BLACKTHORNE WAS COLD and wet and tired, but his journey was nearly done. His horse hadn’t thrown a shoe—or him—and he’d made good time from Ashington to Berwick-upon-Tweed. But despite leaving in the middle of the night, the journey had taken him the entire day. It was late in the afternoon by the time he hit the outskirts of town and found his way to the Black Swan. He’d been grinding his teeth for the better part of the past hour, imagining Seaton’s bones between them.
The blackguard! Where did he get the gall to steal Lark from under my nose? Why did he keep Josie in England against her will? Why did he pretend to be my friend, when his actions were those of a scoundrel?
Blackthorne made sure his mount was comfortably bedded down in the stable, before he headed into the Black Swan. He half expected one of Mr. Thompson’s agents to be waiting to greet him, but he didn’t see anyone wearing a black duster and bowler hat on the porch of the Black Swan or inside the taproom. Thompson’s man likely hadn’t expected Blackthorne to arrive as soon as he had. The ride had been brutal for man and beast.
Blackthorne rang the bell at the counter, and when the innkeeper showed up, announced, “I’m looking for the Earl of Seaton. I believe he’s staying here.”
The innkeeper smiled. “Yes. He’s here with his wife. But you don’t want to go up there.”
“Why not?”
“The young lady has contracted the measles.”
“I’ve had measles. Which room is it?”
“Why don’t I send for the gentleman—”
Blackthorne grabbed the innkeeper by the throat. “Which room?”
“The bridal suite. Last door on the right at—” He stopped speaking abruptly when Blackthorne let go and headed for the stairs.
When he got to the bridal suite, Blackthorne didn’t knock on the door, he simply put a booted foot to the area near the knob and kicked it open. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to see, but it wasn’t what he found.
His sister’s hands rose to the throat of her nightgown. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her elbow perched on a table that had been situated nearby with a chessboard on it. Several pieces had already been moved from the board to the table. Seaton leapt up from a chair that had been squeezed into the space between the wall and the table. Both of them stared at him with frightened eyes.
“Marcus! What’s wrong?” his sister cried.
“What’s wrong?” he roared. “Are you purposely trying to drive me mad? Your being in this room in your nightgown with Seaton is what’s wrong!”
“Let me explain,” Seaton said.
Blackthorne sneered. “I can see for myself what’s going on here.”
“It isn’t what it looks like,” Lark said.
Blackthorne lifted an aristocratic brow. “You’re married to him? And this is a friendly game of chess between husband and wife?”
“Well, no, I’m not,” Lark said. “But we will be when—”
“When hell freezes over!” Blackthorne turned to his former best friend and said in a deadly voice, “I demand satisfaction.”
Blackthorne watched all the blood drain from Seaton’s face. His sister’s face might have blanched as well, but since it was covered in red spots, it was hard to tell.
“None of this is David’s fault,” Lark protested, crawling across the bed toward him. “I’m the one who left home without telling anyone where I was going. I took the train to Berwick-upon-Tweed without David’s knowledge or consent.”
“David? Now Seaton is David?” Blackthorne jeered.
Lark winced. “I wanted…” She lifted her chin and looked disdainfully down her nose at him, a pose he’d seen his grandmother use to great effect. “If you must know, I wanted an adventure. It isn’t David’s fault the train arrived so late in the evening. All he did was try to protect my reputation.”
Blackthorne focused his gaze on Seaton. “By bringing an unmarried lady to an inn and registering as husband and wife?”
The blood rushed back to Seaton’s face. “Lark wasn’t feeling well, which turned out to be measles. It was too late to take her to the Courts’ home, so I thought—”
“You thought you’d take advantage of an innocent girl?”
“You know me better than that,” Seaton shot back.
“Do I? Tell me about Josephine Wentworth.”
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb. I know you took Josie to Tearlach Castle and kept her confined there for two long years.”
Seaton’s mouth dropped open. “That was Josie? The girl I took to the castle was the heiress you married?”
To give him credit, Seaton appeared genuinely astonished, but Blackthorne wasn’t going to be fooled again. “You’re a better actor than I thought. Of course it was Josie!”
