His Remarkable Bride (15 page)

“Honoria, get back here,” Vivian snapped.

Honoria ignored them. As she reached the wagon, she clutched her chest and panted.

“Are you all right?” Athos reached for her to hold her up if she needed it.

Honoria shook her head, waving his hand away. “I’m not used to running, and this corset is too tight.”

Athos’s brow shot to his hairline.

“I just wanted to give you this.” She reached into a pocket in her skirt and drew out a messily folded scrap of paper.

Athos took it and opened it. The paper was a hastily-scribbled note in Heather’s handwriting. She must have written it very fast. Heather prided herself on her penmanship, and this letter was hardly better than chicken scratch. It simply read, “We love you Papa, and we are trying to be good. We want to come home. We know you will talk to the judge and tell him that you’re the best papa in the entire world, and we know he will let us all come home to you. Let Elspeth know that we love her too.”

A hard lump formed in Athos’s throat, and his eyes stung. “Thank you,” he croaked, smiling for Honoria.

Honoria blinked rapidly, as if she too struggled with tears. She glanced up to Elspeth, then at Athos. “I’ll do whatever I can to make sure they’re safe.”

“Thank you,” Elspeth said when words refused to come to Athos’s lips.

Honoria pivoted to return to the house, but paused. “Do you want me to encourage them to…to give my sisters a hard time?”

There was enough of a spark of mischief in Honoria’s eyes that Athos chuckled. “Only if it doesn’t label them as hellions so that the judge sides with Mrs. Lyon.”

“Right.” Honoria nodded. “I know just the thing. And I’ll bring you more notes when they write them.”

“Thanks.”

Honoria smiled, then picked up her skirts and ran back to the porch. As Athos walked around the wagon and climbed up, he heard Vivian and Melinda scolding Honoria to high heaven. He shook his head. “Someone needs to swoop in and rescue that poor woman from her family.”

Elspeth hummed in agreement. “Maybe we could help. But let’s rescue the children first.”

Elspeth didn’t know what to make of the scene at the Bonneville ranch. It was like something out of a farcical novel. It had been years since she had given any consideration to her lineage, so to have the Bonneville sisters fawning all over her as if she was a member of the royal family was as baffling as it was uncomfortable. She should have set the sisters straight about who she was now and what she expected from her life. But the moment it had become apparent to her that she could milk the sisters’ fascination with her family’s title for all it was worth on Athos’s behalf, she played along.

She would have done anything for Athos. That much came clear the moment he jumped down from the wagon and ran for the porch and his children, regardless of the dozen or so rough-looking ranch hands who had set their sights—and a few guns—on him. She wasn’t sure if he’d noticed how much danger he’d been in. No, she was certain he hadn’t had a clue. But she had seen the violent set of those men’s shoulders and the complete disregard they had for anything but the orders they were given. It was a blessing that Mrs. Lyon had held them off when Athos punched one of Bonneville’s men in retaliation for laying hands on Hubert.

She fully intended to tell Athos just how much danger he had been in, but as he pulled the wagon into the drive beside the house, there was already a small gathering of friends and neighbors there to visit.

The remainder of the day was taken up in being introduced to half of the rest of the town of Haskell. Elspeth was grateful to have so many people eager to greet her and wish her and Athos well, but if she was being honest with herself, she would have preferred to have Athos all to herself. She didn’t even get that opportunity on Monday, as a whopping three trains were scheduled to pass through town at various points, starting early in the morning. Elspeth spent the day scrubbing the first floor of the house to a shine while Athos toiled away at the station from dawn
’
til dusk.

“Are you certain you don’t want me to stay home and help you get a start on the children’s rooms today?” Elspeth asked midway through Tuesday morning, the day of her tea with the Bonneville sisters. She was already dressed in her Sunday clothes and had styled her hair fashionably to play into the image she needed to live up to.

“There’s not much point,” Athos laughed as he passed through each bedroom, filling his arms with books that belonged on the shelves downstairs. “There’s a train coming in at noon. That’ll have me busy for the rest of the afternoon.”

“I suppose.”

