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Authors: Shana Galen

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BOOK: Blackthorne's Bride
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Sir Gareth was standing in the road, arm raised, face red, and curses ringing out after them.

Jack glanced at the two women across from him and knew exactly how Sir Gareth felt.

"Ashley, calm down. Everything will work out," Lady Madeleine said.

Jack snorted at her misplaced optimism. Nothing was going to work out. Not anymore. He was beyond help.

She ignored him and looked at Dover, now seated beside him. "Mr. Dover, I regret that this is not turning out as we had anticipated. If you have reconsidered and wish to call off our elopement, I will understand."

Jack looked at Mr. Dover, who sat with his pocket watch open on his lap. Some part of him wanted Dover to bail out. Even though he knew he would never have Lady Madeleine, he didn't want Dover to possess her either.

Dover looked up. "My lady, if you will still have me, I am most willing to undertake this journey. I gave my word, and I do not do so lightly."

Lady Madeleine nodded soberly, and Jack rolled his eyes. He felt miserable, and Dover's flowery speech wasn't helping.

"Ashley," Lady Madeleine said to her friend, "I don't know how your father found us, but it's not too late for you to go home."

"What, and let you have all the adventure?" the blonde said. Jack coughed. He was going to have to watch this one. She was the female equivalent of his brother.

"It's not an adventure," Lady Madeleine corrected. "It's practically a fiasco. You should go home now and—"

"She can't go home," Jack broke in, his misery doubling. "Not anymore."

Lady Madeleine turned her stunning blue eyes on him. "Why not?"

"Because I'm going to marry Miss Brittany in Gretna Green."

There was a chorus of dissent in the carriage, and Jack wished he could join it. More than anything, he wanted to get the hell out of the carriage and never see any of them again. Including his brother.

But they'd sped right past that fork in the road.

His course was set now, and, little as he liked it, he was stuck with it.

"I'm going to marry Miss Brittany in Gretna Green," Jack repeated over the noise. He was impressed how easily the words came out, especially when his stomach heaved at the very thought.

"No you're not!" Ashley shrieked.

Jack wanted to cover his ears. Dover, on the other hand, merely nodded. At least someone understood that this was the best and only way. Lady Madeleine obviously did not fall into that camp. She was gaping at him.

Damn, even that wide-eyed innocent look he hated on women was attractive on her.

"But—But
why?"
Lady Madeleine asked, her shock evident. "Before, you said—"

"That was before," Jack interrupted. "Before her father ambushed us and your friend there basically forced me into this elopement." He gestured to his fiancee—God, the very thought of having a fiancee made him want to empty the contents of his stomach—and she sat up indignantly.

"I did not force you to elope!"

"Then why the hell did you tell your father I was eloping with you? I might have convinced him I had nothing to do with this and gone on my way."

Ashley Brittany shook her head. "I was trying to help. I surmised that if he thought you were important to me, then he wouldn't hurt you. I don't want to marry you."

"Well, you're stuck with me now."

Lady Madeleine shushed her friend, cutting off Ashley's next remark. From the look on Ashley's face, that was probably for the best.

Lady Madeleine gave Jack a long look. "So you do have a sense of honor."

He laughed. "Honor be damned. I'm saving my own neck. Now that the chatterbox over there claimed me as her fiance, I've all but ruined her. If I go back to London and we're not married, her father will shoot me. Hell, any peer with an eligible daughter will shoot me. I'll be labeled a defiler of young girls."

Lady Madeleine actually looked sorry for him, which almost made Jack laugh. He hadn't thought he could be any more disreputable.

Of course, if the brunette knew what he really was, she wouldn't pity him. She'd say what everyone else would: that coward Blackthorne got what he deserved.

"Oh, don't pity him, Maddie," Miss Brittany told her friend. "If you read the papers more, you'd know he's a scoundrel, and so is his brother. The two Martingale brothers are known for drink and debauchery. Why, they've corrupted my brothers completely."

Jack laughed. "Your brothers need no corrupting from me, Miss Brittany. Like you, they find enough trouble on their own."

"How dare you—"

"This isn't helping," Lady Madeleine broke in. Her voice was still calm and soft, but it held authority. "What we have here is a misunderstanding. I'm sure if we went back and explained everything to Sir Gareth, you two would not have to marry."

"But—" Mr. Dover began.

"Shh!" Lady Madeleine said, and looked from her friend to Jack hopefully.

Jack shook his head. If only Sir Gareth was the sole reason he had to get out of London. But he wasn't about to worry her with mention of Nick's little altercation with Bleven. Even if Bleven weren't involved, only marriage to his daughter would stop Sir Gareth from shooting him on first sight.

"You're noble to ruin your own plans to help me, my lady," Jack told her, "but no one would listen at this point anyway. By now Sir Gareth's gone to fetch your father, and we probably have a bevy of footmen after us. The time for talking is done. I don't want to see anyone's father again until I'm someone's son-in-law."

"I have to agree with him, my lady," Dover said. "If we go back now, we're all doomed. Your reputations are ruined—"

"I don't care about my reputation!" Lady Madeleine argued.

"That makes two of us," Jack said. "But, as I said, I'm doing this to save my neck. You might not care about my neck, but you probably care about your fiance's. He'll fare no better than I if we go back now."

Jack watched as Lady Madeleine turned those big blue eyes on Dover, reassuring her fiance with a look that she would never allow him to face danger.

Jack felt like killing the professor. No one had ever given a damn whether he was endangered or not, especially not anyone like Lady Madeleine. He felt another stitch of jealousy knot in his heart and looked away.

Let the couple have their moment.

It was late afternoon by the time Jack looked back. He'd been watching the country roll by and assisting with the change of horses. They were making good time. He hoped to reach Stevenage before nightfall. The carriage had turned quiet, and as he surveyed his fellow travelers, he saw that all but Dover were sleeping.

