Blackthorne's Bride (20 page)

He found the latch, then pulled the door open and jumped back as Castleigh's startled footmen leapt to attention.

"Oh, hell," Nick said, and then he was beside Jack. The two brothers dispatched the footmen in a matter of moments, and then both couples were standing in the moonlit courtyard.

"I think we should split up," Jack said. "If Sir Gareth is close behind Castleigh, we'll make it harder for them to catch us if we aren't all together."

"But I don't want to go with him," Ashley complained.

"Jack," Nick said, taking his brother by the shoulder, "we have to fix this. I'm going to go check on the priest. Maybe he's come around."

When Ashley followed Nick back into the blacksmith's shop, Jack turned to look at his new bride. "You want to go try and rouse the priest?"

She shook her head. "No. Do you?"

Jack looked at her for a long moment. He couldn't have orchestrated this muddle in a hundred years, and yet, while it was happening, he hadn't stopped it. He'd known this would ruin him, and yet he'd stood silently, allowing the priest to marry him to the wrong woman. And he had a feeling Maddie had seen what was happening and allowed it to go on as well.

He took her hand. "I say, let the priest sleep it off. Come on."

He pulled her into a run, leaving the blacksmith shop, her irate father, and Nick and Ashley behind.

* * * * *

Maddie couldn't fathom where Jack could be taking her. They'd left the small town of Gretna, with its cozy inns and houses, and were once again trudging over a dark road. Actually, it was barely a road. She doubted a carriage could have even traversed the small, muddy trail. She supposed that was why Jack had chosen it.

He was moving quickly, his hand clamped firmly around hers, forcing her to keep up.

Or perhaps he just wanted to be certain she stayed by his side. He hadn't broken contact with her since they'd left the blacksmith shop.

Maddie shook her head. The exhaustion was playing tricks on her mind. Jack did not want to keep touching her. He did it out of necessity or because he had forgotten he still held her—not because he wanted to.

He had wanted Ashley.

And she had wanted Mr. Dover.

Oh, Mr. Dover—

She focused on breathing deeply and moving her leaden legs, refusing to think of her lost fiance. She would never stave off the tears if she thought of him. Or of poor Ashley, left with the wayward Lord Nicholas. Ashley must hate her for running off. And Maddie didn't blame her. She was a horrible friend.

And the worst part was that whenever she looked at Lord Blackthorne, she didn't care. She was glad he was hers and not Ashley's.

That was, until she remembered that he was all wrong for her.

Maddie's legs finally buckled and she tugged on Jack's hand. "I have ... to stop," she panted. "I'm too ... tired."

"We can't stop here," he told her, looking impatiently from her to the road. "We need to put more distance between us and your father."

Maddie shook her head. "I don't care. I don't care if he catches us. I'm going to collapse if we don't stop."

Jack stepped before her, cupped her face in his hands, and Maddie couldn't keep her eyes from closing and from enjoying the feel of his warm flesh against her chilled face. "Maddie, if we just go a bit farther, we'll arrive at a town. We can stay at an inn. You can have a bath and a meal. You don't want our wedding night to take place along the road, do you?"

Her eyes popped open. Wedding night? But he couldn't possibly be thinking of—

Oh, Lord. He probably was. He was a man. And she was his wife now.

He was right that she would have preferred a cozy inn to a patch of brush beside the road, but she was simply too tired. She could barely stand.

"I can't, Jack," she told him. "I want to go on, but I simply can't."

He took her hands. "I have another idea. Can you walk, or do I need to carry you?"

Maddie preferred to collapse right where she was, but she agreed to walk. She couldn't make Jack carry her, after all. The difficult part was getting her legs to cooperate, but with supreme effort she lifted one foot and then the other.

Her eyes were on the ground as she concentrated on making her feet continue to move. Consequently, she plowed into Jack when he stopped. She stumbled, but he caught her around the waist. Despite the fact that her body was numb and weary, she felt her skin tingle where he touched her.

"Careful," he said, and she wanted to heed the warning.

The problem was, she didn't know whether she should watch her step or her new husband. Both might prove dangerous.

"Stay here," he ordered. "I'll be back in a moment."

Maddie realized she'd been staring at his mouth. Now that he was gone, she looked around. They were on the outskirts of one of the many farms in the area, and Jack was heading for the small farmhouse. When he reached the door, he turned back and gave her a small wave, and then the door opened and light spilled out.

Maddie turned away so as not to be seen clearly. She was embarrassed at how wretched she must look. She could have certainly used a bath at an inn, but as it stood now, she would probably have fallen asleep and drowned in the water.

She didn't know what Jack said to the owners of the farm or even how long he spent talking with them. Somehow, she found herself in a clean, warm stable, resting on a bed of straw. She was able to open her eyes long enough to see Jack looking down at her with a worried expression, and she wanted to reach out and tell him that she was fine. Tired, but fine. But the words were too heavy for her mouth, and her eyes slid shut again.