Elspeth leaned against the doorframe of Ivy and Heather’s room, watching her husband for a moment. He already had ten books cradled in his left arm and was walking around the room—the least cluttered and chaotic of the four bedrooms—picking up more books and reading the spines. Here she was, about to head out into the enemy’s lair in an effort to woo the Bonneville sisters into supporting Athos’s cause—knowingly or unknowingly—and yet Athos himself didn’t have the least bit of guile in him. His sandy-blond hair was in need of a trim and a brush. He’d finally found time to shave the day before, but a shadow of stubble covered his strong jaw now. He wore his usual uniform, one corner of his shirt untucked in the back. She didn’t suppose he was the sort of man women looked twice at, but to her he was a treasure.

“What?” He blinked uncertainly when he caught her watching him. “Do I still have jam from my breakfast toast on my cheek? I swear, I don’t know how it got all the way over there.”

“No,” Elspeth laughed, standing straighter. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have been matched with you.”

He almost dropped his armful of books. “Me?” He chuckled. “I’m the one who got lucky.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” A zip of mischief fluttered around her gut, sinking lower. She swayed slowly closer to him, glancing up through her lashes at him, the way coquettes used to flirt with titled gentleman at balls. “Musketeers always end up with ladies, don’t they?”

“I’m not a—”

She silenced his self-effacing protest with a gentle kiss on his lips. It was quick and with closed-lips, but when she pulled away, Athos’s whole face had gone red and his eyes were wide with wonder.

“I’ll tell you the full story of the Great Bonneville Tea once I return home,” she vowed.

She turned and skipped out of the room, her heart light. The silence she left in her wake told her that Athos was frozen with surprise. That thought made her giggle all the way out to the stable.

Athos had offered to hitch the family horse, Wilber, to the wagon so that she could drive out to the Bonneville ranch, but Elspeth insisted on riding. Josephine Evans let her borrow a sidesaddle, and Freddy Chance from the livery came over to help secure it on Wilber’s back. She hoped she cut the sort of figure that the Bonneville sisters would be impressed by as she mounted and started her journey through town, out along the ranch road, and on to the Bonneville ranch.

Whatever Elspeth expected after the scene at the ranch on Sunday, it was not the illustrious welcome she got. Just as on Sunday, guards had been placed around the drive and perimeter of the ranch. As she was wondering whether they were there because of the children or if Rex Bonneville routinely kept hordes of armed men at the edges of his property, two of them fired rifles in the air.

“Easy, boy.” Elspeth leaned forward to soothe Wilber, who probably remembered the events of Sunday too well.

The gunshots alerted the family, and before Elspeth could reach the house, all four Bonneville sisters, Mrs. Lyon, and the man Elspeth had seen on the porch at the end of the mess on Sunday came flooding out of the house, across the porch, and, in the case of the sisters, onto the lawn.

“Lady Elspeth, you do us such an honor with your presence.” Vivian rushed to the front to greet her as she tugged Wilber to a stop in the drive.

“Miss Bonneville.” Elspeth nodded, going full-out and calling Vivian by the title that would have been used for the eldest sister if they were in London society. She should have returned the greeting with something equally polite, but frankly, she didn’t feel like it.

“You’re here, you’re here!” Bebe clapped and bounced at the edge of the lawn, the flounces on her dress fluttering.

“It’s such a pleasure to see you, my lady,” Melinda said in her sweetest voice, then turned to one of the ranch hands and belted out, “Frisk! Get over here and take Lady Elspeth’s horse,” like a fishwife.

It was all Elspeth could do to keep a straight face. When the man Frisk reached her and offered a hand to help her dismount, she said, “That won’t be necessary.” Keeping her chin pointed up as much as she could, she unhooked her feet and slipped easily to the ground.

Vivian, Melinda, and Bebe cooed and smiled.

“So you’re an accomplished horsewoman too?” Vivian asked. “You must come riding with me sometime.”

Elspeth sent a sideways look to Honoria, who hung back from her sisters. Honoria pressed a hand to her smile, then hid it with a cough. That made it all the harder for Elspeth to keep a straight face. At least she had an ally in this farce.

Correction, she thought as she started toward the house with the sisters, several allies. One glance at the house, and she saw several small faces peeking mischievously out through upstairs windows.

“You’ll have to excuse our feeble setting,” Melinda said, walking with a strange, halting gait—as if she’d twisted her ankle recently—as they headed for the house. “We originally prepared for tea in the…in the drawing room,” she emphasized the genteel term, “But it was filled with the strangest scent this morning.”

