"What difference does it make what 'e thinks? You two'll be safe in London by then."
"We 're not going back to London just yet. The marriage is to be secret for a while, until we expose Granbury for the snake he is."
"You 're going to try to expose 'im?" Nan's voice was shrill with disbelief, but she quickly hushed her tone for the next question. "Are you two completely mad? The man will kill you."
Or see them hanged for a crime that was not even real, Emily thought to herself. "We have no choice, Nancy. We must convince others of the truth of the man, or too many people will suffer."
"And what will the countess say when 'e tells 'er what you've done?" Nancy moaned softly at the thought.
The marquess had been hit hard, his head would be bound to ache. No doubt there'd even be a lump or a bruise. His man would surely notice and question Granbury even if Granbury himself didn't remember events clearly. "I suspect he will say nothing to anyone. He is a proud man."
"'E'll want blood, then," Nan whispered. "Yours, I fear, my lady."
Emily sighed. Yes, he would. "We need time to bring him to justice. This should give it to us." We hope.
"'Ow can I 'elp?"
"Oh, no. Nancy, I wouldn't want to involve you in the danger."
"I 'm already involved, my lady I've been trying to bring that monster to justice for near a year now."
The statement shocked Emily speechless for a moment. And then the questions filled her mind. "Did he . . . did he hurt you, too?"
"'E killed my sister, and I'll see him 'anged for it, I will." The normally sweetly docile timbre of Nancy's voice was gone, replaced with an implacability which made her statement seem a certainty rather than a hope.
"We can use your help," Valentine said abruptly "Are you willing to go back into the castle?"
Emily protested. "But that is too dangerous. I forbid it. Nancy will stay with me, where she can be safe."
Nancy shook her head vigorously "I 'ave to go back to the castle. I'm not the only one who's looking for ways to bring the man down. There are others who must know that you are working in the same cause as we are."
"Other servants?"
"Yes, my lord. We may serve others, but we serve our own needs as well. Granbury has 'urt his last female servant." She touched Emily's shoulder and cleared her throat. "Begging your pardon, my lady, Granbury has 'urt his last female — servant or better."
"Then we're agreed. After I have Emily safely tucked away from his wrath, I'll join you back at the castle and we'll make sure the murders stop here."
"We are not agreed." Emily held back on the reins, stopping her horse.
"Emily, we have no time — "
"If you and Nancy are intending to risk your lives, then I can do no less. I will go back to the castle with you."
"You cannot."
"Why not? We will be married. Granbury cannot make me his wife, so I am safe enough from that threat, at least."
"Have you forgotten that he tried to — "
"I haven't forgotten. You can stay with me at night. During the day I will be a fiancee beyond reproach, and there will be no need for him to show his ugly side."
"I'm not sure 'e needs a reason, my lady. 'E seems to like 'urting pretty things." Nancy's voice was low, and Emily heard her grief for her sister clearly in the husky vibrations.
"I can't agree to these terms, Emily."
"Then I can't agree to marry you." Emily turned her horse around and Valentine let out a hoarse cry and grabbed at the horse's reins.
"Emily!" He held on to her reins and leaned in so that she could clearly see the dismay in his face. "This is madness."
"You know as well as I that you are only marrying me so that Granbury cannot. And now you want me to hide like a frightened child while you take care of the man."
"I cannot put you in danger."
"And why not? You will allow Nancy to help — to risk her life. But I cannot? I am tired to death of being treated like a pretty package that must be petted and primped, sold to the highest bidder, or locked in a tower. I will bring him down myself, if you cannot help."
"I am sorry I do not mean to treat you — "
"Of course you do . . ." Emily bit off her tirade. It would do no good now to point out to him that he treated her just as brainlessly as her mother had. Did he not think her capable of living a life without luxury? "We have little time, as you have so often reminded me tonight. Do we marry and return? Or do we return unmarried?"
"Emily — "
"That is your choice. Make it." Her voice was cold and betrayed none of the sick shaking fear inside her that he would rather not marry her if he could not then hide her away.
