The Wild Child (38 page)

Dominic knew he should do something—anything—to break the frozen silence. This whole ghastly mess was his fault. But he was numbed by an unholy mixture of his own and his brother’s pain. Knowing that Kyle had wanted to try rebuilding their relationship added an extra dimension of torment. Meriel guided him to the nearest chair. As she pushed him into the seat, she ordered, “Leave us.”

Silently the other guests obeyed. Even the cat left the room.

When they were alone, Meriel embraced Dominic, cradling his head to her breasts. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly as she stroked the back of his neck. “I did not really understand how badly your brother would take news of our marriage.”

Dominic wrapped his arms around her, shaking and chilled to the bone. “Kyle and I have been estranged for years, but there was always a basic trust. I have broken that, and he will never forgive me.”

Kyle had never been very good at forgiveness— he’d left that to Dominic.

“You broke faith with him to keep faith with me. That took a great and terrible courage.” She rested her cheek against his hair. “Thank you, my husband.”

He closed his eyes, concentrating on her blessed warmth and his own breathing. In, out. In, out. This was worse than if Kyle had died, for death would be devastating but relatively simple. A mere matter of losing part of his soul. This savage rupture, a nightmare of anguish and betrayal, would permanently scar both Kyle and himself.

Could he have done anything differently, perhaps hidden Meriel somewhere safe until after Kyle returned? His brother would still have been furious, but it would not have been as bad as learning about the marriage in such a shattering way.

The sickening image of Meriel tied to the chair at Bladenham flashed through Dominic’s mind. He could not have risked that happening again. The danger from Grahame had been very real. Her uncle had been a soldier. If he’d run them down with a magistrate at his back and a dueling pistol in his hand, it might have ended with Dominic dead and Meriel locked in some hellish asylum, dying by inches. Bleakly he accepted that he could not have risked acting differently, not when Meriel’s safety and sanity were at stake. He’d made his choice, and now he must live with the consequences. At least, thank God, Meriel trusted him enough to know that he hadn’t acted from the base motives Kyle had accused him of. Life went on. Eventually, this pain would diminish to a bearable level. It would be harder for Kyle, who didn’t have a Meriel, and who had so recently suffered some other great grief. That knowledge was another slash of the blade that had already left Dominic’s heart bleeding. But he could not sit here clinging to Meriel like a terrified child forever. He released his grip and looked up at her. She was regarding him gravely, the window behind her transforming her flaxen hair and white veil into a nimbus of light. She looked like an angel, though he knew her well enough to see the steel beneath the silk.

Delicately she skimmed his cheek with butterfly fingertips. “I used to dream that I had a twin sister,” she said softly. “A sister soul who would be my best friend, who would always love and understand me. I never thought of the dark side of being twin-born—the ability to devastate each other.”

He sighed. “You and I shall have to be each other’s best friends, my love.”

Seeing that he had regained his control, she smiled and gave him a light, sweet kiss. “Aren’t we now?”

He managed to smile back. “You are worth any price, Meriel.”

“I’m glad you realize that,” she said demurely. “Now, my husband, we will partake of the wedding breakfast with our good friends, so they will forget the unpleasantness and remember only the joy. Then we shall return home to Warfield.”

He got to his feet and pulled her into a hug. “I like it when you’re imperious.”

“Then in the future you should be a very happy man.”

Despite his mood, he had to laugh. Arm around his bride, he headed from the drawing room. Perhaps someday, God willing, Kyle would listen to reason, though Dominic wasn’t counting on it. Even if that never happened, at least he had Meriel.

Kyle didn’t know how long he walked blindly around London, unaware of his surroundings as his pulse hammered betrayed, betrayed, betrayed. And by Dominic, whom he had never imagined could be his enemy.

His mind finally cleared on Westminster Bridge when he leaned on the parapet and stared down at the rushing waters of the Thames. In a distant part of his mind, he realized that he was actually thinking about jumping.

His hands tightened on the stone at the horrifying awareness that he had fallen so low. Think how satisfied Dominic would be—with Kyle dead, he would be the next Earl of Wrexham, and one of the richest men in England.

