Midnight Bride

by Marlene Suson

“Bought it from a maid at the inn where we stopped to dine last evening. She looked to be about your size.”

  Although Rachel was pleased that he had thought to do so, she felt a flash of pique that he had been looking so closely at another woman.

  “It is not elegant, but it was the best I could manage under the circumstances.” Jerome took Rachel’s arm and led her into the hall, “We will leave as soon as Morgan arrives.”

  “Who is Morgan?”

  Maxi, barking furiously, dashed out of the drawing room where he had been ensconced to greet his mistress, and Rachel bent to pet him.

  Jerome cocked his head at the sound of a horse galloping up outside. “Most likely that is Morgan now.,’

  When the door to the lodge was flung open a moment later, Gentleman Jack strode inside.

  “Sweet heaven,” Rachel exclaimed in shock at the sight of the highwayman. “What are you doing here!”

  She glanced toward Jerome and saw that he clearly did not share her surprise. Instead he said affably, “You are rather later than I expected you to be.”

  The highwayman gave him a sour look. “Yes, you knew after your dramatic departure from Wingate Hall, my curiosity would not allow me to stay away.” Gentleman Jack turned to Rachel and bowed. “Is he going to do right by you, my lady?”

  Confused by his question, she asked, “What do you mean?”

  Before the highwayman could answer, Jerome said, “You are just in time to accompany us, Morgan.”

  “Morgan?” Rachel echoed in surprise.

  Gentleman Jack smiled at her. “You have not been properly introduced to me, my lady.” He looked expectantly at Jerome.

  “Rachel, this is my brother, Lord Morgan Parnell.”

  “Your… but he is Gentle—”

  Jerome cut her off. “Gentleman Jack no longer exists. He has vanished from the face of the earth. Is that not true, Morgan?”

  The highwayman studied his brother intently for a moment, then said with a shrug, “If you say so. I collect you agree to my terms for giving up my criminal career.”

  Rachel was eager to hear Jerome’s answer, but instead he asked blandly, “Will you witness Rachel’s and my wedding tonight?”

  Morgan grinned. “With pleasure, but before we leave, I beg a moment in private with you, Jerome.”

  The brothers stepped outside into a misty darkness.

  Morgan said, “For a man who abhors scandal as much as you do, Jerome, you certainly are creating a good deal of it lately. Tales of your dramatic departure from Wingate Hall spread through the neighbourhood like wildfire. What on earth possessed you? One moment you tell me you are not going to marry Rachel, and the next you march into Wingate Hall and carry her off.”

  Jerome gave Morgan a sardonic grin. “I would do anything to get you to end your career as a highwayman. You promised to quit your criminal activities if I married her, and I intend to hold you to it.”

  “I will keep my word, never fear,”

  Profound relief enveloped Jerome. At least his brother, the one person he loved more than any other, would be safe now.

  Morgan studied Jerome with penetrating eyes. “There is more to this than you are telling me. It is too unlike you to act so precipitously. I want the truth. What happened?”

  “You were right about someone trying to kill Rachel.” Jerome told Morgan about the kittens and the poisoned milk meant for her.

  “Hell and damnation, who do you think was responsible?” Morgan exploded.

  “So many people had access to the milk before the tray was delivered to her that it is impossible to answer that. It could have been Fletcher or it could have been any one of a dozen servants—especially if your theory about her brother George is correct.”

  Morgan uttered a barnyard expletive.

  “I was so shocked and sickened when I saw the dead kittens and realized the implication that I hardly knew what I was doing,” Jerome confessed. “I only knew that I had to get Rachel away from Wingate Hall immediately.”

  Morgan studied his brother thoughtfully for a long minute, then asked, “Have you told her?”

  “That someone is trying to kill her? No, all that will do is terrify her. And upset her terribly. She loved those poor kittens. I do not want her to know.”

  Morgan’s face furrowed. “Do you think she will be safe at Royal Elms?”

