by Cheryl Holt
Once either of those endings occurred, she’d probably never see him again.
She stood by the hearth, arranging her clothes and donning her cloak and bonnet. She gazed at him for as long as she dared, scrutinizing him, loving him. For yes, she was madly, passionately in love with him now, and she would continue loving him until she drew her last breath.
What would become of her? How would she stagger forward with this private, monumental affection buried deep in her heart? She had no idea. The interval had changed her. It seemed as if one woman had entered the small cabin and a totally different one was exiting.
She felt older, wiser, and very, very pretty. Adult secrets had been revealed, and she was delighted to have them divulged. She was ecstatically merry, glad she’d participated, but terrified too over the calamity she’d most likely ignited.
She tiptoed out, and it was dark and raining. She hurried toward the manor, praying she wasn’t observed as she crept in. She couldn’t imagine what time it was, but clearly, dawn was breaking. The sky was stormy, but the lane was visible.
Swiftly, she arrived and skirted around to a rear door that led to her room. Luck was with her all the way. Sane people were still in their beds, so the halls were empty. Her door was open, and she rushed in without hesitating. To her great consternation though, a housemaid was there, a coal bucket and a taper in her hand.
They both blanched and lurched back as if they’d stumbled on a ghost.
The housemaid regrouped first. “Sorry to startle you, Miss Drummond. I was lighting the fire.”
“It’s cold this morning. I appreciate it.”
Nell was drenched and bedraggled, her shoes and cloak muddy, water from her wet garments pooling on the floor. Her hair was down and hanging free, the ribbon left behind at Nathan’s cottage.
The housemaid was very perceptive, and she didn’t miss a single detail. Nell could practically see her mind whirring as she searched for an appropriate comment. Out of the corner of Nell’s eye, she noted her untouched supper tray on the table, prime evidence that she hadn’t been present the prior evening to eat the food that had been delivered.
It was blatant, shameful proof of gross immoral conduct. There could be no hiding the fact that she’d been out all night, just as there was no reason for her to have flitted off—except for illicit purposes.
“You must be starving,” the woman said, her professional competence kicking in. “Would you like me to bring you some breakfast?”
“Yes, I would like that,” Nell responded.
“And maybe some hot chocolate? To warm you?”
“That would be grand.”
“Your cloak and gown are in a bad condition. Would you like me to take them and have them laundered?”
“No, no, I’m fine.”
“If you’re sure…?”
Nell forced a smile. “I’m sure.”
“I’ll be back shortly with your breakfast.”
“Thank you.”
The woman couldn’t completely conceal a caustic, condemning glare, then she raced out without another word.
Nell was frozen in her spot, listening as her footsteps faded down the hall. Then she eased onto the lone chair. She dawdled in the silence, sick at heart, but deliriously elated too.
What would happen next?
Obviously, the woman would tattle. The scene had been too risqué not to tell someone. But who would it be? The other servants? Edwina Blake? Florence?
There was such imminent danger approaching that Nell could only brace herself and hope she survived the coming ordeal unscathed.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Susan was pacing in her bedchamber. She’d been trapped for hours by her mother’s edict that she hide herself away. Merely to aggravate Florence, she’d nearly marched down to supper, but if Percy had been there, she wasn’t sure how she’d have acted.
She was just so angry!
Her mother assumed she was cowering like a whipped dog, but in reality, she was fuming and making plans. Florence had admitted that she and Albert knew about Percy’s imbroglio, yet in spite of it, they’d been delighted to engage her to the contemptible scoundrel. Why would they have?
She’d never viewed her parents as being overly affectionate, but she’d believed they liked her and would never deliberately hurt her. Were they that determined to wedge her into an aristocratic family? Apparently, yes.
Well, they could jump off a cliff, and when her father arrived, she would tell him exactly that. What would happen after she did? She couldn’t imagine.
She’d spent her entire life working to please her parents, working to be the perfect daughter, and what was her reward for all that stellar behavior? Her mother had slapped her, then threatened to lock her in a convent or a mental asylum!
Susan would like to see her try!
The door out in the sitting room opened and closed. It was very late, everyone abed, and she whirled around, hoping it was Nell. Susan had been waiting for Nell to sneak in, but she hadn’t, and her absence was infuriating and unnerving. Where was her friend when Susan needed her the most?
To her surprise, Trevor appeared in the doorway. She was so astonished that she had to blink three times to be certain he was really there.
He was dressed all in black, like a bandit or highwayman, stubble darkening his cheeks, his blue eyes sparkling. He looked quite dashing, quite elegant, and the sight of him left her weak in the knees.
He didn’t speak to her. He simply marched over and kissed her. She kissed him back with a great deal of enthusiasm.
“I expected to talk to you all evening,” he said. “I heard from the servants that you’d returned from town, and I thought you’d be down for supper.”
“I couldn’t dine with you. I quarreled with my mother, and she sent me to my bedchamber as if I’m a disobedient child.”
“Why were you quarreling?”
“Nell and I went to London, and we saw your brother with his…family.”
