by Dawn Brower
“The duke expects you to run, doesn’t he?”
She bobbed her head up and down frantically. “He warned against it. That was enough for me to pause and think rationally. What game is he playing?”
“I don’t know,” he told her. “I’m not sure I want to.”
But he could thwart the duke’s plans in other ways. He’d make Estella his wife and there was nothing the duke would be able to do to stop it. As long as she agreed... “Why don’t we make him think you did.”
“How?” She wrinkled her nose up. “And where would he think I’m running off to?”
“Gretna Green—with me...”
“I...” She tilted her head studying him. “You want to put word out that we’re running away to marry. Even if we send your carriage to Scotland without us, then what?”
“We marry by special license, then go to Manchester Castle.” He grinned. It would all be perfect, and they would finally have the life together they should have had. “The duke won’t think to go there with the carriage already heading to Gretna Green. Garrick will help us, and we’ll be married by then anyway. You’ll love it there. He married this wonderful woman who likes to fence—she’s good too. Hannah would love a sparring partner.”
He’d pleaded his case, and all he could do is wait for her to agree to his plan. Donovan silently prayed she’d say yes. All he needed was her, and he could wait for her to make her decision—he just hoped it wasn’t too long. Her stepfather had plans, and as far as he could ascertain, it was a way to thwart them. London wasn’t that far away. They could head there and to his townhouse. He could start the rumor he was going with her to Scotland to marry. The carriage could be gone by afternoon, and they could be married by nightfall. They’d head to Manchester Castle right afterward.
“Yes,” she said. “I’d love to marry you. Not that you actually asked. This plan is rather hinged on that part.”
He felt like an ass. “I have a ring for you—custom made and everything. I had a grand proposal planned before you crushed my heart.”
“I know,” she said quietly. “Not the ring—I assumed you would have had one, but the part about having something special planned when you proposed—that much had been obvious. If it had been up to me things would have gone differently that night. I didn’t want to end things. You know that now, don’t you?”
“I do,” he replied. “I love you, Estella. Will you do me the honor of being my wife, allowing me to love you the rest of my days, and always being by my side even when things are difficult?”
“I will,” she said and smiled. “What’s next?”
“We go to London,” he answered. “Is there anything you need to pack?”
She shook her head. “Nothing so important it can’t wait. I would like to change into a gown though. Give me a few moments, and then we can leave.”
Donovan nodded and sat down to wait. It didn’t take long for her to change into a dress. She came down in a sapphire silk gown that emphasized her eyes. He hadn’t seen her wear a gown in a shade other than white before. While he had appreciated her male attire, he preferred her like this. She was stunning, and all his.
“Come, my lady,” he said then kissed her cheek. “Our future awaits.”
They walked to the nearby town of Sheerness. Donovan hired a carriage to take them to London, and the drive took most of the morning. Estella tucked her head on his shoulder. She yawned, finding it difficult to stop the exhaustion from seeping in. They’d had an eventful couple of days. Crossing the channel to France and back, and now they were running off to marry. As far as he was concerned, it was the perfect way to end it all. The carriage pulled up in front of his townhouse, interrupting his thoughts. He jumped down and helped Estella down. The butler opened the door to admit them.
“Bingsly, can you pay the driver for me?”
He nodded and went to do as asked. Donovan led Estella to the sitting room. The housekeeper entered immediately. “Good day, my lord.” She curtsied. “Will you be requiring tea?”
“Yes, Mrs. Wellsy.” Donovan nodded. “I need to go out for a while. Can you see to all my fiancée’s needs while I’m away?”
“Indeed,” she said, beaming. “It’ll be my pleasure.”
“Good,” Donovan replied, then turned to Estella. “I won’t be long, I promise. If you need anything at all...”
“I know who to ask,” she told him. “Go and make the arrangements. I’ll be fine here.”
Bingsly came back inside and bowed. “The driver is off, my lord.”
“Good. I have an important meeting I must attend. While I am gone, no one other than me is to be admitted inside the townhouse.” He frowned. “To be more precise, the Duke of Wolfton or anyone associated with him is allowed inside while Lady Estella is here. Not until after our wedding. Is that understood?”
“Yes,” the butler and housekeeper said in unison—they each had the same blank expression on their faces.
With those words, he spun on his heel and left. He didn’t take his own carriage. He didn’t want to call attention to himself, so instead, he walked down the block, and when he was certain he’d not been followed, hailed a hack. He directed him to the Archbishop. He needed a special license, and there was only one way to obtain one.
DONOVAN RETURNED A few hours later and several pounds lighter. The Archbishop made him pay a steep price for the license, but every pound had been worth it. He had sent a vicar ahead of him so he could marry Estella immediately. That, too, had cost him a lot. All a price he’d been more than willing to pay. He’d finally have Estella as his wife, and he’d be able to protect her from the duke.
He strolled toward his townhouse, whistling a happy tune. He’d taken the hack as far as his club, then walked back. It would keep anyone who might be watching guessing. He didn’t want to give away what he had planned. It wouldn’t do for the duke to get wind of anything before the deed was done. As he reached his townhouse, someone came into view. For a brief moment he feared it was one of the duke’s men, but then he recognized him. “Manchester,” he said jovially. “What are you doing here?”
