He's No Prince Charming (Ever After) (24 page)

Unwilling to give him an inch, afraid of how he might react to Marcus, she quickly followed, dropping to her knees by the armrest. Seizing his hand, she pleaded, “Please understand, Papa. I know he’s done terrible things, but he was desperate. He didn’t take Ginny and me for self-gain, but for self-sacrifice.”

Her father’s eyes looked stormy, his expression clearly conflicted. “Danielle, let me process one thing at a time.”

She gnawed her bottom lip to keep silent.

“Let me see if I understand this correctly. After your mother…” He cleared his throat and shifted in the velvet-upholstered chair. Inwardly, Danni winced, realizing how hard it was for him to admit her mother had passed away, even after all this time.

“Six years ago, you started a business,” he tried again, skipping over her mother entirely.

“Yes.”

“And this business of yours, while pretending to be a bookstore, is actually a place where couples can arrange an elopement.”

She nodded, letting her father work his way through his thoughts.

“By
God
, Danielle! Do you have any idea what you’ve been doing?” His voice rose, louder than she’d heard it in years. It was actually near a shout. “Not only could it
ruin
you so thoroughly you could be shunned by the
country
, but you could get me tossed out on my ear from Parliament. Do you have any idea how many of the common people depend upon the work I do in the government? And there is the earl. This scandal could
destroy
him. And the others…oh, God, the fathers!”

He stood abruptly and began pacing the room. She had never witnessed him in such a panic.

Danni grasped at his arm, seeking to calm him. “I
do
know how bad this could become, which is why I’ve kept my real identity hidden.”

“That obviously wasn’t enough if that…that
monster
was able to take advantage of you! Not to mention the admiral and his men now know about you.” He paused and then started towards the study door. “I must go meet with him. See what damage I can repair.”

Danni rose to her feet, ignoring everything but the icy hot rage flooding her body. “He is
not
a monster! He is a man and the one I
love
!”

Her father turned to her, his face filled with righteous anger and rampant worry. “You love him? He blackmailed you! He
used
you, Danielle. What’s to say he won’t again?”

Danni bit her tongue. He was worried about her, and the ramifications for their futures. She knew that, but she resented it. How dare he start to care about her again,
now
, after all these years? What gave him the right to speak to her as if she were still a child, who didn’t know her own mind and the consequences of her actions?

Gathering her courage, she met her father square in the eye, refusing to waver, to prove to him that she was no longer the little girl he’d left behind when his wife died. “If he is using me, then it is my mistake to make. All I ask is your help to secure his release. Then, if he’ll still have me, I want to marry him.”

Her father’s eyes widened in shock. His mouth opened, as if to speak, before it snapped shut with an audible click.

A sudden knock on the door shattered the tension between them. Both heads turned to the door as the butler pushed it open and bowed. He announced, “His lordship, the Earl of Hemsworth, has arrived, my lord.”

Her father nodded silently, and the moment the door closed, her father sagged back into the chair. His crushed, defeated demeanor was startling. He looked so much older. And so very tired.

“I forgot the earl was coming.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He has been asking for news of you every day.”

Danni pushed away the guilt she felt at the statement. Checking for news of her after she’d disappeared was very like him. She doubted he’d have spread gossip about her, either, and would be forever thankful for his discretion. She understood the rules of the
ton
, and even though she distained many of them, it would be difficult to maintain her family’s current status within society if it became known she’d vanished without a chaperone. People would assume the worst. Ironically, in this instance, they would be right.

“Go meet with him, Danielle. I need a moment to gather my thoughts.”

Obediently, she rose and headed to the drawing room where the earl would be waiting. Her mind was awhirl with thoughts of Marcus and her father, but right now, she had another task—explaining all this to the Earl of Hemsworth. She knew it would be difficult. Not only did he seem to genuinely care for her, but their names had been linked with the intention of marriage for months. He’d be humiliated and didn’t deserve that.

But, more important, he didn’t deserve a wife who would never love him, and who would compare him to another for the rest of their days. They’d both be miserable.

Opening the door of the drawing room revealed said man pacing restlessly before the bay window. He abruptly turned towards her and froze. Even obviously agitated, Michael Rathbourne, Earl of Hemsworth, was an extremely attractive man. His honey-brown hair was cropped short on the sides and artfully windswept atop his head. His finely cut clothes framed a tall, lean figure. Warm hazel eyes radiated kindness to friends and ruthlessness to foes. He was self-confident, successful, and ambitious—he knew exactly what he wanted out of life and was determined to achieve it.

