The Highwayman's Bride (8 page)

“In name only,” she corrected swiftly.

“Easily remedied.”

Tess stalled him with her hand. “Stop right there. Do not sweet-talk me.”

“Is it working?”

Only too well.

“Not at all.” She tossed her chin up and hoped he’d read it as her disregard to his tempting words.

And don’t forget his kisses.

How could she? They’d already seared into her being, tangling with emotions she wasn’t sure how to control.

“You talk of finding a cottage. There’s no need.”

“Of course there is. That is the entire point of this farce. I cannot stay a moment longer with Tulip and Luther.”

“I agree. That’s why I’m proposing you come down with me to Charnley Hall.”

His offer caught her off guard.

“It’s the simplest solution.”

Tess eyed him as suspicion warred. “For whom?”

One edge of Aiden’s mouth hitched slightly. “Why you, of course.”

“Why are you being nice?”

“You mean why am I being nice, since you’ve blackmailed me?”

“Something you’re not going to let me forget.”

“Probably not,” he agreed with a slight smile. “So it is settled then?”

“I…I don’t know. Is this your home?”

“It is.”

“But I thought you were—”

“A man needs a place to call home, despite his occupation, Tess.”

At her hesitation, he continued.

“’Tis on the Thames estuary. The village is quite small, the residents mostly fisherfolk, but there are beautiful walks along the river’s edge.”

Anything far away from Luther and his plan to use her as financial fodder was better than staying. At least this way she could build her own life. She’d leapt into blackmailing Aiden with only the need to get away foremost in her mind.

Charnley Hall sounded just the place to start her new life. A month. Two. Then she would find a way to leave.

“It sounds perfect.”

“It is,” Aiden agreed, “far away from your uncle.”

“As I said, perfect,” she answered with a smile of her own.

Aiden gathered her hands in his and despite the chilled air from the snowfall, his touch was warm and comforting. She had told him that he was a nice man, despite everything. Despite being a thief. And he was. But there was something else about him, something assuring. She would be safe.

But what about when he kisses you? Will you be safe then? Will your heart be safe?

Tess clamped down that thought. There would be no more kisses.

Chapter Seven

Love’s heart rings with truth

Lest Cupid’s arrow tears apart

Wed in haste, or repent at leisure.

Mirabelle’s Musings

December 1813

The time had come.

Tess tried unsuccessfully to ignore Tulip’s incessant chatter and the fussing and plucking of imaginary bits of fluff from her wedding gown.

Eyeing herself in the mirror, she acceded that she looked rather presentable. The soft rose velvet dress with a matching silk underskirt caught under the bust with a silver sash was exquisite.

“Madame Laurelei has done a wonderful job,” Tulip again flustered.

“She has, but really there was no need.”

“Of course there was. It’s your wedding day.”

“A formality at best.”

Lost as usual in her fantasy, Tulip ignored Tess’s honesty. “Your handsome beau is downstairs ready and waiting.”

Tulip’s announcement proffered a surge of relief. Awake most of the night, Tess had worried he might change his mind and not turn up.

That they had met again at the Bancroft ball only a week ago and now she was marrying him proved a constant shock.

Behind her, Millie tended her hair. “They’re both so handsome. Mr. Masters has his friend with him. He’s very handsome too.”

Tess stared at Millie’s reflection as the young maid readjusted a curl. “Have you set your sights on him, Millie? I thought you were keen on Arthur, the new groom?”

Millie giggled, blushing scarlet. “Oh no, Miss, not me.” She suddenly busied herself with realigning the brush set.

“Millie?”

“It is no use, Miss,” she said, wringing her hands. “He only notices the horses.”

Tess turned from her reflection and captured the young maid’s hands. “Sometimes, Millie, I think men are simply dunces.” Walking to her wardrobe, she yanked open the door and withdrew a flower-sprigged bonnet. She held it out to Millie. “Here, take this, I’m sure when you wear it, young Arthur won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

Millie’s delight shone and she took the bonnet with shaking hands. “Oh, Miss Tess, thank you. Thank you.”

Tess offered her a smile. “It’s me who should be thanking you. You’ve done a lovely job with my hair and…well, everything,” she said, aware of the resurgence of tears she’d struggled to keep at bay.

Millie rushed forward and hugged her, and then, with her new bonnet clutched to her chest, she scurried out of the room.

“Are you ready?” Tulip spoke for the first time for what seemed at least a minute, something Tess wished could have been decidedly longer.

It was time to leave. Time to get married.

She stroked a hand across her throat. Was the noose of marriage about to be tightened around her throat? Reaching for the small bouquet of sweet smelling herbs with several tiny bud roses entwined, Tess turned toward the door. But she was thwarted as her aunt restrained her with a gentle hand on her forearm.

“A minute, dear niece.”