“Where have you been?” the Earl of Manchester asked. “I’ve been looking for you for days.”
Donovan frowned. “It’s a long story. How did you know I was missing?” He hadn’t thought he was gone that long. What was a few days? Had he been gone longer and didn’t realize it? He had drank an awful lot of brandy... It helped him forget when it was too hard to remember. At least he no longer had to numb himself from that particular pain any longer.
“A mutual friend wrote to me concerned,” Manchester told him. “You look good and happy—what’s changed?”
“Oh, everything,” he said. “Come inside and I’ll explain. I have some things to arrange. I’m glad you’re here—there’s a few things I need to discuss with you.”
They went inside and Donovan ordered his carriage brought around. He explained to Gibbs what he wanted. They loaded an empty trunk onto the back of it. Once everything was packed, the carriage left as planned—without Donovan and Estella. While he’d been at his club, he made sure to boast about his upcoming trip to Scotland. He even hinted that it might be for matrimony. Anyone who would listen, he spilled it all to. Soon the duke would hear of it and be off looking for them. It made him feel rather gleeful to foil his plans for Estella.
“I’m getting married,” he told Manchester. “My intended is here waiting for me. Will you stand up for me?” He’d planned on asking a couple of the servants, but it was better if Manchester was there.
They walked into the sitting room. Estella sat on the settee sipping tea. The tea tray was laid out on a nearby table with a plate full of lemon cakes and extra cups for serving.
“Of course,” he said with surprise in his voice. “I hadn’t realized you were courting anyone.” “I’m not sure you could consider it courting,”
Estella said with a laugh. “Though, in his defense, he did a fine job of it years ago. It�
��s my fault it took this long.”
“Estella,” Donovan said. “I would like you to meet my dear friend Garrick, the Earl of Manchester. He was worried and came to check on me. It must have been a very serious note you received to leave Hannah.”
“Indeed,” he replied. “She’ll be relieved you’re all right. She’s rather fond of you.”
Hannah had been kind to him when he was at Manchester Castle. He was rather fond of her himself. “Estella likes to fence. I was telling her about Hannah’s skill.”
“Ah,” Manchester said. “She is quite good, but you won’t hear me admit that in her presence. I don’t know how much fencing she’ll be doing over the next several months. We’re expecting our first child.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Estella said. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
The vicar came into the room and cleared his throat. “Are we having this wedding today. I’ve been waiting for a while now.”
Estella frowned and glanced over at the vicar. The man must have given her an earful while he was planting seeds of their elopement. It was time to make the wedding happen so they could start their lives together.
“Everyone is here,” Donovan told him. “We may begin.”
The vows were quick and to the point. It didn’t take that long to make Estella his wife. He was actually in shock at how fast it was. A few words, a quick stroke of quill and ink on paper was all it had taken. They were officially man and wife. He was in awe of it, and part of him found it hard to believe.
“Weddings are like that,” Manchester said a tad too knowingly. “We make ourselves so anxious were sick and then they’re over in a blink of an eye. I barely remember mine.”
“Is that so?” Estella lifted a brow. “I’ll have to ask your wife if it was the same for her.”
Manchester laughed. “I’m curious as to her answer. We didn’t discuss it in length. It’s the after part we men are anxious to get to.”
Donovan couldn’t have said it better. The future was what he was looking forward to. Their life, their children, and an endless love. They had come so far, and for a while, happiness had seemed elusive. Fate had something else in mind for them. Sometimes life threw a surprise wrench in his life, and for once it was for the better. He lifted Estella’s hand and kissed her palm. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said.
“Now that the mushy stuff is out of the way,” Manchester interrupted them. “What are your plans? Are you taking a wedding trip?”
“Yes,” Donovan replied. “It’s a wonderful place too.”
“Really?” Manchester lifted a brow. “Where are you going?”
“Manchester Castle,” Donovan said with a grin. “I hear its lovely this time of year.”
His friend laughed and patted him on the back. “In that case, why don’t you join me in my carriage. I’m looking forward to spending the night in my own bed with my wife. I’ve missed her terribly.”
“Say no more,” Donovan said. “We’ll meet you outside shortly.”
With Manchester gone, he pulled Estella into his arms and kissed her thoroughly the way he’d been wanting to since he walked into his townhouse. She kissed him back with equal fervor. Some things happened for a reason. He couldn’t be certain why fate had kept them apart for so long, but he could be glad that they were finally where they belonged—in each other’s arms. He would always belong to her. He’d given her his heart years ago, it had taken her longer than he’d liked to claim it.
“Are you ready, Lady Warwick?”
“Always,” she said. “For you, I’ll always be ready. Lead the way, my lord.”
They walked hand in hand out to Manchester’s carriage. Donovan was so blind in his own happiness that he didn’t see anything around him. He lifted Estella’s hand and kissed her palm.
“Where are you going?” The duke stood at the bottom of the steps. “I told you not to run.”
The smile on Estella’s face died. “I’m not a little girl anymore, and you don’t terrify me. There’s nothing you can say or do to control me any longer.”
