I’ll only rest my eyes for a moment. But in less than a minute, she was dozing off. A frown knitted her brow, pulling her back from the edge of sleep. Something… something wasn’t quite right… in her vision… she’d been so certain she’d heard a gunshot…
But her tired brain couldn’t figure out what was niggling at her, and exhaustion overcame her.
Chapter 9
Caroline descended the stairs just after sunrise. Normally she did not arise so early, but the birds chattering outside her bedchamber window had awakened her and her thoughts were too full to go back to sleep. A long solitary walk was exactly what she needed to clear her mind. The instant she stepped outside onto the terrace leading to the gardens, however, a voice sounded behind her.
“Why, Caroline, what a surprise to see you up so early.”
Caroline bit her tongue to suppress a groan. Dash it, it was one of those infernal Digby daughters—Penelope or Prudence, judging by the high-pitched whine. Gritting her teeth, she turned.
Good heavens, it was worse than she’d suspected. Both girls stood before her. Penelope squinted at her through thick-lensed spectacles that magnified her eyes. She reminded Caroline of a bug. A bug with large teeth, three dozen bouncing sausage curls, and wearing a frilly bonnet.
Prudence stood beside her sister, her thin face pinched into a frown. She was currently engaged in her annoying habit of opening and closing her mouth without speaking, an unfortunate action that lent her a distinctly carplike air.
“Good morning, Penelope, Prudence,” Caroline said, forcing herself to smile.
“Are you going for a walk?” Penelope asked, tilting her head to one side, thus now resembling a lopsided bug.
“Yes.” Caroline realized there was no point in not inviting them to accompany her, for they would simply invite themselves. Somehow managing not to sigh, she asked, “Would you care to join me?”
“We’d love to,” Penelope said.
Prudence opened her mouth and the word “yes” popped out.
“’Tis fortunate we are awake so early to join you,” Penelope said, “as it appears you’re without a companion.”
“Indeed,” Caroline mumbled. “Fortunate is just the word I was searching for.”
They descended the steps and Caroline headed down a path leading toward the tower ruins. Penelope launched into an excruciatingly detailed description of her new wardrobe while Prudence remained thankfully silent. Caroline nodded occasionally and uttered noncommittal noises, but otherwise strove to pretend she was alone.
As the tower came into view, she recalled the many times she had climbed the crumbling stone steps, then pretended to be a damsel in distress so either William or Austin would rescue her. Sometimes Robert and Miles would join in their games as well, then she’d have four knights to save her from the perils of evil.
Miles. A breathy sigh puffed from her lips. It was better that she not think of Miles. He was the very reason she’d longed for a solitary walk—to try to force him from her mind. But it was an impossible task, even with Penelope’s nonstop stream of chatter to distract her. The man filled every corner of her mind, and every time she found herselfin the same room with him, her heart threatened to sputter to a stop.
She’d loved him since childhood, but there was a vast difference between loving him and being in love with him. And without a doubt she was in love with him.
She scolded herself, knowing it was hopeless to yearn for a man who regarded her only as his best friend’s baby sister, but no matter how many times she branded herself a fool, her heart would not listen.
The trail emerged from the forest and the tower ruins loomed ahead. Carefully picking their way over the stones, they’d nearly reached the tower when she heard a horse’s soft nicker.
Prudence opened her mouth and the word “horse” popped out.
“Yes,” Penelope agreed. “It sounded like it came from inside the tower.”
“Someone else is clearly out and about this morning,” Caroline murmured, wondering why anyone would bring their mount into the tower.
“What fun!” Penelope said. “Ohhh… perhaps it’s your brother, Caroline! Let’s say hello!”
Caroline barely withheld a groan. Dear God, if Austin was inside the tower and she foisted the Digby daughters on him, he was apt to succumb to apoplexy. She started to call out that they should walk in another direction, but clearly the possibility of coming upon the duke had spurred the Digbys into action. They dashed over the rocks like seasoned mountain goats.
Hiking up her skirts in a manner that would have horrified her mother, Caroline sped after them, but they reached the doorway well before her. Even from ten feet away, she heard Penelope’s gasp, and Prudence obviously opened and closed her mouth twice for she said, “Oh. My.”
Jostling them out of her way, Caroline entered through the open arched doorway. It took several seconds for her vision to adjust to the dim interior light. When it did, she, too, gasped.
Austin lay on the stone floor. His arms encircled Elizabeth, who lay on her side next to him, her head cushioned by his shoulder, her hand resting lightly on his chest.
Good Lord, they’d clearly stumbled upon an assignation between them. She should have been shocked. Outraged. On the verge of swooning.
Instead elation ran through her. She had no doubt that Elizabeth and Austin were perfect for each other, and judging by the scene before her, they’d discovered as much themselves.
Another soft nicker captured her attention. Tearing her gaze away from the sleeping couple, she saw Myst and Rosamunde standing in the shadows.
She stepped backward, determined to slip away unnoticed, and backed into a body.
“Ouch,” said Prudence.
Dear God, she’d forgotten about the Digby daughters.
