Chapter Fourteen
The gray light of dawn was still and a heavy shroud of mist clung to the small clearing as Charles and William Barrett neared the abandoned carriage and the small cottage where Marcus and Miss Barrett would have spent the remainder of the night.
In the yard, Barrett dismounted. “If she’s been ruined, I’ll see him dead,” he said fiercely.
“For someone who’s never seemed to have a particular care for his daughter, you’ve made a sudden change of heart, Barrett,” Charles pointed out.
“She can toss her skirt up for anyone she likes once she’s wed to a legitimate title,” the man snapped. “But she’s only of value to me as a virgin who can be married off to the highest ranked bidder!”
Charles smirked behind the man. “He’s not an imposter. I promise you that he is the real Marquess of Althorn. You’re doing all this for naught!”
“It doesn’t matter whether he is or not,” Barrett responded. “Only that other people believe it without question. I’ve spent a fortune to connect my line to that of a duke, and forever more that union will now be tainted with doubt!”
“You really are a grasping, social climbing weasel,” Charles said softly. Luckily, Barrett was too far ahead of him on the path to the carriage to have heard the whispered insult. Whether it was necessary or not, Charles decided that the man would have to meet an unfortunate accident on the road. They would all be far better off without his coarse manners and foul temper about them.
*
It had been just after dawn when they left the small cottage. The abandoned carriage, horseless and mud splattered, was parked in front of it. Marcus had led them into the woods, to a narrow and slightly overgrown path. He said it would lead them to the main house, but had been far too dangerous to attempt at night.
At the noise of approaching riders, he’d placed a staying hand in front of her and insisted they conceal themselves behind several trees. At the first sight of her father and Charles, she’d thought perhaps it was to be a rescue attempt. After overhearing their conversation, she knew it was anything but.
“What are they about, do you think?” Jane queried in a near silent whisper as she glanced at Marcus. He frowned in response and kept his gaze trained on the cottage door.
“I believe your father is attempting to halt our marriage for the first time in our lives,” he answered. He then added with quiet menace, “And he will not succeed.”
“And Charles? Why would he be here to help him when it’s clear that he orchestrated all of this?” Jane asked.
“I don’t know the answer to that. I only know that we cannot trust either of them… and we must get well off this path or risk discovery. Come with me, Jane,” he said and held out his hand to her.
Jane glanced back at the cottage. Two days earlier, any hint of her father having second thoughts about the marriage between herself and Marcus would have been viewed as a miracle. But the tides had turned irrevocably. Placing her hand in Marcus’ she allowed him to lead her deeper into the forest.
It was dark, the heavy woods not yet penetrated by the weak sunlight. She could barely see and had to allow him to guide her. It was an apt metaphor for everything in their lives at that moment.
Jane followed him along what might have been a path at one time but was now overgrown and difficult to traverse. She stumbled occasionally, but he was always there, steadying her and helping her when the way was rough. Evening slippers were hardly meant for such terrain, she thought grimly. Still, it was only a mile or so to the house. She could endure that. But then another thought entered her mind, one that induced panic.
“What if they go on to the house and are waiting there for us? Surely on horseback or by carriage they will beat us on foot,” she asked.
“We won’t go directly to the house. There’s a man nearby, someone we can trust implicitly, who will allow us to remain there until Charles and the others have gone. It’s very likely they will go on to Gretna Green in pursuit… so we may have to change our plans. How do you feel about being married by special license in London?”
“So long as it’s done, I don’t care where or how,” she answered. It wasn’t entirely true. Every young girl dreamed of a beautiful wedding in a church with flowers and a lovely gown. Of course, she’d also once dreamed of having her father’s affection and transforming into a rare beauty overnight. It seemed none of those things was to occur. Despite those things that might be lacking, her future and her present were far better than she’d thought possible. To ask for more would only have been greedy on her part.
“You do care,” he countered. “Very much. And I’m sorry for that. Deeply sorry that this cannot be what you want it to be.”