“I’m sorry you had to witness it, and I hate that I upset you. Can you forgive me?”
“There’s naught to forgive. If I’m upset, it was only a benefit. I’m glad I was yanked to my senses.”
“Why was your mother annoyed with you?”
“I told her I won’t marry Percy. She claimed she’d force me into it, and if I refused, she’d commit me to a mental asylum.”
“You’re joking!” He was outraged on her behalf, which was refreshing and liberating.
“No, I’m not,” she said, “and guess what else?”
“What?”
“She and my father knew about Percy and betrothed me anyway!”
“That is too despicable for words.”
“I agree.”
He scoffed with disgust. “You can’t allow them to treat you like this.”
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to respond. My mother has summoned my father, and once he’s here, I can’t predict what will transpire. They might implement any punishment.”
“I asked you this before,” he said, “and you wouldn’t consider it. But you have to consider it now, and I won’t let you say no.”
“What is it? In my current mood, I will do whatever you advise.”
“Come away with me.”
She didn’t hesitate. “I will. Where would you like to go?”
“I think we should elope.”
“Elope!”
She scowled. Only the loosest doxies—tarts who were in the family way—traipsed off to Scotland. She’d always pictured herself as superior to all those slatterns. Could she choose such a disgraceful path? Could she toss herself onto that terrible pile of ruined girls?
“I don’t suggest it to insult you,” he hurriedly said. “I simply presume—if we leave with no plan in place—your father will hire men to chase after you and drag you home. But if we’re married, he can’t take you away from me. You’ll be mine, and he won’t have any control over you.”
“Yes, of course
he’d drag me home against my will,” she frustratingly mused. “Then, once I was back, I’m sure he’d lock me in that asylum my mother is so fond of mentioning.”
“So…we’ll head to Scotland. We’ll be wed before he can find us.”
Her pulse was racing—with dread but with excitement too. It was a wild scheme, like an event in a lurid romantic novel.
Could she do it? How could she not?
What if her father rode in and, after Susan presented her case, he declined to listen? What if he whisked her off to an asylum as Florence had threatened?
A daughter had no power to fight her parents. They could keep her incarcerated forever—if she continued to defy them. She couldn’t petition a judge to authorize her release. Friends weren’t permitted to assist. Lawyers couldn’t intervene.
She felt as if she was running toward a high cliff, as if she was about to tumble over the edge.
“I would like to elope to Scotland with you,” she said.
“Perfect.” He grinned. “I’m relieved that’s your reply, for I swear—if you’d given me any other—I was intending to kidnap you.”
“You were not,” she said. “Were you?”
“I was.” He puffed himself up. “It seems I have some of my Cousin Nathan’s bravado in me after all. I’m determined to succeed in this, and nothing will stop me.”
“I like this side of you.”
“You’d better get used to it. I won’t act like a trembling idiot ever again. I’ve spent too many years, living under my mother’s thumb and never standing up for myself.” Suddenly, he dropped to one knee and clasped hold of her hand. “My dearest, Susan, we haven’t known each other very long.”
“We’ve known each other long enough,” she firmly stated.
“I won’t lie and pretend I’m the best catch in the world.”
“And I won’t have you denigrating yourself. You’re a marvelous man.”
“Well, I don’t have any money or a home of my own, but the few things I do have—my name, my reputation—I offer them to you. I promise I will love and protect you until my dying day. Will you marry me?”
It was such a pretty proposal, and she couldn’t help but contrast it with the offensive one Percy had tendered after her father had agreed to the match.
He’d called on Susan, had pompously blathered on for several minutes, then had said, Our parents would like to betroth us. What do you think? Shall we give it a go?
She’d been informed that he would visit, that he would ask for her hand, so she’d primped and preened and had been anxiously, breathlessly waiting for him. But that had been the extent of his ridiculous speech. She’d been galled ever since.
“Yes, you silly fool.” Tears flooded her eyes. “A thousand times yes! I will marry you!”
He leapt to his feet and kissed her soundly, then he said, “Here’s what I’ve decided.”
“I was hoping you’d have some ideas, but whatever they are, I whole-heartedly concur.”
“I don’t believe we should tarry as your father rushes here from London.”
“That’s probably wise.”
“We should depart for Scotland immediately.”
“Oh…well…” She frowned, alarmed at how rapidly it was occurring. “How would we accomplish it? When would we?”
“I have two horses saddled, and they’re out in the woods. It’s raining, but the moon is up. If we ride like the wind, we can be halfway to Scotland by morning.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“Yes! How about you? If you’re certain, there’s no reason to dawdle, is there?”
She glanced around the room, wondering if she was mad, wondering what would become of her once she fled with him. Obviously, her life would never be the same. Did she care? Did it matter?
No, to both questions. If her parents would treat her so shabbily, why try placating them?
“Could I say goodbye to Nell?” she asked.
“There’s no time, and she’s too nice. She might feel too guilty to keep it a secret.”
“She wouldn’t,” Susan loyally insisted.
“I’m not willing to take that chance. Are you?”
She pondered, then shook her head. “No, I’m not willing to risk it.”