Noting the sudden conspiratorial tone, Tess shot her a startled glance. “There are some…some womanly things I must discuss with you before you—”

Comprehension dawned instantly. “Oh, Aunt, do not worry.”

“You know already what goes on between—”

“A husband and wife. Yes, I have read of such matters.”

Her aunt’s eyes widened, mouth clicking. “You read too much, Tess, and that shocking column
Mirabelle’s Musings
! Such goings on! I just don’t understand you young people. Why do you want to read such scandal?” she said shaking her head. “But…men,” she stuttered. “They have certain urges, you understand. Certain needs. Mr. Masters seems to be a gentleman and I’m sure will be…gentle.” Tulip’s cheeks turned scarlet and she drew back. “Now we must not delay any further.”

Tulip didn’t give her a chance to reply as she bustled out of the bedchamber, expecting Tess to follow. But she couldn’t.

Was she doing the right thing by marrying a stranger? A criminal, for goodness’ sake?

Her fingertips found their way to her lips, tracing their outline. Remembering his kisses, heat traveled the length of her, warming her from the inside out. There were feelings—emotions she had not experienced before, all tangled up with his kisses. Tess only wished she understood these unfamiliar emotions fighting for supremacy in her body. There was definitely an attraction between her and Aiden. She liked his kisses, but she had already decided that they were no longer allowed.

She would be staunch. She would not allow herself such luxury again. Besides, she wouldn’t be staying long, so best not to be tempted.

“Tess.”

Tulip’s anxious call snapped Tess out of her quandary. Marry, or stay with Tulip and Luther?

She had no choice. Not if she wanted to live her own life, her way.

Pushing her shoulders back, she tilted her chin up just a fraction higher. “Time to get married, Tess Stanhope,” she whispered as she exited her bedroom and came to stand with Tulip at the top of the stairs.

“One more thing, my dear.” Tulip leaned a bit closer to her, the tang of the peppermint leaves she often chewed fresh on her breath. “We know very little about your Mr. Masters. If he…hurts you in any way, or you cannot stand…what he does to you in the bedchamber,” she said blushing, “you can come home.”

“Back here?”

“Yes. You can leave if he hurts you.”

The reality of what her aunt said bloomed. “But Aunt, what about you? Why haven’t you left?”

“Me?” Confusion washed across her aunt’s face. “Oh, my dear,” she said with a brittle laugh. “Your uncle loves me.”

“But he hits you.”

“Only when he’s under great strain,” she said, waving a hand in the air as if to dismiss their conversation. “Now, I’ve said what I needed to say. It’s time for you to go to your husband. Your parents would be so proud.”

Her parents.

Their marriage had been special. A true love story, but they were gone and could not help her.

Living with Tulip and Luther, hearing his constant belittling of her aunt, Tess had begun to wonder if her parents’ marriage had even been real. What if she had simply imagined such harmony because of her grief?

Blinking away the sudden onset of tears, she wished again that they could have been here, especially today.

“I know you miss them, my dear.” Tulip leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “But now you will have that handsome man downstairs to look after you.”

“Oh, no, Aunt,” she said, suddenly imbued with strength and courage.

Stand tall, proud and determined, Tess.

“
I
will look after
myself
.”

Tulip tut-tutted and took a step down the grand staircase, leaving Tess with no option but to follow and walk into the bowels of the unknown.

The moment she entered the morning room, her gaze set on Aiden. Her throat closed over.

Dressed in a navy tailcoat and crisp white shirt beneath his brocade waistcoat, black trousers molded his thighs. The man was so handsome, so powerful—and soon to be her husband.

His hair had been trimmed, which caused a surprising flutter of disappointment. She remembered the feel of it sliding across her fingertips. Remembered delighting in it.

…

At her footstep, Aiden discontinued talking to the man at his side and turned to her, his darkened gaze holding her captive. She tightened her grip on her bouquet. It was time to get married. She took one step into the room, then another, drawn by the intensity of his gaze.

“You came,” she whispered as she came alongside him.

He leaned toward her, his warm breath teasing her skin. “You thought perhaps I wouldn’t?”

He’d read her mind.

“Tut, tut, sweet Tess. Trust is such an important aspect of marriage, is it not?” He offered her a wink and her cheeks burned.

A subtle cough from the vicar standing in front of them interrupted any opportunity for her to respond and she tore her gaze from Aiden’s.

The next few minutes passed in a daze of words, until it was Aiden’s turn to recite his vows.

“Please repeat…I, Aiden Masters, Earl of Charnley.”

An earl?

Eyes wide, Tess rounded on him. “You are a peer,” she accused.

Humor glittered in his piercingly blue eyes. “I am.”

“What were you doing at the Bancroft’s dance? That isn’t the sort of thing I would expect an earl to attend. Or is it that you only steal from those not of your station?”

“I attended incognito with a friend.”

“And did you not think that you being a peer is something I should know prior to our wedding?”

