Foolish Bride

by A. S. Fenichel

  Brianne pulled a needle and thread from the box on the window seat and threaded the eye. “His grace explained that you might say such a thing. He is generous to have taken you for a wife in spite of your infirmity.

  “My infirmity! What infirmity would that be?”

  Brianne’s skin pinked and she wouldn’t meet Elinor’s gaze. “He told us that you were touched in the head.”

  Elinor held her temper. Obviously, Roxton had told lies to keep her a prisoner. She changed tactics. “What do you think of his grace?”

  Tasting lemons would have produced a sweeter expression. She pulled the fabric together and sewed a hole in the dress. “His grace is a fine lord.”

  “Chases the maids about the castle, does he?” Elinor asked.

  Brianne looked away and smoothed the gown.

  “I hope you are a fast runner, Brianne.” Elinor walked to the window.

  “I am quite fast, miss. I also know my way about the castle a far cry better than his grace. I’ve had to lose him more than once.” Her smile faded. “I am sorry, miss. I am always shooting my mouth off that way. Mother often tells me to keep my thoughts to myself. I am sure your betrothed is a fine man.”

  Though she tried not to, Elinor laughed. “Brianne, I am going to tell you the truth, but you’d best keep it to yourself. No one is going to believe me, anyway.”

  “I’ll believe you, miss.”

  “I am not crazy. I am engaged to the Duke of Kerburghe, but that man, Roxton, is not him. Michael Rollins is tall with dark brown hair and blue eyes, and he was elevated to the rank of duke not two months ago. This man is an imposter, and I really could not tell you why he is doing all of this. I was taken here against my will and would be grateful if you would help me avoid Roxton until Michael arrives to save me.”

  Brianne smiled, but her eyes remained sad. Returning her attention to the now-mended gown, she gave it a shake. “It’s just wedding jitters. The Father will come and marry you soon. You will see that everything will be fine.”

  “I have no intention of marrying that pig of a man.”

  Brianne gathered more bolts of ancient clothes out of a trunk and shook each one out.

  “What is that?” Elinor waved the dust from her face. Motes swirled in the light from the window.

  “Why, ‘tis your wedding clothes, miss. They belonged to the last duchess, but that was years ago. She died in childbirth with the babe. That’s why the title went to the current duke, who’s only a distant relation.”

  Hoping to make sense of the situation, Elinor absorbed Brianne’s report. “Is there a shortage of women in Scotland?”

  “No.” Her freckled nose scrunched up. “Why do you ask?”

  “I just wondered why Roxton would steal an unwilling woman from England when there are ample women here at Kerburghe.”

  “He must be in love with you.” Brianne cocked her head and gazed dreamily out the window.

  It would be a miracle if the food stayed down, the way Elinor’s stomach churned at the idea of Roxton. “I had never met him before yesterday when he snatched me away from a house party, so that seems unlikely.”

  Shrugging, she brushed dust and dirt from the wedding gown.

  “How far is England from here?”

  “About twenty miles, I suppose. But you shouldn’a think of running for the border, miss. It’s a rough road for a woman alone.” Brianne’s eyes widened and she paled.

  “I cannot very well marry this pretender. He’s abhorrent, has injured me, and may have killed Everett.”

  Clutching the fabric to her chest, Brianne gasped. “Who’s Everett?”

  “Michael’s brother.”

  “Why would his grace kill this Everett?”

  “The boy was trying to rescue me from the kidnapping.”

  “Boy? Is Everett a child?” Practically tearing the gown, she leaned in for more of the story.

  “No. I suppose not any longer. He is seventeen. Since he is Michael’s younger brother, I suppose I have thought of him as my brother as well. I pray he is well.”

  Brianne frowned, looked at the gown, and back at Elinor.

  Chapter 18

  Michael road as if an inferno was at his heels. He could already be in Scotland if not for his friends’ extraordinary amount of preparation. First, the letter to James had taken forever to write and send. Then, Thomas had insisted upon gathering more firearms than they would ever require. Mother had delayed him by an hour with words of warning about being careful and not taking unnecessary risk.