Donovan couldn’t be more proud of her. “You’re too late. We’re already married and there’s nothing you can do. Go back to your dark life and use your evil on someone else. You’re never hurting Estella ever again.“
“God help whoever you choose to subject yourself on.” Estella glared at him. “They’re going to need it.”
“You won’t get your inheritance,” the duke informed her almost gleefully. “I didn’t approve of this match.”
“Didn’t you say it was paltry in comparison to your fortune?” Estella asked. “Why are you keeping it if you don’t need it?”
Donovan had to agree. The duke had some ulterior motive, but he didn’t quite grasp what it could be. “It doesn’t matter.” He met the duke’s gaze. “We don’t need it, and he clearly does. Let him have it, and we’ll never have to deal with the likes of him again.”
“I don’t need her inheritance,” the duke scoffed. “But I will keep it. She needs to learn a lesson, and this is my only recourse.”
“I don’t need punishment.” Estella rolled her eyes. “Especially from you. I’m happy, and for once I’m going to ignore you to embrace that. My husband is right—the inheritance doesn’t matter. Have a good life.” Donovan approved of everything she said—if only they’d both realized it sooner. Maybe if Estella had shared her fears with him sooner they could have avoided all the pain, but things always seemed clearer when looking back at past mistakes. At least now they had each other and always would. She entwined her hand in his and smiled up at him. “Don’t we have someplace else to be?”
“Absolutely,” he agreed. Then they walked away from the duke and didn’t look back. They had a long and happy future ahead of them. Their fairytale had come true—in a twisted and backward way. But that didn’t matter because this was their new beginning. Donovan intended to cherish her and their life together—always.
EPILOGUE
Donovan strolled into the sitting room at Manchester castle. They had been visiting for the past fortnight. He didn’t want to return to London until he received word that the Duke had given up on controlling Estella. That came in the form of a letter from his solicitors—and his release of her inheritance. Something they hadn’t expected he would ever do, but it was nice that he had. They could officially cut all ties with Estella’s wicked stepfather.
They were enjoying their time at the castle. As he suspected, Hannah and Estella got along famously. Despite her husband’s order not to, Hannah still fenced. She’d told him that as long as her belly didn’t stick out, leaving her unbalanced, she would exercise how she saw fit. Manchester hadn’t liked to hear that from his wife, but grudgingly agreed as long as she took it easy.
Hannah and Estella had fenced earlier that very afternoon as Donovan and Manchester watched. The earl was anxious the entire time and ready to take action if necessary. Donovan would probably have reacted similarly if it had been Estella enceinte with his child. He’d be on pins and needles when he received such happy news. After the ladies were done fencing, they’d left Donovan and Manchester alone to rest in the sitting room.
Now he went in search of his wife. He hadn’t seen her in hours, and he missed her sorely. After years of separation, he loathed to be apart from her at all but respected her space. He didn’t want to smother her and give her reason to put distance between them ever again. He’d searched the whole house, not expecting to find her in the sitting room, yet that was exactly where she was. She sat on a chaise lounge staring at a letter, and another laying on the seat next to her.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s the most peculiar thing...” She tapped the letter. “I’ve not heard from Ryan or Annalise since I was exiled. Now, in the same day, I receive a missive from them both.” How strange that her cousin and stepsister decided to write at the same time...
“What did Cinderbury have to say for himself
? He could have stepped in to help you long ago,” Donovan scoffed. “And your stepsister was little help either. Not that I blame her entirely. She has no control over her own life.”
“That’s just it,” Estella said. “You can’t blame either one of them, and it’s Annalise that brought us back together again. Her methods were a little—harsh—but you can’t deny the results.”
Donovan was more confused than ever. What could Annalise possibly have done to aid their reunion? She, as he stated earlier, had no control. There was not much she could have done for either one of them. Though if he had to choose, he’d rather she helped Estella. She shouldn’t have had to fend for herself the way she had.
“You might have to explain all of that in detail,” he replied. “I’m not following your logic.”
“Here, read it,” she insisted, tossing the letter at him.
My dearest sister,
I hope this finds you well and happy as you deserve. Please forgive me for taking so long to come to your aid. It has taken far too long for father to stop watching my every move. No amount of apologies could ever make things right between us. With father planning your wedding to that old man, I couldn’t remain cowardly any longer—action had to be taken. I had hoped to help sooner, but alas, you understand how father is. It was for you that I had to remain disinterested, and it was my lack of concern for your welfare that helped me assist you now.
It was perhaps unethical, but I pray you’ll forgive my methods. Viscount Warwick was in a sad state, and it wasn’t difficult to ascertain the root of his misery. He missed you, my dear sister. What better way to assist you both then to arrange a meeting and reuniting you! When I found out about your ship, a plan formed and I took steps to place the viscount on it. One of your crew members was most helpful. Don’t be hard on him. Leeland wanted to see you happy too. The viscount’s drunken habits made it quite easy to abduct him. We didn’t even have to knock him out since he drank himself into a stupor. I do hope he’s given up on his wicked ways now that he has you.