  His brother’s troubled question had not occurred to Jerome, and he paled at the thought that the man who wanted her dead might try again at her husband’s estate.

  If Sir Waldo Fletcher was the scoundrel, Jerome did not think he would do so. Bedfordshire, where Royal Elms was located, was a long way from Yorkshire. And Fletcher was too much of a coward to run the great risk to his own life entailed in killing a duchess.

  Morgan said, “If her brother George is behind the attempts, and I think he is, then his hired assassin is almost certain to try again.”

  Jerome agreed with Morgan that George was the most likely villain. Stephen’s disappearance and the attempts on Rachel’s life must be connected. George was the only one who would benefit from their deaths. Rachel would be devastated if she learned of his and Morgan’s suspicions about her younger brother. Jerome strongly doubted that she would even believe them.

  His jaw clenched in determination. “I must take care to ensure that she will be safe.”

  “Aye, you must. I am very fond of Rachel.”

  “How fond?” Jerome blurted, singed by a sudden flash of jealousy. What the hell was the matter with him? There was no one in the world that he trusted as much as his brother.

  “Jealous, are we?” Morgan chuckled. “You should not be. I told you I think that she is the perfect wife for you, and I, too, am willing to make sacrifices for my favourite brother. Now, if you will trust me alone with my future sister-in-law, I would like a private moment with her.”

  Rachel cast a quizzical eye as Morgan came into the drawing room where she was sitting with Maxi dozing on her lap. “Why did you help me abduct your own brother?”

  “I promised you that I would do anything you asked, and I keep my word, no matter what. Besides I am delighted to have you as my sister-in-law. I think you are the perfect wife for my brother.”

  “I wish he thought so.” A lump that felt as large as a hen’s egg swelled in Rachel’s throat. “He does not want to marry me, you know, even though he is doing so.”

  Morgan sat in a chair opposite her. “What do you want, Rachel?”

  She stared unhappily down at her hands resting on Maxi’s silver coat. “Not a man who does not want me.”

  “But Jerome does! Believe me, I know my brother better than anyone. It is just that he cannot let himself admit yet how much he does care for you,’,

  Rachel wondered if she dared accept this small shred of hope. “Why can he not admit it?”

  “Because you are so ravishing. My brother cannot trust beautiful women, and for several good reasons. The first and most important of them was named Cleopatra Macklin.”

  Rachel remembered what Eleanor Paxton had told her. “But he jilted her!”

  “When Jerome was eighteen, he fell wildly in love with her. Cleo was his first love. He worshiped her and was determined to marry her despite the furious opposition of our father,”

  “Why did your papa oppose it?” Rachel asked.

  “He saw Cleo for what she was, an ambitious, scheming, wanton. Unfortunately, my father had not the smallest notion of how to go about persuading a stubborn son to change his mind. He was as stiff-necked, imperious an old martinet as ever lived.”

  “How can you talk of your father that way?” Rachel demanded, much shocked.

  “Because it is the truth. Instead of using even a modicum of tact with Jerome to discourage the affiance, he ridiculed him as grossly stupid for not seeing her as a conniving, faithless female. Unfortunately, for once in his life, Father was right.”

  “What happened?” Rachel asked. Maxi turned his head to nuzzle her arm, and she
absently began petting him.

  “There is no one more stubborn than Jerome when he is determined about something. He defied Father and announced to the world that he and Cleo were betrothed. A few weeks later, my brother discovered her in bed with Anthony Denton.”

  “Tony!” Suddenly Rachel understood why Jerome had been so angry when he had thought she had sneaked away to spend the night with Denton.

  Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know him?”

  “Yes, he was one of my brother Stephen’s closest friends. The night I was trapped at your hideaway by the storm, Jerome thought I was with Tony.”

  Morgan groaned. “Denton is at Wingate Hall?”

  Rachel nodded, still absently petting Maxi.

  Morgan studied her assessingly. “What do you think of Tony?”

  “Oh, he is very charming and handsome, but I confess I do not like him. He was, I think, a very poor influence on Stephen. Why are you grinning?”

