Duel of Hearts

by Farr, Diane

  Something in his expression made her feel suddenly hot and breathless. He seemed to be picturing things he might compel her to do, if she ever granted him authority over her. She glanced sideways at him, through her lashes. “You don’t frighten me,” she told him softly, daring him. “I am no man’s chattel.”

  The lamplight seemed to leap and flare in his eyes, turning them to molten gold. “That you are not,” he said. “And never will be, as God is my witness.” His head bent, and she lifted her lips to his gladly.

  “Marry me, Lilah,” he whispered. “I promise you, you won’t regret it. I adore you.”

  She clung to him, hardly knowing whether to laugh or cry. “Oh, Drake! I would marry you tomorrow if I could.”

  She felt his body go utterly still. Then he took her by the shoulders and held her away from him a bit, staring at her as if seeing her for the first time. “That’s it,” he said slowly. “That’s the answer.”

  Lilah was confused. “The answer to what?”

  “That’s what we’ll do.” He took a breath, excitement kindling in his eyes. “We’ll be married tomorrow.”

  She was too stunned to reply. Drake gave her shoulders a little shake. “Lilah, will you do it? Say yes.”

  He saw the refusal in her eyes and placed one hand firmly over her mouth. “Do not argue with me,” he commanded. “Not this time! This is the surest way out of our difficulties. We’ll make a clean break. We’ll give them no chance to wring their hands or scold us. We’ll be gone and the deed will be done before they know what hit them. And once we’re man and wife, by God, they can’t touch us.”

  Lilah tapped her foot against the carpet, waiting grimly for Drake to lift his hand from her mouth. He finally did so. “Drake,” she said, in the calm tones one would use to address a lunatic, “you are asking me to elope with you.”

  “That’s right.” He waggled his eyebrows at her like a villain in a melodrama. “And if you don’t agree, my pretty, I’ll abduct you.”

  She tried not to laugh. “This is not amusing.”

  “I’m not joking.”

  Lilah looked skeptical. “You would steal me by force?”

  “You’d love it.”

  His words gave her a secret, shameful thrill. She bit her lip to hide it. “Elopements are for fallen women and fortune hunters and other riff-raff,” she said loftily. “I’ve no desire to start a scandal.”

  “Pshaw,” he scoffed. “There’s nothing to fear. What’s a little gossip? It always dies down eventually. Let people say what they like about us—we won’t hang about to hear it.” He gave her a sly wink. “I’ll take you home to Drakesley. Have you ever seen the Lakes?”

  “The Lakes,” repeated Lilah, feeling overwhelmed. She had longed all her life to see the lake country. “Oh, my. Is that where Drakesley is?”

  “Yes. You will love it there, as I do.” His enthusiasm was contagious. “We’ll tour the entire district, if you like. We’ll dawdle about for weeks. I’ll hide you till the next seven-day wonder comes along and the world turns its eyes away from us. By the time we see London again, sweetheart, our wedding will be old news.”

  Hope and doubt warred in Lilah’s heart. “Oh, if it were only possible!” she exclaimed.

  “Possible? Why, there’s nothing to it.” A clock chimed in the distance. Drake held up a finger to warn her to silence, and listened intently. “Two o’clock. Excellent. We can easily be ready in three hours.” His eyes returned to hers, bright with reckless determination. “I’ll meet you outside your door when the clock chimes five. No sense in leaving earlier; we’re not that far from London. We’ll borrow Uncle Nat’s gig. It won’t be as fast as my curricle would have been, but no matter. We’ll reach Doctor’s Commons before breakfast. Ha! We’ll be waiting on the doorstep when the offices open.” When she still stared at him, seeming not to comprehend, he squeezed her shoulders with playful impatience. “Doctor’s Commons is where I can buy a special license, goosecap. No need to publish banns. No need to wait for anything. You’ll be Lady Drakesley by noon.”