  Once she finished, Virginia cornered him. She had been hysterical since her daughter’s kidnapping. “You must find her and bring her back. I know that my husband and I have not been as kind to you as we might have been, but that is no reason for you to make my darling girl suffer. I could not stand to lose her.”

  Michael couldn’t blame her. There were moments when he wished he had the luxury of hysterics himself. “Lady Malmsbury, be assured, I shall find her and bring her back.”

  “I do not want you to think my family heartless. We liked you very much, but then you were injured and his lordship thought it best if Elinor found another husband. You must understand.”

  Michael did understand, but his temper still edged near the surface. He had believed himself as unsuitable for the lady as her parents had. Only Elinor remained loyal throughout the past few months. She had come to him in the night and begged for a reason for his betrayal. All he had done was insult her and send her away.

  He shook himself. That was the past. She loved him still, and she was his. He would go and get her, then deal with the problem of her parents. None of that mattered. The only important thing was that Elinor was brought home safely.

  Michael took Virginia Burkenstock’s hands and looked her in the eye. To his amazement, she stopped weeping. “My lady, I will do whatever it takes to bring her back to you. I would give my life for Lady Elinor. If it is in my power to retrieve her, then I shall no matter the cost. You must believe that.”

  “I have faith in you, your grace.” She turned and walked up the curved steps to her chambers.

  Interesting that she’d spoken to him alone. She hadn’t gone to Daniel, whose property they were on, nor had she spoken to Middleton, whom she intended for her daughter. She had come to him, knowing his feelings. Perhaps, like her daughter, Virginia Burkenstock played at being simple-minded. What else might she be aware of? But thoughts of his sweet Elinor lying in his arms made him lose focus, so he brushed them away.

  In the courtyard, Michael and his friends mounted their horses.

  Daniel rode beside him. “We’d best get moving. With any luck, James is close to Kerburghe by now.”

  Michael kicked his horse into a trot. It would do no good to kill the beast, and they had a long ride before they could change horses.

  * * * *

  Before luncheon was served, Brianne stuffed Elinor into miles of wedding gown fabric and pulled her through the castle. “Come on, miss.”

  The gown stank of mold and some other odor that she couldn’t identify. If the style was any indication, it had been in a trunk for forty years.

  The halls were a blur of gray stone and cobwebs. Dust tickled Elinor’s nose as they ran through, and she sneezed. “What is the hurry?”

  “His grace has a bit of a temper. If we’re late, there will be the devil to pay.” With a shaking voice, she tugged harder on Elinor’s hand.

  They must have traversed the entire span of the castle before arriving at the chapel. Elinor’s feet ached with the pounding from the stone floors.

  She had to admit that it was a lovely chapel with tall ceilings and stained glass. Under any other circumstance, she would have enjoyed visiting such a place. If the marriage had been to Michael, this would have been lovely.

  Jowls jiggling in an unnatural and disgusting way, Roxton bounced around the altar like a misbehaving child. Between that sight and the stench of h
er gown, Elinor’s stomach churned. Bile rose in her throat as one of the men who had helped to capture her prodded her up the aisle.

  The other guard stood near the altar.

  The dower-faced priest stood behind them. Holding his Bible in one hand, he tapped the cover with the other. He was red from too much sun.

  Where were the guests? Why were no neighbors present? Elinor’s heart pounded in her ears. Panic rose up from her gut. This couldn’t be happening. Her feet hurt from traversing the castle and courtyard wearing ancient, ill-fitting slippers that matched the wedding gown. If the guard’s vice-like grip hadn’t held her up, her legs might have given out. She would have bruises on her arm to match the one on her face.

  Elinor said. “You cannot actually believe that I shall go through with marrying you.”