Jane considered her answer carefully. “Many young women have beautiful weddings and abominable marriages. I would much rather thwart convention and go the other route.”
“Abominable?” Marcus repeated with a chuckle. “Will it be as bad as all that, do you think?”
“Well, no. But we have been browbeaten, abducted, our reputations thoroughly compromised—”
“More than just your reputation,” he reminded her pointedly.
Jane blushed. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. Now, we’re scurrying through the woods like criminals in the same clothes we wore the day before. How else would you characterize it?”
He paused to help her over a particularly large fallen tree. “What was it you asked me about my escape from the prison? ‘Was it dashing’ I believe you said. Is this dashing, Jane?”
She grimaced at having her own words thrown back at her. “That was a terrible thing to ask. Not if you were hurt or injured or unwell… I just wanted something to put in that awful column!”
He grinned. “When we are back in London, married by special license, and all the particulars of the marriage settlement suitably arranged… you can add the woeful tale of our elopement to your column.”
“By then it will be old news,” she quipped. “No doubt Charles sang it from the rooftops last night.”
“No doubt he did,” Marcus agreed. “We’re almost there. Can you see that small cottage through the trees?”
“I can,” she said. It was similar to the one they’d stayed in the night before albeit somewhat larger and significantly more active. Chickens ran through the yard and several small children were cavorting there, as well.
As they approached, the children squealed and ran toward the house just as a tall, dark-haired man emerged. Jane was struck immediately by his resemblance to Marcus. It was quite marked. “Who was it that you said lived here? A friend?”
“I didn’t say. But from your expression, I daresay you have guessed that he is more than simply a friend. His name is Thomas Carter and he is my half-brother… illegitimate, of course, because my father was a faithless scoundrel who couldn’t keep his hands off of the house maids,” he said bitterly. “Thomas was born nine months to the day after my mother was buried. It was quite obvious how my father consoled himself after her death.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, uncertain of how else to respond to that.
“There’s no bitterness toward Thomas,” Marcus added. “Only toward my father. Thomas has always been a blessing to me… I always promised him that when I had control of the estates and my own fortune that his circumstances would be better. He’s the one who is largely responsible for making Whitehaven a profitable estate. He’s seeing to both our futures it would seem.”
With that, he stepped away from her and approached his waiting half-brother. They embraced warmly for a moment and she could hear Thomas speaking.
“I’d heard you returned,” Thomas said warmly. “It is good to see you. Better than I can say.”
“It’s good to see you, as well,” Marcus replied easily. “But, alas, we are not here to visit. We need your help.”
“You may have whatever you need,” Thomas answered immediately. “All that I have is yours.”
“We need a coach to get us back to London and, if possible, does Ann have clothing that Jane could borrow?”
Thomas looked at her then, his eyebrows arching upward in a very familiar expression but one that was quickly masked. “I daresay we can come up with something. Do come inside,” he urged.
As they approached the door, Marcus added, “And Thomas, if Jane’s father and Charles should happen to come by here asking after us, as much as I hate to ask it of you, please lie.”
Thomas’ expression firmed. “I’ve never known you to be dishonorable when it comes to ladies and I don’t think you would be, whatever the situation. I can assume you plan to do right by the young miss?”
“As soon as possible… and for what it’s worth, we wouldn’t be out here in this condition at all were it not for Charles’ scheming. Miss Jane Barrett is my betrothed and has been for years. Charles has elected to move up the timeline of our nuptials by putting us in a compromising position. But some rumors were inadvertently begun in London that I am not who I claim to be and now her father wishes to renege on the marriage contract.”
Thomas’ scowl deepened. “Charles will have some way to profit from it or he’d never have put in the work… a lazier man I’ve never encountered. As for her father, title or no, you’ve clearly been alone together in a situation that could only be rectified by marriage. He must see that.”
Jane stepped forward. “My father is a bit of a social climber. He’s more concerned with the validity of Marcus’ title than with my virtue or reputation.”
“That is true enough,” Marcus agreed.
