The Bride of Devil's Acre (9 page)

Jacqueline stiffened, and Henry's words rang in her ears. No, there had been no other offers, nor would there be.
 

“I cannot give you everything you have lost, but I can offer you some semblance of a life.” Devil spoke plainly. “I am a wealthy man, and people respect me. I can offer you a comfortable life, one free from dictates and judgments. It is worth considering.”

Jacqueline watched Devil rise.

“You have my card. Take some time, and give it some thought.” Devil replaced his hat. Bowing to Lady Edwards, he saw himself out, the butler closing the door behind him with a firm hand.

Marriage. Not just marriage, but marriage to the devil.
 

Jacqueline pushed her food around her plate. Her father sat next to her, neither one of them eating. Her father had arrived home that evening, ignoring the meal and instead calling for his customary bottle of brandy.
 

Jacqueline didn’t have it in her to object, or care.
 

She’d spent the afternoon replaying her discussion with Devil, listing out every reason she couldn’t marry him. It was a long list.

Devil was everything she’d been raised to avoid. He was the epitome of unacceptable, defying every convention she’d come to expect in a husband.

His background was common knowledge. The bastard son of a whore, it was said he owned the brothel his mother once worked in. After her death, he turned to street fighting, which explained the aquiline nose that appeared to have been broken more than once.
 

He’d made a name for himself, working his way up to rule the streets he’d once run as a boy. She could respect that, she supposed, but he was surrounded by violence and crime. It wasn’t a life for her.

“I understand you had a visitor this afternoon.” Lord John considered the glass in his hand, swirling the amber liquid of his drink.

Jacqueline froze.
Benson!
 

“What did he want?”

Biding her time, Jacqueline took her first bite, chewing slowly. The food was cold, and the sauce had started to congeal. “He had a business proposal.”

Lord John snorted. “I bet he did.”

Jacqueline ignored her father.

After Henry’s visit, Jacqueline had thought her fate was sealed. There would be no more parties, no suitors, no friends. Catherine hadn’t come to call and had sent Jacqueline’s card back. It was just Jacqueline and her father. And then Devil arrived, tempting her with a never-before considered possibility.

“Well, I’m sorry, my dear.” Lord John awkwardly patted his daughter’s hand and poured himself another drink. He would have to be more careful in the future. First the Gates boy, and now this. “I fear that you will occasionally have to deal with such unsavory propositions, an unfortunate circumstance of your misfortune.”

Misfortune. That’s what her father had taken to calling her kidnapping.

“I wouldn’t call it unsavory,” Jacqueline said. Unexpected, but not unsavory.

Lord John frowned, his eyes slipping out of focus. “I find the suggestion that my daughter whore herself out to a known criminal extremely unsavory.”

Jacqueline blinked. Her father’s brows were pulled down over eyes gone bright with drink. “Papa, Mr. Radcliffe didn’t come asking me to be his mistress, if that’s what you were thinking. He came to ask me to be his wife.”

Lord John stared at his daughter, blinking her back into focus as her words slowly penetrated. “I beg your pardon?”

“Mr. Radcliffe asked me to marry him.” Jacqueline realized that, for the first time, those words didn’t evoke an immediate denial.
 

“Why would he want to marry you?” Lord John demanded.

Jacqueline flinched. “He believes some of his business opportunities might do better were he to have a respectable wife.”

“You’re no longer considered respectable.”

Jacqueline had thought the very same thing, but the words hurt coming from her own father. “I pointed that out to him, but he seemed to think my name would be sufficient.”

“You mean
my
name,” Lord John said quietly. “And what do you get in exchange? Did he offer you a house? Jewels?”

“No, but marriage would go a long way toward repairing my reputation.” Jacqueline’s eyes begged her father to understand. “I could go out again, maybe not as before, but it would be something more than the life I have now.”

“You can’t seriously be considering the man’s offer?” The realization sobered Lord John and lifted him out of his chair. “I forbid it!”

Jacqueline jumped as her father pounded on the table, upsetting the silverware and knocking over her glass. Red wine spread out, staining the pristine white tablecloth crimson.
 