Kyle turned grimly from the river. He’d be damned if he’d let Dominic have Wrexham. Besides, with his luck, he’d probably be pulled ignominiously from the water by one of the busy Thames riverboats. The emptiness that filled him since Constancia’s death had expanded to a whole new dimension. What would he do with his life now that he no longer had Lady Meriel Grahame to anchor him to the world?

Certainly he must find another bride and get several sons on her so that Dominic would never inherit Wrexham. But courtship would have to wait. It had been possible to imagine a shadow marriage with a witless girl, but the thought of putting a real wife in Constancia’s place was unendurable. He could summon only one frail goal: to return to Dornleigh. It was the least welcoming great house in England, but it was home. Vaguely he remembered that his father and sister had intended to visit Lucia’s future in-laws, so with luck he’d have the place to himself, bar a hundred or so servants. Dornleigh. Odd how the desire to go home survived when all else was gone. He gave thanks for that, for otherwise he would have nothing.

Chapter 37

“Welcome home!” Jena Ames came out to meet the carriage, greeting Meriel with a hug. “I presume you’re now Lady Meriel Renbourne?”

Meriel blinked. She hadn’t thought about her new name. “So I am.”

Dominic smiled at her with a warmth that sent tingles through interesting places. The return to Shropshire had been more relaxed than the journey to London. She hadn’t realized how much mischief one could get into inside a carriage…

“Meriel managed London very well,” Dominic said. “I believe I even heard her say, when we were a safe distance from the city, that she might like to visit again.”

“But not soon,” Meriel said austerely. Though she still had her doubts about cities, she had enjoyed Rebecca and Kenneth and their children. She had even come to appreciate the sense of excitement that was as much a part of London as the soot. The next visit to the metropolis would be easier. Laughing, they entered Holliwell Grange. By the time Jena had ordered a tea tray, the general had appeared from the stables. “So the deed is done,” he said jovially. After shaking Dominic’s hand, he kissed the bride, smelling not unpleasantly of horse.

Conversation was casual until they’d had tea and currant cakes. Then Jena purposefully set her cup aside. “Lord Gra-hame raced up to Gretna Green trying to find you, Meriel. Since he failed, he’s waiting at Warfield for you two to return.”

Meriel nodded. Her uncle would know that she wouldn’t stay away from Warfield for long.

“Thank you for the information,” Dominic said soberly. “I’ve wondered what he has been doing.”

Jena dropped her gaze, her cheeks coloring. “Kamal has kept us informed.”

Apparently matters were progressing between Jena and Kamal. Meriel asked, “The ladies are well?”

“Yes, and much relieved after Kamal told them you’d gone off to marry.” Jena glanced at Dominic.

“They approve of you.”

Meriel saw the faint tightening of her husband’s face. He had not referred to the disastrous scene his brother had made at the wedding, but she felt the ache inside him. She wondered if he would ever forgive himself for doing what had to be done.

The general said flatly, “Now what?”

Meriel and Dominic exchanged a glance. They had discussed this on the journey, and agreed that the direct approach would be best. “We plan to ride to Warfield together, and would appreciate your joining us in your capacity as magistrate,” she said. “I can pretend to be a completely sane lady for long enough to convince my uncle that his misguided efforts on my behalf are no longer needed.”

“I’ll come, too,” Jena said. “The more supporters Meriel has, the better.”

The general nodded. “Grahame is stubborn, but no fool. Once he gets it through his skull that Lady Meriel is normal, your problems are over.”

Meriel frowned. “Will speech and good clothing be enough to convince people I’m sane after so many years when I was considered mad?”

“Actually, those things are enough. We are judged largely by appearances. If you talk and dress as a lady, by definition you are a lady.” Dominic smiled wryly. “And of course you’re an heiress, which means that you are charmingly eccentric, not mad.”

The others nodded agreement, but Meriel was less sure. It was hard to believe reclaiming her home would be so easy.

After breakfast the next morning, the party set off for War-field on four of the general’s excellent horses. Meriel rode beside Dominic, head high, splendid hair coiled beneath a hat, and expression perfectly composed. Rebecca had given her a riding habit, so she used a sidesaddle and looked every inch a lady. Only someone who knew her well would recognize that she was wound tighter than a clock spring.

When they reached the wrought iron gates of Warfield, Meriel rang the bell. The gatekeeper emerged from the handsome gatehouse at his usual leisurely pace.

