A Scandalous Past (Regency Romance, Book 4) (23 page)

They had stopped briefly for lunch, but
Wilson was always present, and she had been unable to say another
private word to the earl. Though what she would say was lost on
her. She probably should have told him that she was just as in love
with him, but the words hadn’t come at the inn. She’d simply been
too stunned to say much of anything.

As the light slowly faded to darkness,
Cordie put down her book and rested her head against the squabs.
Clayworth was in love with her? It was almost impossible to
believe. She hadn’t even allowed herself to hope for such good
fortune. She really could have everything she ever wanted,
especially if she could somehow gain his leniency. Lady Staveley’s
advice would be priceless.

Besides, she didn’t want to worry about any
of that at the moment, too swept up in the heady feeling that
Clayworth was in love with her. It was amazing, as if she was
floating in the clouds, despite the fact that they were racing to
the Scottish border to keep her from ruin. Even so, niggling
thoughts crept in every now and then. Did being in love mean
something different to Clayworth than to herself? He must have felt
that way about Marina at one point, but it hadn’t lasted. How was
she to keep from going down that treacherous path? Was it even
possible? Was it inevitable that they would wake up one day and
just not love each other anymore?

The coach began to slow, and then it finally
came to a stop. Loud, raucous sounds began to seep inside the
carriage, then the door opened and Clayworth offered her his hand.
“Welcome to Doncaster, my dear.”

Wilson sat up with a jolt, blinking his eyes
into the darkness. “Doncaster, milord?”

“Do you mind changing the horses alone and
grabbing a bite, Wilson? I’d rather not leave my lady unattended
here.”

Cordie looked past Clayworth’s shoulder
towards the coaching inn. Two barrel-chested fellows were singing
at the top of their lungs, while others littered the yard, staring
at the earl’s coach with covetous eyes. A stab of fear went through
Cordie. This was not the sort of establishment she’d ever been
before.

Clayworth must have read the look on her
face because he tightened his grip on her hands. “You’re safe with
me, Cordelia.”

“They look rather dangerous.”

He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a
reassuring kiss to her fingers. “I had hoped to make it to
Pontefract, but with the horses we got in Newark-on-Trent we were
lucky to make it this far.”

Clayworth looked like a man possessed. His
face was red from the wind and his eyes were bloodshot. Cordie
hated to see him like this. The trip back from Scotland would not
be at such a pace. “I’m sorry,” she offered lamely. “I’m so sorry
to put you through this.”

A smiled spread across his face. “It’s a
small price to pay, when you’re the prize at the end,
ma
minouche
.”

He led her into the establishment and
quietly ordered a private room and dinner. Though they were quickly
attended to and the roar of the noise was drowned out some by
closing the doors, Cordie still felt ill at ease.  They
quickly ate a bit of stringy mutton, some carrots, and over-cooked
broccoli before heading back out to the carriage. “I promise,”
Clayworth told her, “our next meal will be better.”

Cordie smiled at him, relieved they were
departing Doncaster. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, my lord.
Who knows what is in store for us tomorrow.”

Wilson was already waiting for them atop the
coachman’s box with four fresh horses ready to carry them through
the Pennies.  Clayworth helped Cordie into the dark carriage
and then followed her inside. Before she could sit back onto her
bench, the earl scooped her up and settled her on his lap, cradled
in his arms. “I know exactly what is in store for us tomorrow, my
love.”

Cordie sucked in a breath and stared at him,
though he was hard to see in the dark. She shook her head. “You
can’t rest with me on your lap.”

His lips touched her neck and Cordie
swallowed, as tingles raced across her skin. Liquid fire pooled
deep in her belly and she clutched his arm that lay across her
middle. He was powerful and intoxicating, and she struggled to
catch her breath. Still it wasn’t enough. She wanted him to touch
her everywhere, to never stop.

But he did.

Clayworth sighed deeply and raised his head.
Though she could feel his eyes on her, she couldn’t see him in the
dark. “You are almost impossible to resist.”

“Then don’t,” she whispered. They’d be
married in a day or so, anyway.

“Not like this,” he answered. Clayworth
kissed her hair and Cordie rested her head on his chest. “Why did
you think I was wrong for you?”