“No daughter of mine will soil herself with the likes of that…that…filth! You will remain here, in this house with me!” Lord John hammered the table, the punch of his fist emphasizing each word. “You owe me that much.”

Jacqueline recoiled as if her father had slapped her, the truth hitting her in the face. It always came down to this, to the debt she’d been born with.
 

It was a debt that could never be repaid.
 

No matter how much Jacqueline sacrificed, her father would always blame her for her mother’s death, and her “misfortune” was just another thread tying them together.

“I can’t stay.” Jacqueline’s whisper echoed in the dining room.
 

“I beg your pardon?” Lord John’s eyes narrowed. Surely, he hadn’t heard correctly.

“I can’t stay.” Jacqueline lifted her chin, her voice growing stronger. “I can’t stay here.”

“You are my daughter; you will do as you are told!”

“I want a life, Papa, a chance at happiness. Don’t I deserve to be happy?”

“You don’t deserve anything! You stole your mother’s life, ripped it from her womb as she birthed you.”

“Women die in childbirth. It’s not the babe’s fault, and it wasn’t mine.”

“It is your fault!” Lord John shouted, rising from his seat and hurling his brandy across the room. The glass shattered against the wall, shards of glass raining down.

Jacqueline stood so fast her chair tipped backward, crashing to the floor. “I’m sorry, Papa, but I can’t do this anymore!”

Lord John grabbed onto the table, steadying himself as his daughter fled the room. “If you do this, if you leave, you will no longer be my daughter!”

Upstairs, she slammed the door to her room, throwing the lock and pocketing the key. She went to the small, rolltop desk in the corner. Taking out Devil’s card, she considered the single word marking his direction.

Turning the card over, Jacqueline penned her response.

Yes.

Devil frowned at the card in his hand.
 

She’d said yes.
 

Lady Edwards had agreed to marry him, that single thought the only one currently occupying Devil’s brain. He hadn’t expected her to accept, he realized, and wasn’t prepared for an actual wedding.

“What have you got there?” Finn leaned over Devil’s shoulder. The two were back on speaking terms, Finn having diverted his conscience with another trip to see Annie. Several, actually.

“It’s nothing.” Devil slipped the card into his breast pocket, catching a faint whiff of something feminine. He hadn’t told Finn about his visit to Lady Edwards, or his proposal.
 

“Looks like a lady’s handwriting.” Finn broke into a smile. “You got yourself an assignation?”

Devil ignored him.

“Aye, I bet bossman here is meeting someone special.” Finn elbowed Moose, who grunted. “Otherwise, why all the secrecy?”

Devil dug around on his desk. He would need a special license and a place to get married. Someone to officiate—and witnesses. Devil glanced up. Not Finn or Moose. Lady Edwards hadn’t recognized him, but putting the three of them in a room with her was just asking for trouble.

Besides, he didn’t want either man knowing about the marriage until the deed was done. The fact that he’d risked a visit to see Lady Jacqueline was enough to give the Irishman fits. For a criminal, Finn was considerably risk adverse.

Andrew. The canon would know what to do and be able to help get matters ready.
 

“I’m going out,” Devil announced. “Take delivery on the brandy, and then make the rounds.” It was the first of the month, and the rents were due.

“You sure you don’t want us to come along and watch your back?” Finn smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time Devil had enjoyed a woman and wasn’t the least bit bothered when his boss closed the door without answering.
 

CHAPTER SIX

“Are you sure you want to go through with this, my lady?” Emme asked. They were closeted inside a rented hackney, Lord Edwards having refused his daughter the use of the family carriage.
 

Devil’s reply to Jacqueline’s acceptance had been brief, directing her to Westminster Abbey the following Saturday at ten o’clock in the morning. That had given her two days to reconsider—something she had done many, many times.
 

Jacqueline glanced out the window. Westminster Abbey stood waiting. Presumably, so did her fiancé, though the doors to the church were closed, and the street in front of the famed church was quiet.
 

Her hands were damp inside her gloves. Unable to sleep, she’d risen early, treating herself to a full bath in front of the fire. The steaming water had eased tense muscles, a product of her sleepless nights, while Emme washed and brushed out her hair.

