Married At Midnight (16 page)

he said, and grinned down at her.

She blinked up at him, bemused, those green eyes enchanting and her expression much too familial, and he felt suddenly

like that thirteen-year-old with sweaty palms.

"He's the pastor!" Victoria exclaimed suddenly, evidently in shock and wholly unaware of his thoughts, his deception, his identity.

No matter his motives, he was doing the right thing, Thorn reminded himself.

He nodded, leaning slightly closer to capture the elusive scent of her, a subtle mingling of jasmine and woman. The brisk air

had pinkened her cheeks and the tip of her nose. He wanted to kiss the bridge of it... work his way down to her lips. God,

but he craved that kiss with a desperation he could taste. "I believe I determined that already," he said, and resisted the urge

to cleave her to him suddenly, kiss her fiercely.

"Capital!" she exclaimed. "Whatever is this world coming to!" She narrowed her eyes at him. "You don't happen to share the pastor's inclination to imbibe, do you, Mr. Parker?"

He forced a light-hearted smile and winked down at her. "Will you toss me out of bed if I do?"

She averted her gaze at once. "You know very well we'll not be sharing a bed together, sirrah!"

Thom's brows collided. Had he known that? He was no longer quite certain he had. Perhaps his brain had, but his heart had believed elsewise, he realized suddenly. Perhaps not tonight, nor tomorrow . . . but someday . . .

"A simple kiss hardly a lover makes!" she declared.

Thom heartily begged to differ. . . perchance it was only the beginning, but it was a beginning, nonetheless. He'd never kissed

a woman he hadn't meant to bed. A slow smile turned his lips as he heard his father's voice speak to him:
A man must do

what he must, you realize?
Perhaps he'd not entered this bargain with the intent to win her heart, or perchance he had, but

he suddenly resolved to do just that.

So, she fully intended to kiss him, did she?

He couldn't have justified it had he tried, but he suddenly felt unreasonably giddy and more than a little bit reckless as he

smiled down at her. "True enough, Victoria," he ceded with a wink. "A kiss hardly a lover makes," he agreed. He swept his hand in a gesture urging her to enter. He arched a brow, when she still didn't stir.

"Unless you're afraid and have changed

your mind?"

"Afraid, bosh! Whatever would I have to fear?" she exclaimed, and brushed past him, marching after the pastor and his wife.

Thom smiled, and followed, heartily pleased she still reacted so defiantly to a challenge. It would make his seduction go all

the easier, for certain.

And God save his rotten soul, he fully intended to seduce his bride.

And more, he was going to relish every bloody last minute.

"Verra well, then,
Lady
Victoria Haversham." He stressed the title before her name as though it were a blasphemy. "Did

you come here of your own free will and accord?"

"I did, of course!" Victoria replied. Goodness only knew, she understood this was the right thing to do, that it was the only course of action that would ensure her future to any degree, but it certainly didn't alter the fact that within mere moments she would be entered into holy wedlock with the stranger towering at her side. She couldn't help but be terrified out of her wits, but she refused to show it.

"And you, Thom. . . I'm afraid I can't read your scribble," he complained.

"Parker," Victoria offered.

The pastor eyed her sternly. "Whatever! Did you come here of your own free will and accord?" he asked Thom.

"Well, of course he did!" Victoria exclaimed, anxious for the ceremony to be ended, and wholly terrified that Thom would change his mind at the very last instant. "Do you see shackles upon his wrists?" she asked. As though she could possibly

force the man standing at her side to do anything at all against his will!

Once more the pastor refused to acknowledge her, and Victoria chafed. "Really, sirrah! You don't believe I could drag him

all this way by brute force?"

"A woman's tongue makes a frightful lash," the pastor replied somberly. He turned to look at his wife, and muttered,

"They dinna need horsewhips."

