Chapter Sixteen
A nthony waited for Lissa’s temper to erupt, but instead she looked blankly at him. “Where is Gretna Green?”
Ballocks . He’d forgotten she wouldn’t know. She wasn’t raised in England. She hadn’t even known that at twenty-one she didn’t need her guardian’s permission to marry. “It’s in Scotland, just over the border. It is not far from my parents’ estate and mine.”
“I don’t understand why going to Scotland will save me. Please explain.”
As he studied her, it was clear to him that even if he hadn’t fallen in love with her, he would still make the sacrifice for her. He just hoped she wouldn’t hate him for long. “Gretna Green is the place couples go to get married to go against their parents’ wishes or to avoid the reading of the banns.”
Her mouth opened and closed before opening again to speak. “Married? I can’t. I just told you I can’t. You agreed I can’t.”
Though he knew the odds were not in his favor, he had had the hope that she might at least consider him. “And so I did, because I know you well. I admit that marriage to me would only protect you somewhat, as I am but a baron. However, my father is the Duke of Roxburgh and has much sway.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Would he not help me simply because you are his son and I am a friend?”
His gut reacted to her argument, but he tried to keep his hurt at bay. “No. My father, unlike myself, is a traditionalist. He believes in the hierarchy of society. Since you are French and a woman of the gentry, he would feel no responsibility. That you have traveled alone with me and not only caused a peer to bleed, but stole, would have my father calling the magistrate himself.”
She looked away, obviously not happy with him. He had no doubt she searched for other solutions to her dilemma. “Would he help you if I were your mistress in truth?”
Again his stomach tightened as if punched. “No. He is faithful to my mother and does not believe a man needs a mistress if he chooses his wife wisely.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Is there not another country I could go to? I cannot return to France. As you know, my activities in the past there would have me hanged.”
He could listen to no more excuses. He turned her face toward him. “Lissa, would it really be such a terrible life being married to me?”
She blinked as if she’d not thought about the fact it would be him, which did ease him a bit. “No, I suppose it would not be terrible, but I would still be married. You would look at me differently, expect me to conform to what a baroness would do. Truly, can you see me hosting a dinner party at your estate?”
He chuckled, an image appearing in his head of her in male clothing sitting at the other end of the table opposite him with a dozen fancy-dressed guests between them. “No, I can’t, but I wouldn’t expect you to act the baroness any more than I act the baron.”
She cocked her head, finally looking into his eyes thoughtfully. “Would you really do this for me? You told me you would never marry.”
In that moment, he almost couldn’t keep his feelings at bay, but he swallowed them down hard. “I would do this for you.” He couldn’t bring himself to say it was because they were friends.
She rolled her lips in, her resistance still in place.
Cupping her chin, he stared into her eyes. “I cannot bear the thought of you in Newgate, buried deep in a squalid chamber with fifteen or so other women, starving or sick with disease. Or worse, trading your charms with a dirty turnkey just to eat. You deserve more.”
She looked down, clearly hiding something. Finally, she met his gaze again. “Could I continue to aid you in your investigations?”
Hope surged through him. “If that is what you’d like to do.”
“And would you take care of Grand-maman?”
That she was possibly capitulating had his heart racing. “Of course.”
She leaned closer, her mouth almost touching his. “And can we get a sling?” Her breath across his lips held his attention before her words registered.
The spike of desire that shot through him would not be denied, and he crushed her to him, taking her lips, demanding she submit.
But Lissa never submitted. Instead, her tongue dove into his mouth, fighting for dominance, even as he felt her hand on his growing erection.
With the need of a dying man for his last breath, he threw off the blanket and pulled her over to sit on his lap facing him, happy to allow her to have her way with him.
She didn’t release his mouth, but did release him from his pantaloons beneath her. She finally broke their kiss and rose on her knees to position herself above him.
He expected her to take him inside her, but she remained there looking at him, even as the coach jostled them.
His patience having evaporated with her kiss, he pulled her neckline down to free a hard nipple.