Many women would have fainted at the thought of him in their parlor. And over the course of his courtship, Danni was well aware of more than one debutante’s hateful glances in her direction for “snagging” the earl. He was the
ton
’s angel, revered by men and fawned over by women.

He did absolutely nothing for her.

All she could think about was how he compared to Marcus. How Hemsworth’s eyes were much too brown. How his hair was too dark and straight. How his physique was too lithe and his face too smooth, too
perfect
. His confidence bordered on arrogance, and his strict adherence to propriety was exhausting.

God, how could she have ever contemplated marrying this man? She’d be bored to tears within the first week of their marriage.

“Miss Strafford!” His exclamation was followed with a shocking display of affection. Lord Rathbourne, ever the gentleman,
touched
her. Of course, it was only to grab her shoulders and give her a comforting squeeze, but the man hadn’t so much as kissed her cheek during their courtship. “I’m so glad you’re all right. Where have you been? Your father and I have been worried sick.”

Danni offered him a hesitant smile. How the bloody hell did one end a courtship? She’d heard the younger girls discuss the issue all the time, but she suddenly couldn’t remember any of it. Especially when faced with such obvious relief at her well-being.

Mustering up her courage, she replied weakly, “I’m sorry. My time away wasn’t planned.”

“Of course. You’re much too sensible.”

She bit back a snort. Sensible? Even Danni could admit that wasn’t one of her virtues. “Thank you, my lord.”

“I told you to call me Michael. Now that you’re back and once we’ve made sure you are unharmed, we can see about moving this engagement along. There is a big vote in Session next week and I need Seaton’s support.”

Danni clenched her fist. She knew he didn’t mean to be callous. He was simply confirming to her what their union had been about—political ambition.

She would thank fate every day that she’d met Marcus. He’d shown her what real love was, and now she would never be able to settle for anything less.

“Lord Rathbourne,” she spoke more firmly. His brows rose in surprise at the tone. She’d always presented herself as meek and biddable in the past. She was certain this new facet of her personality would send him into shock.

Stepping back from his gentle hold, she met his warm eyes, trying to push away the guilt that consumed her. “I regret to inform you that I will no longer be able to agree to the arrangement made by you and my father.”

“P-Pardon?”

“I will not marry you.”

His eyes widened and his gloved hands hung limply at his side. Confusion colored his features as he exclaimed, “But why? I thought…”

Managing a soft smile for his benefit, she whispered, “I thought so, too. You are a good man, Lord Rathbourne, and any woman would be lucky to be your wife; however, I cannot.”

He half turned away from her, running his hand through his hair. A lock fell across the frown creasing his forehead. Turning to face her again, hurt clear in his gaze, he asked, “Would you care to explain this sudden change of heart? I really do care for you, Danielle. Did I do something wrong?”

God, she felt as if she’d kicked a puppy. How come he’d chosen now, of all times, to use her Christian name for the first time? Still, he was right. She owed him nothing less than the truth. So she said the words that she hoped would explain everything.

“I fell in love.”

The man straightened, as if shocked. His hazel gaze assessed her, looking for the validity of her statement. And then he did something that made her wish she could love him, because he so clearly deserved it.

His eyes softened and a small smile tilted the corner of his lips, revealing a dimpled cheek. “Well, I’ll be damned. Congratulations, Danielle.”

Her heart broke in a new place. He was
such
a good man.

Just then, the door of the drawing room opened, revealing a harried-looking baron. He glanced between the two of them and groaned. “What are you doing, Danielle?”

“I have broken off with the earl. It’s the only right thing to do.”

“But the vote—!”

“I must assure you that nothing has changed on that front, Seaton,” the earl said, looking a bit forlorn. “We’ll speak about the vote at a later date. Obviously, you and Danielle have much to discuss.”

Turning to Danni, he gave a smart bow. “I’m glad you are back, safe and sound. Perhaps you will tell me exactly what happened at another time, when cooler heads can prevail.”

She smiled. “I will. Thank you for understanding.”

He bowed to her father, but then hesitated at the threshold. Looking back over his shoulder, he gave her a sad smile. “He’s a lucky man.”

All was quiet until the front door clicked shut, signaling the earl’s departure from the house. Then she turned on her heel to escape her father’s anger and confusion. She’d just managed to brush past him in the doorway before he caught her arm.