“Will you wear it down, my lady?” Emme had asked.

“No,” Jacqueline said. Brides wore their hair down as a sign of purity.
 

What if he doesn’t show
? Jacqueline wondered. She choked back a nervous laugh. It would be just her luck to have come this far, to have defied her father only to have everything fall apart.
 

Lord Edwards had made his position on the matter clear.

“Step one foot out that door, and don’t bother coming back.” Lord Edwards braced himself in the study doorway. Glassy-eyed, he’d locked himself away and spent the better part of the past two days drinking. The commotion of his daughter’s departure had drawn him from his sorrows in time to see her descending the stairs.

“Papa, please,” Jacqueline said, eyeing her father warily. His coat was gone and the top two buttons of his shirt were missing. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

Behind her, Emme stood beside Benson. The maid had agreed to come with Jacqueline, remaining in her employ and leaving the only home she had ever known.

“You’ve made your choice, girl,” Lord Edwards slurred, pushing away from the doorway. “Now, live with it.”

Jacqueline winced as the study door slammed shut.
 

“Come away, my lady,” Emme said, taking Jacqueline by the arm and leading her outside. “You don’t want to be late for your own wedding.”

“Do you think she’s having second thoughts,” Andrew asked, staring out the window. Lady Edwards’ carriage had arrived ten minutes ago, but the lady herself had yet to appear.

“I would think she’s well beyond second thoughts by now,” Devil said. If Lady Edwards was smart, she would have moved past second thoughts and be well into what-the-hell-am-I-doing-territory by now.
 

“Maybe you should go out and get her.” Andrew pressed his nose to the glass, leaving a small smudge that he quickly wiped away with his sleeve. He’d been surprised, then honored, and finally concerned by Devil’s request to officiate over his marriage to Lady Edwards. The poor girl had been traumatized and her reputation ruined, but marriage to Devil…well…it wasn’t going to be easy.

“The girl has been forced enough,” Devil said, taking a seat in one of the empty pews. “I’m in no rush.”

It was another ten minutes before Andrew pushed away from the window. “Your bride comes.”
 

The canon hurried to open the Abbey doors. A moment later, Lady Edwards stepped inside, her maid following close behind.
 

“Welcome! Welcome!” Andrew smiled, his face slipping into the warm lines of the clergy. “I’m Canon Andrew.”
 

“Hello.” Jacqueline smiled at the canon, surprised when he tucked her hand into his arm and started leading her down the aisle. The church was empty, and their footsteps echoed off the marble floors.
 

“I’m an old friend of Devil’s. He asked me to perform the ceremony, but if there is anything you need before we get started, just ask.”

Devil let Andrew fuss over his fiancé, waiting until the pair reached him to stand and step into the aisle.

There was an awkward moment of silence. Jacqueline glanced back and forth between the canon and her fiancé. An interesting connection.
 

“Well,” Andrew clapped his hands together. “I’ll give you two a moment before we get started.”

Devil watched his fiancée, his eyes on her face as Andrew hurried away toward the chapel. Jacqueline watched the canon disappear down the aisle, her gaze slowly turning to her fiancé.

“You look lovely,” Devil said, knowing it was expected. It was also true.
 
Lady Edwards wore an emerald green dress with a wide neckline and fitted waist. Her hair was up, a few loose tendrils accenting the slender column of her neck and the creamy expanse of her shoulders.

“Thank you.” Jacqueline was shaking, the nervousness in her stomach making her grateful she skipped breakfast that morning. She had forgotten the physical impression he had made just by being in a room. Even here, in Westminster Abbey where royals were married, he stood out from the intricate background, a commanding presence that demanded attention.
 

“You look very nice,” Jacqueline offered. He looked better than nice, and when he smiled, as he did just then, he appeared downright devastating.
 

“I’ve been told I clean up quite well.” Devil offered Jacqueline his arm. “Are you ready?”

Not in the least. “Yes.”

Devil guided Jacqueline up the aisle. The ceremony was blissfully short, Canon Andrew reciting the words that would bind them together for all eternity. There was only one awkward moment, when Canon Andrew asked for the rings.