Chapter Six #3
He didn’t react at all, but she sensed that her announcement wasn’t a complete surprise. So, her instincts had been correct. There was something between them, though she didn’t know if it was only Amelia who had developed feelings.
Before the earl could say anything, Margaret saw her chance to make a match on her sister’s behalf. “If Lord Lisford travels too far, Amelia will be forced to marry him. Her reputation will be compromised, and she’ll be ruined.”
Lord Castledon held her gaze, as if he knew precisely what she was implying.
“You could help her,” Margaret said quietly. “You said yourself, you need a wife and a mother for your daughter.”
“That wouldn’t be fair to her.”
“And would it have been fair to me?” Margaret countered.
She knew that Lord Castledon’s offer had nothing to do with love or affection and everything to do with keeping his word to his daughter.
At least Amelia had the forthright manner where she dared to confront him.
And whether either of them would admit it, Margaret had seen the spark between them.
There could be something there, if circumstances permitted.
“She needs help, Lord Castledon,” Margaret insisted. “Don’t let her become a victim to the viscount’s schemes.”
The earl said nothing at all, but she’d made her point. Without another word, he climbed into his carriage and disappeared into the night.
Amelia awakened, her mouth feeling as if she’d swallowed a mouthful of fleece. Her head ached, and the world seemed to sway. What had happened? Had she fainted? She couldn’t recall fainting in all her life.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Viscount Lisford seated across from her. She blinked a moment, trying to clear the dream away, but he remained right where her imagination had conjured him. Clearly, she was having an appalling nightmare.
His expression held a blend of relief and terror. “You’re alive. I’m so glad.”
“Was I in danger of dying?” she blurted out. Her voice sounded woozy, not at all like herself.
“No. That wasn’t my intention at all.” He clasped his hands together and glanced outside the window. That was when she realized she was in a carriage.
A carriage that was moving entirely too fast, jostling her against the seat. Which then reminded her that her stomach was also tossing.
“Are you taking me home?” she asked, trying to keep herself from being sick.
He glanced out again, and from his nervousness, she suspected the answer was no.
Her nausea rose up higher, not only from the moving vehicle, but also from fear. “I need you to stop this carriage,” she informed him. “Right now.”
“I—I can’t do that, Miss Andrews.”
“You had better stop it, or I’ll be sick all over your shoes.” Again, her body fought the tossing motion. Had he given her something to make her sleep? Amelia tried to think of when or how.
He had gone white, and as she tried to sit up, the dizziness flowed over her. Her brain was still suffering the effects of whatever illness had struck. “You need to tell me what has happened, Lord Lisford.”
He glanced outside. “I shall, I promise. But we must go a little farther.”
Farther from where? Her eyes widened, and she realized that he had arranged all of this. “Were you trying to kidnap me?”
He wouldn’t meet her gaze, and she realized that yes, that had been his intention. “No, not that,” he said. “I wanted a grand romantic gesture, something that we could tell our children about. We’re eloping together.”
If she had believed he was foolish before, now she was convinced that the man had nothing save cotton batting in his skull. He’d gone utterly mad.
“Let me see if I can understand you,” she said slowly. In her mind, she replayed the events. He’d come to speak with her, offering a glass of lemonade and apologizing profusely for his behavior when he’d stolen a kiss.
After the lemonade, she’d begun to feel odd. He’d taken her arm, escorting her to the ladies’ retiring room, and the next thing she remembered was waking up inside the carriage.
“You gave me something to drink and then brought me here with the intention that we should run away together?”
He looked relieved. “Yes, that’s it exactly. I thought we could go to Scotland and spend some time there after we marry.”
Scotland? Exactly how long had she been unconscious?
Amelia tried to look outside the window, but the motion of the coach made her quickly avert her gaze.
“You forgot an important detail, Lord Lisford,” she said.
He waited for her to continue, and Amelia added, “Normally when a suitor tries a grand romantic gesture like sweeping a woman away to marry her, he asks her first.”
Bewilderment crossed his face. “Well, of course, you were going to say yes. I apologized to you, after all.”
She straightened and forced her stomach to behave itself. He truly believed that, didn’t he? This handsome rake honestly thought that no woman would ever refuse him. How had she ever considered him delicious and the man of her dreams? Right now, he was the man of her nightmares.
