Jacquie D'Alessandro

by Whirlwind Wedding

  “ I certainly do.”

  A devilish gleam sparkled in Miles’s eyes. “I’ll wager you’re thankful it wasn’t a Digby daughter who found you injured.”

  A shudder passed through him. “God, yes.”

  “Which makes me wonder… how did Miss Matthews manage to find you?”

  Before Austin could think up a plausible explanation for something that had no plausible explanation, Miles held out his hands. “Never mind. Clearly you’d planned an assignation. I do not need the details.”

  “Er, good.” He cleared his throat. “Now tell me, what did you find out about Miss Matthews?”

  Miles settled himself in the comfortable wing chair next to Austin’s desk. Extracting a small leather notebook from his pocket, he consulted his notes. “My inquiries confirmed that she arrived in London on January third of this year aboard The Starseeker. As luck would have it, The Starseeker was in port for repairs and I spoke to her captain, Harold Beacham.

  “According to Captain Beacham, Miss Matthews was a delightful passenger. She never complained, even when they encountered rough seas. Along with her companion, she often joined him on deck in the evenings to view the stars. She was very knowledgeable about astronomy, and he enjoyed her company.”

  He shot Austin a wink. “I believe he entertained some romantic notions toward your fiancée.”

  Austin’s jaw tightened, but he ignored the teasing jab. “Did he know if this was her first trip to England?”

  “She told him it was. He said that while she looked forward to arriving in England, there was a definite sadness about her. He assumed it was because she missed her home, but she never spoke of it.” He flipped several pages in his notebook. “I also tracked down Mrs. Loretta Thomkins, the traveling companion.”

  Austin sat up straighter. “What did she say?”

  Miles looked toward the ceiling. “What didn’t she say? Hang it, the woman never stopped chattering from the moment she clapped her eyes on me.” He tugged on his ear-lobes. “Good thing these are attached or she would have talked them off. I know more about that woman than anyone would ever care to know.”

  “And I’m certain you’ll only share the pertinent details with me.”

  A deflated expression crossed Miles’s face. “As you wish, but damned if I like it that I’m the only one who has to know her life history.” Heaving a dramatic sigh, he consulted his book. “According to Mrs. Thomkins, Miss Matthews—whom she referred to as ‘that dear, sweet child’—moved in with distant relations on her father’s side named Longren after her father’s death.”

  “Was she without funds?”

  “Not destitute, but hardly wealthy. She was heartbroken after her father’s sudden death. Miss Matthews told Mrs. Thomkins she hated living alone, so she sold the small house she’d shared with her father and moved in with her relatives. Apparently everything went along swimmingly until about nine months ago. That’s when Miss Matthews packed her things and left.”

  “What happened?”

  “Mrs. Thomkins didn’t know for certain, but she suspected a falling-out with the relatives as Miss Matthews never spoke of them and she changed the subject whenever Mrs. Thomkins brought them up. Whatever the reason, it greatly saddened Miss Matthews and made her determined and, in Mrs. Thomkin’s opinion, desperate to leave America.”

  “Desperate?”

  “Desperate to leave with no intention of returning.” Miles shrugged. “Mrs. Thomkins was nothing if not dramatic. She also said that ‘that dear, sweet child’ was like a lost soul for the first few weeks of their voyage and that her heart went out to her.” He snapped his notebook shut and slipped it into his waistcoat pocket. “That was as far as I’d proceeded with my inquiries before you summoned me back here.”

  Austin pondered the information with surprise. What had made Elizabeth leave America so abruptly with no intention to return? Clearly there was more behind her trip to England than a simple visit with her aunt. Had there been a falling-out with her relatives? It seemed odd that she’d never mentioned them, but perhaps the memory was too painful to speak of—a concept he could well understand.

  “Thank you, Miles. I appreciate your help.”

  “You’re welcome. Will you require any further assistance?”

  “I don’t believe so. Why don’t you stay on at Bradford Hall for a few days after the wedding? Robert has returned from the Continent, and Mother loves having you underfoot. Caroline also.”