Like him, the other man was peering out the window and occasionally checking his pocket watch. Each glance at the pocket watch was followed by a slight tsk.

Across from Jack, the two girls were slumped together. The brunette had her head on the blonde's shoulder. Lady Madeleine's eyes were closed and she breathed evenly.

Jack studied her, trying to remember if he'd ever seen her in Town. He didn't attend many of the ton's functions, so it was unlikely. Besides, he knew he would have remembered this exquisite creature. In fact, if they'd met under different circumstances, he might be the one sitting in Dover's place.

Dover.
That required another glance at the man beside him. Jack could not figure what the polished beauty saw in the professor. He supposed the other man wasn't unattractive—not that he knew how to judge that in other men—and the other man definitely appeared intelligent. Even now he was polishing his spectacles and looking ponderous.

Lady Madeleine obviously preferred intelligence over passion. There couldn't be much passion between the professor and the earl's daughter. He couldn't begin to imagine the dull Mr. Dover kissing the luscious Lady Madeleine senseless.

Too bad, because that was so obviously what the little brunette needed. He turned his gaze back to Lady Madeleine. She worried too much. Even in her sleep he could see that. There was a small crease between her two slender eyebrows that told him she was worrying.

Jack longed to reach across the carriage and smooth the line, to make it vanish forever. But he knew once he touched her, he wouldn't be able to stop. Sure, it would start with an innocent caressing away of that line, and next thing he'd place his palm on her smooth, creamy cheek.

He could imagine the silky feeling of her skin beneath his own flesh. She'd be warm and soft. So soft. He wouldn't be able to resist the temptation of trailing a finger or two to her lips.

Even now, in the dim carriage, he could see they were rosy and full and lush. Those were lips a man begged to kiss. Those were lips that promised so much more than they ever took. Jack imagined slipping his thumb inside that rosy mouth, and then had to shift and look away.

With a sigh, he went back to staring out the window. Riding across from Lady Madeleine all the way to Scotland was going to be miserable. He was half aroused just thinking of touching her face. He hadn't even begun to imagine exploring below her neck.

His eyes darted to the bodice of her pretty dress. The gown was purplish and white with small bows along the hem. The bodice was unadorned. No dainty bows for him to push askew there. If he just slipped one finger inside and touched—

"Sir?"

Dover spoke, and Jack pulled his eyes away from Lady Madeleine with a jerk of his head.

"What?" he barked far too sharply. Lady Madeleine moved and stretched, and Jack had to look away or embarrass himself.

"I was going to say," Dover continued, "that by my calculations, there should be a village up ahead. This would be an excellent opportunity to stop and change horses."

"Oh, good, we're stopping," Ashley Brittany said sleepily to Lady Madeleine. "My—er, legs are so sore."

"There's no time for that," Jack said shortly, rapping on the carriage's roof to alert his brother. "Your pistol-waving father is on our heels, and we have a long way to go to Gretna Green."

The hatch opened and Nick, looking wind-whipped but relaxed and happy, peered down. "I'm going to stop and change horses again up ahead," he said.

"We had the same idea," Jack replied. "But we tarry no more than a quarter hour."

"Agreed. Between their fathers"—he gestured to the girls—"and our own friends, we had better keep moving."

"Agreed," Jack said.

Nick dropped the hatch closed and began to slow the weary horses.

Across from Jack, the two women were now awake. Lady Madeleine, damn her, had her eyes on her professor. And Ashley Brittany was watching him, her look slightly less endearing.

He gave his fiancee a tight smile. "Excited about reaching Gretna Green?" he asked sarcastically.

"Ecstatic." She curled her lip at him. "I can't wait."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and break an axle. Your father will have the opportunity to shoot me after all."

"Sir, it's not polite to raise a lady's hopes."

* * * * *

Maddie stepped out of the coach, despite Lord Blackthorne's strict orders for them to stay put and be ready to depart immediately. Ashley had snorted at Blackthorne's command and jumped down as soon as the marquess walked away. Maddie and Dover had waited a bit longer, and then her aching muscles protested too loudly to ignore and she hobbled down.

The first few steps were difficult, but after a moment she managed to work out some of the stiffness. It was growing late, but she took a moment to observe the little village in the afternoon sun.

The town was a pretty place, full of snug cottages on a hill and neat shops on the main street. Maddie could imagine happy families living in those pretty cottages, sweet-faced children grasping the aprons of their patient mammas, who stirred pots full of hearty dinners for handsome husbands.

She sighed. Her mother had never cooked a day in her life and had certainly never worn an apron. Her aristocratic friends and family would not find her musings romantic in the least. But she couldn't help but admire the common people and their simple lives. How many times had she wished her own life were so simple?

They had stopped at a posting house, set some way apart, but, as was usually the case, it was near a pub, and Maddie could smell the succulent aroma of fresh bread and stew.

Her stomach grumbled and she tried to remember the last time she'd eaten. She'd had a small tart or two at Josie and Lord Westman's wedding breakfast but had been too nervous about her elopement to eat much more. Now she wished she'd followed Ashley's example and taken a bite of everything.

Ashley.

Maddie turned about, looking for her cousin, only to find that she'd disappeared. Typical. Knowing Ashley, she'd be gone for three-quarters of an hour and get them all caught and dragged back to London.

Maddie's stomach growled again, and she decided to check the pub. Perhaps Ashley was hungry and had ventured that way. But the pub was empty. It was too early for the locals to come in for dinner, and she was with the only group of travelers. Maddie did find a serving girl and paid for a small chunk of bread. Afraid time was growing short, she wrapped her spoils in her handkerchief and headed back toward the coach.

BOOK: Blackthorne's Bride
13.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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