Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
The door clicked closed behind Charlotte, and with it, any pretense of Eugene’s control slipped away.
“Why was the countess here?” Eugene’s face only inches from hers, his face once again a distressing shade of purply red. Her lashes fluttered nervously as she attempted to back away.
“She came to…” But words failed her. If she told Eugene that she’d come to warn Priscilla about the viscount, then Eugene would know she’d been courting behind his back. Then again, he might already. He said he’d overheard…how much did he know?
“What?” His sharp voice cut into her as he shook her, his hand still clenched around her upper arm.
“She came to tell me that Clara is courting.” A lie. She knew it and so did he.
His lip curled back from his teeth and quick as a snake, his hand struck her cheek.
Pain seared across her skin as she cried out, her own palm covering the spot where the blow had landed.
“Enough from you,” Eugene might have been yelling, her head reverberated too much to know.
“I’ve had enough of your falsehoods and deceptions.
You’ll marry me without further delay. Your impertinence has gone too far and I’m done being patient.
I am the earl and head of this house and you’ll do as I say. ”
Patient? This is what he considered patient?
“But this time next week you’ll consent to be my wife or I’ll toss you and your mother out on the street.”
Abruptly, he let go of her arm, and stalked up the stairs, all the while continuing his tirade. She distinctly heard him say. “I hate what you make me do.” Before he disappeared up the stairs.
She stood there, her hand still on her cheek as her mother appeared. “Oh darling,” she cried, racing down the steps. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she winced, the heat from her cheek, seeping through her fingers.
“Are you certain,” her mother asked, inspecting her face. She tilted her chin up, looking at the skin. “I don’t think you’ll bruise.”
All the same, tears pricked at her eyes. Would he follow through and toss her out? Good. Would they have access to enough funds to secure lodging? Her head bent forward as she attempted to do the math, but her mind just didn’t seem to work properly.
What life would they have until she could access the full dowry? Would there be enough funds for basic necessities? And how would she find a husband? She’d risk it all to never look at Eugene again.
The front door opened and Charlotte appeared again. “Priscilla?”
She spun, crossing the entry as she opened her arms to her friend. Surely Charlotte would know what to do.
Charlotte wrapped her in a hug. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I just…” A single tear slipped from her eyes.
Her mother joined them, wrapping them both in her arms. “We’ll find a way out of this,” she whispered. Was she consoling Priscilla or herself?
A tap sounded from the street and Priscilla lifted her head to see what had made the sound. As she glanced at Charlotte’s carriage, her gaze met Wyatt’s, his cane tapping the side of the carriage. Her heart jumped up into her throat.
Instantly, her body responded to him, a yearning to step into his arms filling her. But she tamped it back. He was not what he seemed.
“Get some air with Charlotte,” her mother whispered. “Come in through the kitchen when you return. If Eugene asks, I’ll tell him you’ve gone to bed with a megrim.”
Before Priscilla could even answer, Charlotte let her go and then quickly grabbed her hand, pulling her out the door. “Thank goodness your mother suggested you come with me. I have more to tell you and so does Wyatt. You should hear him out…”
But Priscilla stopped listening as Wyatt stepped up and took her other hand.
More tears filled her eyes as his gaze met hers. Why was she so emotional now? Was it what had just happened with Eugene? What she’d learned about Wyatt?
Yesterday she’d been so certain she’d found the right path, and now that future was slipping away.
“Lord Ware.” Her bare fingers brushed against his gloved hand as she realized she wore neither hat nor gloves.
Charlotte waved and the footman snapped to attention, opening the door. Lord Ware handed her in and then reached his hand back to Priscilla.
She hesitated for a moment. “I don’t…”
He stepped closer. “Lady Westmoreland will be with us. Please. There is something I need to tell you.”
Slowly, she placed her hand in his, tendrils of energy curling through her even now at his touch.
He handed her into the carriage and climbed in behind her, snapping the door shut. She sat next to Charlotte as he settled across from them on the rear-facing seat.
Her fingers twisted together as the carriage started forward. Silence filled the interior. She closed her eyes, letting her chin fall to her chest. What might Wyatt possibly say that would undo the damage done this afternoon?
But they hadn’t moved for more than a minute when the vehicle stopped again. She snapped her chin up again. “Why did we stop?”
“I fancy some air,” Charlotte murmured before she leaned closer and added. “And I swear I am done meddling in my friend’s romances.”
“Romances?” she said as Charlotte climbed from the carriage once again.
Wyatt cleared his throat. Her gaze fluttered to his before she looked away again.
“Priscilla, are you all right?”
Her fingers lifted up to her cheek. “I’m fine.”
He moved over to sit next to her, placing an arm across the back of the seat just above her shoulders. Then, his other hand tipped her chin, studying her offended cheek. “I think I shall kill him slowly.”
That made her smile. A little. “That’s not what I wish to discuss.”
