My Favorite Major (Heroes Returned Book 1) (16 page)

The duke’s smirk widened to a full-fledged smile as he rose from his seat. “By special license, yes, I know.” He reached into his jacket and retrieved a letter that he held out to Philip. “Hope you don’t mind that I acquired it for you. I thought it was the least I could do under the circumstances.”

“
You?” Philip gaped at the license he now held in his hand.

“
Cordie asked me to do you this favor. She thought it might…” he paused as though searching for the right word, “bridge the distance between our two houses, for lack of a better term.”

That was Cordie, always plotting, always wanting to smooth over any rifts, no matter how egregious… As though any kindness Kelfield did Philip could erase the wrong he’d done him. Amelia snuggled closer to him, and Philip looked down at his bride-to-be. She was such a dear girl, and he
was
quite fortunate to have her. Perhaps it was time to let go of a bit of his hatred for the duke, no matter how well-deserved or well-honed.

One of the duke’s eyebrows rose in amusement. “I told our estimable Lady Clayworth that her plan was in vain, but she does keep her own counsel.”

So Kelfield wasn’t anxious to befriend Philip either, huh? That was probably for the best. They didn’t have to wish each other to the devil, but neither did they have to become devoted friends.

“
In any event, I do hope you’ll accept my offering.” The duke nodded towards the license. “And I
do
hope you will live a long and happy life alongside your bride.”

Truly this was one of the most surreal moments in Philip’s life. Lying in bed with a girl who wasn’t yet his wife, a bullet hole in his back, with Kelfield – of all people – coming to his
rescue
. “Thank you.” Philip tipped his head towards the duke. After all, what else could he say?

“
You’re welcome. Though I can’t take credit for the clergyman in Clayworth’s drawing room. That was all Cordie’s doing.”

Of course it was. Philip couldn’t help but chuckle. Cordie would see him taken care of as though she was a mother duckling.

“
I’ll let her know you’re awake.” The duke started for the door, but then stopped and glanced back at Philip over his shoulder. “Olivia and I are returning to Hampshire on the morrow. So if you’d like to say your farewell...”

But there was nothing left to say to Olivia, not anymore. And for the first time since Philip had lost his childhood love to the scandalous duke, he was happy for her. Kelfield did seem enamored with his wife. “Safe travels, Your Grace. Take care of her, will you?”

“’
Til my dying breath.” And then the duke vanished into the corridor.

Philip nudged Amelia to gently wake her. Heaven forbid a man of the cloth find her in his bed before they were properly married. “Amelia,” he crooned. “Wake up, love.”

She lifted her flaxen head and blinked her blue eyes open. A smile lit her face when she looked at him. “You were telling me about Leverton Park?”

“
Hours ago, if the sun is to be believed.”

A blush stained her cheeks. “Did I fall asleep?”

“
We both did. Lucky for us—” Philip smiled as he lifted the special license in his hand “—Lady Clayworth has been quite busy in the meantime.”

“
Has she?”

“
Hmm. Tell me you’re ready to marry me.”

“
Now?” She giggled in surprise.

Philip nodded. “I believe a clergyman is on his way up the steps this very moment.” At least, if Kelfield was to be believed.

“
A clergyman?” Amelia’s blue eyes widened and she scrambled off the bed, straightening her skirts just as someone cleared histhroat in the corridor. “Heavens, Philip!” she whispered. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“
I hardly had any warning myself.” Then he glanced towards the doorway to find Cordie, Clayworth, and a fellow Philip didn’t recognize standing just outside his chambers. “Lady Clayworth,” he called. “To what do we owe this honor?”

Cordie rolled her eyes. “Kelfield told me you were expecting us, my dear Major.” Then she stepped over the threshold with her husband and the other fellow following in her wake. “Major Philip Moore, Amelia Pritchard, this is our vicar, Mr. Bailey.”

“
Thank you for coming, Mr. Bailey,” Philip said.

The vicar, a cheerful looking young man now that Philip got a better look at him, smiled in response. “Happy to be of service, Major.”

“
Amelia,” Cordie began, “why don’t you take a spot in the chair beside the bed?”

Amelia glanced at Philip, and he noted an expression of trepidation flash in her eyes. Was this moving too quickly for her? He didn’t want to force her into something she wasn’t quite ready for, but they had run out of time, and she did need the protection of his name. He reached out a hand to his fiancée, hoping to reassure her. “Are you ready, Amelia?”

A nervous smile tugged at her lips, but she took his outstretched hand and sat in the seat beside his bed.

“
Well then,” Mr. Bailey said, “I suppose we should begin.”