Thomas frowned and shook his head sadly. “I cannot fathom how people can be so greedy and cruel! Let’s get you both inside. While you’re getting changed, I’ll head to the inn at Gravestead and see about obtaining a coach for you.”
“Thank you, Thomas. I couldn’t ask for a better friend or brother,” Marcus said, clearly moved by the other man’s easy acceptance and willingness to help.
“Anne will be eager to meet you, miss,” he said and clapped Marcus on the back as they all entered the small cottage.
Anne, Thomas’ wife, rushed forward and immediately took Jane under her wing. “Come with me, my dear! We’ll get you a nice pot of tea and some warmer clothes! Why you must be half-frozen!”
“Thank you,” Jane said, taken aback by the warmth and kindness of total strangers. She looked back over her shoulder at Marcus as Anne led her away. He and Thomas were already deep in conversation.
*
“So what’s happened?” Thomas asked. “What has driven you to the middle of nowhere with your betrothed… months before you’re to be wed, alone—not even a whisper of a chaperone! Never in my life, Marcus, have I known you to be reckless. So give over. What has Charles done?”
Marcus sighed heavily and took a sip of the heady brew that Thomas had poured for him. He coughed. “Good God! Warn a fellow, won’t you?”
“Don’t change the subject!”
“I wasn’t,” Marcus insisted, shaking his head to clear the fog created by the drink. “I simply wasn’t expecting such potent spirits before breakfast.”
Thomas laughed. “We’re farmers, Marcus! The day is halfway done by now.”
“So it is… Jane and I were attending the theater last night. Charles and my dear stepmother were in attendance as well. Jane begged off because the crowd and the gossip were simply unbearable. But when we entered the carriage, where we were to wait for Charles and Cassandra, the door slammed, the vehicle shot forward and we were carried off into the night.”
“The both of you were abducted in plain view of everyone?” Thomas asked. “Why? What would Charles get from that?”
“I’ve no idea, honestly,” Marcus admitted. “Before my return, he was pursuing Jane for himself. Now, he’s throwing the two of us together in an attempt to force our hands into marriage much sooner than either of us had agreed upon.”
Thomas shook his head sadly. “You don’t see it, do you? I know about her fortune. Everyone does. I’m sure that Charles has plans that include you giving him a great deal of money… perhaps settling his debts.”
Marcus grimaced. “Charles would never expect generosity from me… not now. Not after Corunna.”
Thomas frowned. “What happened at Corunna and why would that change anything between you and Charles?”
Marcus wanted to tell him, but until there was evidence of Charles’ crime, the less said the better. “I would tell you if I could. But Charles is not to be trusted… not at any cost.”
“Those are wise words, Brother, and words you should heed. If Charles thinks you will not give him the funds he needs, then rest assured he will have a plan to take them from you,” Thomas warned. “No one knows his viciousness better than I do.”
It was true. In their childhood, Charles had been three years Thomas’ senior. Young as they were, three years had given him quite the advantage. He’d beaten Thomas to a pulp at every opportunity. Even the duke had grown disgusted with it and finally intervened, forbidding Charles to ever come to Whitehaven again. It had been the only time in their childhood that the man had ever acknowledged Thomas at all.
“I’ll be careful of him. Tell me about the estate,” Marcus suggested, changing the subject to one that better suited them both. “I looked over the ledgers and what you’ve achieved here is remarkable.”
“You’ve no wish to talk about that now. Not when you’ve a bride waiting for you,” Thomas declined with a smile. “I’ll head into the village and obtain a vehicle for you. Stay out of sight here.”
Marcus nodded. “Of course… Thomas, I meant what I said. When I have the means, you and Anne will be able to live far differently if you choose.”
Thomas shook his head. “I don’t mind the farming, or the looking after your estates. In truth, Marcus, I’m a simple man with simple needs. What I will ask for is that you help my children. See them situated in life. Beyond that, I could not and will not ask for more.”
