Chapter 8
“Darcy—of all people—wants us to get married?” I stared at Wickham as if he’d grown an extra eyeball on his forehead. “I don’t even know him. What a lunatic.”
“That was my initial response,” Wickham spoke quietly.
“He also offered me a substantial sum of money. He says that if I ran off because I love you and had plenty of funds, the police would have no reason to suspect either of us. It’s fairly well known that I owed Alex some money.
I can’t drag you into being accused of murder”
“Murder.” Though it seemed like a stretch, I realized it might not look the best for me or my family. “I can’t see what motive they think we would’ve had.”
“Of course not—neither of us would ever dream of such a thing.” Wickham still hadn’t said he found Darcy’s plan absurd.
My head spun, and my vision tunneled. “Wait a minute. You told him you’d give him your answer tomorrow.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Wickham nodded, staring off at nothing in particular.
“But, surely you don’t think . . . ?” I wasn’t sure if I was a little giddy or wanted to throw up. The idea of eloping was so . . . so . . . stupid. Well, and super romantic. I kind of loved it.
“Perhaps I can do far worse things than marry the most beautiful, spontaneous, down-to-earth woman I’ve ever met. And if it prevents murder accusations . . .” He did that magic trick where he brushed my cheek with his fingertips again.
This guy—what on earth was I supposed to do with him? Now, I was in a serious predicament. That was pretty close to a marriage proposal.
Yes, I was romantic, spontaneous, and I had a tendency to be impulsive. But I wasn’t a fool. “Did he offer you an awful lot of money? Not that that would be a reason to marry someone. Sorry, I have to ask.”
Wickham looked wounded, and my gut told me to proceed with caution.
“He did. And obviously, this might not be a real marriage. Since I borrowed a significant amount of money from Alex to pay some personal debts so I would be free to go on tour with the band. Alex has money—mostly inherited—and was fine lending it to me if I paid interest.”
I stared out the colonial window. Golden sunlight danced on the snowy surfaces wherever it broke past cool-blue shadows. Of all the situations I’d expected to find myself in, this was not one of them. “You certainly are an adventure, Wickham. I don’t know what to make of all this.”
“Well, I hope it doesn’t make you dislike Darcy, but he wants to pad my bank account to make me look innocent.
A lot of my ticket sales are in cash, so it wouldn’t be too strange for me to have a bunch of cash from the New Year’s Eve performance.
It wouldn’t be too strange for me to deposit quite a bit—enough to show that I had no substantial reason to kill Alex. ”
Heat rose to my face. “And what does this have to do with us eloping? Were you serious just now? You told Darcy you’d think about it. Did you mean the money or us?”
“The money’s a no brainer, Lydia. If he’s offering it, I’ll take it. At least for now. This is serious stuff.” He bit his lip and reached for my hand. “He did offer to increase the amount if I married you. That was the issue I said I’d discuss with you.”
I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to slap him or kiss him.
“I’m going to sit in the hot tub for a bit.
” I walked outside onto the deck, dropped my cover-up, then dipped beneath the surface of the steamy water and let myself be weightless for a moment.
This wasn’t a decision I was prepared to make.
Yes, I really, really liked Wickham, and getting a huge payout to marry him would be amazing.
Of course, we wouldn’t be like a real married couple .
. . yet. I could certainly use some extra money.
But marriage wasn’t a game. I didn’t want our budding relationship to be a con or a joke, but part of me wondered even if we got married for show if it could turn into the real deal.
When I stood up and blinked open my eyes, Wickham stood a few feet away. “Scared you off? Sorry.”
“Little bit, yes. Marriage, even if it’s to make us appear innocent, is a big deal to me. It has to mean something more than money.” I shuffled my feet but didn’t move any closer to him. “You are so relaxed about all of this. I’m not sure what to make of you right now.”
“I guess I don’t know either.” He stepped closer to me. “It wasn’t realistic—not sure why Darcy suggested it, and I’m even more unsure about why I didn’t shoot the idea down immediately.”
“Why didn’t you shoot it down?” I asked. My emotions were up and down like the constant crescendo and decrescendo of police sirens, and I couldn’t make sense of them. I had to know what he was thinking about all of this.
“Well, it’s not like we dislike each other. Obviously we’re not ready for the real deal, but who knows what the future holds.” His grin turned slightly impish, and butterflies crashed about in my stomach. “And being accused of murder is the last thing either of us needs.”