“I’m not a thief, I swear it.”
She looked up at him, surprised he knew what she’d been about to say, as his dark eyes imploring her. “Charlotte said—”
“Charlotte saw part of my activities. I’m not trying to steal from people. I’m trying to capture criminals.”
All at once she realized.
The Bushy Hero.
His partner.
She gasped. “You and Ralph?”
He gave a wincing nod. “I couldn’t tell you.”
“Why not?” The words burst from her mouth before she could stop them.
And some part of her swooned like a maiden in a fairytale. Perhaps he could rescue her. Then again, he’d kept the truth from her and that wasn’t heroic at all.
“Because,” he sighed, averting his gaze this time. “It’s not exactly husbandly behavior, risking your life every night, now is it? Nor is it technically legal. And…” He drifted off, looking away.
“Will you continue to put yourself at risk like this after we’re wed?”
“I see no reason to quit.”
She stared at him, her eyes narrowing and her heart twisting in her chest. Why did her silly heart wish he’d offered to stop because he was worried for her?
“You understand that with the position my mother and I were left in, I find this behavior worrisome. If something happened to you before we created an heir, what would happen to your title?”
He frowned. “I see your point. Though I’d like to add that my strength is an asset.”
Her mouth dried as she stared at his physique. It most certainly was. “You’re right. But I saw your limp when we first met. It’s dangerous and that makes you ill-suited to the role of husband.”
“Someone has to protect the people of London—”
“Yes, but why you?” She supposed it was a relief that he wasn’t a thief. She could still wed him, trust him with her father’s inheritance. But something in her ached to know why he’d kept this secret. Which was silly.
He pointed to his scar. “I had retribution on my mind, I suppose.”
Her eyes widened as she understood. Mostly. But that didn’t change the decision she needed to make. Her fanciful daydreams of a hero needed to be set aside for this match to work. “I can’t marry a man who takes so much risk. Not if I’m truly trying to make a better future.”
“Would you consider a temporary truce? I’ll stop until such time as a male heir is born? Then we can both live our lives as we see fit?”
The idea sat like lead in her stomach, but there was no logical reason to disagree and a compelling one to accept the turn. Eugene waited on the other side of the square. “I accept.”
“Good.”
“But I do have one more question.” Her hands twisted together. “Is there anything else you haven’t told me? Anything important that I should know before we’ve wed?”
* * *
Where did he begin?
My father never loved me. I was a disappointment until the day he died.
My fiancée left me because she realized what you haven’t. I’m unlovable.
“No. That’s my only secret. Well, that and Ralph, but you know that one already.”
She nodded. “I do.” Turned away from him, her cheek glowed bright pink even in the shadowy darkness of the carriage.
He planned to make Eugene pay for that. There wasn’t much he considered himself good at, but breaking noses was one of his few skills, and Eugene would understand that one before this was all done.
“If Charlotte was incorrect, then there is no reason for us not to proceed.”
Something in her tone made him die a little inside. She sounded so…cold. He’d lost her already, hadn’t he? The heat from her kisses last night had already dissipated and, once again, it was his fault.
He reached out a hand to touch hers. She pulled away, shrinking away from him.
He’d done it already. He’d lost any affection for him before they’d even wed.
His teeth clenched together. He should have been more honest. She’d been open with him, until now and it had made him feel…
He drew in a deep breath as he considered the emotions, the connection, he’d developed with her. “Priscilla.”
She shook her head. “Once you have the license, send word to my mother and we’ll wed.”
He gave a tentative nod. “All right.”
“I just want to make one more addendum clear. My mother, she needs to come stay with us until I can secure her own lodging.”
“Of course,” he said. “It wasn’t even a question.”
Her shoulders slumped then, a tear sliding down her cheek. He knew she was angry with him. Hell, he didn’t blame her.
But as his arm slid down from the back of the bench to her shoulders, he pulled her closer, settling her against his chest.
She melted into him.
Dipping his head down, he rested his cheek on top of her head. “Say the word and we’ll leave now. You, me, your mother. We’ll go to Scotland.”
Her head tilted up, looking at him. “You’d do that?”
“To keep you safe?” He cupped her cheek, staring down into the warm brown of her eyes. “I’d do anything.”
Her eyes widened as her lips softly parted. “Thank you.”
He slowly lowered his mouth to hers, her soft, yielding lips clinging to his as he kissed her. He had to find a way to open himself to this woman.
He couldn’t lose her now that he had her here in his arms.
Her hand came to his chest, but rather than push him away, her fingers slid just under the lapels of his coat, her fingertips digging into the hard muscle under his shirt.
The kiss lingered, lengthened, and in that moment, he knew there was still a chance to win her affection.
As soon as he could, he’d share the intimate details of his past. He’d like to tell her now but he should get her inside and get himself to the archbishop.
He’d get that license and make certain Eugene could never touch her again.