Chapter Two
H arry had formed a plan. It was devious, perhaps shocking, but needs must.
And after what Emily had told him about Worthington’s visit, he’d have to carry it out this very night.
He stepped down the grassy path that led from the village church, the dawn dew sparkling on his boots.
Inside the church, Reverend Turner was tied to a pew with a length of rope and in his mouth, a rag was preventing him from shouting for help.
Harry swiped his palms together, wishing he hadn’t had to stoop to such depths to wed Lady Jane. He’d spend the rest of his life praying for forgiveness, but he’d also spend the rest of his life with the woman he loved with every beat of his heart.
Quickly, he mounted Silver, his dappled gray mare, and sped back toward Sandford Estate.
The weak morning sun had blushed the sky lilac and pink and to his right, a herd of deer rested under an old oak tree. The creatures barely looked up as he leaped a brook and then circled past the lake.
When he reached the stable yard, he checked that Mason had the carriage ready to go.
“Aye, it’s hooked up and the horses fresh.”
“Good, I thank you…for everything.” Harry looked at the clocktower.
Six-thirty.
“She will be here any moment now.” Harry ran his hand through his hair and straightened his jacket. It was the only one he had and he’d spent an hour brushing it free from dust and straw the evening before.
“Are you sure about this, lad?” Mason asked. “There’ll be no going back.”
“You know how I feel about her. I will never want to go back.”
“His lordship will throw you off his land. You will be banished. That is the very least of the bad things that will happen to you when he finds out.”
“I will be banished with her. That won’t be a bad thing. As long as she is my wife, I will live life as a happy man.” His heart was thudding. He was so close, his plan so near to fruition. “Ah, here she is now.”
Jane, with Emily at her side, came rushing under the arch of the clocktower. Both wore boots, long capes, and bonnets. Jane held a bunch of pink peonies.
A fresh wave of love washed through him. She trusted him, she was here, and they would soon be wed.
“Quickly.” Mason held open the carriage door. “Every moment the Reverend Turner is held captive could well be a year in hell for all of us.”
Harry crossed himself and then steadied Jane as she climbed into the carriage that had been freshly polished for the occasion.
This wasn’t the proper wedding of a nobleman’s daughter to a man of her equal. It was the wedding of lady and a commoner, and a corrupt one at that, but still, once they were wed, no one could do anything about it.
Soon, they arrived at the church, the carriage wheels having rattled through the village. People were stirring, a cockerel crowed, and an escaped goat munched on someone’s vegetable patch. There’d be trouble when that was discovered.
When they arrived at the church, Harry rushed inside. Sweat popped on his brow and his stomach churned with nerves.
“I am sorry, Reverend, please forgive me.” He quickly removed the rag.
“You are a sinful man.” Reverend Turner cleared his throat and frowned up at Harry.
“I will repent, I promise.” He loosened the ropes.
“You will repent as a banished man. I tell you now, his lordship will be furious.”
“I know, which is why I had to do this. I had to keep you here as a captive so that you can tell him that you feared for your life, that you were forced to marry us. I do not wish you to take any blame for what we are about to do. You have always been good to me.”
The reverend sighed, stood, and brushed himself off. “You’d best leave the rope there, then, so I can show his lordship when he shows up at my church with the Hounds of Hell in his temper.”
Harry took a deep breath. “Come in now,” he called.
Jane walked into the church. She’d removed her cape and instantly, the shadows brightened. Her scarlet gown was a ray of sunshine, as was her smile.
Harry locked his fingers together, his body tense with nerves, anticipation, and love. In just a few moments, this amazing, beautiful, strong woman would be his wife.
She was out of his class—always would be—and he’d always be grateful that her heart had opened for his.
Emily and Mason followed behind Jane as witnesses to the event. They would say they had been tricked and had had no inkling a marriage had been about to take place.
“You are the most beautiful bride who has ever graced any aisle in any church,” Harry said, taking Jane’s hand in his.
Her cheeks were a little flushed and her eyes alive with excitement. “We should hurry this along. The village is stirring.”
Reverend Turner cleared his throat.
“Thank you, Reverend,” Harry said. “As short as possible, please.”
With a Bible balanced in his hand, Reverend Turner began. “We are gathered here today to join Harry Cooper and Lady Jane Worthington of Sandford in holy matrimony. Harry and Lady Jane, do you promise to cherish each other always, to honor and sustain each other always, be a sure and steady shoulder in both health and sickness, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to each other in all things until death alone shall part your earthly bodies?”
“I do,” Harry said, gazing into Jane’s eyes and seeing the very depths of her pure soul.
“I do,” she repeated, a smile pulling on her lips and balling her cheeks. “I do, I will… Yes, always.” She threw her arms around his neck, the peonies falling to the floor. “You are the one man for whom my heart beats, today and always.”
He set his lips over hers, a hard press that he hoped showed her he’d never leave her and that he’d always be there for her.
Emily clapped and gave a small whoop .
Mason smacked him on the shoulder. “Congratulations to you both.”
Harry reluctantly pulled away despite the fact that he’d waited for so long to hold Jane in his arms as his wife. “Thank you, Reverend, for everything.”
“You are welcome, but the story goes from this moment until my last breath that I did it under duress. I am very content with my life here.”
“No one will dispute that story.” Harry swung his gaze to Mason and Emily.
“As clear as day”—Mason nodded at the rope—“I saw you bound and threatened. You feared for your life.”
Emily nodded. “You had no choice.” She turned to Jane. “My lady, you should go. His lordship will be waking—your cousin too—and when they find out you are not there…”
“I know.” Jane reached for Emily’s hand. “And I thank you, dear, sweet friend. I will think of you always.”
Emily let out a small whimper and a tear trickled down her cheek.
