If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages) (25 page)

A brisk wind blew against her face, the cold like tiny needles on her skin. Yet she turned her face more to the chilling gusts. She knew she needed to speak the hidden truths that would forever bar her from any relationship with the man beside her. Despite being insistent that no union between them could ever exist, she found herself hesitant, standing on the brink of the abyss of love lost.

“When I joined the Navy in disguise, I always had a fear that I would be discovered. I saw the way those men treated women. I feared if they found out, I could be hurt. I could be assaulted. I learned to be wary, to protect myself.” She cleared her throat. She had never confided this fear to anyone. “I fear I could not be a wife to you or to anyone because the thought of belonging to someone, of losing control over my own physical being… I cannot abide it.”

Thunder grumbled in the distance and rain began to fall lightly.

“You did not seem uncomfortable when we slept together at the inn.”

“I kept my knife under my pillow.”

Wynbrook paled. “I see. Rather glad I did not know it. I do recall waking up to your being rather friendly.”

Despite the cold wind and rain chilling her face, heat rose to her cheeks. She had hoped he would forget the incident. “It is different if I am the one to initiate.”

“Well then, it’s simple. You may initiate.” He gave her a cheeky grin, though there was concern in his eyes.

“And what if you had to wait?”

“I would wait.”

“What if I could never tolerate it?” She turned and looked at him squarely. “Marriage is like slavery for women. All my money, all my possessions, my very body would belong to my husband. I have defended myself for so long and enjoyed complete freedom, I do not know if I could ever abide it.”

“I would never force you to my bed. Not ever.” Wynbrook was firm and she believed him.

“Are you prepared to live in chastity for the rest of your life?”

Wynbrook frowned but said nothing.

“Or would you take up a mistress?”

He shook his head.

“But you would. And I would be miserable. And you would be miserable. Do you not see why we should not wed? Why I should never wed anyone?”

“What I see is a beautiful lady who deserves more than to be alone for the rest of her life.” Wynbrook held out his hand to her. He did not demand. He simply asked. Tentatively, she took it. His gloved fingers closed around hers, warm and protective. “I know what I feel when I kiss you. When we kiss each other. I have never felt anything like it. A connection like that does not happen every day. I will trust in us.”

Kate had to blink back tears. No one had ever said anything so kind, so compassionate to her. “You still wish to marry me?”

Wynbrook slowly dropped to one knee before her on the cold, wet ground. “Lady Kate. I am honored you have chosen to reveal yourself to me. The more I learn of you, the more my admiration for you grows. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Something within her cracked open, like something that had long been frozen beginning to thaw. She had been utterly convinced if Wynbrook knew the truth, he would run away. She had misjudged him.

“Kate.” Wynbrook spoke her name reverently. “Will you marry me?”

There was nothing else she could say.

“Yes.”

Eight bring wishing

The heavens opened up and it began to pour down rain. Wynbrook stood up and their lips met, hot and passionate, the cold rain running in rivulets down their faces, blending together as they pressed together, unable to get close enough. A sudden flash blinded her for a moment, and Wynbrook held her tight as thunder cracked above them.

“Come, let us run for the house before we are struck down,” yelled Wynbrook over the increasing roar of the wind and waves.

Fortunately, the tall outline of Greystone Hall was in sight and they ran for it, hand in hand. The rain and wind whipped about them, stirring up the mud at their feet. Kate was certain they would look a splattered mess when they finally arrived, but she cared not. She grinned into the storm, the kind words of John, her future husband, ringing in her ears. As they reached the edge of Greystone and made their way around the corner of the building to the front door, she thought she saw a shadowy figure standing by some low brush by the side of the house.

She stopped and turned back, but the figure was gone.

“What is it?” asked John.

“Thought I saw someone.”

“Come on. Let us go inside or we’ll both catch our deaths.” He pulled her along to the door.

Outside the door was a large, muddy puddle. She paused, not wanting to wade through and completely ruin her boots. To her surprise, John lifted her up into his arms and carried her across the mud to the house.

Mrs. Brooke rushed up, her face a picture of concern as they entered the house. “What is this, now? Has milady hurt herself?”