“Whatever they require… education, dowries… they will not want,” Marcus vowed.
Thomas nodded. “Then we shall do our catching up another time. For now, let me do what I can to see you and your bride safely away before the villains come a-knocking.”
Marcus watched him exit. Sitting there alone in the small room that served as both dining room and parlor, Marcus considered Thomas’ life. He’d once thought his brother very poor. Spoiled and used to luxury as he had been, the idea of living in such a small home with children underfoot and chickens screeching in the yard had been distasteful to him. But his time in prison had changed him. The things he had once reviled as the hallmarks of poverty now appealed to him far more than a grand estate with servants always underfoot and people always gossiping.
He longed for a simple life and he prayed that Jane would be content with such. It would not bode well for their union otherwise.
*
An hour later, Jane was dressed in a borrowed gown of simple blue wool and a heavy cloak. “I can’t possibly take these. They are very fine and I’ve no notion of how I’ll be able to return them to you,” Jane protested.
Anne Carter smiled. “You needn’t worry, Miss Barrett. Our Marcus has always taken care of us… well, until he couldn’t. These last five years have been hard for Thomas. He worried something fierce over what might have become of his brother… I know it’s frowned upon my most folks for us to acknowledge that they’re related, but it’s so plain to see when you look upon them, I feel foolish pretending otherwise!”
Jane smiled at that. “The resemblance is rather remarkable. I’m glad that he’ll be able to continue helping you all… I’m sure your farm is quite successful, but with four children, help must surely always be welcome.”
Anne smiled and walked to the crib in the corner, picking up the youngest of her brood. The baby was less than a year old, but a more beautiful child she’d never seen, Jane thought. Dark-haired and dark-eyed, the baby bore a marked resemblance to his father and uncle. “That is true to be sure, miss. But do not worry yourself over the gown and cloak. They were gifts from Marcus to us and now they will be gifted back to you so that you may travel home to London in comfort. I swear you must have been half-frozen in that gown! And lovely as those slippers were at one time, it’s good I had those boots for you!”
It was a relief to be dressed in warmer and sturdier shoes. The walk through the woods had not been kind to her feet nor to her stockings. One would recover but the other most assuredly would not. It was also quite a relief to be wearing something other than a ruined evening gown. It would at least give her the illusion of respectability even if any shred of it had been eagerly sacrificed the night before.
Jane said nothing further as she heard carriage wheels rumbling just below. Going to the window, she saw that Thomas had returned from Gravestead with the vehicle. It was nondescript, older and clearly worse for wear, but it was also inconspicuous. Given that her father would stop at nothing to stop the marriage he’d once fought so desperately to have occur, discretion was the order of the day.
“Thomas has returned,” Anne said. “So you and Marcus will be off now. Before you go, I just want to say that I hope you both have even a tenth of the love and happiness that Thomas and I have been blessed with.”
They didn’t, Jane thought sadly. They had desire, passion, those things that Marcus had stated were necessary for love to grow, but not love itself. But with a glance at Anne Carter’s earnest expression and the warmth in her lovely gaze, Jane didn’t protest. Instead, she said, “I hope that, too. Thank you, Anne… and since we are to be sisters, you will call me Jane. I hope to come visit you again soon.” Jane reached out and stroked the baby’s dark curls. “And this one.”
Anne smiled. “Mayhap you’ll be working on having one of your own the next time we meet.”
Jane was overwhelmed at the thought. Marcus had indicated that he wanted a family, that he wanted to be the kind of father that neither of them had been blessed with. She’d seen him downstairs with Thomas’ and Anne’s children, playing and roughhousing with the older boys before being thoroughly charmed by their sweet little girl. It had sparked a yearning in her for a family of her own, a longing that she’d felt before but had always tamped down and repressed because her circumstances had seemed to preclude it altogether. But all of that had changed. And as long as they could manage to avoid her father and Charles, it was within her grasp.
“Maybe I will,” Jane agreed softly.