Jane pulled her maid into a tight hug.
Harry fell a little bit more for her. His wife was a kind and caring woman who really saw and cherished people. Her status and wealth growing up had not dulled any edges of her gentle and loving nature. “My love,” he said, “we have little time to waste.”
“I know.” Jane stepped into his arms. “Where are we going?”
“I will tell you in due course.” He nodded at Mason and Emily. The less they knew, the better it was for them.
The sun was rising over the churchyard and small bugs rose above the gravestones, darting this way and that. Overhead, the swallows were swooping, looking for their breakfast.
“I have booked us a room at the inn in Farnham,” Harry said, steering Jane toward an old shepherd track. “It will take us a few hours to walk there, but that will be good distance between us and your father and with luck, we will not be seen.”
“I could walk for an eternity at your side.” She slipped her small hand into his.
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I have a suitcase there. My possessions are modest, but it is enough for us to head west, into Wales, and there, I will find work, provide a roof over our heads, and put food on the table.”
“That is all we need to be happy.”
“Are you sure you can live without your fancy gowns, your jewels, your afternoon tea in china cups and cakes brought to you on silver trays?”
She laughed, a lovely, high-pitched sound. “I understand enough about life to know what makes me happy…and that is you, dear husband.”
The walk was long and as midday came, the sun had sweat popping on Harry’s brow. He was grateful when the inn came into view. It was on the edge of the village; they’d only have to walk past a couple of farms and a watermill to reach it. Hopefully, they wouldn’t attract any attention.
“Mrs. Beaton,” Harry called when he found no one at the bar.
“Aye, who is there?” The woman came through an open door wiping her hands on a towel. Her gray hair was pinned high and she wore bright-red lipstick and had drawn a mole above her right lip. “Ah, you have a room booked, don’t you, lad?” She glanced at the clock. “It is early. Most patrons arrive later in the day.”
“We will be heading away at nightfall,” he explained. “It is the day, we… I need it for.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Most unusual.”
“But my money is not. It is legal tender.” He placed a coin on the shiny bar.
“Fair enough.” She shrugged and dropped the money into a purse around her waist. “It’s the room at the top of the stairs, back of the house. Door is over there.”
Harry looked to where she’d gestured. Behind a table was a small, latched door set into the wall. “And the bag I dropped off yesterday it is—”
“No one has tampered with it. I run a reputable business.” She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth.
“Thank you, and sorry, I—”
“No funny business, okay.” She waggled a finger at him. “And I don’t serve food for another hour.”
He nodded as she bustled back through the door she’d come through.
Quickly, he stuck his head outside. “Jane, this way.”
She hurried along, head ducked, and came into the cool of the inn. Without a word, they ascended the steep, narrow staircase and arrived at their room.
Harry shut the door, slung the bolt, and blew out a breath. Had they really gotten away with his daring plan?
Silence filled the air. He could hear his pulse in his ears. He turned to Jane, who stood in the middle of the low-ceilinged room with her hands clasped. She nibbled on her bottom lip and glanced out of the window at the rolling hills beyond.
He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry and a sense of anticipation winding up his spine. This was the first time they’d truly been alone, no chance of interruption. Not only that, she was his wife . They had God’s blessing and could finally be as one.
“We will leave when darkness falls,” he said, stepping up to her. “But until then, we have one final matter to address.”
“We do?” She looked up at him, her long lashes fluttering. Her lips were damp—she’d just licked them.
“Yes, this marriage needs consummating if it is to be truly legal.”
Her breath hitched and she nodded.
“Are you nervous?” He didn’t want her to be. He wanted her to feel safe and treasured.
“I know you will guide me.”
He reached for the top button on her gown, his fingers skimming the warm flesh of the rise of her breast. “I will make it good for you, so good.”
He kissed her as his fingers worked, loosening her gown. He wanted to see her utterly naked, finally, after all of this time.
When he reached the last button, he pulled back and exposed her breasts. Her small nipples were tight and pointed and her breaths were coming quickly.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured. He pushed at her gown until it pooled at her feet.
“Harry.” She tugged at his jacket, shoving it over his shoulders.
He let it fall to the floor, barely noticing it land. He was utterly mesmerized by his wife’s curves, her milky-white skin, the flush of desire on her cheeks.
His cock hardened, pressing against his pants, and quickly, he shucked off his shirt and removed his boots. When he straightened, she’d moved to the bed and was lying on the pale-green coverlets.
“Do you know what I want the most?” she asked.
“Tell me and it is yours.” He stepped out of his pants and gripped his hard cock. He could come just from the excitement of what was going to happen.
“I want that feeling, that climax of sensation, when we do it the first time. I have heard two stories, one that it is nothing but pain for a woman and another that it is exquisite pleasure, like when you touch me with your fingers or your tongue… I want the second.”
“Then that is what you will have.” He crawled over her and settled between her legs. “Pleasure is what our bodies were made for.”
She giggled and stroked his hair. “I don’t think that is in the Bible, but I’m happy to believe it in this moment.”
“You should.” He kissed her neck, inhaling the lavender scent of her skin, and roamed his palm over her body. Surely, there had never been a woman more perfect as his wife.
When his touch dipped to her pussy, he stroked through her velvety folds. She was wet, but not wet enough, not if he didn’t want to cause her pain.
“Oh, Harry…my love…” She closed her eyes and canted her hips as though wanting more of his touch.
He gave it, dipping into her entrance and then swirling around her sensitive, little nub.
She moaned and arched her back. She was always so responsive, so in tune with him.
His cock throbbed and his belly tightened, but he summoned willpower and continued to prepare her for his entry. He wanted her to be drunk with desire, craving him more than fearing him, as desperate for the coupling as he was.