“No, no, I am fine,” reassured Kate. “Only wet is all and avoiding the mud, thanks to Lord Wynbrook. Thank you. I am sure I can manage from here.” Despite the chill of her soaking wet clothes, her face burned. Instead of setting her down, John proceeded to carry her up the stairs as if she weighed nothing at all. “Put me down. You’re making a scene,” she hissed at him.

John appeared not to hear her, or at least he did not listen to her, for he continued to carry her up to her bedroom. Finally, he set her down on a chair. Mrs. Brooke bustled in after him.

“Quick, Mrs. Brooke, get hot water and send for her maid. Lady Kate will be needing a hot bath immediately,” said Wynbrook, taking command.

“Yes, my lord.” Mrs. Brooke bobbed a curtsy and left the room.

Kate wished to argue with him, but a hot bath did sound rather good.

“We need to get you out of these wet things.” John began fumbling with the buttons of her coat, but she swatted his hands away.

“The maid will tend me. You need to care for yourself, for you are just as wet and twice as muddy.”

John looked down at his own coat, recognizing for the first time that he was sopping wet.

“You’re puddling,” Kate accused, for he was creating a muddy mess from water dripping off his coat and boots.

“Good thing I left my valet behind. He would suffer apoplexy to see me now.” He grinned at her. She grinned at him. Suddenly, they were kissing again.

“Ahem,” said Mrs. Brooke sternly, standing in the open doorway.

“Ah, Mrs. Brooke. Please also send up a hot bath for Lord Wynbrook, for he will be needing one as well,” said Kate.

“Very good,” Mrs. Brooke said in a voice laced with disapproval.

“Please do take care of Lady Kate,” said John. “We can’t have the future Lady Wynbrook catching cold.”

“Oh! Oh, indeed not. Now I understand.” Mrs. Brooke was all smiles.

* * *

The next day, Kate awoke with a strange sense of calm. She had lived with the uncertainty of their enemy for most of her life. Now that she finally knew, it was like being able to breathe fully after living with a weight pressed down on her chest. Not that the truth was easy to hear, but at least she knew who her enemy was.

And who her friends were.

Some thoughts of Wynbrook made her smile and others made her blush. She expected to feel panicked at the thought of giving away her freedoms to another human being, but instead, she felt a giddy excitement at becoming his wife. Very strange.

A soft rap at the door brought her brother, already fully and somberly dressed.

“Hello, Robert,” she said and sat in the window seat, inviting him to sit beside her. “Well, now we know.”

“Now we know,” he agreed.

“Do you think the robbers and the kidnappers are in league with Captain Harcourt?”

“Don’t know, but I can think of none other who would wish us more harm. We’ll know no peace until he is brought to justice or dead.”

Kate looked out the frosted window at the white-capped breakers of the ocean. “You are going after him.”

“Yes.”

“But your injury. Are you well?”

Robert shrugged in a noncommittal manner. “Well enough. I must go.”

“I know you must. Please do be careful.”

“Always. I wish I could be here to see you wed. I’m glad you decided on Wynbrook. He’s a good man.”

She gave her brother a small smile. “What of Emma?”

Emotion flickered across his face. “She is an extraordinary girl.”

“And adorable.”

The faintest of smiles hovered about his lips. “And adorable. But engaged to another.”

“But—”

“And it would not be safe to involve her with me until Captain Harcourt and his men are found.”

She knew it was true. If they would not stop at abducting her to get to her brother, they would certainly not stop at attacking Emma as well. “When will you leave?”

“This morning. I will drive Emma and her maid down with me. Her ship leaves soon.”

“Be safe and return to me.” It was what she always said when he sailed off to sea.

“Stay well and remember me.”

* * *

“As your solicitor, I do not recommend you sign it.” Kate handed Wynbrook the marriage contract she had prepared. She asked if he would meet her before breakfast in the study to review the document she had prepared.

“Why not?” he asked, quill in hand.

“It is a rather bad deal for you. It allows you no access to my dowry, which will be available for me to spend as I see fit during my lifetime and then put in trust to be given in equal portions to any of the children our union should create.”

“I have no problem with it,” said John and began to sign the paper.