She yanked his head up, surprising him.
“You did not answer my question, mon amour .”
He tried to remember what she asked, but he couldn’t think with her bare, taut peak just inches away.
“Do you promise to get me a sling?”
“By Jove, yes!”
As soon as he agreed, she came down upon him in one hard thrust, almost sending him into his release. He grabbed her waist to keep her from moving as he struggled to stay in control, but the coach rocked them as it bounced along, his driver understanding his need to be away.
She rubbed herself against him even though she didn’t lift, and he groaned with his need to let go. Desperate, he sucked on her nipple, teasing it with his teeth, wanting her as ready as he was. If he could just hold on…
His decision was taken from him as the coach hit a particularly deep hole, jolting them both, breaking his tenuous control.
Shouting his release, he heard it echoed by Lissa as she arched hard against him, riding him like a wild horse, matching his fever with her own.
When he was spent, she fell forward onto him, and he wrapped his arms around her even as they hit yet another large hole.
“Oh.” Her exclamation was followed by her lifting from him, and he loosened his arms.
He didn’t mind, as he completely understood how sensitive it was for her.
She pivoted her body and flopped onto the seat next to him.
He let his head fall back on the seat and turned to look at her. “So your answer is yes?”
Her eyes remained closed as she relaxed into the cushions. She didn’t say anything, but her nod had joy filling him. Now, he just had one last monumental task to complete before he could be truly happy—help her see that she loved him.
Doubt crept into his head, but he refused to listen. Surely, over time, she would care for him like he did her.
Yet even as he rebuttoned his pantaloons, the harsh reality of what they were about to do and all the ramifications set in. Lifting the blanket from the coach floor, he spread it over them, already growing cold. His first order of business was to marry her and keep her safe. He would worry about the rest after he’d accomplished that much.
The coach slowed, and he looked out at the gray day to see them pulling into an inn. He had no doubt that either Leighhall followed them himself or his butler, if not others under his employ. A plan took shape even as his coachman opened the door.
Turning to Lissa, he found her asleep and reluctantly woke her. “We’re at an inn.”
She blinked a few times before gathering the blanket about her. He helped her down then gave instructions to his coachman to continue on to Bellamore without them once he and the horses had rested.
After entering the inn, he ordered hot soup in a private dining room.
Lissa clutched the blanket tight about her, despite the warmth of the room. But once the food arrived, she threw it back and repositioned her dress to hide her assets. “I wouldn’t want anyone to have a bad impression of your betrothed.” She grimaced as if being betrothed was the worst possible fate, besides prison. “I’d rather be in a warm pair of trousers and greatcoat.”
Of course! He should have thought of that. He leaned in and kissed her. “And you will.”
“I will?” She frowned at him, clearly puzzled by his exuberance.
“My coach will continue on to my estate, while we take horses to Gretna Green. Stay here and eat your fill.” He stood, kissing her one more time, lingering probably longer than was prudent. He pulled himself away and headed out to talk to the innkeeper.
It didn’t take long to get the required clothes Lissa needed, along with two good horses. He just wished it wasn’t so cold, but the greatcoat would keep her warm and they would stop at another inn for the night. Striding back into the private dining room, he found all the food gone and Lissa pacing.
“What is it?”
She stopped, relief obvious in her face. “I wasn’t sure if something had happened to you. You were gone a long time, and this dress makes it unacceptable to go out alone looking for you. Did you find me some clothes?”
“I did.” He handed over the pile.
“It will feel good to move freely again.” She turned her back. “I will need your assistance once more, my handsome lady’s maid.”
He forced himself to simply undo the buttons and step away. Knowing they needed to make good time, he turned his back as she dressed. If he watched, he had no doubt he would take her again.
“I’m ready.”
He turned to find the youth he’d always known. Yet he knew well the woman beneath the clothing, and he would do anything to keep her safe.
She moved to her discarded clothing and expertly folded everything within the red dress, before tying it into a sack.