  An odd expression flashed across Miles’s face and Austin thought he was going to refuse the invitation. But Miles inclined his head. “I’d enjoy the visit. Thank you. And now you must satisfy my curiosity. I’m confused about all the secrecy surrounding your request for information. Miss Matthews isn’t wealthy by any stretch, but you’re certainly not in need of an heiress. And even though she’s American, she is still an earl’s niece. If you were harboring tender feelings toward her, you could have told me. Naturally I’d have understood your desire to discreetly investigate a potential bride.”

  Austin’s brows collapsed into a frown. He was about to tell Miles that his inquiries had nothing to do with feelings, tender or otherwise, but it was simpler not to correct his assumptions. It certainly prevented him from making explanations he had no desire to make.

  “Sorry about the secrecy,” he said casually, “but you know how I’d have been hounded had anyone gotten wind of my plans. Thank you for your discreet help.”

  “Glad I could be of service.” A devilish grin lit Miles’s face. “Doubly glad I didn’t find out anything horrifying about your intended.”

  “As am I, although I suppose it would be a moot point. It is my duty to marry her.”

  Miles rose. With an amused smile playing around the corners of his mouth, he said, “Duty. Yes, I’m sure that’s all there is to it.”

  Chapter 11

  The wedding took place in the drawing room.

  Fresh flowers adorned every surface, filling the air with their heady fragrance. The twentysome-odd guests sat in rows of chairs set up in the middle of the room facing the fireplace.

  Austin stood between Robert and the local vicar who’d been called upon to perform the ceremony. When Elizabeth appeared in the doorway, all heads turned and a murmur of whispers ran through the guests.

  Austin’s breath caught in his throat. She was the most exquisite creature he’d ever seen. Her ivory satin gown fell from a scoop-necked bodice to her toes in a narrow, unadorned column. The soft material flared at her feet and ended with a small train in the back. Long white gloves, embroidered with pearls and gold thread, covered her arms to the dress’s short, puffed sleeves.

  Her hair was fashioned in a simple topknot, with hundreds of silky curls falling down her back to brush her waist. Her only jewelry was her betrothal ring and the ropes of diamonds twinkling in her hair. They were a wedding gift from his mother.

  She walked slowly toward him, her luminous golden brown gaze fastened onto his. She sent him a tremulous, shy smile and the “Elizabeth feeling” washed over him.

  “My God, Austin,” Robert whispered in an awed tone. “She’s incredible.”

  Austin, his attention riveted on Elizabeth, didn’t reply.

  Robert nudged him in the ribs. “It’s not too late to change your mind, you know,” he whispered. “I’m sure we could find someone willing to stand in your stead. Save you from the horrors of matrimony and all that. I might even consider volunteering myself.”

  Austin’s eyes never left Elizabeth’s face. “Another remark like that, little brother, and you’ll find yourself in the rosebushes. Headfirst.”

  Robert chuckled and said no more.

  The ceremony took less than fifteen minutes. After exchanging the vows that bound them for life, Austin brushed his lips lightly against Elizabeth’s mouth and his pounding heart seemed to stall in his chest. She is mine. He could not even begin to fathom why he felt so… elated. While everyone extended their best wishes and congratulations
to the bride and groom, he couldn’t erase the smile of pleasure from his face.

  An elaborate wedding feast followed the ceremony, and Austin chafed at the delay to depart for London. While supping on thinly sliced roast lamb and poached turbot, he repeatedly had to remind himself that the reason he was anxious to arrive in London was to await further word from the blackmailer. Tomorrow was July first. And as he still hadn’t heard from James Kinney, a visit to Bow Street was in order. Yes, those were the reasons.

  But then his gaze would settle on his wife… his beautiful, intriguing, fascinating wife, and all thoughts of investigations would somehow trickle from his mind like raindrops from the trees.

  When the long meal finally ended, they changed into traveling clothes and, amid much waving and well-wishing, embarked on their trip to London.

