The Highwayman's Bride (9 page)

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Authors: Jane Beckenham

Tags: #Romance, #Historical Romance, #England, #Regency Romance, #Love Story, #London

BOOK: The Highwayman's Bride
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Tears stung her eyes, but slowly her breath came back. Aiden, however, did not release her and she simply stood in his embrace, resting her head against his shoulder.

Seconds passed, his fingers caressing the nape of her neck, twining in her hair.

She swallowed back the desire to remain exactly where she was. “I…I am all right now, you can let me go.”

“I might not want to.” But suddenly he thrust her from him. “You are a temptation, Tess, but temptation isn’t allowed.” And with that cryptic remark, her husband of barely an hour spun on his heels and strode to the other end of the room, reaching for a brandy and downing it in one long gulp.

He took up a heated conversation with Lord Beswick, and kept well away from her, which suited Tess perfectly. The man was far too overbearing for his own good.

And don’t forget handsome.

Unable to stomach the thought of drinking the hot chocolate, or heaven forbid Aiden watching her do it, she chose the cherry wine. It was rather palatable and she drank several more over the next while.

“It’s time.”

Tess glanced up, her body swaying and her world tilting precariously. Heat seemed to radiate from inside out and she fanned herself with her hand. A tiny hiccup escaped her lips. “For what?”

Amusement etched into Aiden’s expression. “Have you imbibed too much, Tess?”

She squinted, peering at him as if he were far away. “Only a little bit,” she said, swaying. Another hiccup burst from her lips. “Oops, I think I might have had a tad more than a little.”

Aiden pressed his lips together, but still smiled. “So it would seem. The show has to continue, Tess. We need to leave.”

“For Charnley Hall.”

“No, not tonight. It’s too late and travel on the roads in the dark is dangerous. There are highwaymen about.”

She shot him a look, and again captured the teasing glint in his eyes. This time, however, it was all blurry. She narrowed her gaze, leaning forward and peering at him. “Do you realize, husband, that your eyes change color?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “That is something I’ve not been told before.”

“Oh, but they do.” She raised a hand and trailed her forefinger along the corner of his left eye and then down his cheek. “When you’re angry they’re dark and foreboding, almost the color of the night, but now, when you’re…” Tess hiccupped and drew back.

“When I’m what?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, which was a mistake as it hurt most sorely. “’Tis merely foolish musings on my part.”

“Or perhaps too much cherry wine.”

“You were saying?”

“Everyone will expect us to honeymoon at my home in Cadogan Square.”

“But we aren’t really going to stay married.”

He silenced her with a finger to her lips. “Shush. That’s our secret, one we
both
keep,” he said, and suddenly Tess noticed his eyes had darkened once more.

Was he angry with her?

He had a right to be. She had coerced him into this sham.
Blackmailed him.

She stamped down her guilt.

There was no other option.

“So you’re leaving for your honeymoon.” Lord Beswick stood in the grand foyer.

Wiping away her tears, Aunt Tulip stood next to him. “Oh, it’s so romantic,” she cried into her kerchief.

Tess offered her a quick kiss. “Everything will be fine, Aunt.” She turned to Aiden’s friend. “Thank you for coming.”

He took her hand in his. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, my dear Lady Charnley.”

With quick good-byes as the sun began its descent over London, they left everyone and rode in Aiden’s carriage to his home in Cadogan Square.

Head throbbing, Tess massaged her temple. “I’m sorry about before,” she said as the carriage traversed the cobbled roads. “And thank you for keeping the speed down.”

His posture rigid, the only movement that of a booted foot tapping a relentless beat on the carriage floor, Aiden said, “I’m not particularly keen to have my carriage the recipient of your excess cherry wine. Have you sobered up?”

Swallowing back her embarrassment, she offered him a half smile. “Please remind me to never drink again.” The
clip-clop
of the horse hooves pounded in her brain. “And though you have a fine set of horses, they are a tad noisy.”

Aiden’s mouth softened. “Horses have become an occupational hazard of mine.”

“For a fast getaway, I presume.”

“Of course.” But he looked away from her and Tess had the distinct impression he had intended to say something else.

About to ask him what, their driver suddenly reined in the horses as they rounded the corner into Cadogan Square. Aiden drew back the shutter and peered out. Opposite them was another carriage, its window covering also drawn back.

“What’s going on?”

“My darling Lord Charnley, it appears I’m too late for an assignation.”

Tess leaned forward to get a better look at the speaker. A supremely attractive woman, hair curled around her face, her décolleté shockingly uncovered, waved a bejeweled hand at them. Then she spied Tess and her mouth soured.

“Your wife, I presume.”

“Yes.” Aiden’s tone was clipped.