“The letters?” He hoped they weren’t crushed in her clothing.
She patted the pocket of the waistcoat and the greatcoat. “All here, though folded.”
“Do you need me to take some?”
She shook her head. “No. If we’re caught, I don’t want you to have any, so you can claim you don’t know.”
Her response eased his heart. That she cared enough about him to want to protect him had hope building. “I promise you, we will not be caught.”
“You cannot promise that, Anthony. You can only promise to try to keep us free.”
That had been a phrase he used with her many times in France, when she promised she knew the area or that they wouldn’t be caught. “You are correct.” He gestured and allowed her to precede him out.
Once they were on the road, he set a brisk pace, confident in Lissa’s ability to keep it up. Even so, by time they stopped at an inn for the night, she looked tired. The room they shared was sparse and chilly, so they kept their clothes on except for their outerwear, and he fell asleep with her in his arms.
In the morning, he insisted she drink two cups of warm cocoa, despite her readiness to leave. It was as if now that they had a plan, she couldn’t wait to execute it. He hoped she wouldn’t regret it later.
Luckily, the clouds had dissipated after a cold, rainy night, and the sun made it feel a little warmer. After a couple of hours, they stopped on the side of the road to eat some of their provisions.
“Oh no!”
At Lissa’s exclamation, he jumped up from the log he’d been sitting on while she tended to her needs in the woods. “Lissa!”
She tramped through the forest like a charging sheep. “I’m supposed to be back at school today.”
He’d completely forgotten. Her limitations in England were far stricter than when they were in France. “You won’t be, but at least you’ll return married, which will help a bit.”
She scowled at him as she waved her hand. “It’s not me I’m concerned about. It’s Eleanor. She will have to face the duchess alone. She is not good at lying, so she will tell Lady Northwick that I went to visit my grandmother and haven’t returned. Then they will send someone to my grandmother.”
“If that occurs, it will delay their searching for you anywhere else and give us time to go back and explain.”
“Yes, I suppose. But I’m concerned about Eleanor. She will worry. She worries about everyone. She’s like a mother hen with her chickens.”
He swallowed the last bite of scone and walked his horse closer to hers. “I will have a letter sent to the duchess and Lady Eleanor. You can write whatever you wish to appease everyone’s concerns.”
She looked askance at him. “Thank you. Though I don’t think I’ll be able to appease anyone, but then again, that was never my intention.” She winked at him before mounting up.
He settled onto his own horse, and they continued north.
Arriving in Gretna Green well after sunset, he found them a room at a decent inn and left Lissa to wash up.
Striding toward the blacksmith shop, the place he was told he could get married, he frowned. The building was dark—as well it should be, since the blacksmith had finished his work for the day hours ago. Still, Anthony knocked on the door. When no one answered, he started to head back toward the inn, nervous that they would need to wait yet another night.
“Looking to get married, lad?” An old man across the road stood outside a croft smoking his pipe.
Anthony changed his path and walked toward the man. “Yes, I was. Will the blacksmith marry us this evening?”
The old man studied him from beneath bushy eyebrows. “Aye, for a price.”
“I’d be happy to pay the price. Can you tell me where I can find him?”
“I can do better. You go fetch your lass, and I’ll have Mungan meet you over there.” He gestured with his pipe toward the blacksmith’s place.
“Thank you, sir. I am much obliged.”
The old man chuckled. “Any sassenach that comes to our village at this time of night to get married is bound to be besotted. I’m just helping love along.”
Anthony smiled. “That I am.” Giving the man a short bow, he strode toward the inn.
As he stepped into their room, he found Lissa trying to button the back of her dress. “Here, let me.” He stepped up behind her and buttoned the red, very wrinkled dress up to her neck.
She turned around, a self-deprecating smile on her lips. “It’s not the height of fashion, nor in good condition, but I thought it better than the trousers.”
He spoke without thinking. “I’m not marrying your clothes. I’m marrying you. I will buy you whatever clothing you wish once we’re married.”