“Lord Lisford,” she said calmly. “I ask that you please tell your driver to turn around and take me home. I do not wish to go to Scotland.”
Confusion clouded his face. “Then how are we to marry?”
She wanted to screech at him that she would sooner marry the coachman than him, but she wasn’t entirely certain whether she was safe in his presence. Shouting or making demands might make things worse.
“I believe you, when you say that you wanted a romantic gesture,” she said gently. “But my family will be angry with you. They will not approve of this.”
“They don’t approve of me, I know,” he agreed. “But that is why we should go away together. Once we’re wed, they will have to accept me as your husband.”
She couldn’t believe what he was saying. “My father hasn’t forgotten what you did to Margaret. He won’t allow it to happen a second time.”
The viscount appeared uncomfortable. “In time, he will see that we were meant to be together.”
She gritted her teeth. Did he honestly believe that was true? Exactly how pompous was his opinion of himself?
“How long have we been traveling?” she asked, willing herself to stay calm. There had to be a way out of this.
“Most of the night. We have much farther to go, before we’re safe.”
A frigid chill came over her as she realized the gravity of her situation. If she’d been alone with this man for most of the night, he had well and truly cornered her. Even if she cried off and refused to wed him, her reputation would be in tatters.
For the first time, she let the fear gain a foothold. If she told him no, if she refused him now, he might leave her in the middle of nowhere. She couldn’t survive alone with no money or protection.
Her family would be searching for her; there was no doubt of it.
But even if they found her, the damage would be done.
All of London society would know that she’d been taken by the viscount.
If they married, most would overlook it.
His prediction that it would become a Grand Romantic Gesture could become a reality.
Only she didn’t want to be married to a man who sincerely believed he was irresistible. She had to tread carefully and do whatever she could to ensure that she didn’t end up stranded.
“You put something in my lemonade, didn’t you?” she said.
“Just a sleeping draught.” He had the grace to look guilty at that. “I was afraid you’d say no when I asked you to come away with me.”
Before she could ask anything else, he continued, “I know I offended you that night in the garden. But I was so overcome by your beauty and charms, I acted without thinking.”
The way you did just now, Amelia thought. The man hadn’t bothered to consider what she wanted—he’d acted only to serve his own needs.
She had to appeal to his pride and somehow make him understand that he’d made a terrible mistake.
“This isn’t the sort of wedding a woman wants,” she said. “We should stop for the night somewhere.”
Which would give her family the chance to find her.
“Your father would murder me for this,” Charles remarked. It was the first sensible thing he’d said.
“And that is why we should turn back now. If you can bring me home before he knows I’m gone—”
“It’s too late for that.” He appeared glum, and he added, “We’ll be married just after we cross the border into Scotland.”
Amelia decided it was time to be frank and hope that he would be reasonable. “As I said before, I don’t want to marry you anymore, Lord Lisford.”
“But you did once,” he said. “I was certain of it.”
Before I knew who you really were, Amelia thought. “If you force me into marriage, you’ll get no dowry,” she said. “If you were trying to gain wealth, it will bring you nothing at all.” She asserted her final point. “If you bring me back now, I promise you, we can make amends.”
But the viscount had gone silent, his gaze fixed on the outside. He ignored her pleas, and Amelia realized that she would have to wait until they stopped.
She closed her eyes, praying that someone would rescue her. In her mind, she envisioned Lord Castledon riding hard, intercepting the coach. He would throw open the door to the carriage and pull her into his strong arms. Her fantasy played out, giving her a thread of hope to cling to.
“Would you like to sit beside me?” the viscount offered. “The night air is cold.” She wasn’t certain if it was his attempt to be courteous or whether he intended to accost her.
“If I move, I’ll likely be sick all over you,” Amelia responded. It was partly the truth, but she didn’t want Lord Lisford anywhere near her.
He grimaced, and she closed her eyes again. Though she was frightened, she had to keep her wits together and find a way out of this mess. Thankfully, the viscount had not laid a hand upon her—possibly because she’d struck him hard the last time he’d attempted to kiss her.
She believed this was about money, more than all else. It was the move of a desperately foolish man, not a villain. As she leaned against the side of the coach, she wondered if anyone was coming to save her.
If not, she would simply have to rescue herself.