  The enormity of it struck her and she gasped, one hand flying to cover her mouth. “Lady Drakesley,” she repeated, dazed. “Great heavens above. Oh, Drake, we can’t elope! You’re not a clerk or a sailor; your marriage is a matter of importance. You must have pomp and splendor and dignity. There ought to be parties and announcements and—”

  “I don’t care about that,” he said impatiently. “The biggest nuisance imposed by rank is the legal folderol. We’ll have to have marriage settlements and dowers and portions and all that rot drawn up. But we can tackle it later.” Something occurred to him and he sobered briefly, searching her face for clues to her thoughts. “Don’t tell me you’ve nothing to wear,” he warned her. “I don’t care if you walk down the aisle in a burlap sack.”

  She gave a little spurt of laughter. “It won’t be as bad as that, although I do wish I had something wonderful to honor the occasion.” Happiness welled in her, irrepressible and sweet. She felt suddenly giddy with it. “Let’s do it,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I know it’s rash and ill-advised and shocking. I know all the gossips will dine out on our news for a fortnight. I don’t care.”

  Drake seized her in a bear hug and swung her round in a circle. “That’s my girl!” he exclaimed.

  And that was how Lilah found herself tiptoeing out of Wexbridge Abbey in the gray light of dawn, wrapped in her thickest pelisse and clutching a bandbox.

  Chapter 19

  The sun was coming up. They had been traveling in silence for a while, with no sound but the beat of the horse’s hooves, the jingle of the harness, and the creak and rattle of the gig itself as its wheels spun steadily beneath them, pulling them ever closer to London. The combined rhythm of these sounds seemed to be chanting words in Lilah’s brain, repeating an endless refrain: not clippety-clop, but runaway bride, runaway bride.

  She had a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. Why did everything look different in the clear light of day? It wasn’t fair. Eloping with Drake had seemed such a grand adventure. Now, as the light slowly grew and gathered, bringing the sleepy countryside to life around them, shame was dawning in her.

  Just nerves, she told herself staunchly. Every bride feels nervous on her wedding day.

  Except that she didn’t feel nervous. She felt guilty.

  She stole a glance at Drake, sitting ramrod-straight beside her. His eyes were, naturally, focused on the road. Was she imagining it, or was there a grim set to his mouth? Were those lines of strain around his eyes? Was he feeling what she was feeling?

  She hoped not. A lump rose in her throat. One of them had better be whole-hearted about this venture, or it was likely to fail. And although she was feeling far from easy in her mind, she desperately wanted to marry Drake. She just wished he had abducted her, as he had threatened to do. It would be lovely to wake up married to Drake…if it were all his doing, and none of her responsibility.

  Well, it was all his doing, she told herself. This wasn’t her idea. He had talked her into it. Lilah hugged herself against the cold morning air, trying to remember the arguments that had seemed so persuasive a few hours ago. They eluded her.

  She must be tired. She didn’t feel tired, but after all, she hadn’t slept all night. Her brain must not be working properly. She wanted to marry Drake, didn’t she? Yes, indeed she did. She didn’t want him stolen away by Eugenia Mayhew, did she? No, she certainly didn’t. Very well, then. She was doing the only possible thing. Since it was the only possible thing, it must be the right thing.

  But it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel right at all.

  She sneaked another peek at her companion. This time, he was looking at her. His expression was grave, and when his eyes met hers and he read the unhappiness on her face he slowed the horse, muttering rueful curses under his breath. “Out with it, brat,” he said shortly. “You’re having second thoughts.”

  “No, no,” said Lilah quickly. “Not that, precisely.
And kindly stop calling me brat.”

  “I’ll try.” He gave her a twisted smile. “But that’s not what’s troubling you. Is it?”

  She tucked one cold hand into the pocket of his greatcoat and snuggled against him a little, sighing. “No. I’m sorry, Drake. I suppose I’m just greedy. I want to marry you, but I also want an untroubled conscience.” She gave a shaky little laugh. “So far, I have been unable to reconcile the two. If I must choose between you and my conscience, I choose you.”

  His arm went around her, warm and comforting, but he said nothing. They drove slowly on. “I own, I’m not feeling as brash as I felt earlier,” he admitted glumly. “Plague take it! A conscience is more a hindrance than a help.”

  “Yes,” she said listlessly. “Often it is.”

  The arm around her tightened. “I won’t give you up,” he said fiercely.

  “Good,” she said in a small voice.