Victoria peered up at her husband to be, trying to gauge his expression once more. There was nothing, not the tiniest

suggestion of his thoughts. She wondered if he were suffering regrets—wondered, too, if he thought her tongue wicked

as the pastor plainly did. More than anything, she found herself, much to her dismay, wondering in particular if he were

thinking about that kiss.

Her face heated at the possibility.

"Och, Duncan!" the wife chimed in. "Ye dinna see that the laddie is sae unhappy, noo d'ye? Gae on with the ceremony

sae we can all gae tae bed!"

Victoria stared at the whip in the woman's hand, wondering if she truly would use it upon her poor husband. No wonder

he was so discontented.

"I did come of my own accord," Thom answered, and Victoria breathed a sigh of relief. She rather thought he seemed to

be enjoying this repartee entirely too much, and felt like elbowing him in the ribs for playing along with the obnoxious man.

The pastor merely shook his head, as though to lament Thom's decision. "Verra weel, then, my son . .. de ye take this

woman tae be your lawful wedded wife, forsaking all others, keeping tae her as long as ye baith shall live?"

"I will," Thom replied, his voice firm, but wholly lacking in emotion. Victoria contemplated why that should disturb her so.

For goodness sake, it wasn't as though they were madly in love with one another ... it was a marriage of convenience, she reminded herself, no more.

"And Lady Victoria .. ."

"I will," Victoria replied quickly, and handed him the ring at once.

The pastor looked up from his volume and raised his brows. In disapproval, Victoria thought. Too bad.

She was in a hurry,

and this was entirely too disconcerting.

" 'Tis late," she reminded him, "and we really must make haste!"

The pastor shook his head, casting a dubious glance at Thom as though to be certain he should, in fact, continue. Victoria resisted the urge to stomp upon the pastor's blessed foot, knowing it would merely waste more precious time. Time they

didn't have to spare. He reached out, received the ring from Victoria's trembling fingers, and handed it to Thom. " 'Tis still

no' too late, son," he whispered ominously.

"It most certainly is!" Victoria screeched in response, sounding more like a fishwife than she might have cared to. She cast an uncertain glance at Thom, hoping his opinion hadn't somehow been swayed.

The pastor sighed once more, shaking his head. "Gae ahead and place it upon her finger son," he directed Thom.

"Please," Victoria urged him, thrusting out her hand impatiently. Before she could possibly change her mind—before the

pastor could manage to scare Thorn away. But she worried for naught, it seemed, for Thom peered down at her, his

demeanor wholly composed—easy enough for him, she thought, as it wasn't precisely his future at stake.

She frowned

at that. He winked at her as he slid the ring over her fourth finger. It slid the length so very slowly, sending quivers down Victoria's spine, and for an instant, she forgot where they stood. He nestled the ring around her finger, his touch lingering,

and then he withdrew his hand. Victoria swallowed convulsively at the caress. She shuddered with total awareness of the

man who stood at her side.

In mere moments he would be her husband ... and there
would
be a part of her life she would indeed share with him.

A sense of panic enveloped her. Lord, but she knew this man scarce at all!

And yet somehow . .. somehow .. . she felt an uncanny connection to him.

How much dare she give? How much would he take?

Her fingers trembled as he held them.

"Noo, Lady Victoria," the pastor was saying, "repeat these words after me .. . with this ring I thee wed, with my body

I thee worship, with all my worldly possessions I thee endow in the name of the Father, the Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen."

Victoria suddenly couldn't speak. Lord-a-mighty! She couldn't very well promise him her body! And yet the very thought suddenly filled her with warmth unlike anything she'd ever experienced. It sent her pulse skittering and set her heart to hammering. For that matter, neither could she promise him her money, as

she planned to keep it all for herself. Elsewise,

why, indeed, would she be wedding him at all?

She blinked up at him once and saw a stranger— a stranger she knew no better than she did this confounded scotch-drinking Scots preacher. She blinked once more and saw the warmth nestled in the oddly familiar depths of his gaze. Blinked yet a

third time, and his face blurred out of focus.