Meriel inclined her head. “Good day, Walter.”

The old man’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Lady Meriel?”

“Of course.” When he continued to stare, she said sweetly, “The gate, please?”

Hastily Walter unlatched the gates and swung them open. The riders came through, then headed up the long drive four abreast. In his head, Dominic could hear the steady rhythm of army marching drums. Appropriate, since they rode to battle.

His nerves were taut, though he couldn’t imagine any real trouble, not when they had General Ames and the weight of Anglo-Saxon common law on their side. Amazing how much difference a wedding made. Nonetheless, when they approached the house he was relieved to see Grahame stalking down the front steps unarmed. He hadn’t forgotten the older man’s threats when he threw Dominic out of Warfield. Lord Grahame’s gimlet gaze swept across the riders as they halted. Above him, Mrs. Rector and Mrs. Marks emerged to stand tensely at the top of the wide stone steps.

In a voice of barely suppressed fury, Grahame snapped, “Your gall amazes me, Maxwell. I’ve been searching all over England for my niece. General Ames, do you know what this young devil has been doing? ‘tbu can’t, or you wouldn’t be beside him.”

Dominic held his breath as Meriel dismounted gracefully and stood before Grahame, her small figure erect and unyielding as she faced him down. “You should speak to me, Uncle, not my husband and friends.”

The blood drained from Grahame’s face. “My God, you can talk!”

“Indeed.” Meriel looked up at the ladies. “Hello, Mrs. Rector and Mrs. Marks. I hope you have not been too concerned on my behalf.”

“We were worried at first,” Mrs. Marks admitted. Beside her, Mrs. Rector beamed with delight. The enthralled faces of a dozen servants were visible in the windows above. By evening, everyone in Shropshire would know that Lady Meriel was in complete possession of her faculties. Grahame stammered, “B-but if you can talk, how come you never did?”

“I had nothing to say.” Meriel handed her reins to a wide-eyed footman who came down the steps. Voice edged, she continued, “Nor was I mad. While your intentions were good, I did not appreciate being kidnapped and locked up in that vile asylum, nor did I enjoy your threats to my future husband. I trust that nothing so absurd will happen again.”

Her uncle said defensively, “Given your behavior, you really can’t blame me for assuming you were in need of protection.”

Her sardonic glance said that she could indeed blame him, but would graciously refrain. Turning to her companions, she said as casually as if she regularly went riding with friends, “Do please come in for coffee.”

Another footman appeared, and the horses were led away as Meriel and company ascended the steps. Dominic took the chance to murmur to her, “Well done! Only a little longer now.”

She nodded, tense but well in command of herself and the situation. Though Grahame’s jaw was twitching, he did his best to adjust to the new circumstances. By the time everyone was seated in the large salon, he was able to say with a stiff smile, “I’m sorry for the problems I caused you, Meriel. I… I had thought I was caring for you as my brother would have wished.”

Apparently deciding his apology was adequate, Meriel gave her uncle a stunning smile as she stripped off her riding gloves. “I can understand your misapprehensions. We shall speak no more of it. I was fortunate to have two such conscientious guardians.”

The awkwardness was broken when Roxana came galloping up to Meriel, tail wagging and almost beside herself with excitement. Meriel knelt for a few moments to assure the excited dog that she truly had come home.

Her gaze on Meriel’s wedding ring, Mrs. Marks remarked, “Marriage must agree with you, Mer…

Lady Maxwell. I’ve never seen you look so well.”

Meriel exchanged a glance with Dominic as she rose to her feet. This had also been discussed on the return journey. “I am not Lady Maxwell, but Lady Meriel Renbourne. My husband, whom you have come to know and value these last weeks, is Dominic Renbourne, twin brother to Lord Maxwell.”

The ladies gasped, and Lord Grahame’s jaw dropped. “I beg your pardon?” he said in a dangerous voice. “Wrexham has palmed off a younger son on my niece?”

Smoothly Dominic said, “My father knew nothing of the switch. In fact, he still doesn’t. I must write him and my sister tonight.” He’d considered writing from London, but decided it would be better to wait until matters were resolved at Warfield.

Mrs. Marks frowned. “How could Wrexham not know? He and your sister were visitors here for two days!”