“I don’t understand. You’ve never behaved like this before.”

“Yes, I have,” she snapped, suddenly feeling exhausted. It was too much. Everything that had happened over the past week was finally taking its toll. She didn’t want to tiptoe around her father anymore. She didn’t want to feel so anxious about upsetting him, or worried she’d say something to remind him of her mother. It was about time he realized there was more to living than breathing.

Filling her lungs, she let it all out. “The only reason I agreed to consider the earl in the first place was to make you happy again.”

“What are you talking about?”

She scoffed. “You’ve withdrawn completely, burying yourself in politics. While you grieved for Mother, I was still here grieving, too. I’ve watched you, Papa. You never smile anymore, you never tell me the latest absurdity from Session, you never say ‘Good night, I’ll see you in the morning’ or ‘Love you, poppet’ anymore. You haven’t been yourself in a very long time, and I wanted to fix that. Desperately. Foolishly, I believed marrying Lord Rathbourne would restore your old self.”

Danni panted, trying to catch her breath after relieving herself of her pent-up frustration at her father. It was terrifying and liberating at the same time. “Thankfully, I realized our marriage wouldn’t make anyone happy, not truly. One lesson I learned this week is that one person cannot sacrifice themselves to make another happy. It doesn’t work. Too many are hurt in the process. We can only do what is best for ourselves, and hope others will understand and eventually accept our decisions because they love us.”

He stared at her for several moments, clearly unsure what to say.

“That is what I need from you, Papa,” she continued. “I need you to understand that my marriage to the earl was not going to make any of us happy. But you can help me marry the man I have chosen for myself. You have to trust that I have chosen someone who I want and who I believe will make me happy, and from that, maybe you can reclaim some happiness, too.”

Gritting her teeth, she turned on her heel again, marching towards the stairs to her room. She would try to sleep and then, when she woke up, she would exhaust herself trying to save Marcus.

“Danielle!” her father called behind her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going to rest for tonight, and then I am going to save Marcus, Papa. With or without your help.”

T
he dungeon door shuddered under Marcus’s boot. He gritted his teeth against the vibrations; his foot had long since gone numb. The shouting of the guards had stopped. They were waiting for him to tire out. He slammed it again, fighting rising panic. He hated dungeons, prisons, and enclosed spaces. With one last shuddering thud, Marcus fell back against the wall. His heart hammered as he fought for calm. Dark shadows of his childhood terrors danced wickedly before his eyes.

He growled, trying to remain calm. He slid down the wall, heavy helplessness settling over his shoulders. Dampness seeped through his worn shirt, stealing away any body warmth he had. Marcus rested his chained wrists on the tops of his knees. He dug his boots into the dirt and straw, trying not to inhale the rancid air. The prison cell was larger than he would expect for someone scheduled for the noose. It was a luxury compared to the dungeons at Fleetwood Manor. He knew from personal experience.

His hands tightened, the irons on his wrists cutting his flesh.

Danni.

Her smiling face flashed before him. The image of her calmed his chaotic memories, and replaced them with crushing sadness. She’d lied to him. She had never really trusted him. And as much as it hurt, as much as he felt betrayed, he knew he deserved it. After all, he hadn’t given her a reason to divulge such information without fear he’d use it against her. Not until the very end. Not until he’d realized their love meant far more than money.

He stomped his numb foot into the ground, trying to awaken it. He knew his discomfort would only increase the longer he remained in this hellhole. Just as he knew the pain constricting his chest would never ease. His eyelids dropped to shut out his surroundings. He’d been a fool to believe he could escape the consequences of kidnapping Ginny. A foolish, rash decision made in desperate moments by a man so steeped in brandy and nightmares he could barely reason.

How could he be angry with Danni for not offering herself as a sacrificial lamb on the altar of his lunacy?

And then there was Caroline.

Now his sister would be alone in the world, all of her family gone. Facing marriage to Harwood, she would be left without a male relation to fight the codicil for her. He could only hope her friends, the St. Leons, would watch over her.

Bitterness welled up in the back of his throat, washing his mouth with acidic self-loathing. He was such a
bloody
idiot.

His bowed head rested in his cold hands. The silence surrounding him crawled with real and imagined creatures. Marcus wondered how long he had. He didn’t believe his title would spare him from the gallows. The admiral was determined to see him hang. This would be the end for him. He just wanted it as soon as possible.