  “I am impressed by your astuteness in seeing Tony for what he is. Few women do.”

  Rachel wished Jerome thought as highly of her as his brother did. “What happened after Jerome found Tony and Cleo together?”

  Morgan’s face tightened into grim lines. “Her infidelity shattered my brother’s heart. She was determined to be a duchess and utterly shameless about it. She refused to end their betrothal, thinking she could force him to marry her. As you know, a gentleman does not jilt a lady, but Jerome did so, although he did not let the world know that he, not she, was actually the injured party.”

  Rachel smiled at this new insight into Jerome. As was often the case, the truth was very different from what the world believed.

  “After that, my father mocked Jerome incessantly for what a ‘stupid fool’ he had been to let Cleo hoodwink him. Father also reiterated over and over how a beautiful woman could not be trusted nor faithful to one man. Jerome’s subsequent experiences with other beauties served to strengthen the distrust my father worked so hard to instil in him.”

  “Why did your father do that?”

  “He was determined that Jerome marry the daughter of his old crony and neighbour, Lord Hextable. Nobody would call Emily even pretty”

  Rachel caught the hostility in his voice. “You do not like her, do you?”

  “No. Unfortunately, Emily is very careful to conceal her real nature from Jerome, and he has never seen her as she really is. You will make Jerome a far better wife than she. He is overburdened with responsibilities, and he needs a woman who will help him as you helped your father and brother at Wingate Hall.”

  “You seem to know a great deal about me,” Rachel observed.

  “I could not have spent the past few months in your neighbourhood without hearing at great length about the beautiful Lady Rachel. You are much loved in North Yorkshire.”

  She felt herself blushing at his approving words and smile.

  “Jerome takes his responsibilities very seriously. He thinks it is his duty to shoulder them all himself.” There was a harsh, sardonic twist to Morgan’s voice. “Our father drubbed that into him.”

  “You did not care much for your father, did you?”

  “He was a hard man to feel affection for. He could show his love only by finding fault. He did not know how to praise, only to criticize.”

  Rachel shuddered. How dreadful life with such a man must have been. After her loving, kind father who had encouraged her in whatever she wanted to do, such a parent was almost beyond Rachel’s comprehension. She had not known how lucky she had been. “What was your mother like?”

  “A charming butterfly of a woman, much younger than Father, and very unhappy with him. After I was born and she had done her duty by providing an heir and a spare, she escaped Royal Elms as often as she could and took me with her.”

  Maxi cocked a sleepy head toward Morgan’s voice, then jumped off Rachel’s lap and trotted over to sniff the newcomer’s boots.

  Morgan said, “Jerome was not so lucky. Father would not permit Mother to take his heir with her. He wanted to come with us so badly, but he had to remain with our father while she and I spent wonderful months at her brother’s estate. It was like being freed from a prison.”

  Rachel thought of what it must have been like for the unhappy little boy left behind with that rigid, critical parent, and her heart went out to him.

  “Jerome’s childhood was miserable. My father devoted himself to training him to his own exacting standards. A crown prince has an easier time of it. You have no idea how often I have thanked God that I was born the second son. Nothing was worth what my brother went through.”

  Maxi put his front paws on Morgan’s knees, earning only an absentminded pat. “Not only did I escape to my uncle’s, but when I was at Royal Elms, I had Jerome to protect me from Father’s ire. He even took the blame for things I did to save me. It was Jerome who gave me the love that my father never did. If ever a man deserved happiness it is my brother, and I think you are exactly the woman he needs to find it.”

  “If only he agreed,” Rachel said wistfully.

  “Listen to me, Rachel, I meant it when I told you that Jerome cares for you very much, but he cannot admit that yet, not even to himself. In time, though, he will come to do so.”

  “But what if you are wrong?” A sharp pain gripped Rachel in the vicinity of her heart.

  “You can bring him round.”

  She did not share Morgan’s optimism. “How?”

