “a relative of the king?”

  Jillian smiled and shook her head.

  “I can see nothing to motivate him but love,” Lady Amelia came to the most romantic answer possible.

  Jillian chuckled, “We hardly know each other.”

  The other woman leaned forward, “What is your explanation then?”

  “Lady Amelia,” she began.

  “Please, call me Amy. If you are going to be unraveling this mystery, I feel we should address each other less formally.”

  Jillian laughed again, “I have nothing to tell you. Perhaps your brother felt it was time to marry.”

  The elegant, perfectly styled lady omitted a rather indelicate snort.

  “Amy,” a man came through the door.

  Jillian was relieved she did not have to answer the woman’s questions any longer.

  “Anthony,” Amy rose and reached out to the man before her, “we have had an exciting morning.”

  He glanced at Jillian before returning his gaze to his wife, “I beg your pardon. I was not aware you had company.”

  “Miss Trent, this is my husband Sir Anthony Geary. Anthony, this is Miss Jillian Trent – Slade’s intended bride.”

  Anthony began to bow at the introduction, but quickly straightened to a ramrod, “His bride?”

  Amy laughed, “Not yet, but very soon. She will be staying with us until the wedding occurs.”

  Anthony seemed incapable of speech.

  Amy sat back down on the setee, leaving enough space for her husband to join her.

  “I do not mean to be so. . .surprised,” he sputtered, “I confess I did not expect anything like this.”

  “Neither did I, Sir Anthony,” she admitted.

  “I rode with Slade to the club this morning. He never said anything about it.”

  “I do not doubt that. I believe the decision was made in a moment – and that moment was around the noon hour.”

  He shook his head in amazement.

  “We should begin to ready ourselves for dinner,” Lady Amelia looked at their guest. “You must be very tired and I have detained you in here with my conversation.”

  “I have enjoyed it,” Jillian was in earnest.

  The lady led her to a chamber that was not opulent, but had a certain simple beauty.

  “If you need anything, please let me know. I believe your maid is in the dressing room.”

  “Miss,” Erin came from that direction after Lady Amelia left, “shall I help you dress?”

  “Please,” she did not tell the girl what she wanted to wear. Erin would choose something appropriate.

  During the meal the couple continued to pepper Jillian with questions she could not answer. Anthony had so gotten over his shock that he was able to reintroduce a topic Jillian would have preferred to let lie.

  “How did you injure yourself?”

  She had been afraid the simple hairstyle was going to draw more attention to the bruising. She was right.

  “I beg your pardon, sir. It pains me to be rude – especially after your great hospitality to me – but that is a question I prefer not to answer.”

  He grinned, “I do not consider it rude, Miss Trent. Please forgive my rudeness in asking.”

  She shook her head, “There is nothing to forgive, sir.”

  Jillian retired quite early and did not awaken at her normal hour.

  By the time she was dressed for the day, it was mid-morning.

  “I wondered when you were going to make an appearance,” Amy was in the garden, “I hope you did not have difficulty sleeping. I always do in a strange bed.”

  “I did not. Indeed, I have not slept so well in a week.”

  Amy smiled and patted the seat beside her, “Come visit with me. I feel we need to share some secrets before we become sisters – even if they are not secrets about my brother.”

  As if he had heard his sister calling to him, the maid announced the young duke’s arrival.

  “Ah, there you are, Amy, Miss Trent.”

  Amy rose, “I see our tale-telling will have to wait.”

  Slade raised an eyebrow, but his sister scampered off without a word.

  “Lord Ashley,” she rose and tipped her head toward him, “I trust you had a pleasant journey.”

  “It was more pleasant on the way back because I knew I had accomplished what I had set forth to do.”

  She tried not to sigh. Obtaining the license meant there was no turning back.

  He smiled at her, “I heard that sigh, Miss Trent. You were hoping there would be an impediment.”

  She smiled at being caught out, “I fear you are entering into this marriage with too little thought, sir.”

  “I wish you would call me Slade,” he interrupted her.

  She was not to be stopped, “Your sister is quite concerned about why you are doing this. I do not know what to tell her.”

  “You are lovely,” he said simply. “Plenty of men have married for that reason alone.”

  Jillian could not stop the blush at his words, but she continued her reasoning, “But you have not, and you have had plenty of opportunities to do so.”

  “What makes you think this?”

  “Your sister told me.”

  “You are also compassionate. I saw how you fought to get help for your friends – in Southam and here as well. You would have sacrificed everything for their safety.”

  She shook her head, “That will not do either, sir.”

  “Slade,” he corrected.

  She ignored him, “Many people have great compassion.”

  “You set aside a life of wealth to go work in a tailor’s shop. You began a seven mile walk in the heat of summer. I believe you are a hard worker.”

  “This flattery to me will not help you explain the situation to your sister or anybody else.”

  He took her hands, “Then I will tell them I found the woman best suited to me. There can be no argument from them.”

  Jillian’s heart beat hard against her rib cage. She felt the warmth of his hand spread to the rest of her being.

  “Are you convinced?” he pulled her a bit closer, his voice dropping an octave.

  “I . . .I think I am,” she whispered.

&n
bsp; He brought her fingers slowly to his lips and brushed a soft kiss there, his eyes never leaving hers.

  The wedding was three days later. Her uncle was invited and came, but he did not speak to her. She was unsurprised by the first and grateful for the latter.

  “I would like to take you on a proper honeymoon,” Slade informed her as they travelled back to his home, “but the harvest is a difficult time to get away.”

  She did not look at him, keeping her eyes, instead, on their joined hands, “I believe waiting is a good idea,” she swallowed before continuing, “Perhaps it would be best to get to know each other in brief moments during your normal life. It would be difficult to embark on a long journey with someone you hardly knew.”

  “Jillian,” it was only the second time he had called her thus, “I am not going to pressure you to do that which is . . . uncomfortable.”

  The sincerity in his voice caused her to look up.

  “We will get to know each other during the next few weeks and months. It will be our courting period.”

  She laughed softly, “I think we have it backward.”

  “Perhaps,” he squeezed her fingers gently, “but it is too late to change that now.”

  She looked up at his face and wondered how she had been so blessed to have had this man find her.

  “Slade,” she forced herself to use his Christian name, “I do not believe I ever thanked you for your great kindness.”

  “In taking you to Banbury? You did.”

  She laughed, “Not that,” she turned serious. “I think you saved my life.”

  He regarded her with an appearance of something that looked like regret, “I believe I was the one that endangered it, Jillian. I could do nothing else.”

  Jillian opened her mouth to tell him yet again that her uncle’s behavior had nothing to do with him, but he stopped her.

  “Truthfully, I could not stop thinking of you. I did not believe you had come from trade roots – that you had grown up among shopkeepers.”

  A frown puckered her forehead, “I think I am offended. I tried very hard to do my part and learn the trade.”

  He chuckled, “And I am certain you did very well, my love, but your speech was too perfect and your bearing too elegant for one who had not received training.”