Penelope elbowed her way forward and pointed. “Is that a bandage wrapped around his grace’s head? Why, I’d wager that the Colonial Upstart arranged this assignation, then coshed his grace in an attempt to make it appear he’d ruined her!” She muttered something else that sounded suspiciously like “Why didn’t I think of that?” but Caroline’s attention was riveted on Austin.
“Stay here,” she instructed the sisters. On silent feet, she moved closer. Yes, there most certainly was a bandage wrapped around Austin’s head. God in heaven, what had happened to him? Clearly he’d suffered an injury. Was Elizabeth hurt as well?
Pushing aside any possible embarrassment, she knelt beside Elizabeth and gently shook her shoulder. “Elizabeth, wake up.”
Elizabeth came awake slowly, gradually becoming aware of a voice repeating her name in an urgent fashion. She forced her heavy eyelids open a tiny bit. Her muscles were stiff and it seemed as if stones poked into her skin.
Her confusion disappeared instantly when she became aware of two things at once. She was curled up against Austin’s warm body, and a pair of surprise-widened blue eyes was staring at her.
Her eyes snapped open and she bolted upright, pushing her tangled hair from her face. “Caroline!”
“Elizabeth, what happened? Are you all right? Why is Austin’s head bandaged?”
“He fell from Myst.”
A derisive snort sounded from the doorway. Turning, Elizabeth saw two Digby daughters—she wasn’t sure which ones—standing in the archway. One squinted at her, the other gaped.
Caroline touched her arm, reclaiming her attention. “How badly is he hurt?”
“He hit his head and sustained a cut that required several stitches. As far as I was able to determine, he did not break any bones.”
Caroline’s face visibly paled. “My God. Are you injured?”
“No.” She reached out and touched Austin’s forehead and was relieved that he showed no signs of fever.
Fear flickered through Caroline’s expression. “He is going to be all right, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” In an attempt to calm Caroline’s fears, Elizabeth smiled at her. “Your brother has an exceptionally ha
rd head.”
“Indeed he does.” Caroline gathered her into her arms. “My God, Elizabeth. You saved Austin’s life. I’ll always be in your debt. Can I do anything to help?”
“You could start by removing your knee from my fingers,” came Austin’s raspy voice. “The last thing I need is one more aching body part.”
Caroline gasped and immediately moved back. “Austin. Are you all right?” Lifting his hand, she cradled it against her cheek.
“I’m a bit sore around the edges, but otherwise fine.” His eyes settled on Elizabeth.
She offered him a gentle smile. “You’re looking better.”
“I’m feeling better. Thanks to you.”
Their gazes met and held. Elizabeth longed to reach out and touch him, but controlled the impulse in front of Caroline and the Digby daughters. There was something in his eyes, something intense and compelling, but she couldn’t read the expression. Tearing her gaze from his, she stood and attempted to brush the twigs and dirt from her rumpled gown.
“Do you feel well enough to travel back to the house?” Caroline asked. “Shall I return to the house and bring help?”
Austin forced himself to give Caroline his full attention. When he did, the significance of her question hit him squarely between the eyes. “Help? God, no.” With an effort he pushed himself into a sitting position, then sat for a moment with his eyes closed, waiting for the waves of dizziness to pass. After a moment and a series of deep breaths, he felt considerably better.
“Surely you realize, Caroline, that you cannot bring anyone here. Elizabeth would be ruined. We need to get her back to the house before someone misses her or sees her looking so disheveled. Now. Before it’s too late.”
Caroline coughed into her hand, then inclined her head in a meaningful fashion toward the doorway.
With a sense of dread, Austin turned around. Two young women, one who resembled a bug wearing a bonnet and the other an open-mouthed carp, gaped at him.
He closed his eyes and groaned. In addition to their other faults, the Digby daughters had miserable timing.
He was getting married.
Austin sat in his private study and watched the door close behind his mother and Lady Penbroke. Lady Pen-broke was ecstatic, her feathers dancing and quivering with her excitement. His mother’s reaction to his news had been a bit more reserved, but he knew she understood his responsibility to marry Elizabeth and she respected his decision. She’d naturally hoped for him to marry a highborn English girl, but he had no doubt that she’d cope with the situation and do all she could to ease Elizabeth’s entrance into her new position. She and Lady Penbroke had agreed to make the necessary arrangements for the wedding. His only request was that they not tell anyone of their plans until he’d spoken to Elizabeth and formally announced their betrothal.
He ran a hand over his face, then leaned back in his chair. Marriage. He’d known the instant he’d seen the Digby daughters at the tower that he would have to marry Elizabeth. She’d saved his life and ruined herself in the process. Of course, both Digby daughters had vowed, ad nauseam, that they wouldn’t breathe a word of what they’d seen, and he supposed that was possible. After all, the idiotic chits didn’t want him off the marriage mart—unless it was to leg-shackle himself to one of them, a prospect that brought a shudder and had him reaching for his brandy. But their promised silence was not something he trusted.
Marriage. He’d avoided it for years. Yet, for reasons he could not decipher, he wasn’t distressed at the prospect. He realized a few eyebrows would be raised at his choice of an American for his duchess, but as she was the niece of an earl, he knew the ripple would quickly quiet.
