To Marry A Marquess (A Regency Romance)

by Teresa McCarthy

  "Enjoying yourself, my dear?" He swiftly placed his hand on her knee. Angrily, she flicked it away. His eyes narrowed, and he gave her a swift slap across her cheek. It felt like a crack of a whip, and Victoria's head snapped back.

  Her hand instinctively came up to rub the sting away. Tears began to well in her eyes. But she would not cry. She would not give the scoundrel the satisfaction of knowing he had hurt her.

  "Go ahead and weep, my dear. The sniveling boy will not hear you. I gave him enough laudanum to last an entire day, if not more. Not enough until we arrive in Gretna Green, but then I do have more."

  Gretna Green? Did he believe he could marry her in Scotland? It would take days to drive there. The man was mad.

  "I suppose you are wondering who that dead man was at the hotel." He raised a brow and chuckled. "The stupid servant did not fetch my dinner fast enough. Ah, but it was fortunate that he also decided to steal my signet ring at the same time, do you not think so, my dear?"

  Victoria felt her stomach roll. Had he killed the servant at the hotel to make it look like his own death?

  She was a fool to have believed that once she showed her face Wendover would honor his word and release William.

  "Lord Drakefield will follow us."

  "If he does, he's a dead man."

  But Victoria would not give in to defeat. Drake would find them. She knew that now. She did trust him. It was only a matter of time.

  Ignoring the earl's glare, she placed her hand protectively on William's forehead. She knew Wendover wanted her inheritance. But the stipulations of her aunt's will stated that she must be married for a minimum of six months for her husband to have access to her sizable trust.

  She guessed that Wendover would probably kill her first, pretending she was alive somewhere, saying he sent her off for a little trip to the Continent or some similar lie.

  She fought to clear her mind of the horrid thoughts. For William's sake, she had to find a way out of this. If only she had left a letter, telling Drake her plans. But he would find her. Time would be of the essence, and if Victoria knew anything about the Marquess of Drakefield, time was his specialty.

  It took Drake and James all night to find anyone who had seen Victoria or the boy. The witness, a drunken Lord Hazelby, had seen Victoria's descent from the window and other attributes of the lady as well. The baron happened to be passing through the neighborhood and had seen the lady in question jumping to the ground from the last knotted sheet.

  "Quite a good show," he had said with a hiccup, grinning. "Handsome ankles. And those shiny locks of hers ..." Hiccup. "But it was those legs that got my attention. Long and slim and, well, you know, old boy, they—"

  He stopped his informative speech as soon as he caught sight of the marquess's hardened gaze. "I only meant to say that she was rather fetching—"

  "You say one word of this to anyone, Hazelby, and I will meet you at dawn. Do you understand?"

  The baron gulped at Drake's command. "You can depend upon my utmost discreetness, Drakefield. No need to recall a thing. Saw nothing at all. Not at all."

  Less than an hour later, Drake paced the drawing room of his London townhouse, having ascertained that Victoria had stupidly hopped into a carriage only a block from her home. Also, Bow Street had discovered that Wendover hired a carriage from a stable near Cavendish Square earlier that day.

  James picked up his drink. "Doubt if Wendover's still in London, if that's the case."

  Drake strolled about the room, his jaw tightening. "Gretna Green is always a possibility. If my guess is correct, he wants to marry Victoria to make certain he retains the rights to her inheritance." He paused. "Not only that, I believe Wendover killed Nightham."

  "Are you certain?" James asked.

  "Nightham was in the way. It makes perfect sense."

  James frowned. "Cold-blooded murder?"

  "Yes," Drake said, making a fist. "They have almost a day's ride on us. But if I'm wrong, I need you here."

  James put down his drink. "I understand, but that does not mean I like it."

  A bundle of yellow curls brushed against Victoria's cheek as she swayed in her seat. "Laudanum," she said, her head tingling like tiny pins.

  "Yes, my dear," Wendover drawled. "I slipped it into your tea at the last posting inn. It was the only way I could get you here without speaking to anyone."