“But wait!” cried Kate, putting a hand on his sleeve to stay his hand. “You will get nothing from the union. None of the dowry, which by law should be yours. This is a bad deal. As your solicitor, I strongly urge you not to sign it.”

John smiled at her and signed the paper. “I am not marrying you for your money, nor am I concerned that you will spend a ha’penny in a frivolous manner. I am marrying you for you. Nothing more is needed.”

Kate was filled with a warm glow and floated to the breakfast room with the others. After breakfast, she and Wynbrook saw Robert and Emma off on their journey. Robert made a somber figure in his dark blue wool naval coat, while Emma was a bright flower in a cape of scarlet.

“Thank you so much for your hospitality. I have had a marvelous time,” gushed Emma.

“It is we who need to thank you, for you saved the life of my brother,” said Kate.

“And he saved me from robbers, so you see, we all have been of service to each other. I wish you and Lord Wynbrook every happiness in the world.”

“And I wish the same for you,” returned Kate. “Please do write and let me know how you like America. If you need anything at all, including passage back to England, please do not hesitate to apply to us for help.”

“I will do that. You are the very best of people, Lady Kate. I am so glad to have met you. This is a verse for your wedding.” Emma pressed a piece of paper in her hand.

With a flurry of excitement, smiles, and waves, Emma left the house, followed by the more somber Darington.

“What is the verse?” asked John when they had left.

“It is Second Corinthians 5:17—
Therefore if anyone be in Christ, she is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.”

John tilted his head to one side. “She?”

“I think Emma took some liberties with the verse.”

John shrugged. “All things become new. I like it.”

“Yes. I like it too,” said Kate, feeling the verse had aptly captured her feelings of the moment. Everything seemed fresh and new.

John held out his arm with a smile. “Shall we go talk with the rector?”

Nine bring kissing

He kissed her before they left on their errand. He kissed her once they arrived at the local parish church. He kissed her after they had found the elderly rector who agreed to marry them on the next day, providing a special license could be procured. He stopped the carriage once, maybe twice on the way back to Greystone to kiss her some more.

And the worst thing was, she enjoyed it. She was a willing partner in all these small crimes of passion. Or maybe, since they were engaged, they were not considered crimes at all.

In the few moments when she was not kissing Wynbrook or thinking about kissing Wynbrook, Kate wondered how he was going to get a special license by the next morning. He did not seem concerned, so she left it to him to figure out.

When they arrived back at Greystone Hall, they found Tristan, Anne, and Ellen waiting for them.

“Hallo, Brother! Well, you have had an adventure! Where is my portmanteau? I am quite cross at you for riding off with it!” Tristan greeted him with a warm embrace and a slug on the arm.

“I knew it would bring you ’round on the double.” John laughed.

Kate stood a bit apart, not sure what her reception would be from his family. Did they fault her for the salacious gossip in the
Times
? She would not blame them if they did.

“Ah, the blushing bride!” Tristan came up to her and gave her a big hug, then realized what he was doing and adjusted his cravat. “So pleased you’ll be one of the family. Now that you are to be my sister, my world is complete. When is the wedding? Tomorrow! Well then, you’ll be needing this.” He handed John the special license.

“You must have had confidence to request the license even before I agreed to marry you,” exclaimed Kate.

“Oh, he asked for it ages ago. First day you left,” declared Tristan.

“Did you?” Kate raised an eyebrow at her husband-to-be.

“It occurred to me when we were at the inn that a proposal from me would be forthcoming,” said John with a smile.

Kate smiled back. He
had
decided to propose before he read the gossip column in the newspaper. Her grin widened.

“Come through to the drawing room, where Anne and Ellen have taken up residence in your absence. Anne has called for tea and will be running your household by sunset if you are not careful,” warned Tristan.

Kate was most concerned about meeting Anne, but her reception was warm.

“Well, there you are! I am so glad to hear Lord Darington is alive. Welcome to the family, Kate. I had an inkling you were made for John. He needs a strong hand to keep him in line and I think you shall do nicely!”

“Anne!” chastised John.