The woman didn’t offer any congratulations. In fact she looked entirely displeased.

“We’re heading home. Good day, Charlotte.”

“For your honeymoon, no doubt.” Mouth overly glossed, she shot Tess a look that would have, if the woman had a dagger, pierced her heart at forty paces. “Enjoy yourselves, but then I know you will, Aiden darling, because
we
always did.” Her brittle laughter was silenced as she slammed her window closed.

Aiden tapped his walking cane to the roof of their carriage and their driver prompted the horses forward.

“Baroness Charlotte Harringford, I gather.”

He cast her a glance. “Correct. The baroness is an old friend.”

“Your mistress?”

“No longer.”

For an unknown reason Tess exhaled a relieved sigh.

“Are you worried I would venture into the bed of another, sweet Tess?”

Suddenly uncomfortable, she tangled her fingers in her fur muff, not wanting Aiden to witness her nerves. “I care not whether you visit your mistress. As long as you are discreet.”

Even as she uttered the words, she knew she lied. The thought of Aiden in the arms of another woman fired a round of emotions she had no idea how to disseminate or understand. What was her world coming to?

“Jealous?”

Her jaw slackened, words lost for several heartbeats. “That is quite ridiculous.”

“Is it?”

“Of course.” Her hold on her muff tightened. “I simply do not want my name paraded about as the
cuckolded
wife.”

“You like my kisses.”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” he said, leaning across and drawing a finger down her cheek. He tugged the silk ribbon that tied her bonnet and it fell back. His mouth curved into a broad smile. He reminded her of a lion approaching its prey.

“It has everything to do with it, sweet Tess, because if we are in a marriage of convenience, it does not give you the right to be jealous where the Baroness, or any other woman, is concerned.”

A shocking pain twisted viciously in her heart. “So you will visit her?”

His smile faded. “No, Tess, I give you my word that while it lasts, I will not fornicate outside our marriage.”

Chapter Eight

A new home, a new life, a new husband

For a man who secrets his life, what of the wife?

Mirabelle’s Musings

December 1813

The horses stilled outside Aiden’s home. Not waiting for his driver, he shoved open the carriage door and climbed out. He turned to face her and held out a hand. “Your new home, albeit for tonight, Lady Charnley,” he said with a stiff bow.

Not for the first time did Tess wonder if she had turned completely mad. Blackmailing a rogue, a man who was actually a powerful peer.

“Tess.”

Aiden’s gentle tone countered her musings and she gathered her skirts to exit the carriage, only to stall as she stood on the step.

The setting sun partially shadowed the grand façade and cast a soft glow over the brickwork, turning it a whispery shade of pink.

Standard rose bushes lined the short pathway and though the winter had stemmed their bloom, Tess could imagine the intense fragrance they would emit come summer.

“It is beautiful.”

“It’s home. Sometimes,” Aiden countered.

“When you’re not doing your other business.”

“Aye.” In one swift movement, he lifted Tess from the carriage step and into his arms.

“Stop! What are you doing?”

“Following tradition,” he said, and took the steps to the front entrance with long strides. “There’s a superstition that says if you trip over the threshold, it brings bad luck to a marriage.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. Superstition is purely mumbo jumbo. Besides this marriage is—”

“Are you willing to risk it?”

“I will not trip. You can put me down.”

“Given the amount of cherry wine you’ve supped, there’s a strong possibility you’ll fall flat on your face. Or do you fancy inviting bad luck? And besides,” he said with a wink, “having you in my arms is rather nice, as long as you’re quiet!”

“Quiet!” Her shriek echoed around the entire square.

Aiden rolled his eyes and stepped over the threshold. “I thought it would prove impossible.”

Her jaw slackened. Aiden still held her close, the tattoo of his heartbeat thundering against her.

The door closed behind them and suddenly he loosened his hold and she slid down his length, aware of every inch of him.

“Welcome home, m’lord.”

“Thank you, Morley. Tess, this is—”

“We’ve already met,” the butler intervened.

It took Aiden a split second to comprehend, then his brows rose and he rubbed a hand along his strong jaw. “Ah, yes,” he said with a knowing nod, “that little episode. However, now the circumstances have changed a fraction.”

Morley’s eyes narrowed, concern etched into his countenance.

“Allow me to introduce you to my wife, the Countess of Charnley.”

Shock blatantly obvious, though like a seasoned employee used to the vagaries of the upper class, Morley recovered quickly. “Delighted, m’lady.” He offered a sharp bow toward Tess, but his delight did not quite reach his eyes. They remained wary. “I’ll get the staff to prepare things straightaway.”

“Please,” Tess said, “do not go to any trouble. I understand we’re heading to Charnley Hall in the morning.”

The butler shot Aiden a questioning look.