“Do you have a small bag?” he inquired. “You can throw some personal items in it—just enough that we can tie it behind your saddle. I don’t want to carry weight that will slow us down.”
“Will we come back to Selby after our wedding?”
“Yes, we’ll come back. I doubt Mother will welcome us, but it’s not her house. It’s Nathan’s, and he’s always liked me. We’ll be fine.”
“If we’ll be returning to Selby, then I don’t need anything. I’ll grab a cloak, and I’m ready to leave.”
* * * *
“Hello, Cousin. Let’s chat.”
Percy halted and glared at Nathan. He loathed his cousin and had no desire to talk to him, but he could hardly admit it. He smoothed his expression and forced a tepid smile.
Nathan was rude and imperious, viewing himself as superior to the rest of them and convinced he was smarter and shrewder too.
Percy was jealous of him as well. His bravery and pluck had made him a national sensation, with his exploits often mentioned in the newspapers. It was infuriating to have a relative like that. How was a fellow ever supposed to match up?
Also, Nathan had a knack for dealing with Edwina that left Percy green with envy. Over the years, Nathan had constantly battled with Edwina, and when he grew weary of her, he’d simply pack his bags and leave, despite how she ranted that he couldn’t.
Because Percy’s mother forked over his paltry allowance, and it was his only source of income, he’d never had that luxury. He couldn’t tell her to sod off. He had to cower and be scolded, had to ingratiate himself and conceal the fact that he was bristling with malice and aggravation.
Nathan was the earl, so all the Selby assets belonged to him. He didn’t have to grovel to Edwina for every penny, and there had been plenty of occasions when Percy had prayed for Nathan’s early demise. If his cousin had died on one of his bloody adventures, Percy would be earl, and he wouldn’t have to marry Susan to get his grubby hands on her fortune.
He was under such pressure! The wedding was less than a week away, and he was dancing as fast as he could. If he could just drag himself to the altar, then sign the pertinent documents, he’d finally be able to relax.
Pamela thought she might be increasing! He was sick to his stomach merely from thinking about it. How many urchins was she intending to produce? How many would he be required to support?
He’d warned her not to let it happen again, but she’d simply laughed and claimed that he should tamp down his urges if he didn’t want a baby to be the result. As if the man in the family should have to control himself! Children—and the minding of them—were the wife’s job.
He was vexed and exhausted, and with so many problems plaguing him, he didn’t have the patience or energy to spar with Nathan.
“At the moment,” he said, “I don’t have time to confer with you. Perhaps we could convene later?”
“I’m sorry, Percy, but it has to be now.”
Nathan was standing at the door to his library, and he was immaculately attired, as if he was about to traipse off and have supper with the King and Queen. He’d always been imposing, but when he was wearing such expensive, perfectly-tailored clothes, he appeared positively majestic and impossible to thwart.
“I can give you a few minutes.” Percy sighed, acting as if his acquiescence was a heavy burden.
“Wonderful,” Nathan said.
He whipped away and vanished into the room. Percy followed, and as he entered, Nathan had seated himself behind the massive oak desk.
Percy gnashed his teeth. He hated the ostentatious room and pretentious desk. His mother sat there when she was chastising him for an infraction. Evidently, Nathan planned a similar unpleasant encounter. What could
it be about? For years, they’d barely conversed, and he wasn’t keen to be berated by a man who was a near stranger.
Nathan might be the head of the family, but Percy didn’t recognize his authority.
“Shut the door,” Nathan said.
Percy complied, then walked over and pulled up a chair. He waved at Nathan’s bruised face, his black and blue eyes. “It looks as if you’ve been in a brawl.”
“I have been.”
“Who was your unlucky opponent?”
“My friend, Sebastian Sinclair. He and I had some…issues to resolve about our recent trip.”
“They must have been dire.”
“They were.”
Nathan stared implacably, his annoyance with Percy practically wafting out. If he was simply going to stick out his chest and be an ass, why bother meeting? Percy was busy!
“What did you need, Cousin?” He was desperate to move things along.
“Where are you off to this morning?”
“London. I have…ah…an appointment there.”
“You seem to have a lot of appointments in town.”
“So? As opposed to you, I have important matters that occupy my time. I must get to them.”
“Is your betrothed on your schedule at all today?”
Percy’s temper flared, but he tamped it down. “I’ll see her later. Will that be all? Is there any other information you require about me and my fiancée? Before you reply, I must categorically insist that my relationship with her isn’t any of your business.”
The comment was much too snide, and Nathan disdainfully studied Percy, as if he were dung to be wiped off the sole of a boot. Then, nonchalantly, he said, “There’s the most interesting rumor floating around about you.”
“How nice,” Percy sarcastically fumed. “I’m so glad to have been delayed by a rumor. What is it?”
“Apparently, you have a mistress in London—and two daughters with her that you’re supporting.”
Nathan tossed out the accusation in a casual manner, then he stood and went to the sideboard to pour himself a brandy. He leaned against it, sipping his liquor, watching Percy, expecting a response, but Percy couldn’t formulate one.