  "Here?" she said, frowning. Had it been days or merely hours since she had been away from home? Somehow, she vaguely recalled a dirty inn where she'd slept, or was it two or three inns? The laudanum was clouding her mind.

  "Yes, laudanum does seem to make time go by faster, does it not?" Wendover was so close to her, his sour breath blew across her face. His hand slipped to her knee. "Soon you will be my wife. Then I care not who you tell about what. For once you are my wife, I will own you." His hideous laughter resounded off the walls of the carriage.

  Victoria felt stripped as his gaze traveled over her person. Dear heaven, what had he done to her while she was sleeping?

  He seemed to read her mind. He smiled like a lion ready to devour his prey. "I am not such an ogre as that, my dear. I would not force you before we are married. I do have my scruples."

  Victoria felt the bile rise to her throat. What kind of madman was he?

  William began to wake beside her. "Vicki, where are we? I had a terrible dream about old Wendover. He was so mean. He was an evil villain."

  "Thank you for the compliment, boy." Wendover chuckled as he sipped from his bottle of whiskey.

  William huddled close to his cousin, his eyes wide with fear. "I'm ... hungry, Vicki."

  "You should be hungry," Wendover said sarcastically. "Tea and laudanum are not quite the diet for a growing boy. Are they, Victoria?"

  Victoria cradled William in her arms. She could feel his body trembling. Anger lit a fire inside her. "How could you terrify a child like this, much less let him starve?"

  "Starve?" he said calmly. "That is the least of your worries, my dear." His hand touched her leg again and he laughed. "Starving comes in many forms, Victoria. Many forms indeed."

  Drake pulled into the yard of the coaching inn and jumped down from his horse. He hoped his information was correct. Wendover would make his stop here. While taking a short cut across the fields, Drake had seen a black coach along the road, most probably Wendover's.

  He had questioned the owner of an inn about twelve hours back. Money and threats helped the owner remember a man of Wendover's description and a woman with a sleeping boy. They had ordered two rooms, the lady and boy having been guarded by an ugly-looking brute harboring a pistol in his coat pocket. Information was also supplied that this inn was to be their next stop.

  Drake knew it would be better to surprise Wendover at the inn, rather than stopping the carriage along the way and chancing a shoot-out, putting Victoria and William in danger. It would be more than an hour before they showed. He would wait.

  Taking a seat inside the inn, he ordered food and drink. He was tired. Hungry. And mad as hell.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The moment the carriage rolled to a stop, Wendover grabbed Victoria's arm. "Do not even think of leaving, my dear. The door will be locked, and if you dare make a sound"—he pulled a pistol from his coat pocket and pointed it at William—"the boy will suffer."

  A sudden chill hung on the ends of his words as he left the carriage, but instead of fear flooding her senses, Victoria was fuming with rage. She would not be his next victim and neither would William.

  There would be no help coming from the driver. In fact, the big lummox was guarding them now. And William was still sleeping off the laudanum.

  She gazed frantically about the carriage. The curtains were drawn closed, and she dare not open them in fear Wendover might see her. She eyed the small black case that he had stashed beneath the wool blanket resting on the floorboard. The case held the laudanum and heavens knew what else. She grabbed it.

  She found the whiskey bo
ttle stuffed in the corner of the leather seat and jerked it beneath her skirts. If nothing else, she would be ready when he came for her.

  "Vicki," William asked, his eyes blinking against his drowsiness. "Is he going to kill us?"

  "No." She turned and patted William's head, her throat growing thick with emotion.

  "H-he said he would k-kill me if I caused him any trouble."

  Victoria held him close. "I will not let him hurt you. Now, sit up and take some very large breaths. That's it. Feeling better?"

  A shot rang out. Victoria jumped.

  "Do you think he shooted someone?" William asked, his eyes widening.

  "I wish someone shot him, but I highly doubt it. If luck is with us, it was a highwayman." Victoria shook the carriage door, trying to open it. Drat! It was locked!

  "Vicki," the boy whispered with a shaking voice. "I hear footsteps."