  Settled in the ducal coach, Austin watched, amused, as Elizabeth waved good-bye until everyone was a tiny speck. When she sat back on the luxurious burgundy velvet squabs, she smiled across at him.

  “This is a splendid coach, Austin. So very comfortable. Why, you can barely feel a bump.”

  “I’m glad you approve.”

  “It was a lovely ceremony, don’t you agree?”

  “Lovely.” He noticed a small bundle on her lap. “What is that package?”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “Gift?”

  “Yes. It’s an American word meaning ‘something given to one person from another.’’’ She handed him the parcel. “It’s for you.”

  “For me? You bought me a gift?”

  “Not exactly. But you’ll understand once you open it.”

  Curious, he untied the ribbon and carefully removed the wrapping. Inside lay the sketch she had drawn of him at the stream, when she’d asked him to reminisce. A beautiful cherry wood frame surrounded the picture.

  He stared at it in silence, warm pleasure spreading through him. While it was customary for his family to exchange gifts on occasions such as birthdays, he couldn’t recall the last time anyone had surprised him with a present.

  It took a full minute to locate his voice. “I find myself at a loss for words, Elizabeth.”

  “Oh, dear. You don’t have to say anything,” she said in a small voice.

  “But I do.” He dragged his gaze from his gift and looked at her and was surprised to see she appeared distressed. “I suppose I should say thank you, but it certainly seems inadequate for such a thoughtful gift.” He smiled at her. “Thank you.”

  “Oh! You’re very welcome. When you didn’t say anything I thought…”

  “Thought what?”

  “That my amateurish sketch was a foolish thing to give a man who has everything, including many priceless works of art.”

  “My silence meant nothing of the kind, I assure you. It’s just that I cannot recall ever receiving such a lovely gift. I was momentarily at a loss for words.” His candid admission surprised him. “Where did you get the frame?”

  “Your mother graciously invited me to search about in Bradford Hall’s vast storage room and I found it there.” A wry grin pulled at her lips. “You would not believe the lengths I had to go to to escape the seamstress’s clutches for even a few minutes. In spite of my time away from the pincushion, she fashioned a beautiful wedding gown.”

  “Yes, she did.” He carefully rewrapped the sketch, then placed it on the seat next to her. “Would you care to sit beside me?” he invited, patting the cushion next to his thigh.

  She moved alongside him without hesitation. As soon as she was settled, he leaned over and placed a light kiss on her lips. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”

  “You’re welcome.” She smiled at him and he fought the powerful urge to drag her onto his lap and kiss her senseless. Determined not to succumb to desires that would only leave him aching the entire journey, he pulled a deck of cards from his pocket.

  “The trip to London will take nearly five hours,” he said, shuffling the cards. “Do you play piquet?”

  “No, but I’d love to learn.”

  It didn’t take him long to realize his new bride possessed an uncanny aptitude for card games. It seemed he’d no sooner explained the rules to her than she was beating him. Soundly.

  Although he’d suggested they play cards to keep his mind and hands occupied and off his bride, things were not going quite as he’d planned. He’d played quite well until she removed the spencer to her traveling ensemble. It was impossible not to notice how her full breasts pressed against the soft peach muslin of her gown as she studied her cards with frowning concentration.

  Then, to make matters worse, she grew warm and discarded her fichu, allowing him a clear view of her creamy skin and an occasional teasing glimpse of cleavage. He found himself staring at her breasts, unable to concentrate, and down two tricks in no time.

  “Are you all right, Austin? Is your head paining you?”

  He snapped his gaze up to her face. “Actually, I feel a bit, er, overheated.” He pulled aside the curtain and drew in a relieved breath. “We’ll be stopping in a few minutes to change the horses.” Thank God. I need air.

  While the coachman changed the horses, Austin gratefully stretched his legs. He kept his eye on Elizabeth, whom he observed a short distance away, bending over some plants.

  When she returned to his side, he helped her back into the coach and they resumed their journey.

  “You’ll never guess what I found,” she said, settling her skirts around her.

  “By your delighted smile I’d have to guess diamonds.”