They all sat down to tea and told the various sides of the story. Wynbrook, with permission from Kate, told them the story of her father’s death and Captain Harcourt, which made Anne pat her hand in a motherly fashion and Ellen cry. Kate’s history with the Royal Navy was not made public.

Anne was most concerned about restoring their reputations and with the details of the wedding and the wedding breakfast. When she heard Kate had not thought about the menu, she immediately had a discussion with Mrs. Brooke.

Ellen called her over and Kate sat beside her. “I cannot believe you and Dare were abducted! Have you no idea who these men were?” asked Ellen, clearly riveted by the tale.

“We guess they may have something to do with Captain Harcourt, but as to their individual identities, I do not know. They kept their faces covered, so all I know is that one man has a poor cobbler who put a brass hobnail through the top leather of his boots.”

“I do like a good adventure, but this is too much!” exclaimed Ellen. “Though if this gave you a little push in John’s direction, I am glad for it for I am so glad you will be marrying John. I hope you will not mind if I live with you from time to time. I can also stay with my sisters.”

“Certainly not!” cried Kate. “You are mine to keep. I will not hear of you leaving your home. Unless you wish to go visiting for a while,” she amended, trying to be welcoming to Ellen, not her jailer.

Ellen grasped both her hands in hers. “Thank you. I shall love having you for my sister!”

Eventually, everyone had dinner and went off to bed, as the prospect of an early wedding was promised. Despite all the joyful chatter and well wishes, Kate lay awake in bed, her mind too full to sleep.

Gone was the ease she had experienced earlier in the day. Old fears returned in the night, and instead of feeling like a new creation, she fell prey to old worries and concerns. Kate read over the contract again. This was what it came down to. She was legally giving herself to another person, to John Arlington, Earl of Wynbrook.

Though her feelings toward him were decidedly positive, her feelings toward becoming someone’s property were equally negative. He could choose where and when she went. He could demand admittance to her bedchamber, deny access to any children they might have, or beat her senseless, and the law would still be on his side.

She did not think he would act in such a manner, but he could, and the thought sickened her. Could she really give this kind of power to any one man? She had tried to give herself as much freedom in the marriage contract as possible, but the truth was, once they were married, Wynbrook had rights to her body. In fact, the law required that she surrender her body to him once they were wed, and she had no recourse to deny him her own physical being.

Kate crawled out of the comfortable bed, wrapped herself in a dressing gown, and began to pace, her feet cold on the wooden floorboards. How could she do this? How could she enter into a relationship that demanded of her the most intimate aspects of her being? She flopped down on the window seat and pressed her forehead against the cold, wet pane of glass. It was a relief to her heated brow.

She had spent so many years protecting her physical being, ensuring no one could touch her. Now with the stroke of a pen and a few vows, she was supposed to be on her back without further complaint. No, it could not be. She could not so suddenly give up the one thing she’d been protecting all these years.

And yet…the prospect of Wynbrook kissing her, caressing her, left her more breathless in anticipation than filled with dread. She did not wish to enflame his pride further by admitting it, but she desired him desperately. It was no use to try to deny it to herself when every fiber of her being yearned to be held in his arms. She was not sure what to name this sickness, this insipid weakness, but she knew her body would make no complaints to sharing his bed.

Kate remembered the strange sensations that arose within her every time they kissed. If she was honest, every kiss awakened in her a new desire, a desire for something more…much more. She had told Wynbrook she was not ready for the kind of physical intimacy shared by man and wife, but that was not true. Her body was on fire for it.

If only she could be with John on her terms, without the impending sense of doom that marital obligation stirred within her. She recalled the comfort she had found in his arms the night at the inn and the way her body had responded to his, the spark of passion he had lit within her. Even in the cold of the room, her cheeks flushed hot with thoughts of all she had long tried to deny.

Tomorrow night, she would be John’s bride. Would they share a bed their first night? It was no doubt customary to do so. The marriage was not considered valid until consummated, but then everything they shared would be obligatory. They would be together because they had to, they were required to, not because they wanted to. If she waited until after the wedding, it would be too late.

This was her last night. Her last night to make choices for her own body, choices that were hers and hers alone. This was her last night of freedom.

What would she do with it?