  "Shhhh." She crouched on the seat cushion and pushed William to the far corner of the coach. "He's coming."

  William whimpered. Victoria took a few deep breaths, trying to control her pounding heart and glanced at her cousin. "When I hit him on the head, you run out of this carriage. You may feel drowsy now, but once the air hits you, you'll wake up soon enough. And scream like a real pirate. Someone will come to our aid."

  For the first time in days, William's eyes lit with excitement. "I can scream quite well, you know. I have been practicing. Can I curse like a pirate, too? Like Drake?"

  "I don't care what you say, just jump out when I tell you. Here he comes. Now act like you're asleep, and when I say go, you run like the devil."

  "The devil?" William asked incredulously. "How does he run? Mama said I'm not supposed to be like him."

  "William, run when the time comes. Now, hush."

  Victoria pushed William back and huddled against her seat, her hands shaking. For not the first time, she wished she had told Drake the truth that she loved him, whether he loved her or not. Now, she might never get the chance.

  She stilled when the door began to rattle. She could hear Wendover cursing with words she had never heard before. His sinister face appeared in her mind's eye and a wave of nausea rolled through her.

  "Vicki." William peeked up. "That is not—"

  "Quiet."

  "But—"

  "Hush."

  William covered his head with his hands.

  A second later, the door flew open. With a powerful swing, Victoria slapped the black case toward the man's face. Then came the bottle of whiskey barreling down on his head. Glass sprayed everywhere. The man groaned and staggered. Victoria slammed his neck to the floor. "William! GO!"

  "But Vicki—"

  "Leave! Now!" She gripped the boy's arm, yanked him across the seat, then over the man's head and threw him outside.

  "But Vicki!" William was almost sobbing.

  "I will be all right William. Run!"

  She was just about to step over the body and out of the carriage when a strong hand gripped her ankle and pulled her down. Her bottom hit the floor with a thud. Oh, merciful heavens! He was going to kill her!

  "HELP!" she screamed.

  "Confound it, woman! Do you always have to fight me?"

  Victoria stared back into the most heavenly pair of gray eyes that she had ever seen. "Drake." With a groan of relief, she threw her arms around his beautiful head of black hair, dripping with whiskey and bits of glass.

  He whipped his head back and pulled the glass fragments out of his hair. "Devil take it. Gentleman Jackson's is nothing compared to you." He raised his hand to rub his head and winced.

  "Wendover?" she asked shakily.

  "Dead. I shot him in self-defense."

  "You shot him?" William's awed voice came from behind the carriage.

  Victoria shuddered with relief. "He was a horrid man." She would have cried if it were not for Drake's awkward position. She giggled instead and held her hands to her mouth. "You should have told me it was you at the door. I could have killed you."

  "Hey, are you listening to me?" William stomped his foot as a crowd began to form in front of the inn.

  "Listening is not one of your cousin's good points, William," Drake said, glaring in Victoria's direction.

  "Drake, I had no idea it was you at the door." She scooted back.

  He scooted forward, pulled her out of the carriage, and scooped her into his arms. "You, madam, are going with me."

  "Truly, I did not think..." she said, cautiously.

  "You never think. You act on impulse, and I for one am going to stop that once and for all."

  Victoria did not want to ask how he would do that. But her pulse quickened at the speculation. For once, she kept her mouth closed.

  Lips pressed tightly together, Drake carried her toward the inn with an excited William by her side. The boy looked radiantly happy as if he was not affected by Lord Wendover's death at all... or the laudanum.

  "I did try to tell you, Vicki, but you refused to listen." William's little chest heaved up and down while he panted.

  She glared over Drake's arm that was wrapped around her shoulder. "Tell me what, William?"

  "I knew it was me pirate at the door all the time. I could tell by the way he spoke."

  Victoria glanced at Drake, recalling the string of curses spewing forth from his mouth. He shrugged as if to show her he had no idea what they were speaking about.

  "And pray tell, how did he speak, William?"

  "He talked like a pirate," William said with pride. "I told you he would take care of the villain for us."

