If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages)

by Amanda Forester

  Kate sighed. “I would not blame you if you just called it off.”

  “I hope you know me better than that by this time. Besides, we could potentially have more than just ourselves to consider.”

  “You mean your family?”

  “I mean after last night, we could be expecting an addition to the family,” he said softly.

  Kate thought there was nothing left that could surprise her. She was wrong. She had not considered the ramifications of the night before. Why should she? She was getting married.

  “You do not think… It could not be possible that… No, I am certain I could not… Oh no, I could!”

  “That’s probably why the Bible says not to anticipate the wedding vows,” said John wryly.

  “But I intended to marry you!” she defended.

  “I think it would be best if we marry as soon as may be,” said John gently.

  “Yes, but oh, the court case could go on for a while.” What was she going to do?

  “Perhaps we could be married and then fight the contract in court?”

  “But we would have a stronger case before we are wed. And if we fail…I cannot wed without my dowry safe from that man!”

  “Forgive me.” Tristan rushed back in the room. “But this General Roberts who signed here. Do you think that could be Sir Antony Roberts?”

  “Sir Antony?” John rose and stared at the parchment in Tristan’s hand.

  “Who is Sir Antony?” asked Kate.

  “Friend of the family,” answered John. “We could ask if he signed this and under what conditions.”

  “My godfather is an uncaring bastard,” spat Kate.

  “How do you know this?” asked John, suspicious.

  Realization dawned. “The damn steward. He lied about everything else. Why not this too?” She rose to her feet, fresh anger an easier emotion to manage than sorrow.

  “But did he not marry a Scot for a wife? They may be far off,” said Tristan.

  “No, he is wintering in Sussex,” said Anne, entering the room.

  John’s eyebrows raised. “You truly do know all in society.”

  “Yes, and he was invited to Jane’s wedding. Sent his regrets saying they were in Sussex, though I do not know the address.”

  “I do,” said Kate, to the surprise of all. “He wrote me recently. In truth, I have received many letters from him throughout the years, but I could never forgive him for abandoning us when we needed him, so I never opened them.”

  “Sussex is not far,” commented John.

  “Care to go for a drive?” asked Kate.

  A half hour later, they were packed in the coach, this time with a proper coachman and them on the inside with a large basket of goodies, intended for the wedding breakfast, and a warmer at their feet.

  She had always thought of General Roberts as something of a villain, but now she very much hoped she was wrong. This had to work. They had to get this contract nullified and then they had to get married.

  Wynbrook sat stiffly, looking out the window. Gone was the lively banter and playful manner. She needed to preserve her dowry, but what if the price was the man?

  They drove on for hours. The roads were poor, but they had frequent changes of horses and made steady progress toward their object. Wynbrook was unusually quiet. He seemed content to stare out the window. Even when she suggested he look at his shocking novel, he only replied that he had experienced enough excitement for one day. He didn’t even look at her when he said it.

  It was time to get back to doing what she knew. She needed to make a list. Perhaps everything in her life had gone higgledy-piggledy because she had abandoned her practice of the cold comfort of making lists. She searched the pockets of her wool pelisse for a pencil and a notebook.

  She found a stub of pencil and bit of paper. It would do. She went to work on her list for the day.

  1. Nullify contract.

  2. Restore dowry.

  3. Send Silas Bones to perdition.

  4. Marry the Earl of Wynbrook.

  5. Get said earl to stop looking out the window and talk to me.

  She observed the silent Wynbrook as they rattled along in the coach, being jostled to and fro as it bumped over the rough road. John had instructed the coachman to make haste, and the man was clearly following that instruction.

  John was not happy. And he was quiet. She had not known he could be so silent. He had always been ready with lively discourse, but now, nothing.

  She looked over the list again. Was she missing something? Nullify contract. That was important. Restore dowry. The same dowry she had been mad as fire her brother had given her. The dowry Wynbrook cared nothing for and was willing to marry her without.

  Kate absently spun the pencil in her fingers. She had objected to a dowry when she had no intention of marrying. Now that her world had changed, to enter into the marriage without the dowry was to leave all security behind. It meant she would have to rely on another person, trust someone else to take care of her. The mere thought made her queasy with fear.

  John said he loved her. Loved her. Truth was, she loved him back, and that was scarier than anything she had yet experienced. Would she sacrifice love on the altar of fear?

  She glanced down and saw that on the other side of the paper was the verse Emma had given her. All things are become new.

  Become new? That was a laugh. She was not new in the least. She would never be free of the past that haunted her.

  And yet…John did not believe it. She also had begun to believe she could walk free of fear and doubt. She had thought she could never tolerate being vulnerable with a man, but last night had shattered that fear. She definitely had no problem with it. At least, not with John.

  Lord, I know I have not prayed often. After everything that happened in her past, she had always assumed God was not particularly interested in her welfare. Or really didn’t like her. Either way, it seemed best not to draw too much attention to herself.

  But what if Emma was right? What if everything she had endured had given her the experience and drive to chase after Robert when he had been shot? And what if she had helped save his life? Was everything she had experienced, as miserable as it was, worth it if it meant saving her brother’s life?