  “But here’s the thing, Lilah. We’ve been sniping at Sir Horace and Eugenia for days, despising their cowardice, and now we are acting like the biggest cowards of the lot.” He reined the horse in, drawing the carriage to the side of the road so he could turn to her. “Lilah, my love,” he said, with unaccustomed gentleness. “We can’t do this. We must go back and face them.”

  She clung to his hands. “Must we?” she asked miserably. “I am so afraid it will end badly.”

  “It may end badly. It won’t be easy and it won’t be fun. But we must see it through, that’s all. We must stand firm. I will be reviled for breaking my word to Eugenia, and you will be scolded for luring me away from her, and everyone will rip up at the both of us for meddling in the first place. Well, why not? They have a right to be angry. We’ve behaved abominably. But running off with each other to avoid a scene is…well, it’s unworthy of us.”

  She gave a rather watery chuckle. “Oh, yes. Unworthy of two such brave and noble persons as we are.”

  He grinned. “That’s the dandy. We’ll keep reminding ourselves how brave and noble we are, and that will shame us into right conduct.”

  “I’m not feeling particularly brave. Or noble,” said Lilah forlornly. She snuggled against his shoulder, wishing she could burrow like a rabbit into his solid warmth. “Aunt Polly and Uncle Ned are fond of Eugenia, you know. They are her family as much as yours. I’m afraid they will convince you to give me up and wed her. And even if it is the right thing to do—which, I have the most lowering suspicion, it probably is—I don’t want you to do it.”

  He held her, patting her comfortingly. “Hush, now. There’s no chance of anyone convincing me to marry Eugenia. You may have noticed, I’m a rather stubborn chap.”

  She had to smile. “Yes. I’m so glad.” Her hat was being crushed against his greatcoat, but she didn’t care. It was worth anything, to feel Drake’s arms around her.

  She felt his laughter rumbling against her ear, and heard it change to a deep growl. “I wish I could pull this blasted gig into that copse over there and ravish you,” he muttered.

  She pulled back so she could look at him. “If you are trying to shock me, you will have to try harder than that,” she told him primly. “It sounds a lovely idea, and I hope you will bear it in mind. I rely upon it, in fact—to make you hold your ground while your family rings a peal over you.”

  “I’ll hold my ground, all right and tight.” He gave her a crooked grin. “So—are we agreed? We turn round, go back to the house, and confess all. We then listen with patience to whatever my family has to say, beg their pardons most humbly, and stick to our guns.”

  “Right,” said Lilah, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

  He tapped her nose with his index finger. “Trust me. I’m not as changeable as the past few days have made me seem.”

  She forced herself to smile. “I’m delighted to hear that, at any rate.”

  His expression softened as he looked down into her face. “One kiss. To seal the bargain.” He tilted her chin up with one finger and bent his head to hers. His lips moved gently across her mouth in a kiss that was cherishing and tender. Lilah clung to the lapels of his coat and kissed him back, aching. It was terrible to fear, in spite of his assurances, that this might be their last kiss.

  The light was full, now, and she was dimly aware that their scandalous behavior had drawn the interest of a group of farm laborers in a nearby field. She felt their eyes on her, but didn’t care. There was a carriage approaching from the opposite direction, too, despite the earliness of the hour. She didn’t care about that, either. She didn’t care who saw Drake’s kiss; she defied anyone to make her feel ashamed of kissing the man she would marry. For she would marry him somehow, she vowed to herself. She would make it happen, come hell or high water.

  But it was neither hell nor high water approaching in that oncoming coach. It was Sir Horace Chadwick.

  He stared at the couple wantonly embracing at the side of the road—first with amusement and then, as he recognized the parties, with disbelief. He shouted to his driver to stop, stop!

  Sir Horace’s outraged bellow, combined with the sound of his berline being hastily drawn to a halt beside them, caused the couple to stop kissing. Lilah’s eyes flew open and she saw, past Drake’s shoulder, her father’s face—nearly unrecognizable with astonishment and fury, but definitely her father’s face, leaning halfway out the coach window. His face was larger and redder than she had ever seen it, and his eyes appeared to be starting from their sockets. Lilah squeaked. It was an inelegant sound, but it was the only utterance she was capable of at the moment.