Danni’s face flitted through his memory again. This one filled with pained caramel eyes. She regretted not telling him, even if she was justified. He knew she cared about him, although he did not think she loved him as much as he did her. He was certain being with him for so long and in such a stressful situation must have impaired her judgment. No one could ever love a beast like him.

They were better off ending this way. She could marry her fiancé, whom she could have complete trust in. And Marcus would most likely hang.

If he was honest with himself, the prospect of death didn’t terrify him. Death would be a release from his constant torment. Neither his father’s torture nor Danni’s soft touches and heated sighs would ever haunt him again. No, the afterlife didn’t scare him, but how he would get there did.

He shook his head of the grim thoughts. He’d sworn to be better, to try harder to escape his dark thoughts. The scurry of something in the dark caught his eye. He shuddered. He hated rats. With a grim smile, he wondered if carnivorous rabbits might dine on the plagued species.

The jingling clink of keys drew his attention. Turning his head in the direction of the large wooden door, he waited, curious if perhaps he might have a cell mate. The soft glow of fire peeped through the small, bar-lined square in the door as two sets of footsteps drew closer. They stopped outside his carved door. Rattling keys echoed off the stone walls as the jailer sought the right one. There was a slight scrape of metal meeting metal before the lock clinked open and the door swung in.

A tall man, rounded with age, stepped in. His hair was speckled with shades of gray and his face was lined with fatigue. His gaze swept about the room, taking in the deplorable conditions, before focusing on him. The brown gaze dissected him, sharp and unrelenting. Marcus felt himself straighten under the scrutiny. He stood, hoping his full height and fearful countenance would intimidate his visitor. Was he about to learn his fate?

The silence stretched and uncertainty set in. Surely he did not come just to gawk at the infamous Beast finally put in his cage.

“So you’re the man who captured my daughter’s heart.”

Marcus jerked at his visitor’s words. Taken aback, he closely searched his visitor’s face. The resemblance was there. The shadow of Danni’s jawline was present in the determined jut of his chin. Her eyes crinkled at the corners in the same manner as this old man’s. The same small ears.

He looked away. “With all due respect, sir, I believe you must be mistaken.”

Danni’s father arched a brow in skepticism. Marcus averted his scarred left side further, his chains rattling. He could feel the baron give him another once-over. “You are not exactly the man I imagined for my daughter, Fleetwood.”

A grim smile lifted the corners of Marcus’s mouth. “I’d wager no parent imagines his daughter with me.”

The man grunted his agreement. He leaned back against the open doorway, waving the guard away. Arms crossed over his chest, he said, “Danni has explained your predicament to me. Your father was a despicable man. However, I cannot say I approve of your behavior as well.”

Marcus shifted uneasily, irons clinking. The Baron of Seaton was well known for his radical liberal politics. Peers and commoners alike viewed him with a mixture of suspicion and awe.

“I did what I thought I had to. Although Danni was very vocal as she pointed out the errors of my ways.”

The baron chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Yes, well, she has always had a way with words.”

It was Marcus’s turn to grunt. The baron glanced down at his feet before he stared fiercely into Marcus’s eyes. “Do you love my daughter, Fleetwood?”

Marcus gulped, looking away. He fought a tide of self-loathing and hate. He ached with missing her. With wanting her. With loving her. But he did not deserve her.

A sigh came from the door. He turned to meet the older man’s strained expression. “I have muddled up.”

Marcus was surprised at Lord Strafford’s statement.

Danni’s father frowned. “I was so immersed in my grief for my wife—God rest her soul—that I neglected my lovely daughter.” His voice wavered, almost imploring Marcus to understand. “Danni’s season was cut short by my Mary’s death. Consumption.” He gulped audibly. “I must admit now that her death, in essence, left Danni without both parents.”

Marcus nodded. He’d heard some of this story from Danni on the road. A shuddering breath wracked the man in front of him. Marcus could hear the pain of his wife’s passing still in his voice, even years later. Marcus could empathize. He did not know what he would do if something happened to Danni. He may never see her again, but knowing she was safe with her family eased some of the ache in his chest.

Seaton continued, his throat thick and voice strained. “For a long time after Mary’s death, I could not bring myself to care about anything. The one person who’d made my life feel worth living had been taken from me and I couldn’t understand why. I spent hours buried in my work, trying to forget. And Danni…The girl looks so much like Mary. A spitting image. It was so hard…so hard to see Danni’s face and not think of my wife.”