  Lord, give me a sign. What shall I do?

  Out the window on a little rise ahead of them stood a quaint, white church. A man, a curate by his cloth, walked outside the church and raised both hands to the sky.

  “Stop the coach,” said Kate, not even realizing she was speaking.

  “I beg your pardon?” asked John.

  “Stop the coach!”

  He rapped on the ceiling with his cane and the coach slowed to a stop. He looked at her, questioning.

  Kate took a deep breath. This was it. She was crossing a threshold from which she could not recover. She was doing a new thing.

  “I just realized I love you.” She gulped down fear.

  He said nothing, but his face became alive once more and his eyes shone with emotion.

  “I love you more than money. I’d rather be poor with you than rich and alone.”

  “Oh, Kate.” He gathered her up into his arms and kissed her until her head swam and she wished they were back in bed once more. They definitely needed to get married now. “But, dear, I am not poor,” he added.

  “Apparently, I am. Would you be willing to marry me anyway?” She pointed to the little church.

  He patted his breast pocket that contained the special license. “Anytime, anywhere.” He beamed at her—the smile she had missed. It was worth her entire dowry.

  Wynbrook hopped out of the coach and offered a hand to Kate. Together, they walked arm in arm to the little church. The wind rustled about in a fervent manner, ripping through the trees and tugging at her bonnet. The reverend was standing be
fore the church with his back to them. When they drew nearer, it was clear he was praying.

  “I’ve tried to follow you, Lord. I’ve tried to serve the needs of these people. How have I failed you? How could you let this happen?”

  Wynbrook cleared his throat loudly to announce their presence.

  The young man spun to face them. “Oh!” He was a wiry man of average build and height. He even had a rather average face, with brown hair and eyes, except for a white scar that slashed at an angle across his forehead.

  “Forgive us for disturbing you,” said Wynbrook calmly. “But we would like to be married.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” said the reverend, still recovering from his surprise at being caught praying aloud in a desperate manner. “Do come back tomorrow to the rectory. There will be a new rector installed soon and he will be able to help you set a date.”

  “We would like to be married now,” explained Kate, holding her bonnet so the wind could not carry it off.

  He motioned for them to step into the small church, limping as he went. “What is this, now?”

  “Perhaps introductions are in order,” said Wynbrook with his usual easy charm. Kate was relieved it had returned. “I am John Arlington, Earl of Wynbrook, and this is my fiancée, Lady Katherine.”

  “Tim Dawkins. Soon to be unemployed curate,” said the morose man of the cloth.

  “Forgive me, but we could not help overhear,” said Kate. “You seem to be in some trouble. Can we help?”

  The man sighed. “I have been the curate here under the rector for five years, waiting for the elderly rector to retire. The rectory was promised to me when it fell vacant, but when it came available, the living was given to another.”

  “Why?” asked Kate.

  “Because of a riding accident. Got rolled by a horse and…” He lifted his trouser pant leg, revealing a wood and metal contraption instead of a leg. “Said I wasn’t a full man before God.”

  “Outrageous!” cried Kate.

  “Preposterous!” exclaimed Wynbrook.

  The curate merely shrugged.

  “I cannot believe anyone would be so shockingly prejudiced,” continued Kate.

  “Do you know where you will go?” asked Wynbrook.

  “I can stay with some lads I met at Oxford for a while, until I can find a new situation.”

  Wynbrook handed the reverend his card. “Contact me if I can be of service to you.”

  Reverend Dawkins took the card with some surprise. “Thank you, my lord. Wish I could help you, but the banns would have to be read in your home parish.”

  “I do have a special license.” Wynbrook produced it with a flourish.

  A wry smile appeared on Reverend Dawkins’s face. “I am still the curate for the remainder of the day. Let us have your wedding be the last office I perform!”

  Kate smiled even as her heart beat in her throat. She was betting everything on the love of one man. One wonderful man. Her wonderful man.

  A brief search for witnesses was commenced, and then they were ushered up to the front of the chapel. The Earl of Wynbrook was married to Lady Katherine Ashton by Reverend Dawkins in the presence of their coachman and a maid of all work.

  Kate appreciated the soon-to-be-unemployed curate’s style of speaking—straightforward and unapologetic. She held her breath when the curate asked if anyone had just cause why she could not wed John. This time all was silent. John released a breath and gave her a smile.

  The ceremony was short but complete. A wave of relief washed over her when they were pronounced man and wife. They had done it. They were finally married. The curate was announcing them to the two other people in the church when Wynbrook swept her up and kissed her joyfully.

  “I love you, Lady Wynbrook.” John could not stop smiling. It made her smile right back. So far, her life of new things was not so bad.

  After the appropriate papers had been signed, they walked arm in arm out of the church. “I wish there was something we could do to help our reverend friend,” whispered Kate as they left. Everyone should be as happy as she. “I don’t suppose you know of any situations? He seems a nice man.”

  John stopped short. “Actually, I need to find another rector at home.” He said no more but led Kate back into the church.