  Sir Horace spluttered incoherently for a second or two, then managed to shout, in a terrible voice, “Delilah Chadwick! Get down from that gig this instant!”

  “Papa!” she cried. “Drake, look—it is my father!” She squirmed out of Drake’s grasp, nearly climbing over him in her haste to reach Sir Horace. “Papa, what are you doing here?”

  He goggled at her. “What am I doing? How, in heaven’s name, can you ask what I am doing? I have driven half the night to reach this place with whatever haste I could muster, only to find—” Words seemed to fail him for a moment. “What are you doing here, missy?” he shouted at last. His wrathful gaze lit on Drake. “And you, sirrah—earl or no earl, I’ll have the law on you if you dare to molest my daughter!”

  “So I should hope,” remarked Drake. “Lilah, pray remove yourself from my lap. I wish to get down from here and speak with your father.”

  “Oh, good. I wish to speak with him, too.” She straightened eagerly and held out her hand. Drake jumped lightly down from the gig and turned to help Lilah navigate the step.

  Sir Horace watched these maneuvers with angry amazement. “You are very nonchalant, the two of you—upon my word! Have you no shame?”

  “Not much,” Drake admitted. He kept Lilah’s hand firmly in his once she stood beside him on the ground. “I hope you will join us, sir, in a brief walk,” he said politely. “I trust your driver can look after our horses while we converse for a moment or two.”

  Sir Horace did not wait for the steps to be let down. The door to the coach flew open with a bang and he fairly tumbled out in his haste. “I’ll speak with you,” he promised, wrath still burning in his eyes. “And you’ll hear what I have to say, begad, or there’ll be the devil to pay!”

  “Oh, Papa, of course we will listen to you,” said Lilah soothingly. “But you must listen to Lord Drakesley, too.”

  Sir Horace shot her an angry glance. “I suggest you say nothing at present, kitten. I’m far too displeased with you to give you a hearing.”

  Lilah clamped her mouth shut, deciding that the most prudent course—for the present—was to obey. Drake stepped neatly between Lilah and her father and she clung to Drake’s other arm, doing her best to duck behind his large body and stay out of Papa’s sight. They had barely walked out of the driver’s earshot before Sir Horace exploded in wrath.

  “I am glad for the chance to speak with you, i’faith! I have a bo
ne to pick with you, my lord. I received a message last night from Miss Mayhew—such a message as I have never received in my life! I could scarce make heads or tails of it, but the gist of it seemed to be that you, sir—you!—were pressing attentions on both Miss Mayhew and my daughter, with what object I cannot conceive! Good God, sir, what are you about? If I understood her correctly—which is by no means certain—you renewed your offer of marriage to her. An offer I would not have believed it possible you could make, had I not witnessed with my own eyes and ears your utter disregard for propriety and decency!”

  Drake winced. “Now, then, sir, it’s not as bad as that—”

  “It is every bit as bad as that!” shouted Sir Horace, waving his fist in the air. “I have never seen anything like it! You will give me leave to tell you, my lord, that I find your behavior incredible! Incredible! I cannot express myself strongly enough. I’m a patient man, my lord, but you have driven me beyond the bounds of what any man can tolerate! Proposing marriage to my fiancee—my fiancee, sir!—not once, but twice! Without so much as a by-your-leave! With the banns already read—why, she’s as good as mine! Your transgression is hardly less severe than if you had attempted to woo my wife. For she is my affianced wife, my lord, and you would do well to bear that in mind!”

  Lilah was really alarmed. She had never known her father to fly into such a passion. He was normally a placid soul. She leaned forward and peeked past Drake’s shoulder, trying to see Papa’s face, but Drake smoothly interposed his arm, pushing her back out of sight. “Well, as to that point—” Drake began, but Sir Horace interrupted him again.

  “Is it your object to insult and humiliate me?” he demanded. “It must be, for I cannot credit that you, or, indeed, any man of sense, would deliberately embarrass Miss Mayhew. What have I done, my lord, to offend you? I have no recollection of ever meeting you before! What have I done to earn your enmity?”

  “Nothing, nothing in the world,” said Drake hastily. “In fact—”