Though she was startled by his question, the
soothing tone in his voice put her at ease. There wasn’t a place
for secrets between them. Life was going to be difficult as it was.
It would be best to get a fresh start. “Your marriage to Marina was
not a happy one,” she began.

“No, it wasn’t,” he replied evenly. “How did
you know?”

That was a bit embarrassing, but she had
started down this path. “I—um—well, when I was younger, I would
eavesdrop on conversations between my sister and Marina.”

“You were an unrepentant hellion even then,
ma minouche
?” he asked with a touch of mirth in his
voice.

“I hardly find the situation amusing, my
lord. Marina complained for years about your cool indifference. You
weren’t even there when she died along with your child. That is not
the sort of future I want.” His body tightened against hers and
Cordie winced. She’d probably said too much. Would she never learn
to keep her mouth closed?

“You’re right. I should have been there,” he
acknowledged. “But I hadn’t laid eyes on Marina in well over a
year. The child, as you can deduce from that, wasn’t mine and I
wasn’t at all anxious to see her.”

The revelation was shocking. Cordie was glad
it was dark in the coach, so he couldn’t see her stunned
expression. Marina had been unfaithful? She would never have
imagined that to be the case. She’d never even hinted at anything
like that to Eleanor. Then again, Marina might not have necessarily
wanted to discuss her own sins so freely either. Still, she was
astonished. What else was she wrong about? “I—I didn’t know,” she
said feebly.

“But it won’t be like that with us,” he told
her softly, tightening his embrace.

“How can you be so certain?” Something had
obviously gone wrong in his first marriage. How could he know they
weren’t fated for the same end?

“You’re the only woman I have ever loved,
Cordelia. Our future lies on a different path.”

Cordie stared at him, wishing for a little
light. She couldn’t see his eyes, and could only make out darker
shadows on his face. “You
never
loved Marina?” How was that
possible? She was perfect, or at least Cordie had thought she was.
She still couldn’t get over the fact that Marina had cuckolded
Clayworth. It was unfathomable.

“I don’t like to speak ill of the
departed.”

“Please, my lord. I need to know how things
were.”

He sighed, and his hand stroked her neck,
until Cordie relaxed against him again. “We didn’t suit. Not from
the very beginning, and I’m afraid the situation between us never
improved.”

“What happened in the beginning?” She needed
to know what sorts of things to avoid.

Clayworth took several breaths, and Cordie
thought he wouldn’t answer her at all. He was tired. Perhaps she
shouldn’t push him—

“Marina made up her mind that I was the
husband she wanted, and she went about making certain that
happened,” he finally began. “I’m not particularly social, you may
have noticed. But I’d gone to Town that Season, to escort my
sister, Flora.” His voice cracked a bit on his sister’s name, but
he continued. “I wasn’t of a mind to court anyone. That wasn’t my
purpose in attending the events of the
ton
. Of course, I
noticed Marina. She was beautiful, but so were dozens of others,
and as I said, escorting Flora was my top priority.

“One night I got distracted, which is easy
to do when you’re conversing with Astwick. Of course he was simply
Lord Chester Peyton at the time. Anyway, I was remiss in my duties,
and I couldn’t find Flora.”

Cordie could actually hear him wince with
the admission. Had she made Russell and Tristan feel the same?
Guilt slowly seeped over.

“Marina came from nowhere and said she knew
where my sister was. Fool that I was, I believed her. As soon as we
were in the corridor, she screamed at the top of her lungs and
threw herself at me. The ballroom emptied to find her shaking, in
my arms. Later she said she’d seen a mouse and had been frightened.
I was foolish enough to believe that too, at the time, and felt
horrible for compromising her in such a public way, unintentional
as it was. We were married by special license two days later.”

That was how they’d married? “I had no
idea.”

“It wasn’t how I’d hoped my life would go,
but I thought to make the best of it. The problem was, we didn’t
suit. We saw the world differently, and some things can’t be
overlooked or ignored.”

“What things?” she asked before she could
stop herself. She’d already intruded enough.

“Family, for one. Marina was an only child,
and could never understand my devotion to my sisters.”

“I could do with a few less brothers,” she
said, hoping to lighten the mood.