"We marry." He was angry and his tone was curt.
But Emily's heart was beating faster with relief and she barely heard the choked anger in his voice. She leaned forward, to look into his face. "Promise me."
"What!"
"Promise me. I know you will keep your word if you give it."
"I promise." He ground the words out. "I will allow you to put your own life in danger in a reckless desire to help where none is needed."
She ignored his uncharitable addition to the promise. If it soothed his pride, she could be gracious. "And then we shall — all of us — bring Granbury to justice."
"That we will, I 'ope." Apparently Nancy was none too sure that it would work, either, from the dubious tone of her reply. But she settled to her fate rather easily as she changed the subject with something approaching cheer. "Then a wedding it is, I suppose. Where are we going?"
Valentine did not reply. Emily realized with a sinking heart that he had no ready answer.
Nancy clucked her tongue. "I know a man who'll do the job. You've coin, 'aven't you? You didn't forget coin, I 'ope."
Valentine answered, his tone stiff, "I have plenty of coin."
Nancy nodded fiercely against Emily's back. "Good. Won't take long, now, and you'll be wed right and tight. Then we'll see what the marquess 'as to say about that, won't we?"
The ceremony was lit by a single candle. It was enough, however. She did not want to see his face clearly. Did not want to see his doubt. Her own doubts were making her heart knock against her ribs. She closed her eyes and reminded herself she loved him.
For years she had dreamed of this moment, but not once had she dreamed it as it occurred in reality. Cold, dark, furtive. The scrape of their boots, the rustle of rats disturbed before dawn by strangers too impatient or foolish to wed in daylight.
Their vows were whispered, so as not to wake the patrons of the establishment who snored, heads down on the rough tables of the inn. He had a ring. She could not see it in the dark, but she knew, somehow, that it was the same ring he had purchased for their elopement so long ago.
Tears blinded her as he fumbled it onto her finger in the dark. He had kept it — and not locked in a safe to give to another wife, but upon his person. What did that say about his belief that they would one day be together?
Even as she puzzled out the meaning of the ring, he took her hand. "It's done then."
He did not even kiss her. Instead, his arm came round her shoulder and he hurried her away, a whisper in her ear, "We have little time before dawn. We must hurry."
Before the break of day, they arrived within sight of the castle. Valentine, who had said nothing as they hurried back, stopped the horses, dismounted, and took the lead of hers, to muffle their return.
He looked up into her face. For one moment, she hoped he would say that he loved her. Instead, he said, "I would rather send you away, Emily. But I will not if you still insist on this foolish need to prove yourself more than an ornament by risking your own life in this enterprise."
"Is my life so much less valuable than yours, then?" she challenged him. He didn't answer, so she said, "There is no time to waste. Let's go." She didn't know whether she had won a victory or suffered a defeat when he said nothing more, but turned to lead the horses back to her long-hated prison.
Once they reached the castle, Nancy checked to make sure that none of the servants had yet begun their morning chores, and then motioned for them to hurry into the house. Emily gave Valentine's hand a quick squeeze and he went off to his footman's cot, even though they were now husband and wife, at long last.
He would spend the nights with her, now, yes, but since it was nearly daybreak, they had decided it would be wiser to prevent any risk of discovery so soon. Her insides churned tightly and she could barely breathe at the thought that he was her husband as she hurried with Nancy up the back stairs.
She and Valentine were married at last. True, the ceremony had been rough and hasty in the darkened inn, but they were married all the same. And now, if only Nancy could sneak her back into her room undiscovered, and the two of them could convince the marquess that he had been hit on the head by accident….
Her joy at having finally married Valentine was quenched at once, however, by the thought that she and Nancy now must deal with the marquess. They had devised a plan to blame the candlestick blow on Nancy's overeager desire to protect her mistress.
Granbury's back had been to Valentine, he should not question their story, but even if he didn't question it, he was still likely to be angry.