  Roxton frowned. “You do not seem to understand. I have not asked you, because the choice is not yours. I am in command here at Kerburghe. You will do as I say. Everyone here does as I say.”

  “You have no business here. This is not your holding. Michael Rollins is the Duke of Kerburghe, and you are most certainly not him. He is a hero for the crown, and you are nothing.”

  Before she could flinch, Roxton slapped her across the face. She immediately tasted the blood.

  “This is a house of God!” The priest stomped his foot and raised his bible.

  Roxton turned on him eyes bulging and spittle on his chin.

  They were about the same height. Roxton carried more fat around his middle, and the priest wore spectacles.

  The priest stood his ground. “Am I to understand that the young lady does not consent to this marriage?”

  “I do not. I have been brought here against my will. I—”

  An enormous meaty hand clamped over her mouth and blocked her breathing.

  She struggled, but it was useless, and the bruises on her face stung from the added pressure.

  “Of course she wished the marriage. I am a duke.” Roxton’s voice took on a sing-song quality. “All women want to marry a duke.”

  The priest sighed and removed his spectacles. He closed the Bible and rubbed his eyes. “I cannot marry you if the lady is not willing. You shall have to release her and allow her to go.”

  “Go! Where can she go? She is mine. I will never let her go.” He advanced on the priest and pointed his finger in the man’s face. “You will marry us, or I will put you out of Kerburghe. You will be left without a living.”

  To his credit, the priest merely frowned. “I shall pack my things, for I shall not go against the church and marry an unwilling party.”

  For a man who had obviously overindulged in food and drink for most of his life, Carter Roxton was surprisingly quick. He pulled out a long thin knife from his boot and pointed it at the priest.

  The cleric only narrowed his eyes. “I cannot be threatened, my son. I do not fear death as it only brings me closer to my Lord. I would only fear for your soul should you kill me.”

  Roxton’s freckled face spread into a grin. He turned the knife away from the man and toward Elinor.

  Elinor also preferred the idea of death to marrying the fiend. However, the hand blocking her mouth kept her from voicing this.

  “I wonder if those brave words hold up now.”

  The guard continued to hold Elinor. He let go of her mouth and held both arms behind her back. Her shoulders ached from the strain.

  “Father, I would rather die than marry him.”

  Now Roxton pressed the edge of his blade against her neck. Cold steel sent a shiver up her spine.

  “You are not going anywhere until this marriage is complete. I shall have her, or I shall kill her. You see, Father, I am in love with this woman, and I cannot stand for another man to have her. I am quite desperate.”

  He didn’t sound at all desperate. In fact, his voice was almost melodious as he described her two possible fates. It was a game to him. His ruddy face colored a deeper red and puffed out. He would kill her, and he thought he could get away with the murder.

  The priest looked at Roxton, then at Elinor. She could see that he too believed that she was in peril. “I am sorry, my child.”

  “Father, you cannot.” It was unbearable. Where was Michael? She would have screamed if a blade hadn’t been threatening her life.

  The priest spread his hands and looked hopelessly down the steps at Elinor. “I cannot be the cause of a mortal sin.”

  “So you would be party to a forced marriage—a sacred oath that I cannot keep. How is it that this pig’s immortal soul is of more value than mine? I would rather die than allow that piece of dung to touch me.”

  He pressed the blade.

  Blood tricked down her neck, staining the low collar of the yellowed dress.

  “Don’t test my patience.” Roxton blew stale putrid breath in her face.

  “My child, please,” the clergy begged.

  Any fear Elinor might have experienced had been overshadowed by rage. She would plunge that dagger into Roxton’s heart if she had the chance. “Is there nothing I can say, Father? Nothing that will save me from this person?”

  The priest sighed and shook his head.

  “Good.” Smiling, Roxton removed the blade and slipped it into his boot with practiced ease. He nodded to the guard, who released her arms.

  A cry escaped before she could stop it, and Elinor slumped forward, rubbing her aching shoulders.