“Danni should have given you purpose. Not your politics.”

“I know that now.” He ran a hand down his face. His shoulders slumped. “Today, I finally remembered I had a daughter, and at the same time, I realized how much of life I let pass by while missing my wife. How much joy I failed to see. When I finally
saw
her, I found a grown woman in the place of my little girl. She’d managed to create a new family with her friends. I saw someone who’d successfully survived the loss of both her parents, one from death and one from neglect. And I also saw my little girl in desperate need, crying and begging me for help to save a man who’d dragged her into criminal activity.”

Marcus cringed at his condemnation and leaned against the wall, unsettled.

“Tell her to forget me. I am to die for my crimes. She should find someone else to marry and move on with her life.”

“Would that it were only that simple.”

Marcus grunted in agreement.

The baron continued, “Realizing that I’ve missed a large piece of my life while consumed with pain, I feel I must offer some advice—do not make the same mistake I did.”

Marcus’s chains rattled as he swiped his hand through his dirty curls. His heartbeat quickened, his heart suddenly leapt with hope. Would Danni’s father offer wisdom if Marcus were to hang in a few days? Could it be possible this man was here to assist him?

Seaton hesitated. “I know you have spent a lot of time with Danni. Unchaperoned.”

Marcus fought to keep the heat in his cheeks at bay and averted his eyes.
That
territory was not something he wished to explore with him.
With anyone.

Her father sighed. “I can’t say I’m thrilled to be giving up the match between Hemsworth and Danni, but because Danni professes a sincere love for you, I’m willing to give you a chance to prove your worth.”

Marcus stiffened, budding hope and anxiety warring within him. Marcus shook his head, confused. Shouldn’t he be telling him to stay away from his daughter? Shouldn’t he be saying she deserves better? And how could he prove his worth against the Earl of Hemsworth? The bloody angel of the ton
versus
him? The absurdity of such a comparison made him snort.

The man chuckled. “It does seem like you have little chance, my boy, but Danni chose you, so there
must
be something in you I can like.”

Marcus kept his face straight at the insult and name. He wasn’t anyone’s boy.

Seaton glanced down at Marcus’s wrists and grimaced at the irons around them. “Remind me to put forth a bill for better prison conditions.”

Marcus shifted his weight, still unsure exactly what was going on. “Why did you come here, exactly?”

The baron seemed genuinely surprised. “Thought you’d have worked that out by now. This little chat is the price you had to pay for all the trouble I went through to secure your release.”

Marcus froze. He could not have heard that right. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said you are free. Never thought to see it in all my days, Fleetwood.”

His brow knit in confusion.
He was free?
The admiral wanted him dead.

The man continued, disbelief smoothing his features. “There I was in the admiral’s home, practically begging on my knees for your freedom. It is the only thing Danni has ever requested of me, and I was fairly certain I wasn’t going to succeed. But then all seven of his daughters filed into the room, led by Ginny.” He paused, flashing Marcus a wry smile. “My friend is a national hero. He has bravely faced down some of our most vicious enemies on the high seas, but he could not withstand the will of those girls.” He snorted and smiled. “Amazing. No one in Parliament would ever believe me.”

“Ginny and her sisters
helped
me?”

Seaton visibly relaxed and broke into a grin. “It was rather glorious. If Ginny was a man, she’d be our next prime minister. She told her father, in no uncertain terms, that you were to be released. Ginny claimed it was all a grand adventure and to seek punishment would only create unnecessary pain and damage to all involved.”

Marcus was sure he was hearing incorrectly. The isolation of this cell had clearly affected his mind. “My friend did not want to let you go, but when faced with all seven of his children united in their determination, it appears he is unable to say no.”

“Incredible,” Marcus murmured, stunned. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined the girl he’d kidnapped would come to his rescue.

She really was a ninny.

“I am truly free?”

Seaton nodded, tossing something in the air. Marcus caught it, the chill of metal in his hands. He opened his fist to see the iron key resting on his palm.

“Thank you,” he breathed, relief mixed with incredulity clogging his throat.

The man frowned. “I’m only the messenger.”

He made to leave, but paused, glancing back. “I don’t like you, not one bit, but for Danielle, I’m willing to give you a chance.”

With that the man exited the room, leaving Marcus clutching at the key to his chains, dumbstruck.