“Remiss of you for not informing your betrothed, Charnley?” the man at his side chuckled.

Aiden shrugged his shoulders. “All in good time.”

“And when would that time have been,
my lord
?”

His lips curved into a nonchalant smile. “Who knows? Let’s just say it is a point of interest I decided to hold back.”

“My Lord,” the vicar again interrupted. “I need your answer. Do you take Miss Tess Stanhope as your wife?”

Aiden winked at her again, and Tess gritted her teeth. “I do,” he said.

Still, fury bubbled deep. “You, you had no right.”

“Of course I did. Think of it as tit for tat. You know one secret about me, and I decided to keep a tiny secret from you.”

“Tiny! You’re a peer of the realm.”

“I am.”

“But you’re also a high…”

“Hush.” Aiden claimed her mouth, silencing her in an instant. His lips were warm, gentle at first, and then he took her with a passion reminiscent of their first kiss.

In the background, she vaguely heard a titter of laughter from Tulip accompanied by a snort of disgust from Luther.

Wrapped in Aiden’s arms, he cupped the base of her skull with one hand, the other resting in the small of her back. His fingers were splayed, the pressure exquisite.

Her breathing stilled.
Breathing? So unnecessary.

Feelings—so many—so exciting, strange, and dangerous, charged through her body, directly to her heart. She had wondered if it had been a figment of her imagination—this wonderful tension that blossomed when he kissed her.

Imagination had nothing on this. This kiss proved how real it was.

But with a breathless sigh she at last pushed away. This was so wrong. She needed to forget such feelings, for they could not be part of this marriage. She had to remember she was marrying a rogue and that she wasn’t going to be staying.

Surely it would be easier once they reached his home. He would be undertaking his next robbery and she had simply to bide her time for the right moment to leave.

A few minutes later and the marriage ceremony was over.

“Congratulations, you are now husband and wife.”

Aiden leaned toward her, whispering, “See, that was easy.”

“Yes, my lord, whatever you say, my lord.”

He shot her a teasing smile. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“That depends on what you’re talking about. But then, this is all for show, and
this show
, my lord,” she stated baldly, “is just about over.”

His response was a rumble of deep throaty laughter, a husky tone that threatened to seep beneath her defenses.

Tess clamped her teeth together, holding herself rigid. She must resist temptation.

“Congratulations.” Aiden’s friend came alongside them. “Let me introduce myself, since your husband has been a tad remiss in that department. Carson Humphries, the Earl of Beswick,” he said with a short bow. He took her hand and kissed it.

“That’s my wife you’re kissing, Beswick.” Aiden slapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. His tone held a distinct cut to it though his expression remained humorous. “I think kissing my wife is my prerogative, hmm.” He took her hand from Lord Beswick’s and linked his fingers with hers. “Some cake, my sweet wife? Marriage makes a man hungry.” He drew her toward the table bulging with food.

Tulip had arranged the wedding breakfast, though it was really a light afternoon tea. There was far too much, though one look at her uncle already hunkered down in the corner, port in one hand, an overloaded plate in the other, and Tess was quite sure Luther would manage to eat a good portion of it.

“I’d rather starve.”

As he reached for a slice of the vanilla cake, Aiden’s brows shot up. “Is this a moment when ‘be careful what you wish for’ could be appropriate, sweet wife?”

A scalding heat stole across her cheeks. She gritted her teeth. “Stop calling me that.”

“Wife, or…yes, perhaps you are right. Sweet would not be a word to address you with at this moment, considering your mood.”

“And…and please do not kiss me again,” she said, fueling her determination. She tilted her chin up, defiance cresting. “You are simply the man I married.”

“While you are my wife, who responds to my kisses.”

“I do not.”

“Really?” The light in his eyes sparkled. “Shall I test your denial to prove my point?”

“No. No.” Tess snatched up a plate and a few tiny cakes. “Suddenly I’m hungry.” She turned to Carson Humphries. “These look rather delicious, don’t you think?” And she grabbed the first thing in front of her and stuffed the tiny cake into her mouth.

“I would say it is your husband you should ask, for it seems if I offer any opinion I risk losing my head.”

Tess shot Aiden a glare, only to receive a smile in return, and the tiny butterflies that had taken up residence in her chest fluttered.

“Did you know that food is a very sensual thing, Tess?”

The vanilla cake caught in her throat.

“In some cultures they use food during the art of making love. Chocolate, they say, is an aphrodisiac.”

Tess swallowed, and turned away from the mug of hot chocolate she’d been about to reach for.

“Do you like oysters, Tess?”

She spied the bowl of oysters in their shell. Her uncle had already eaten at least half a dozen, the shells tossed to the floor at his feet.

“They, too, are said to increase potency.”

Tess choked, unable to catch her breath as a cake crumb lodged in her throat. Aiden pulled her to him and patted her on the back, though all she could feel was the hard length of his body against hers.