  “Just be yourself. Eventually, Jerome will discover that he needs you far more than he yet realizes.”

  But what if he does not?

  Chapter 20

  By the time their coach pulled away from the York Minster, Rachel concluded that virtually nothing was impossible for the Duke of Westleigh.

  Take their marriage, for example. Although it was nearly midnight when they arrived at the Minster, its officials were happy to comply with the duke’s surprise wish to be married there at once and obligingly provided him with the license that made the immediate nuptials, outside canonical hours, possible. The brief ceremony was concluded at the stroke of midnight and duly recorded in the register.

  If the Minster’s ecclesiastics found either the duke’s sudden rush to embrace matrimony or his bride’s plain, unstylish gown odd, they kept their thoughts to themselves until after the departure of the unusual wedding party which consisted of the duke’s brother and groom and the bride’s dog.

  Rachel and her new husband were sharing the carriage with Maxi, who promptly fell asleep on the seat opposite them. Morgan and Ferris rode beside the coach on horseback.

  As they left York behind, Jerome said, “We will spend the night at Parnlee and leave for Royal Elms in the morning.”

  Rachel, remembering their earlier interlude there, felt a sudden heat twist within her. She studied her husband’s chiselled profile with its determined jaw, aristocratic nose, and thick sweep of golden lashes.

  She could not deny that, want to or not, she had fallen hopelessly in love with this complex man. And now, for better or for worse, he was her husband. For the better, she hoped, a little shiver coursing through her.

  Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. The silence was broken only by the rattling of the speeding coach and the song of a night bird.

  Jerome said, “I must get you a wedding gift. What would you like, jewels?”

  They did not interest her. Instead she decided to ask him for something she truly wanted. “The only gift I wish is some word on my brother Stephen’s fate.”

  “Are you serious?” Incredulity permeated Jerome’s voice.

  “Very serious. If you can learn what happened to Stephen, it will make me far happier than jewels.”

  He shrugged. “I will see what I can do, but I fear it is not likely to be good news.”

  She flinched at his bluntness and could not keep tears for Stephen from misting her eyes.

  Jerome hastened to say in a lighter tone, “Then again, perhaps Stephen is hiding unti
l his witch of a betrothed chooses another husband.”

  “I confess I cannot understand why my brother wanted to marry Fanny. It was not as though he seemed...”

  She broke off, looking embarrassed, and Jerome finished the sentence for her. “To be in love with her? Undoubtedly, he was not. I fancy her great attraction for Stephen was her father’s power.”

  “What?” Rachel gasped.

  “Her father, Lord Stoddard, is one of the most powerful men in English politics,” Jerome said cynically. “A connection to Stoddard would be most advantageous for any man—even an earl.”

  The earl’s sister was truly shocked. She had not thought her brother would choose a wife for such a reason.

  Her reaction clearly surprised Jerome. “Don’t tell me you are so naive that you believed your brother would have married for love? Men of your brother’s position rarely do.”

  Or of Jerome’s, she thought sadly. “My father did. And he and Mama were very happy together.” It had been the kind of happiness that Rachel had dreamed of having in her own marriage, but would she find it with Jerome?

  She remembered what Morgan had said about his brother’s inability to trust beautiful women after his unhappy experiences with them. She sought to reassure her husband that she was nothing like the women he had known. “I will do everything in my power to be a good wife to you,” she promised.

  “Will you?”

  Jerome’s sceptical tone wounded her.

  He studied her through narrowed eyes. “What is your definition of a good wife, my dear? Does it include being faithful to me?”

  He might as well have struck her. Hurt and anger flared within her. “If you must ask that, why on earth did you change your mind about marrying me, then seduce me into agreeing?”

  “You evade answering my question by asking one of your own,” he pointed out.

  “I will be faithful to you! How could you think that I would not be?”

  “Beautiful women never are.”

  “This one will be!”

  “I know your kind.”

  “You clearly do not know me or what my kind is at all!” Somehow Rachel would have to make him see that she was different.