  She shook her head and held out her bonnet. It was filled with bright red strawberries. “There were dozens of them. The coachman invited me to help myself.” Reaching into the bonnet, she picked up a berry and handed it to him.

  “Have you ever heard of the Origin of Strawberries?” she asked, popping one in her mouth and chewing rapturously.

  “No. Is it an American story?”

  “In a way. It’s a Cherokee Indian myth. Papa told it to me. Would you like to hear it?”

  Leaning back against the velvet squabs, he said, “Absolutely.”

  “A very long time ago, there was a couple who were very happy together. But after a time they began to argue. The wife left her husband and headed toward the Sun land, far away in the east. He followed her, but the woman never looked back.

  “The Sun took pity on the man and asked if he were still angry with his wife. The man said no and that he wanted her back.” She paused and popped another berry into her mouth.

  “So what happened?” Austin asked, fascinated by her unusual tale.

  “The Sun made a patch of succulent huckleberries rise up directly in front of the woman, but she paid them no heed. Later he put up blackberries, but she ignored them as well. He placed several other fruits along the way to tempt her, but still she walked.

  “But then she saw the strawberries. Beautiful, ripe, luscious strawberries. The first ever known. When she ate one, her desire for her husband returned. She gathered the berries and returned to give them to him. They met on the path, smiled at each other, and went home together.”

  She smiled and offered him another berry. “Now you know the Origin of Strawberries.”

  “A very interesting story,” he said, his eyes trained on her lips, moist and stained pink with strawberry dew. The memory of kissing her berry-sweet mouth washed over him and he immediately commanded himself to think of something else. Bloody hell, why was that so difficult?

  While they enjoyed the rest of the fruit, he wondered just what he was going to do to keep his hands off her for the remainder of the journey. His wife, however, solved that problem for him soon after finishing the last berry.

  “My goodness,” she said, stifling a yawn. “I’m so sleepy.”

  Her eyelids drooped and he breathed an inward sigh of relief. He could easily resist temptation if she fell asleep. Pulling her against him, he nestled her head on his shoulder. “Come here, Miss Robust,” he teased, “before you sli
de to the floor and render yourself unconscious.”

  “I suppose that would be rather undignified,” she said in a sleepy voice, snuggling closer against him.

  “Behavior most unbecoming a duchess,” he agreed, but she didn’t hear him. She was already asleep.

  Shifting gently so as not to awaken her, Austin stretched out and cradled her against him. With her lilac scent surrounding him, and her soft body pressed against him, all his senses leapt to life. Damn it, it appeared resisting temptation was not going to be as easy as he’d thought.

  While he was throbbing, she was sleeping. He was hard and heavy with need, she was soft and languid with slumber. She sighed in her sleep and hugged him closer. A deep groan escaped him.

  Damn it all, this was going to be one hell of a long ride.

  Chapter 12

  Elizabeth came awake slowly. The first thing she noticed was that it was dark inside the coach. The next thing she noticed was that she was stretched out full length on the soft velvet squabs.

  Then she realized Austin was stretched out right next to her. And his arms were around her. And she was lying half on top of him and their legs were entangled. She tried to move, but his arms tightened, pinning her where she was.

  “Where are you going?” he asked in a husky whisper near her ear, enticing a legion of chills to skid down her spine.

  “I must be crushing you.”

  “Not at all. In fact, I’m very comfortable.”

  Thus reassured, she settled back, closed her eyes, and breathed in the wonderful smell of him. He smelled like… heaven. Like sandalwood and clean sunshine. Like Austin.

  She breathed deeply again and sighed. “When will we arrive in London?”

  “We’ll be home in less than half an hour. In fact, as much as I’m enjoying lying here, we’d best sit up and repair ourselves before we arrive.”

  She sat up and shrugged her arms back into her spencer. “Where is your London home?”

  “Our London home is on Park Lane, the same street as your aunt’s Town residence. We’re right next to Hyde Park in a section of London called Mayfair. We’re also very close to Bond Street, so you may shop all you wish.”