Her smile faltered. “I believe you already bought me, as your mistress, much clothing, like this dress.”
He did not want her as his mistress. He never had. She was his friend and now his betrothed. He loved her. He didn’t wish her to think of herself in such terms. “True, but only for a part you played in an investigation, much like when you dress as a young man. It does not mean you are one.” He held his arm out toward the door, anxious for her to be his. “The blacksmith is even now getting ready for us. Are you ready?”
She took a deep breath and nodded, but didn’t say anything as she walked past him.
He opened the door for her, and they descended the stairs to the main floor. The quiet hum of conversation greeted them as they passed by the main dining area and walked outside into the moonlit road.
“It’s so quiet.” Lissa’s words were barely above a whisper.
“Most of the villagers are home after their toils of the day. I’m sure come morning, there will be plenty of activity here.”
They approached the blacksmith’s, and Anthony could see the old man had been true to his word, as light shone from within. He stopped before the door under the single lantern and faced his soon-to-be wife, taking her hands in his. “Lissa, I know that you are unsure about this step. I promise you, I will do all in my power to care for you and protect you. I don’t ever want you to regret marrying me.”
Her dark gaze roamed his face. “Long ago, what seems like a lifetime, I thought to marry Etienne. It never happened. The war took him and life became survival. You arrived and became my friend. So much has changed. What that young woman dreamed for then is far different than what I look for from life now. I do know that I can trust you, and that’s why I will take this step with you.”
The tension in his chest lessened and he kissed her, the woman he loved, the woman he respected, the woman he’d never let go.
When they parted, she smiled at him.
Feeling as if they’d already said their vows, he opened the door and took her inside.
*
The next morning, Anthony woke and stretched before reaching out for his wife. The ceremony had been brief, the blacksmith presiding with his wife and the old man from the street present to bear witness. Anthony and Lissa returned to the inn for dinner and consummated their marriage not once, not twice, but three times.
Even with his eyes closed, he smiled. He had a wife. And such a lovely, passionate, and clever one at that.
When his hand found nothing but cold linens, he opened his eyes.
Lissa, in only the shirt from her male clothing, sat at the small table in the warm room, poring over the letters she’d taken from Leighhall.
He sat up, the covers falling to his waist. “Do you not wish to give your new husband a kiss? I promise you can kiss me wherever you wish.”
She shook her head and didn’t look at him.
Not necessarily insulted but definitely deflated, he threw the covers off and strode naked to see what had her so engrossed. Standing next to her, he could see she had organized the letters into piles on the small table. “What have you discovered?”
She rolled her lips in, holding a letter in her hand as if deciding where it should go. Finally, she set it on her lap, released her lips, and looked up at him. “I think the regent wants to poison the king.”
“ What? ” The accusation was regicide and beyond comprehension.
She pointed to one pile. “These are all questions being asked about when and what the king eats and who is with him.” She moved her hand to another pile. “These ask about different poisons and how long they take to kill someone.” She moved her hand again. “These are letters requesting the names of people who have the skills to enter buildings without detection, and these here are promising gratitude in the forms of weapons and favors.”
His stomach felt as if it were filled with lead shot. Hoping she didn’t understand the connection between the correspondence, since it was only one-sided, letters received by Leighhall, he pointed to the letter in her lap. “What is that one?”
She held it up for him to take without looking.
Dread filled him as he read a complete plan to poison the king with the help of an agent that Leighhall would hire on behalf of the regent. Not only was his wife in danger, but so was he, and possibly anyone they knew. Leighhall undoubtedly knew they had these letters and would stop at nothing to get them back.
The king!
Never mind their own danger, when was the poison to be fed to the king? This was far more serious than even Anthony had suspected. He’d unknowingly dragged Lissa into a plot against the king’s life. “We must leave at once.”
“I know.” She sounded disappointed, and her shoulders slumped forward as she methodically began to gather the piles of letters together.