She hoped Nancy would not be let go for her part in their hastily laid plans, but she and Valentine both had promised the girl a better job at Anderlin if the marquess demanded that the countess dismiss her. She could not help a smile, no matter how dire her current predicament. She was now a viscountess and the mistress of Anderlin. It was all she had ever wanted, But would it all disappear in the morning mist?
"Off with your dress, my lady. The 'ouse will be stirring soon," Nancy whispered. Within minutes, she was undressed and in bed. "I'll set out your clothes for tomorrow and then just sit in the corner quiet-like while you sleep," the maid whispered. Emily nodded. She and Nancy had decided that it would be easier for the maid to pretend she had been attending to her mistress rather than trying to sneak back into her bed at this dangerous hour of the morning. It helped that no one had thought to lock her door in the time she was away.
Obviously, everyone thought she was well watched over by the marquess. She could only thank the stars that Valentine had been there to help. None of the servants would have come to her aid, if she had managed to scream. The thought was frightening, and she fought a sick twisting of her stomach as it preyed upon her mind.
Had she been a fool to insist on coming back with Valentine and Nancy? Granbury did not have a motive to hurt either of them, as he considered them mere servants. She, however, seemed to be a special target of his. And it was because of her that he was now nursing a painful bruise on his head. But, in all honesty, though she was afraid, she also knew that Granbury's desire for her would help them bait the trap that might bring him to justice.
She needed only to avoid being alone with him for a few days more and then there would be nothing at all for anyone to fear. She was suddenly very glad that Nancy had decided to stay in the room with her. Was she really expected to sleep? How? She looked around at her familiar room and tried to imagine it as it had been last night when Francis had been threatening her and she had thought herself on the verge of being murdered — or worse.
But all she could think of was Valentine, lying in the bed next to her as her mother lectured her and the marquess stared. A warm feeling began in the pit of her stomach at the thought of Valentine lying next to her. Miranda and the duke shared a room, a bed. Emily's mother had been scandalized to learn of it. She would never have tolerated not having her own spacious bedchamber, as befitted a countess.
Would Valentine, like the duke, want his wife with him through the night? She hoped so. She could have him in bed beside her every night soon. The thought was both frightening and exhilarating. Thinking of it, she fell asleep before she even realized that she was exhausted.
Nancy shook her awake, saying, "Lady Emily, your mother 'as requested your presence in the parlor." The girl's eyes were wide with fear, and her hands shook so badly that it took forever to get dressed and downstairs.
Her mother, unfortunately, was not alone. "I trust you rested well, my dear," the marquess said. There was no evidence at all to show that he had been knocked unconscious. Emily looked nervously at her mother as she answered the marquess. "Very well, thank you, after you left, my lord."
Her mother sniffed. "I'm glad to hear it. I was beginning to think your mind had turned to thistledown. I suppose last night has convinced you, now, that you will not be breaking this engagement off."
Emily, confused and yet relieved that her mother seemed not to know what had happened last night, nodded. Apparently Granbury was, as she had hoped, too proud to admit that he had been bested. "I've spent the night hours thinking things over, Mother. I am not proud of my behavior."
The words burned her throat, but she and Valentine had agreed that she would pretend to have accepted the engagement. It would be difficult, but she intended to do her utmost to convince both her mother and Francis. "Yes. I am sorry for the trouble I've caused you both. I know you don't like the term star-crossed, Mother, so I will put it out of my head, I promise. And I will be a dutiful bride in two weeks' time."
Granbury said softly, in a voice that made her quake with fear, "I thought we would move the ceremony up. I have sent my man for a special license."
"Oh." Emily frowned, pretending to be taken aback at the news. She turned to her mother and willed herself to be convincing. "But what about all the guests who were to come? What shall we tell them?"
Her mother's smile shriveled to a moue of displeasure. "I suppose I should notify them at once."
"Yes," Emily pretended to agree. "You know how Aunt Emmaline is when her travel plans are interrupted. She does get so unhappy. If you send a message quickly I 'm certain she will not yet have begun to pack."