My urge to slap him subsided. I circled my fingers on the water’s surface, lightheaded from the swinging pendulum of emotions. “Well, it is pretty romantic. It’s not often people run away and get married nowadays. Usually, they date for years before even considering it.”
“It’s not like we’re stuck together forever if it doesn’t work.
We’ll get it annulled if we have any regrets later.
But it will be great, and either way you’ll get half the extra money.
” Wickham moved even closer until he stood right in front of me.
“All I’m saying is that it’s not as crazy as it seems.”
I smiled and shrugged like a teenager at prom. “Maybe not.”
We sat down, settling into the hot tub. Steam rose around us, and it was comfortable despite our snowy surroundings.
He wasn’t going to get me that easily. I still had my dignity and giving in without a little interrogation would look foolish.
I had to at least pretend to give him a hard time.
“Tell me something, George Wickham. Are you an honest man?”
“Usually.” He scooted close and wrapped his arm around me. “I love the stage, but it’s such a beautiful lie.”
“What makes you angry? Do you have a temper?” I asked.
“I guess so. Doesn’t everyone? I got into trouble a lot as a kid.
Sometimes I fully deserved it. But sometimes I was the scapegoat.
I don’t enjoy being blamed for things I didn’t do.
It makes me angry. But I can tell you that I’ve never done anything out of anger that I regret—well, except when I cut a hole in Darcy’s riding shirt because he wouldn’t let me come along—that was dumb. I was eight.”
“You were eight?” There was no way he was that perfect. He had to regret other things. “So then, what are your faults, Wickham? No one’s perfect. Moment of truth.”
“I’m getting a full rundown, then?” He chuckled.
“Can’t blame you. My list of faults is long, and I’m probably blind to half of them.
But here goes: Of course, there’s the whole vampire issue—it’s a bigger deal than you realize, and I’m still figuring out what that entails.
I’m a bit impulsive, hopelessly romantic, and not great at managing money.
I lose my phone all the time. I don’t have a great sense of direction, and I may be a little sensitive to criticism. There’s more. I could go on.”
“Well, you’re no worse than me.” I looked into his deep brown eyes, a million thoughts swimming through my mind.
I couldn’t believe the next words that came out of my mouth.
“So, you’re saying you’re reasonably honest; you don’t have a problematic temper.
Obviously, you’re responsible enough, helping run a band and all.
You’re talented, fun, sweet, and a hot vampire.
I could think of worse things than running off to elope with you, even if it is just officially for a payout. ”
Wickham smiled, and scooped me up into his arms, lifting me out of the water. “There are definitely worse things. Marry me.”
“And if we regret it?” I was playing coy. Obviously, I would never regret marrying George Wickham, but I wasn’t sure he’d feel the same way tomorrow.
“That’s not a no. Here’s my idea: We’ll go into town and buy you a dress. I’ll get something respectable to wear. I’ll tell Brig. They have weddings up here all the time, and Brig is an ordained priest. We can have a sunset ceremony in front of those big windows.”
“Um, wow. That is a plan. But you didn’t answer my question.”
“Thirty-day satisfaction guarantee. If we change our minds and want the whole thing annulled. What do you say?”
Maybe it was feeling safe in his arms, or I was living out the fantasy of being with a rockstar. Or, maybe I was tired of my monotonous life, and this was the opportunity to shake things up. Whichever it was, I said, “You’ve thought of everything. I can’t see why not.”
Wickham pulled me close as we stood up together. “Here’s to a new adventure.”
I was getting married. Actually, it was my wedding day.
Something about running around the nearby ski town, searching for a wedding dress, and not telling anyone about our plans had me on the edge of euphoria.
My life had become a romantic film or novel, and I was the star.
But for some reason, I felt myself checking over my shoulder.
I kept getting the weird tingling on the back of my neck that always happened when someone was watching me.
It must’ve been nerves, because neither of our families knew about our plans.
And this was definitely a case of asking for forgiveness rather than permission.
In a wispy little white dress, I stepped out of the dressing room. Form-fitting, it reached to the floor with a short train, and it was perfect for a simple ceremony at the lodge.
Wickham’s jaw dropped, and he gasped. It took him a moment to speak. “Beautiful.”
Wickham bought a white linen shirt, tan pants, and a beige blazer. Then we stopped by the floral shop for a bouquet of creamy pink-and-white roses.
“Is this a dumb thing to do?” I laughed.
Wickham nodded, grinning. “Probably. Thirty-day money-back guarantee, right?”
I nudged him with my elbow. “What could go wrong?”
I shouldn’t have asked that question.