  Roxton pulled her upright. “I am sorry for all of this unpleasantness, my dear.”

  She wouldn’t be able to count the bruises by the end of this insanity. She was about to be married to a complete madman, and there was no way out of it. Running wasn’t an option with his hired guards looming over her.

  Not even the priest would help her.

  The ceremony began, and bile rose in her throat. She did not have any idea whose ancient gown she had been swallowed up in, but she begged their forgiveness.

  “Do you, Lady Elinor Arabella Burkenstock, take Carter Smythe Roxton, Duke of Kerburghe, to be your lawfully wedded husband…”

  Her ears rang. The walls closed in like a nightmare.

  Perhaps she had become pale, because the priest stopped and asked, “Are you all right, my child?”

  She vomited the lovely bread from her morning meal all over the gown and the priest.

  After that, everything blurred. Hands gripped her, and there was shouting. She tried to focus on what was going on, but nothing made sense. Why was Michael not charging in to save her?

  More shouting.

  The priest was again refusing to continue.

  The room righted itself and stopped spinning.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

  She never said, “I do,” but it didn’t seem to matter.

  “Take the priest and lock him in the dungeon until after Rollins is dispensed with.”

  Maybe she was in the midst of a nightmare and would soon wake up and realize she was still at Marlton and Michael was just down the hall. Then her biggest problem would be convincing Mother she should marry Michael rather than Preston.

  Roxton wore a catlike smile, and she almost vomited again. The urge to sprint from the church and run until this nightmare was over almost overwhelmed her.

  “Take her to the ladies’ chambers and have her cleaned up. I plan to make this marriage official before the sun sets.”

  The beefy guard dragged her from the church.

  * * * *

  Elinor sat on the edge of the bed as footmen carried a large ancient tub into the room. After it was in place, they filled it, which took an hour. As bewildered as she was, her mind still raced, thinking what to do next. The servants all thought she was daft. How could they not? In the last twenty-four hours, her life had gone from pure joy to complete horror. That would be enough to drive most women mad.

  She looked at the window and knew immediately that she was far too high to jump. The hallway
was crowded with guards and servants. The wardrobe connected to the master’s chambers, and she assumed that Roxton would be through there. The servants’ passage through the back of the house was the only way out, but she would need help.

  When the tub was full, the room cleared except for Brianne, who was adding some kind of oils to the water.

  “Brianne, what are the servants saying?”

  The girl turned with wide eyes.

  “Come now, I know that there must be some gossip in the back stairs. It’s not possible for what is going on here to be completely secret.”

  “I am not supposed to tell tales, your grace.”

  Elinor cringed at the title. She had to get out. Letting Roxton touch her wasn’t an option. “That is commendable, but please tell me what you’ve heard.”

  “The rumors have run wild. They are saying you are a runaway princess and your father will send his knights to rescue you. I heard that the duke put a knife to your throat. I even heard that there is a priest locked in the dungeons. It’s like a fairytale, the way they are all going on.” Her red curls bobbed as she giggled.

  Elinor smiled. “I am no princess, Brianne. But the other two rumors are quite true. The priest who was forced to marry me to that pig of an impostor is locked in the dungeon.” She pointed to the small cut on her neck. “You can see for yourself that I was cut by the knife at my throat.”

  Brianne rushed forward and touched the cut. She frowned, tugging at the collar where blood stained the dress. “Goodness. I thought you made up everything.”

  “I need your help, Brianne. I have to get out of here before Roxton comes for me. I will kill myself rather than have the man touch me. Do you understand?”

  The maid nodded, but tears filled her eyes. “But where will you go? It’s only a matter of time before you’re found out. Then he will take you, and I will be put out in the street or worse.”

  She took the girl’s hands in hers. “Listen to me. I do not need to be hidden for long. I told you the truth when I said that the real Kerburghe will come for me. I only hope he has figured out where I am.”

  Brianne’s eyes grew even larger. “Then the story of the boy who was shot was also true?”