“It smelled awful,” Bebe clarified with a snort. “Like cow pies and dead fish at the same time.”

Honoria coughed, covering half her face with both of her hands.

Elspeth swallowed the giggle that tried to push its way out of her lungs.

“It was the oddest thing,” Vivian went on, jaw tight. “Especially coming hard on the heels of Melinda tripping over that marble on the stairs. Of course, I would have suspected those vagrant Strong devils—”

“But they’ve been locked in their room all day,” Bebe rushed to finish. “And they don’t have marbles.”

Elspeth’s smile dropped and her rage rose. “You’ve kept the children locked in a room?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Honoria shake her head just as Melinda said, “Well what were we supposed to do? Mrs. Lyon says we’re not allowed to let them get away.” She didn’t sound happy about the arrangement.

Elspeth snuck another glance at Honoria. Honoria pursed her lips, half rolling her eyes. She didn’t seem to know how to communicate the full story of what Melinda’s comment meant, though. At least not before they reached the porch.

“I just want you to know that I’m against this in every way.” Mrs. Lyon bit out her words, crossing her arms. “Just because she’s a lady of some sort doesn’t make her any less a culpable party in this case.”

A twist of worry filled Elspeth’s chest. It was quickly banished as Vivian brushed the woman’s comment aside with, “The Bonneville family will always have a place at their house for anyone as
genteel
as Lady Elspeth.”

“I don’t see that she’s—”

“Lady Elspeth,” Vivian cut Mrs. Lyon off, a hard edge to her voice. She sent the woman a look as sharp as a dagger, then put on a cloying smile. “I’d like you to meet someone very special to me.”

Vivian glided further along the porch to the side of the man who Elspeth didn’t know. Melinda and Bebe grinned and snickered, taking up places where they could watch both Vivian’s and Elspeth’s reactions. Honoria stayed closer to Elspeth, her expression schooled to careful neutrality.

“So this is the fancy, titled noble you were telling me about, Viv?” The man elbowed Vivian, leering in Elspeth’s direction. He had a similar, blond coloring to the Bonneville sisters and the same wolfish look in his eyes.

Vivian’s smile faltered, but she forced it back again and took the man’s arm. “Lady Elspeth, I’d like you to meet our cousin, Rance Bonneville.” With a simpering sigh, she added, “My fiancé.”

Elspeth swallowed her initial impulse to laugh out loud. She extended a hand to the man. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bonneville.”

“We’re third cousins, in case you were wondering.” Rance took a big step forward, wrenching out of Vivian’s grasp. He took Elspeth’s hand and kissed her knuckles with fat, wet lips. A chill passed down Elspeth’s spine. It only got worse when Rance looked up and winked. “Cousin Rex needed a foreman for his ranch here. He couldn’t trust none of these knuckleheads to do the job—” He darted a look to a few of the ranch hands who had wandered close to see what was going on. “—so he sent back to Kentucky for me.”

“Now, now, Rance.” Vivian’s laugh was brittle enough to shatter. “Remember, we’ve been working on your grammar. Papa couldn’t trust
any
of these ranch hands, not
none
.”

“Yeah, whatever, Viv.” Rance straightened and tugged at the bottom of his jacket. “She’s right. I gotta learn how to speak more like a ranch owner, since I’ll be inheriting Cousin Rex’s land one day.”

“
I’ll
be inheriting the ranch,” Vivian clarified, her smile fading.

“Yeah, and I’m marrying you.” Rance shrugged.

Bebe snorted. Mrs. Lyon rolled her eyes as if she had reached the end of her meager supply of patience.

“Why don’t we adjourn to the back porch where tea is set up?” Melinda suggested, leading the way.

“Actually—” Elspeth stopped them all before they could take two steps. “—I was hoping to see the children.”

“We’re right here,” a muffled call came from the other side of a window not three feet from where Elspeth stood. Tapping followed, and Elspeth pivoted to find Thomas, Geneva, and Lael peeking out through the curtains.

A moment later, they pulled back—whether by force or of their own volition, Elspeth couldn’t tell.

“Those children are supposed to be upstairs,” Mrs. Lyon barked. She shook her head and marched around the corner of the house.