Amelia was fairly certain she only made it through her marriage ceremony because of the sincerity she saw reflected in Philip’s eyes. She’d maintained her major’s gaze the entire time Mr. Bailey spoke and then softly declared them man and wife. Then, when Amelia took her first breath as a married lady, everything hit her. No longer Amelia Pritchard, she would for the rest of her life be Amelia Moore.

Philip squeezed her fingers, and her heart lightened a bit. He thanked the vicar for attending them in his sick room, and then he very graciously invited Cordie and Clayworth to leave his chambers.

And then Amelia was all alone, except for her husband.

“
You look terrified, love,” he said, tugging her hand, urging her to join him on the bed, once again.

“
Terrified?” A nervous laugh escaped Amelia as she moved to his side. “I’m not terrified,” she said once she’d settled against him. And she wasn’t frightened of Philip; she was simply amazed to discover she had somehow become his wife.

“
Good. There’s no reason to be. Even if I was in any condition to enjoy our wedding night, I would take care with you.”

Good heavens! The marriage bed was the last thing on Amelia’s mind! She pulled back to meet his eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

A smile that had seemed so foreign on his face when she’d first met him graced his lips, and then he chuckled. “You
are
frightened.”

Amelia shook her head, even though she hadn’t given marital relations much of a thought until now. “I’ve simply been concerned about your health, Philip Moore, and worried about what Mr. Mason might do next.” But now that he mentioned it, the marriage bed was a little frightening.

“
Mason is the last person I want to think about on our wedding day, Amelia.”

“
Hardly an orthodox wedding day. You’re recovering from a bullet wound, and—”

“
Indeed, but I’m hardly dead, love. And you have taken such wonderful care of me. Certain thoughts have been lingering about my mind.”

“
Thoughts?” she whispered.

“
Mmm. My mind keeps replaying the afternoon in Cordie’s parlor…” He let his voice trail off as a rakish twinkle glinted in his eyes.

Amelia’s face burned at that memory. The liberties she’d allowed him that day. “Heavens.”

“
Certainly was heaven for me.” He tugged her back against him and his hand gently caressed her side, making tingles race across her skin. “I vow, Amelia Moore, that the moment I am up to it, I will make you mine in every way, and I will see to your happiness on every level.”

She gulped, not knowing what to say. The memory of what he’d already made her feel at his hands and lips was more than she had ever experienced with Geoffrey Mason, even when she thought herself in love with the scurrilous blackguard.

Philip kissed the top of her head, and Amelia couldn’t help but smile at his gentleness. He might not be the husband she’d ever thought to have, but she couldn’t be more fortunate.

“
Stay with me tonight?” he asked.

She had stayed with him every night for nearly a fortnight. “I am your wife now.”

His hand stroked her back. “And what a lucky man I am.”

Lieutenant Tristan Avery had spent more than a little time in questionable taverns over the years, usually at his brother Russell’s behest. Together the brothers Avery had drunk and whored their way across the continent during their regimental years. They’d enjoyed one spectacular adventure after another. But he’d never stepped foot inside such an establishment alone before. He’d always had either Russell or Philip by his side when he’d done so. But not tonight, and not now. London was too large for him and Russell to scour it together. No, dividing and conquering the city in search of Philip’s would-be murderer made the most sense. And find the bastard they would, if it killed them both.

He winced at the dank dockside tavern before him. The place reeked of raw fish, fresh-from-the-docks sailors, and unwashed whores. Certainly this Mason fellow wouldn’t hole himself up in a place like this. But, even more certainly, the Welsh bastard wasn’t spending his time in reputable establishments. At least that was the assumption he and Russell were working on. No one had spotted him some place reputable, in any event.

Tristan inhaled a breath of putrid air and cringed as it entered his lungs. Boisterous laughter and cursing drifted outside the River’s End when he opened the door and stepped inside the dimly lit tavern. Damn it all to hell, he’d never see anything in this place, which any other night might be a blessing. But, for Philip’s sake, he’d have to try.

He squared his shoulders and walked in the direction of the bar at the far end of the taproom. He placed two coins on the counter and ordered an ale, though he had no intention of drinking anything the barkeep placed before him. The tavern looked as though it might have last been cleaned during the War of the Roses, after all. And the tankard that appeared in front of Tristan might have been washed sometime during the Reformation. A chill ran up his spine. Who the devil would choose to spend their time in the River’s End?

“
Lieutenant Avery?” came an Irish lilt not too far away.

Tristan turned his head, blinking into the darkness, and was quite surprised to find a young soldier slumped against the bar. “Sergeant O’Leary?” He abandoned his ale and made his way to the Irishman’s side. “What the devil are you doing in here?”