Blackthorne's Bride (17 page)

He glanced at Nick and saw that his brother was watching him.

"Perhaps I should be the one to ask you what happened last night. I might be guilty of theft, but I stole for a good cause."

"Let it go," Jack said, looking at the rolling fields of crops they were passing. "You and your good causes almost got us all killed last night."

"And saved us all this morning." Nick grinned and indicated the carriage.

Jack suppressed a grin. "You're a regular Robin Hood."

"And I guess that makes you Little John."

* * * * *

"Do you think he's asleep?" Maddie whispered to Ashley, who was seated beside her in the carriage. They'd just stopped to change horses, and she'd been deathly afraid Mr. Dover would wake. She'd been waiting to speak to Ashley alone for most of the day, but the Martingale brothers would not let them out of the carriage for more than two minutes, and across from them, Mr. Dover had remained steadfastly awake and talkative.

While he'd droned on about schedules and lost time and distances from Huntingdon to Stamford, Maddie allowed her mind to wander and wished for privacy in order to talk with Ashley.

And now it appeared she would finally have her chance. Mr. Dover's glasses were askew on his face and his head listed to one side. He breathed in and out heavily, arms crossed over his chest, which contracted and expanded with every breath.

"Is he asleep?" Maddie whispered.

"I think so," Ashley whispered back. "Thank God. If I never hear another word about schedules and lost time, I'll be a happy woman."

"Me, too," Maddie agreed.

"Good luck. You're about to marry the man."

Maddie frowned. Her friend had a point. A lifetime with Mr. Dover was looking a bit long at the moment. A lifetime of "Dinner is now exactly three minutes late" or "Tea is precisely six seconds early."

And what would he be like with the children? Lord, she remembered that he already had two small children! In a matter of a day or so she would be a mother and a wife.

Maddie shook her head. Best not to think of it until she had to. If she had to.

She bit her lip. There was that optimism again.

"I asked Lord Blackthorne about the Duke of Bleven this morning," she whispered to Ashley.

Ashley looked away from the windows. "Don't tell me. Lord Nicholas did something to offend the duke."

Maddie nodded. "He told you?"

"No. I know the idiot man well enough to guess."

Maddie let those words sink in between them.

"And how well do you know Lord Nicholas? You never mentioned him before."

Ashley shrugged and looked back out the window. Maddie had known Ashley long enough to know her friend didn't lie. Evading a question was as close as Ashley Brittany came to perfidy.

"Ashley?" Maddie said, unwilling to let the matter go. "Was there—
is
there—something between you and Lord Nicholas?"

Ashley looked at her curiously. "I'll answer if you do."

Maddie blinked. "No, there's nothing between Lord Nicholas and I. Why would you think ... ? Oh. I see." She swallowed. "You're not asking about Lord Nicholas."

Ashley shook her head. "And don't lie to me."

Maddie bit her lip and looked down at her fingers. "I don't think I should answer that question. I haven't been a very good friend."

"Why?" Ashley asked. "Did you kiss Blackthorne?"

Maddie peeked at Mr. Dover, noted the man was still asleep, his glasses now perched precariously on the end of his nose.

"I have."

"More than once?"

Maddie nodded, then looked at her friend. "I'm sorry. I know he's your fiance, and I didn't want to do it, but I—I couldn't seem to make myself not do it."

"I know what you mean."

Maddie's mouth dropped open. She had expected anger, outrage, or hurt. Not understanding. "You know what I mean?"

"Lord Nicholas affects me the same way. I tell myself I'm not going to kiss him ever again, that I'm not even going to think of him, but I can't seem to help it."

"But you have to help it, Ashley, you're going to marry Lord Blackthorne."

Ashley raised a blond brow at her. "And you have to help it, Maddie, you're going to marry that expert dog breeder." She gestured to Mr. Dover, and Maddie sighed.

"It's for the best," she said with a sigh. "Lord Blackthorne and I would never suit."

"Nor Lord Nicholas and I."

Maddie blinked. "But Lord Nicholas and you would suit perfectly. You two are exactly alike."

"Madeleine Fullbright, I resent that. I am nothing like that odious lout."

"If you say so."

Ashley crossed her arms defiantly. "Fine. And if we are alike—just a tiny bit—do you think that's a good thing?"

Maddie hadn't considered the matter that way—the difficulties of marrying someone too much like oneself. Was Mr. Dover very much like her? She glanced at him, noted the way his nostrils flared with his soft snores, and decided no, they had commonalities but were not terribly alike.

They were not as different as, say, she and Lord Blackthorne, and perhaps that meant she and Mr. Dover would make a good match.

"Ashley," she began, "do you think it's better to marry someone like you or someone opposite you? My father always says like should marry like."

" 'Similar interests and similar dispositions,' " Ashley quoted. "Yes, I've heard him say that."

"Do you agree?"

Ashley shrugged. "I don't know. I think every marriage has its challenges." She gave Maddie a long look. "I think the real question is, why are you asking?"

Maddie looked down at her fingers.

"Say the word, Maddie, and I won't marry Blackthorne," Ashley whispered. "If you care for him, then I won't be the one to stand in your way."

The one to stand in your way.

And who or what would stand in her way, then? Certainly Mr. Dover, to whom she'd made a promise. Certainly her father, who was undoubtedly on his way to intercept them at this very moment. Certainly Lord Blackthorne, who seemed to look forward to a marriage between himself and Ashley.

Blackthorne might have kissed her and touched her this morning, but he hadn't proposed marriage, and she was under no illusion that he would do so. Ashley was the beautiful one. Ashley was the adventurous one. Ashley was the woman every man wanted.