  “I think I may know a way to repay you for the service you provided us today,” said Wynbrook to the good reverend. “Would you be interested in the rectory at Arlington Hall?”

  The man dropped his prayer book. “Are you in jest?”

  “No. The rectory serves my countryseat and—”

  “Yes!” shouted the reverend. “Oh, bless the good Lord, yes!”

  Thirty-nine

  “What would you like to do now, my love?” asked Wynbrook when they were back in the coach, celebrating their nuptials by eating from the basket of delicious meat pies and sweet treats packed by the cook.

  “I did marry you for love, my dear, but would you mind ever so much if we try to nullify the marriage contract with the son of my father’s murderer?”

  “Not a usual activity for a honeymoon, but with you, I would expect nothing less.”

  She had a strong feeling he would deny her nothing. Marriage was making her feel stronger, not weak. Strange.

  They continued their journey toward the country home of Sir Antony. This time, they enjoyed themselves, John reading aloud from The Captain’s Curse while Kate whooped with laughter. She could not remember a time she had laughed so hard. In truth, she could not remember the last time she had laughed at all.

  It had grown dark by the time they rolled up onto the drive of the country cottage. It was of stone construction and clearly more of a country retreat than the gentleman’s countryseat. It had a cozy feel, with vines growing wild up one side of the cottage.

  “This is the house?” asked Kate.

  “Yes, I believe it to be.” John helped her out of the coach. “I hope we will find Sir Antony amenable to unexpected guests.”

  “Perhaps General Roberts is not Sir Antony Roberts after all,” commented Kate.

  “Excuse me, my lord,” said the coachman. “Seemed like someone was following us on horseback a while back, but I haven’t seen the bloke for the past hour.”

  “Thank you,” said Wynbrook. “After you see to the horses, go to the kitchen and get warm and something to eat. We have traveled long today, and I hope we will all receive a friendly welcome.”

  In a soft voice, Kate asked, “Do you think Silas Bones is following us?”

  John shrugged. “Could be anyone.”

  “But given our luck, it’s probably not.” She glanced around, but there was no one in sight. It was a cold night—perhaps he had given up the chase.

  She approached the front door with some dread. How were they to explain their arrival at such a late hour? John put his hand over hers and gave her gloved fingers a small squeeze. He always seemed to understand when she needed a little encouragement, and though she would have difficulty accepting such from most people, she was growing fond of his support.

  “If General Roberts is Sir Antony, I am certain he will help us,” said John with confidence.

  “You know him well?”

  “He was my father’s friend more than mine, but he has a reputation as a fair and good man.”

  “I hope you are right,” said Kate. She was beginning to believe Wynbrook could make anything right. Marriage must have gone to her head.

  They stood at the door and John pulled the bell. In due time, the butler answered, looking a bit severe.

  “Lord and Lady Wynbrook to see General Roberts,” said Wynbrook in his most austere aristocratic manner. Kate bubbled with excitement to be so named Lady Wynbrook.

  The butler was clearly surprised by such visitors but stayed true to his profession and invited them in with the utmost civ
ility. He showed them to a nicely appointed sitting room, where they awaited their host. Wynbrook ensured Kate was warm by the fire before taking the seat opposite hers.

  A middle-aged lady burst into the room with a swish of silk and a head full of ostrich feathers. “The Earl of Wynbrook?” asked the elegantly attired lady.

  Wynbrook rose and gave her a nod.

  She continued on before he had a chance to speak. “It’s very nice to make your acquaintance, my lord. Have you brought your lovely wife too? Lady Kate, I believe?”

  Kate was shocked for a moment that the woman knew her name before she recalled the gossip column. Everyone knew her name.

  “To what do we owe the honor of your visit with us today?” Though she spoke with perfect diction, Kate could not fail but note a slight lilt to her tone, with a hint of something Scottish in the way she spoke.

  “It is a matter of some delicacy. We are hoping to speak with General Roberts,” said Wynbrook pleasantly enough but not entirely inviting further conversation.

  “You may say anything to me that you would say to him,” said the lady, leaning rather close to Wynbrook. “I am his wife, Lady Roberts. So please feel at ease to speak as you wish. Do let us accommodate you for the night, for it is late and I would be greatly distressed if you were to leave us at such a time. If you are hungry, we can prepare something for you. I do like to think I keep a good table, but I am sure we can rouse the cook to produce such fare as you are accustomed to.”

  “Thank you but we have already eaten,” said Wynbrook. “We are grateful for your hospitality.”

  “It is a great honor to meet you.” Lady Roberts gave a handsome if unnecessarily low curtsy before them.

  “This is a matter of some importance and I would very much like to speak with General Roberts,” said Kate, wishing the woman would leave and send her husband instead.

  The lady laughed. “General Roberts? Yes, I suppose he is, though we mostly call him Sir Antony. It has been a long while since he served his country in uniform.”

  “Though I did it with distinction.” An elderly man with sparkling eyes entered the drawing room. He gave his wife a warm smile and she returned it prettily. “Lord Wynbrook? I am surprised to see you! Is everyone in the family well?”