Despite the need to hurry, he knelt beside her and laid his hand on her arm. “Tell me what is wrong.”
She cocked her head, and her gaze softened. “I had hoped, just for a day, that we could live as a simple couple enjoying each other and celebrating our marriage.” Her gaze drifted. “But I think safety, security, and happiness is not my fate.”
His heart rebelled at such ideas. With his hand, he gently coaxed her to look at him. “I do not agree with you on your fate. I promise you.” He held his hand up as she opened her mouth to no doubt caution him against promising. “I promise you that when all is resolved, we shall return to this very inn and spend a day or two alone as simple folk.”
Her attempt at a smile was sad at best and scratched at his heart. “I would enjoy that.” She held his gaze for a long moment before returning her attention to the table and slipping her arm from beneath his hand.
He was quite sure she didn’t believe he could keep that promise, but he would. Rising, he walked to the washstand, rearranging his plans based on the new information.
He dressed in silence, the weight of their circumstances and that of the country filling his head. He had no doubt Lissa pondered the situation as well, and he could only wonder about what her thoughts were. He hoped none of them included fleeing back to France.
When they gathered their few belongings, they left the room and exited the inn. To any passersby, they appeared to be two brothers, and in no time, they were headed out of the village, at which point he urged his mount into a gallop.
After a while, he eased up on the pace, not wanting to harm the horses, though in his mind, he had already arrived at his father’s estate and was organizing what he would say.
Lissa rode beside him, watching the edges of the road as she usually did, always alert to danger.
He counted himself fortunate yet again that he had made her his wife. No other woman had her talents or uniqueness. He would never force her to change. “We should be there in another hour. Do you need to rest?”
She shook her head. “You never told me about your estate. Is it very large?”
Of course, she would expect them to go home. “Bellamore will have to wait. We go to Narborough Park, my father’s estate.”
She pulled up on the reins so fast that he was a full length ahead before he realized she’d stopped. Turning his horse around, he frowned at her. “What is it?”
“I can’t meet your parents.”
Befuddled, he brought his mount forward so they faced each other. “Of course you can. You’re my wife.”
She cocked her head, looking at him as if he should be in Bedlam. “Do I look like a baroness?” She gestured to her trousers.
“No. But won’t that be the fun of it?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Anthony, do not tell me you want your parents’ first impression of me to be this.” Again she gestured to her clothing. “Your father is a duke.”
Ballocks . He hadn’t thought of the long-term results of their showing up dirty from the road and looking as they did. “It can’t be helped. Now that we know what is afoot, we cannot wait.”
Her nose twitched. “This is not good. They will never believe I am worthy of you.”
“It’s not for them to determine your worth. You determine it. In my eyes, you are worthy of a true baron, not a man who eschews his title to roam about the country investigating people.”
She sighed, looking away. “You do not understand.”
He was sure he did. She wished to look her best for his parents, but she needed to understand that was all it was. “Then help me understand.”
Her gaze came back to his, and it sparkled with unshed tears. “They will know me for what I am.” She shook her head at him. “I am not worthy of you. I am not from landed gentry. Grand-maman lied to you and Captain Blackmore. That farmhouse where we lived in France was not where we moved to after the mansion was burned. It was the house I grew up in, and my mother before me. I am no more than the child of a farmer and a lady’s maid.”
Stunned, he stared at her. He always knew Madame Fontaine was a wily woman, so it did not surprise him that she thought to make the most of having saved the captain’s life, but for Lissa to believe that her birth made a difference stymied him. She thought of herself as “no more than”? But she was much more. He needed her to understand it didn’t matter to him.
No, it wasn’t him she truly worried about. It was his parents. Pure happiness filled him, and he grinned at her.
“Are you laughing at me?”
She was so incredulous that he let his mirth out, laughing, even as he shook his head. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at everyone’s assumptions.” He cupped her cheek and gazed into her dark brown eyes. “Lissa, my father, the Duke of Roxburgh, married my mother, a shopkeeper.”