And what would happen to Ashley if they were caught before they reached Gretna Green? What would happen to herself, for that matter? Along with their cousins Catie and Josie, she and Ashley had always been the girls Society whispered about and shook its head at. They were too wild for their own good. They set a bad example.

But Maddie knew that if she did not make it to Gretna Green in time to marry, she would never go about in Society again. It was one thing to have Society whisper about you. It was quite another to have them hurl insults and blatantly cut you.

She couldn't allow that to happen to Ashley. And how could it be prevented except through Ashley marrying? Her friend had pointed her long, slender finger at Lord Blackthorne, and the man—in what was surely a rare moment—had shown honor and agreed.

"Ashley, you're not standing in my way," Maddie finally said. "I know this started out as an adventure, but it's become far more serious. You must marry Blackthorne."

Ashley blinked and studied her face. "I know. But that means you must marry Mr. Dover."

Maddie wanted to say she didn't
have
to do anything. But though she cared little for herself, she did care for her family. She had no desire to shame them.

And she did care for her charitable work. How could it continue if she were shunned from Society—the men and women who funded so much of her benevolence?

The answer was that it couldn't. Which meant she must marry Mr. Dover, and Ashley must marry Lord Blackthorne, and Lord Nicholas must, well ... there was probably no help for Lord Nicholas.

"Maddie?" Ashley said.

She turned to see her friend looking at her with concern.

"Will you marry Mr. Dover? Because I'm not doing this if you're not."

Maddie's stomach clenched and sank. She felt ill and exhausted and trapped. She wished she could go back to her life before all the marriage proposals. She wished she could go back to the time when her biggest worry was whether a rain shower would ruin her plans to ride in Hyde Park.

And most of all, she wished she had never met Lord Blackthorne. Then she might have been happy with Mr. Dover. She might have been content in a passionless marriage, had she never known she could feel what she felt with Jack. She longed to go back and start over.

But it was too late for that now. It was too late, and she knew that no matter how hard she tried to smile and think positively, she was never going to be truly happy.

Never.

Not without Jack holding her in her arms.

Maddie took a breath and smiled sadly at Ashley. "I am going to marry Mr. Dover, and you'll marry Lord Blackthorne. Let's have a double wedding."

"Oh, yes!" Ashley exclaimed, clasping Maddie's hand in hers. "This might even be fun if you're standing by my side."

Maddie squeezed her hand. "I feel the same."

"It's decided, then. Together until the end."

Maddie swallowed. The words felt ominous. "Together until the end," she echoed.

* * * * *

For Maddie, the rest of the trip went by in a blur of rolling fields, moors, dales, and posting houses. The speed set by the Martingale brothers was punishing for all involved. She and Ashley were irritable and exhausted. In the jouncing carriage, sleep was impossible, and even if she did doze off, the frequent stops woke her again.

Maddie was hungry and thirsty and had to use the privy, but Lord Blackthorne and Lord Nicholas were immune to her pleas to escape the confines of the carriage. She knew they were right. Bleven or her father or the owners of their stolen carriage could be right on their heels. They had to keep going.

Mr. Dover, cheerful now that they had made up for so much lost time, echoed that sentiment frequently. "We must keep going," he told her when she complained that her bottom was pins and needles and her head ached. She'd given him a glowering look, but it hadn't shut him up until, near Scotch Corner, Ashley threatened to stuff her handkerchief down his throat if he spoke again.

The rest of that day had been blissfully quiet, and she stared out the window as they passed through Brough and Penrith. She knew they were close now. They need only reach Carlisle and then they could slip over the Scottish border. Carlisle was only eight miles from Gretna Green.

As noon came and went on the last day of their trip, Maddie's heart began to pound. She looked at Mr. Dover, staring silently out the window, pocket watch in hand, and knew that tonight she would share his marriage bed.

But she was determined not to marry or share his bed in the state she was in at present. The truth of the matter was that she stank. She and Ashley both, and no doubt Mr. Dover too, though she didn't want to get close enough to find out.

When Lord Nicholas called out that they were five miles from Carlisle, she pounded on the roof. A moment later Lord Blackthorne's face, impatient and annoyed, appeared. He too looked a bit worse for their hard travels. He had the beginnings of a black beard and his eyes were bloodshot. His skin was gray and his clothing haggard. One look at him made up Maddie's mind.

"We're stopping in Carlisle," she said. "I need a bath and so does Ashley, and if that stench is what I think it is, so do you two."

Blackthorne shook his head. "We don't—"

"Have time," Maddie and Ashley said together.

He scowled at them and made to close the hatch, but Maddie shoved her hand in the way.

"We have acquiesced to your timetable and made the most of this grueling journey without complaint."

He barked laughter at this last bit, but Maddie went on.

"And now I—we, your fiancee and I—are asking for a short time in which to prepare ourselves for the night to come. Surely, you can understand our desire to bathe before we ..." She trailed off and made a gesture to the effect that he could fill in the rest.

But, as usual, Lord Blackthorne, didn't play by the rules. "Before we what?" he asked.

Maddie heaved a sigh. "Before you and Miss Brittany ... before you are man and wife." She stammered the last and felt her cheeks redden. Lord, she hated him sometimes. Most times.

"Before we share the marriage bed," Ashley broke in unabashedly. "Maddie thought you might like me to wash off some of this reek before you bed me. It might be more pleasant for you to—"

"Ashley, we understand!" Maddie said loudly before her friend could go on. She looked at Lord Blackthorne, and he looked back steadily.

"Oh, let 'em clean up, Jack," she heard Lord Nicholas say. "We can afford to give them a quarter of an hour."

"A half an hour," Ashley demanded, "and something more substantial to eat than bread and cheese."