Good God, she couldn't do this!

But she must, she reminded herself. There were no choices to be made here! She was no child to go running in fright! She

had always taken the brass ring in hand, and tonight was no different. She had, in fact, contemplated this option thoroughly,

and it had been her most sensible choice.

So then ... what was she waiting for?

"I thought ye were in a hurry, Lady Victoria?" the pastor said, sounding quite inconvenienced now.

She was, of course. They were. She simply couldn't seem to get the words past her constricted throat.

She was vaguely

aware that Thorn had withdrawn a timepiece from his vest pocket. He flipped it open, glanced at it, and then closed it

quickly and replaced it. She didn't particularly relish the frown upon his face. It filled her with a sense of impending doom.

He gave her a nod, urging her to continue, and Victoria inhaled a breath, and blurted, "With this ring I thee wed! In the name

of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost! Amen!"

The pastor slapped his book angrily shut. "Ye canna change the words, Lady Victoria!"

"I mostly certainly can and have!" Victoria informed him at once, with greater conviction than she felt.

"Please, go on, sirrah!"

"Please do go on," Thom insisted quietly, coming to her defense.

Victoria smiled up at him a little tremulously, uncertain as to whether she should be grateful for his compliance, or panicked.

He was staring once again at her mouth, reminding her of their private agreement as surely as though he'd spoken it aloud.

She lapped at her lips gone dry, and averted her gaze.

The pastor glowered at Thorn as though he were a goose gone mad. "Are ye bluidy daff, mon?" he exclaimed. "What are

ye wantin' with a wife if ye canna have the best o' what comes wi' her, lad?"

"Oh, leave them be, Duncan!" the pastor's wife demanded.

"Och, never mind!" the pastor muttered crossly. He thrust his book into his wife's hands. "Forasmuch as this man and this woman have consented to be together by giving and receiving a ring, I therefore declare them to be man and wife before

God and these witnesses"—he waved a hand indicating his children—"in the name of the Father, Son,

and Holy Ghost!

Amen! Gae tae bed!" he commanded his wife and children quite irascibly. "And dinna bar the door, Constance!" he said

sternly to his wife, With no small measure of disgust, he added, "You may noo kiss the bride!"

Victoria blinked up at her husband, disconcerted by the knowledge that they were now wed ... she and this intimate stranger. There was something about him so very familiar, and yet he was truly no more than a stranger. He was staring down at her now, his expression as untelling as ever, but she distinctly sensed he might be waiting for his kiss.

Good Lord, she felt suddenly much too hot. Couldn't catch her breath.

A promise was a promise, she reminded herself. Certainly, she could do this. It was a simple enough thing, after all. Drawing

in a fortifying breath, she puckered her lips, and lifted her face, squeezed her eyes shut, and waited ...

anticipating the touch

of his lips.

"I believe I've changed my mind," her husband said.

Victoria's eyes flew open. Her brows collided. "Whatever do you mean you've changed your mind? You cannot change

your mind; it's much too late to change your mind!"

"You don't wish to marry her?" the pastor asked, sounding more than a little bemused, and perhaps a bit hopeful. Victoria

cast him a withering glance.

"I have married her," Thom replied evenly. "I just don't wish to kiss her, is all."

Victoria's face began to burn.

He didn't wish to kiss her, after all?

The pastor mumbled something quite uncharitable beneath his breath. "God's bloody teeth! That'll be half a guinea!" he demanded of Thom. "In all me bluidy days, I ha'e never seen the like! Guid luck son! Ye're gaein' tae need it!" he declared,

and with that Thom withdrew the appropriate payment, offered an extra coin for the pastor's troubles, thanked the man, gathered the necessary papers, looked them over, and then led Victoria out of the marrying house, leaving the pastor to complain bitterly, and his wife, having forgotten the whip for the time being, to soothe his temper.