“My wife is correct. I have matters to attend nearby.”

“Very well, m’lord.” Morley offered a curt nod and then headed back through a door down the corridor.

“Does he know about your nighttime activities?”

“He does. However, it seems to me you’ve a morbid interest in those activities.” His lowered tone held a distinct starkness.

“Not at all.” She stepped away from him. The truth was that though the thought of stealing from people was horrifying, the thrill of taking charge of her life had been worth it.

“I do believe you’ve a craving for adventure, wife, but I’m sorry to say it’ll be a quiet life in Charnley.” He stepped back, holding out his arm toward the wide, sweeping staircase. “After you, sweet Tess.”

Suddenly nervous, though determined she would not offer a hint of it to her new husband, she tipped her chin a fraction higher and walked up the staircase. At the first floor hallway, Aiden stepped in front of her and opened a door.

“Our room.”

Shock jabbed pinpricks into her skin. She cast a quick glance into the room. A four-poster bed with a canopy of tapestry drapes dominated the space—and her focus. “That is utterly impossible.”

“Imperative,” he countered. He stepped into the room, turned, and waited for her to enter.

“I’m not coming in there. It is your bedchamber.”

“True.”

She looked to either side of her. There were four doors to the right of her and an equal number across the other side of the stair landing. “Those doors lead to other chambers.”

“They do.”

The intensity of Aiden’s stare seeped beneath her skin, warming the same places as when he’d kissed her. Her nipples hardened. Embarrassed, she pulled her cape closer around her and disconnected her gaze from his intuitive one.

“I’d be quite content to take one of the other rooms. There’s no need to call for a maid. I’m capable of attending to myself.”

“I’m sure you are. You’re a remarkable woman.”

“A compliment? So why is it that I feel it’s not quite so?”

His mouth curved slightly, causing a flock of butterflies to tumble over and over in her stomach and take flight.

“You are my
new
wife Tess, and this is supposed to be our wedding night. We need to at least sleep in the same room. The staff may whisper and whispers spread.”

“Then you should have better control over your staff, my lord,” she countered with a sniff. But she knew what he said was true.

“We have a marriage of convenience, albeit your convenience. You said you did not want to be cuckolded. I, too, would prefer the outside world think this marriage is one of true love and lust.”


If the moment weren’t so serious, Aiden would have laughed. A sense of joy had taken hold of him. A strange emotion, foreign even. Joy that Tess was at his side. That she was his wife.

Definitely strange, since the woman had blackmailed him to this point and there was still the suspicion about her motives.

A marriage of convenience.

His convenience—because it gave him respite to observe Gibbs and Nash. Dig deeper. The thought that Tess may know of Gibbs and the smuggler’s business arrangement caused something akin to disappointment to sour in his gut.

For months as he’d traversed battlefields, listening for oncoming enemies, wondering if this would be his last breath, Aiden had relied on his gut instinct. It had come to his rescue on more than one occasion and yet here he was alive, breathing, and married to a woman he wasn’t sure he could trust.

He didn’t want to believe Tess was in cahoots with Nash and her uncle, but…

But…what if he was wrong? What if Tess was in the thick of it?

She turned from the window overlooking the garden, her expression pensive. Something in Aiden’s chest tightened, an overwhelming sense of protectiveness taking hold.

Fool. Caring leads to being vulnerable
.

“I’ll go so you can prepare for bed.”

“No, don’t.”

His breath snagged in his chest. “I thought you would want your privacy.”

“I do, but…”

He saw her visibly swallow.

“I realize this is difficult Tess, and you are nervous. You have no need to be frightened, ’tis not as if we have not already spent the night together.”

Color stained her cheeks scarlet. “That was different.”

“How so?”

“We were passing strangers then.”

“Thrown together by fate.”

“Or our own stupidity,” she countered.

His mouth stretched in a sudden smile, laughter rumbling from deep down in his chest. It felt good. He felt good. Relaxed—almost.

“This is not a wedding night, Aiden,” she said, folding her arms in front of her.

He recognized her action as her talisman. An action of protection.

“I’m aware of that. What do you want, Tess?”

Her gaze dropped suddenly to the floor and for a single heartbeat he wanted to say no, don’t do that. Look at me. He wanted to continue to gaze into her eyes that reminded him of the forests at Charnley, a place where he used to feel relaxed and free.

Used to.

Aiden cut back such waffling emotions and cursed himself silently. Tess talked of their moment of stupidity. This was
his
moment—for allowing such sentimental claptrap to weaken his defenses, allowing vulnerability a look in. Again.

What about lust?

Aiden gasped for oxygen.

“I know I said I did not need a maid, but the buttons, they are…I need your help to undress.” She turned her back to him.