“Good lord,” Seaton said, running a nervous hand through his hair. “No, that’s not possible.”
“Josie said you arranged for her to go to Tearlach Castle.”
“I arranged for the girl you rescued to go to Tearlach Castle. Or rather, my sister did. Are you saying Josie and that girl are one and the same?”
“Wait a minute. Just wait!” Blackthorne’s mind was whirling. “Are you suggesting Fanny is responsible for Josie spending the past two years as a maid at one of my properties?”
“Who else would do something as fanciful as hide the girl away somewhere so you could meet her again at some point in the future? That was Fanny from start to finish. She used my solicitor to arrange everything. I never knew the girl’s name. I made it a point not to find out, so I wouldn’t slip when I was in my cups. Fanny kept you from visiting Spencer and Clay so you wouldn’t discover the American’s presence before the time was right.
“And I didn’t say anything in the year after Fanny died, because I knew you needed to marry an heiress to save Blackthorne Abbey. I thought I was doing you a favor.”
Blackthorne was stunned into speechlessness. He sank onto the bed and stared out the window. He felt Lark’s hand on his shoulder and turned a blind eye to her.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
Blackthorne took a deep breath and let it out. “Not really. What am I to do with you?” His gaze shifted from his sister to his friend. “With both of you?”
Seaton took a step forward, reached for Lark’s hand, and held it in his. “I’ve gotten a special license, but we have to wait for Lark to recover from the measles before we can say the words to a cleric.”
“You planned to marry without her grandmother or her sister or me, the head of the family, present?”
“I realize it wasn’t a well-thought-out plan,” Seaton conceded, “but it was all I could think of to prove my intentions toward Lark are honorable.”
“You want to marry my idiot sister?”
“I’ll thank you not to speak of my fiancée in those terms,” Seaton said, his shoulders squaring.
“Thank you, David,” Lark said. “And I’m not an idiot, Marcus. I’m in love with David.”
“And I’m in love with your sister,” Seaton said.
Blackthorne shook his head in disbelief. “You are?”
“I have been these past six months,” Seaton replied.
“Oh, David,” Lark said. “Why didn’t you let me know?”
“Because he wasn’t in any hurry to get married,” Blackthorne said sardonically. He quirked a brow and asked his friend, “Why the sudden change of heart?”
“I’ll admit the situation forced my hand,” Seaton said. “Lark and I have had time while we’ve been in this room together to talk—just to talk—about how we feel. Your sister can be very persuasive.”
“Don’t I know it,” Blackthorne muttered.
“As it turns out,” Seaton finished, “I’ll simply be marrying Lark a little sooner than I might have arranged the matter on my own.”
“My sister will recuperate here with my wife as her chaperon,” Blackthorne said. “You will return to London posthaste. At the appropriate time, you will call on me to ask my permission to court Lark. You will become affianced in due time, and will marry at St. George’s in London, with the entire ton in attendance.”
Lark threw herself into her brother’s arms. “Oh, Marcus, thank you!”
Seaton reached out a hand, and Blackthorne took it. He was still in shock, but his wounded heart was somewhat comforted by the knowledge that his friend hadn’t betrayed him, that Fanny had arranged everything. Fanny! He wouldn’t have believed it of her. She must have known him better than he’d known himself. In an amazing twist of fate, her machinations had resulted in his marriage to the girl he’d rescued. As for the falling in love part, he thought maybe that had happened, too. At least, on his side. He was never quite sure what Josie was thinking.
Seaton grasped Blackthorne’s hand in both of his and said, “I’m looking forward to being a part of the family.” He grinned and added, “Especially now that I know it includes your American waif. Speaking of which, where is she?”
“In Ashington, waiting for the tracks to be repaired.”
Seaton frowned. “Really? The train from London arrived at noon.”
“Are you sure?”
“Everyone on the damned thing showed up at the Black Swan wanting something to eat and complaining about the delay overnight in Ashington.”
“And my wife? Did she come looking for a meal?”
“I don’t know. You might want to ask the innkeeper.”
Blackthorne stopped at the door he’d kicked off its hinges and said, “Sorry about the door. I’ll have someone sent up to fix it.”
Then he was gone to find his wife.