There was a sharp rap at the door and Marcus called out to her from beyond it, “Are you ready? We had best be underway in case Charles should happen to remember that Thomas is close by.”
Jane hugged Anne. “Thank you for everything.”
“Thank you for giving Marcus a chance at happiness. He deserves it so,” Anne whispered as she hugged Jane just as fiercely in return. “You both do. I can see it in your eyes.”
Jane still wasn’t entirely certain that happiness was in store for them. But she was, for the first time in her life, willing to hope for it. Crossing to the bedchamber door, she opened it and stepped outside. Marcus smiled at her.
“I’ve not seen you in anything but black or gray since returning home. Blue suits you,” he said softly. “It matches your eyes.”
Jane noted that he’d obtained clothing from Thomas as well. They were dressed well enough, but looked nothing like the heir to a dukedom and his bride. “Do you think we’ve concealed our identities well enough?”
Marcus ushered her toward the door with a hand at the small of her back. It was a familiar gesture, an intimate one that could only remind her of all the ways he’d touched her the night before. Jane felt her pulse race at the thought and her face heated with a blush.
“I think it should suffice,” he said as they exited the cottage. In a lower voice to keep the hired coachman from overhearing, he continued, “Thomas told the coachman that he and his wife were traveling to London. He and Anne will remain inside while you and I take their places in the carriage. With my hat pulled low, Thomas and I look enough alike that the coachman should not notice.”
“Then let us go before we bring more danger and difficulty to their door. I worry what Charles might be capable of, but I also worry at my father’s temper if he were to catch us here. He’s obsessed with having a title, Marcus. It could go very badly for you. If he challenges you to a duel—”
Marcus shushed her softly as they neared the carriage. As the driver made no move to come down from the box and aid them, Jane was forced to have Marcus assist her inside. Again, each touch reminded her of the night before and all that had transpired. Reminders were unnecessary of course. Those moments in the darkness of an abandoned cottage had marked her forever in ways that he might never know. For the first time in her life, Jane had felt truly beautiful. More than that, she’d felt wanted. Beyond simple desire, it was something infinitely more. She had believed when he looked at her that he wished to be there with her and only her, that for him no other woman would do. It was a novel experience and one that she would treasure regardless of what else might transpire.
Once inside the carriage, settled on seats opposite one another, Marcus replied in a serious tone. “You father will not challenge me. If he does, I will refuse… no one could fault me for that. It is an impossible situation. To kill or be killed by the father of my betrothed? It will not happen, Jane. I vow it.”
“You say that as if he will give you a choice!” she cried as the carriage lurched forward. “His pride has been wounded. He will not be reasoned with in such a state!”
“We will work this out. In the meantime, we go to Highcliff. He’ll help us make the necessary arrangements to be married in secret. I wish it were not this way. I wish that you could have the kind of wedding I know all young women dream of.”
“I don’t need orange blossoms and a massive wedding breakfast,” she said softly. “I just need for this to go smoothly and for my father and your cousin to stay far from London long enough for us to see this through.”
Without warning, Marcus reached for her. He tugged her across the expanse of the carriage until she was sprawled rather inelegantly across his lap. “All will be well. I promise.”
“You cannot promise that because it is not within your control,” she pointed out. In spite of her fears and misgivings, there was a strange comfort in being so close to him. In the circle of his arms, with his strength surrounding her, sheltering her—she felt safe there.
“I can. I have a sense about these things,” he teased.
“You do not. If you did, you wouldn’t have wound up spending five years in a French prison!”
He laughed at that. “I have no rebuttal to that… so perhaps it’s best if we just not talk at all.”
“All the way to London?” she asked. “It will make for a very boring journey!”
“There are other things we can do with our lips to while away the hours, Jane. Shall I remind you?”
Her breath caught at the sensual promise in his voice. “I may have forgotten. Perhaps a little reminder wouldn’t hurt.”
She closed her eyes as his lips pressed to hers and vowed that it would only be a kiss. She would not behave scandalously in a carriage on the open road. But she did.