Lust spiraled.

Her gown was affixed with ties at the neck, easily tugged undone, but a series of tiny buttons followed the length of her spine. She said nothing, simply stood still and waited for him.

It took him a few tries to take command of the task, fumbling repeatedly. “Why do they make women’s clothing so fiddly?”

“To cause the male population frustration.”

“Then your seamstress has been supremely successful.”

“That’s nice to hear.”

“Nice!” Aiden cocked his head, concentrating solely on reaching the halfway mark. “The woman who designed this dress should be shot at dawn.”

The tinkling sound of her laughter echoed around him as he reached the last three buttons.

Lust!

The dress loosened and with a shockwave of pleasure, he realized exactly what he was doing—undressing his wife. His groin tightened, expectancy running rampant.

Forget it. Ignore it. Ignore her.

Except for the two fingers he used to untangle the last of the confounded buttons, he curled the others into his palms, not wanting to touch her.

Oh he wanted to—but he dared not.

The second to last button undone, his pulse accelerated.

Do the task and walk away.

But he couldn’t. Instead, his breath held as the last button came away and the gown slipped down her shoulders, exposing the alabaster purity of her skin.

“So delicate.” The words whispered across his lips, from his soul. He brushed his knuckles across her nape and into her hairline, fingers threading through her hair. She’d worn her hair up in an almost Grecian style, reminding him of the statues of that ancient land. Soft tendrils framed her face, their silken texture tugging at something primal in him. A need. A want. Desperation.

“So luscious.”

A soft sigh fluttered from her and her head tilted to one side.

Leaning forward, Aiden’s lips sought the delicate curve of her neck. Once. Twice. He reached around her waist and drew her to him so that she rested against his length. With one hand splayed across her middle, the other caressed her bare arm as he continued to kiss along her shoulder and back to just beneath her earlobe. He nipped at it.

“Ouch, you—” She spun around, shocking him with the intensity in her eyes.

Desire. Heated. Potent. Urgent.

Her lips parted, her face flushed a gentle shade of pink.

A slow smile took hold of Aiden, building from the inside out, burning brighter by the second. Every part of him wanted to touch her. Hold her.

A sharp knock resounded on the door, cauterizing the moment. “M’lord, if you please. ’Tis urgent.”

Morley’s anxious voice reached from the other side of the closed door.

Tess clamped her dress to her and jerked away from him, taking several steps backward.

Frustration at the untimely interruption overridden by the knowledge his butler would not interrupt unless it was vital, Aiden wrenched the door open.

The man’s eyes darted toward Tess, then sharply back to Aiden. He leaned forward and whispered in Aiden’s ear.

“Damn it. Now?”

Morley drew back and Aiden offered a curt nod. “Saddle up Phantom immediately.” He closed the door and turned to Tess. “It seems, my dear sweet Tess, we’ve been interrupted.”

“In the nick of time.”

His mouth twitched. “Fate, it seems, has again intervened in our lives.” Rubbing both hands across his face in an effort to clear his head of the other emotions crowding in, he reached for his woolen tailcoat and from a secret drawer within his wardrobe withdrew a pistol.

On turning, he caught her gasp as she focused on the weapon. “So you go out tonight.”

“Word has come. ’Tis important.”

Her brow creased, eyes darkening, the heat of anger coloring her cheeks. “Go if you feel you must, but do not expect me to approve.”

Aiden tucked his pistol into a pocket on the inside of his tailcoat. “A bit hypocritical, do you not think, since thievery is the way we met.”

“You are a lord. You have money, a beautiful home, and a family estate in Charnley. Why do you need to rob people? Is it excitement you seek?”

“This is a different kind of battle, Tess.”

“War? You were on the Peninsula?”

“I was. War is not exciting, nor is this battle, but it is one I am not prepared to lose.” He reached for her, surprising her so that she had no time to react, his mouth covering hers.

God, she tasted so sweet.

He deepened their kiss, demanding more, taking succor from her beautiful mouth, his tongue sliding along the length of her lips.

She opened to him, surprising him, but with reluctance he pushed her away. “Good-night, sweet Tess, and remember this,” he said as he drew the pad of his thumb down her cheek and across lips still glistening from their kiss, “life is often an illusion.” That he had not told her the truth of his occupation niggled. But tonight he had no time. The truth must wait.

Spinning away from temptation, he strode from the one person in this life who it seemed had the ability to seep beneath his skin—if he let her.


That was not meant to happen. Aiden kissing her. And for goodness sake, she had kissed him right back. Wanted more. Offered more.

Still clasping her gown to her nakedness, Tess sank down on the bed, only to jump right back up again as she heard the sound of voices from outside. She raced to the window and gazed down into the garden.

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