“No, you couldn’t,” he said with certainty.
“As repressive as you find them, I’ve seen the love in your eyes
when you talk to your brothers.”

“You haven’t met Gregory,” Cordie said with
a mock shudder. “He’s nearly as stodgy as you.”

Clayworth’s arms tightened around her again
and he softly kissed her temple. “There’s more I should tell
you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“You’ll find out anyway, and I’d rather be
the one to tell you.”

Well, that sounded positively ominous, and
Cordie tilted her head back again, wishing she could see his
face.

“Flora thought herself in love with a
scoundrel who ended up abandoning her when she discovered she was
with child. A few weeks after the birth of my nephew, she lost all
desire to live and faded away. Thomas is twelve now, the light of
my life, and he lives with me in Derbyshire.”

Cordie sucked in a surprised breath. The
Earl of Clayworth was the last sort of man she expected to raise a
bastard. “But he…” Her voice trailed off, as she couldn’t finish
the statement.

“Looks like his mother,” Clayworth finished
for her. “How could I not love him? And then there’s Rosamund.”

Lady Rosamund Reese. Cordie had seen her
once at a small country ball while she and Livvie were staying at
Prestwick Chase in the spring. “I remember her. She is
stunning.”

“She’s afflicted,” he informed her with less
emotion than she would have expected at such a pronouncement. “They
don’t know with what. She has grown into a lovely, young woman, but
her mind is that of a child’s.” He heaved a sigh. “So there you
are, Cordelia. I’m afraid you’re getting the raw end of the deal.
My family is filled with bastards and simpletons.”

Even so, she could hear the love his voice,
and loyalty was something she understood to the depths of her soul.
Cordie snuggled against him and kissed his chest. “But I get
you.”

The next day was tedious as they continued
their journey. Cordie awoke somewhere outside Penrith when the
light streamed inside the coach, and she found herself once again
in the company of Wilson and his light snores.  The night
before seemed like a dream. Despite the misgivings she’d had about
Clayworth in the past, she considered herself quite fortunate to be
his soon-to-be bride. He was honorable, honest, loyal,
devastatingly handsome, and he made her heart race.

Married life seemed promising.

It was late in the afternoon when their
coach finally rambled over the Scottish border into the sleepy,
little village of Gretna Green. When the carriage door opened,
Clayworth helped Cordie to the ground and everything seemed more
real. This was it.

With a crooked grin, he offered his arm. “My
lady.”

Cordie allowed him to escort her to the
entrance of a white stone blacksmith’s shop. A small child was
playing with a doll and glanced up at their footfall. “’ere ye here
fer a weddin’?”

Clayworth smiled at the child. “We are
indeed.”

The girl scampered towards the steps before
disappearing into the establishment. “Papa!”

A moment later, a man dressed in all black
and looking more like a vicar than a blacksmith appeared in the
doorway. “Ye lookin’ tae get married?”

“With great haste,” Clayworth answered.

The man nodded. “Come in, come in, sir. Have
ye go’ a ring?”

“I do.”

Cordie glanced up at her intended as they
stepped over the threshold.
He had a ring
? They hadn’t
stopped anywhere along the way to get one.

The man spoke to the child, “Fetch me two
bodies, Bonny.” Then he turned back to Cordie and Clayworth. 
“Step forward. Tell me yer names.”

“Brendan Reese, and my bride is Cordelia
Avery.”

“Well, Mr. Reese, aboot the payment…” The
man’s voice trailed off.

“Will one hundred pounds suffice?”

“More than enough, sir,” the man said, eying
them now from top to bottom. “It is sir, isn’t it? Yer no’ some
lord or somethin’?”

“The Earl of Clayworth,” he informed the
man.

At that moment, two brawny fellows stepped
from the attached house into the blacksmith’s shop. “Angus, Hamish,
will ye witness fer Lord Clayworth?”

Both men agreed with nods of their beefy
heads.

“Verra well, step forward, m’lord, Miss
Avery,” the blacksmith said.  He grasped Clayworth’s right
hand and Cordie’s left, and began to wind a golden cord around
their wrists, binding them together. “Repeat after me, m’lord. I,
Brendan Reese, take ye, Cordelia Avery, tae be my wife before God
an’ these witnesses.”