In fact, he knew damn well that once the engagement was announced, the same people who now disparaged Miss Elizabeth Matthews, Colonial Upstart, would seek to gain the favor of the future Duchess of Bradford. Although the knowledge disgusted him, he couldn’t squelch the grim satisfaction that flowed through him. No one would dare utter another unkind word against her without incurring his wrath.
A series of mental pictures of Elizabeth rose before him. Elizabeth tumbling out of the bushes. Sleeping under the huge oak tree. Sketching him. Sliding off her horse. Covered in mud. Smiling. Laughing. Teasing.
A smile tugged at his lips. Although there was no denying this was a marriage of convenience to save her from ruin, he suspected he wouldn’t find married life boring.
And of course marriage would allow him to bed her. His pulse stirred at the very thought. He pictured her lying in his bed, her beautiful hair spread all around her, her arms reaching out for him. That part of his marriage would be very… pleasurable.
Now all he had to do was propose.
When Elizabeth entered his study late that afternoon in answer to his summons, Austin was amused by the thorough visual inspection she gave him.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, looking concerned. “You should be resting.”
“I’m fine, thanks to you.” He smiled at her and was rewarded with a delicate pink blush.
“Is your wound causing you any discomfort? I can mix you a remedy if it is.”
He recalled the last foul-tasting tisane she’d given him and barely suppressed a shudder. “It hardly hurts at all. That salve you prepared worked wonders.”
“I’m glad.” Her gaze scanned his face, then rested on the bandage at his temple. “It is indeed fortunate that I possess such a robust constitution or you may have frightened me to death.” Once again meeting his eyes, she said briskly, “But we’ve already argued about that. I understand you wish to discuss something with me?”
Austin hesitated, not quite sure how to proceed. He normally was never at a loss for words, especially with a woman, but then he’d never proposed before.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sure you’re aware that what happened last evening and our being discovered together this morning essentially destroyed your reputation.”
She raised her brows. “Have the Digby girls been gossiping in spite of their promises not to? Caroline all but held me prisoner in her bedchamber since we arrived back at the house this morning, and she’s refused to discuss matters with me until you and I spoke. If a scandal is brewing, surely we can squelch any rumors. After all, nothing happened between us.”
“Really?” Reaching out, he trailed a fingertip over the pale freckles gilding her nose. “We kissed.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “We spent the night alone together. We were discovered wrapped in each other’s arms.”
Color stained her cheeks. “You were injured and I helped you. That we spent the night together is totally beside the point, and it was also unavoidable. Surely anyone would understand that.”
“No one would understand that, Elizabeth. Most especially not your aunt.”
“Oh, dear. Has a scandal erupted?”
“No.”
“Then Aunt Joanna doesn’t—”
“She knows.”
“She does? How do you know that?”
“I told her.”
She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “It appears it isn’t the Digby girls’ mouths we need to worry about running amok. What exactly did you tell her?”
“The truth. That my injuries, coupled with the storm, necessitated us spending the night together at the ruins. Unchaperoned.”
“Was Aunt Joanna terribly upset?”
“Not after I assured her that no scandal would touch you. In fact, she was quite pleased with my solution.”
“What solution?”
“You and I shall marry.”
She appeared frozen in place, a study of blank amazement. She stared at him and a full minute of the most deafening silence he’d ever heard ensued. With each passing second, his heart beat in slower, harder thumps until his chest felt as if it would burst. Finally she cleared her throat and spoke.
“You must be joking.”
It was Austin’s turn to stare. He wasn’t certain what he’d thought her r
esponse would be, but it hadn’t occurred to him she would think he spoke in jest.
“I assure you I am quite serious,” he said stiffly. “As my wife, no one would dare utter a word against you. Any dalliance we may have engaged in prior to the actual nuptials would be overlooked because a wedding was in the immediate offing.”
She clasped her hands in front of her, twisting her fingers. “Austin, I greatly appreciate this noble gesture, but surely such drastic measures are unnecessary.”
“Such measures are absolutely necessary. Even if you choose to shrug off the damage to your reputation, the scandal will attach itself to Lady Penbroke. Do you want to see her ostracized from Society?”
“Of course not! Aunt Joanna has been nothing but kind to me.”
“And would you repay her kindness by risking her position amongst the ton?”
Her eyes widened into pools of distress. “No! But—”
“Then marriage is the only way to protect yourself and her,” he stated, amazed—and damn it, annoyed—by her obvious reluctance to become his wife.
Her golden brown gaze was so filled with worry, he wondered if he’d proposed marriage or a tar and feathering. A thread of unexpected amusement worked its way through his irritation—not at her, but at himself and his own conceit. He’d never expected he’d actually need to convince a woman to be his bride.
One look at her face told him he’d have to do just that.
Adopting a mildly teasing tone, he said, “Your expression, which can only be described as troubled, indicates you haven’t taken into account the fact that marriage to me would come along with certain benefits.”
His pride took another slap at her confused look.
“Benefits?”
“Yes. It is an English word meaning ‘good things.’ For instance, you would be a duchess.”
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