  Victoria's heart swelled as she looked into Drake's smiling eyes. "I knew you would come. I should have trusted you. Will you ever forgive me?"

  "I will only forgive you if you will only trust me."

  She peered up at him, her heart in her eyes. "I do trust you. I did trust you. I just didn't want you hurt."

  "Good." Drake gently set her down just outside the door of the inn, and made no attempt to hide the fact he was studying her. By now a large crowd had gathered around them.

  "Drake?" she asked hesitantly. "Will they hold you for questioning? What about the magistrate?"

  The crowd began to murmur. Drake locked eyes with hers and she longed for him to hold her. Her throat filled with emotion, and she knew she needed to tell him now. "I love you, Drake."

  "I know, sweetheart." A muscle flickered in his jaw and he bent down on one knee, taking hold of her hand. "And I love you, Victoria."

  Her face blushed. "Please, Drake. For goodness sake, stand up. I know you love me. But everyone is watching us."

  "Confound it, woman. Would you please close that beautiful mouth of yours for one minute and let me have my say?"

  Her lips snapped shut.

  "Better." He pulled her hand to his lips. "I am asking you to be my wife. Please do me the honor of accepting."

  The crowd hushed, waiting for her answer.

  Tears spilled over her lids. "I would be pleased to marry you."

  "Don't ye know? Pirates don't speak of love!" William frowned and threw his hands toward the sky in disgust. "You just shot a man!"

  Drake rose and gave William a stern glare. "I shot the earl in self-defense, not because I wanted to. And love is very important for pirates."

  "Oh, yuck!"

  William scowled. The crowd applauded as Drake carried Victoria to another carriage owned by the proprietor of the inn.

  "We will be married today, my love." His voice was soft and gentle, caressing her heart.

  Victoria frowned. He did not know about her marriage to Nightham. She had to tell him. "But I cannot marry you. At least not—"

  Her mouth was smothered by his kiss. "Sweetheart, I have a special license and the vicar is waiting in the next village. I have obtained fresh clothing for you and William. And I know how important a wedding gown is for a woman on this special day. So, believe it or not, I have taken care of that matter as well.” He held up his hand, stopping her from speaking. “Do not
ask me how I managed. Suffice to say, we will be married tonight."

  Before she could answer, Drake captured her mouth again. She felt in heaven as she succumbed to the hunger of his kiss. All thoughts of Nightham and Wendover dissolved.

  "Hey," William interrupted. "What about me?"

  Drake let Victoria slip from his hold as he turned, lifting the boy into the carriage. "Inside, me pirate."

  "What about Wendover?" Victoria whispered as she entered the carriage.

  Drake hopped in and closed the door. "The magistrate happened to be in the inn when Wendover drew his pistol. There will be no investigation. We can leave free and clear."

  The wedding took only a few minutes. Victoria had tried to tell Drake of her former marriage, or at least the question of its finality, but he refused to listen about Nightham. It mattered not. He would not hear another word about the man. He asked her to trust him, and she finally agreed. What had she been thinking?

  When Drake bent down to kiss her, William protested. The witnesses took their leave and the vicar moved from the room to grab some papers to be signed. Victoria insisted she change back into her carriage clothes and pack her wedding gown. It had been quite thoughtful of Drake to obtain the gorgeous dress. She had no idea how he planned any of this.

  But that didn’t matter now. She had to tell him the truth. Yet her mind was still spinning from everything that had happened, including her marriage! Her marriage! She had to tell Drake the complete truth. She should have fought to tell him before the wedding, but the laudanum Wendover had given her had muddled her brain.

  When she finally approached Drake, she felt more in control.

  "You don't understand, Drake. I do trust you. But you must listen to me."

  His gray eyes devoured her. "Everything is fine. We are married. William will not come between us with his sword. The boy has seen us kiss before this." He turned to the small boy and winked. "Am I not correct, William?"

  "Aye me pirate," William said, frowning as he stomped his foot. "I have seen it all before, and I don't like it."

  Drake turned back to his wife. "I believe it is time you call me Jonathan?"