She awoke the next morning when something snorted in her face. The thing snuffled and wheezed, and she opened her eyes and stared straight into the snout of a rather large pig. She jerked back, and the startled pig trotted out the stable door.

The stable where she'd been sleeping was quiet, and Maddie realized she was alone. The straw beside her was flat and matted, so she knew Jack must have slept there. Through the windows and doors, she could see that the morning was fairly advanced. The sun was out and the steel-blue skies of Scotland spread out above her.

She stood, though her muscles protested, and finally hobbled to the open stable door. She saw no one about, despite the evidence that someone had been there. The troughs were full and chicken feed had been spread. Seeing an old cloth covering a pail next to the door, she lifted it and saw bread and cheese.

She smiled and reached hungrily for a slab of the thick, country bread. She was so hungry, she might have devoured the entire contents of the pail. But she knew Jack would need sustenance as well, so with a slice of bread in hand, she began to search for her new husband.

Ten minutes later Maddie wondered if she'd been abandoned. She'd walked around the stable and gone up to the farmhouse, but saw no sign of him or anyone else. She was about to make her way back to the road when she saw a pair of ducks lift into the sky. Maddie frowned at the tight group of trees, realizing there must be a body of water behind them. Trudging in that direction, she found a battered path and followed it to a large, clear pond.

It was now late morning, and she stood on its banks and smiled. The grass near the edge had been worn away, and she could imagine many picnics on the soft soil where she stood. Across the pond, she saw a few ducks. A mother and her golden ducklings made a long line of ripples in the water. To her left were more trees, one with a rope hanging off it, and she imagined children swinging on it in the summer. Still smiling, Maddie turned to her right, and her breath caught in her throat.

To her right was a naked man.

More specifically, her naked husband. He hadn't heard her approach, and his back was to her. He stood thigh deep in the water, arms raised, brushing his wet, black hair off his forehead.

Maddie almost stumbled when she spotted him. She'd had no idea the male body could be so beautiful. His legs were long and muscled, the thighs chiseled like a sculpture. His bottom was round and firm, the cheeks a shade lighter than his bronzed body. His waist tapered in at the hips, making the breadth of his back and shoulders stand out in contrast.

His back was hard and muscled, the water from his wet hair sluicing over the ripples and planes. As he lowered his arms, muscles moved, and her heart sped up. She could imagine that hard flesh under her fingers, could imagine those muscled arms coming around her. The thought made her mouth dry.

And then a cloud moved away from the sun, light filtered through the trees, and Maddie saw what the overcast day had been concealing. What she had assumed were shadows were actually bruises on Jack's legs and back. Some were old, turning green and yellow, and some fairly new and still black and blue. But all looked as though they hurt.

She must have made a sound, must have inhaled or issued a small cry, because Jack turned and saw her looking at him. The concern in his face mirrored what she felt, and he started for her.

"Maddie, what's wrong. Did your father—"

She shook her head quickly, unable to speak now that he had turned and she had the full frontal view of him. Lord, he was as magnificent from this angle as from behind.

He was also as bruised—no, even more so. His stomach, so lean and hard, was marred by black and blue smudges that extended over his ribs. His upper chest was relatively free of the painful marks, but as he approached through the shallow water, she could see scratches and scrapes almost everywhere.

Well, not everywhere. The poor man might be hurt, but she couldn't help gazing down at that one appendage so interesting and terrifying to virgins.

Yes, his manhood was there, and it appeared unhurt—not that she was any great judge, as this was the first of its kind she'd seen.

She quickly looked away, and Jack splashed up to her. "What's wrong?"

She reached out, grazing his shoulder with two of her fingers. "You're hurt. Jack, I didn't realize you were so bruised and—oh, your eye." Her fingers strayed to his face and the puffy, red skin next to one eye. She could see that he'd shaved this morning, and she could now make out old and new bruises on his jaw. She traced her finger down his smooth jaw and touched one fading mark.

"I'm fine." He caught her hand and held it.

When his fingers twined with hers, she realized that she was standing before a naked man and took a step back.

Jack followed.

"Perhaps you should dress," she said, looking behind her. "The owners may come upon us at any moment and—"

She trailed off as she looked back and he shook his head. "They've gone into town this morning," he said. "In fact, I asked them to let me know if they hear anything about your father or my brother."

Maddie blinked. "You told them who I was?"

Jack shrugged, obviously as unconcerned about this as his nakedness. He made no attempt to cover himself. "I don't think we're the first eloping couple to knock on their door. They seemed sympathetic, especially after I gave them a few pounds."

"You paid them?"

"The last of my blunt, too. I'll have to rely on my name and credit from now on." Jack winked at her. "Come here." He tugged on her arm, and she stumbled into him. It was an awkward tangle of limbs for a moment as Maddie tried to move away without touching him and Jack tried to pull her closer. Finally, he took her shoulders and held her still. "Calm down. You've got straw in your hair."

"Oh." Maddie giggled. Her stomach felt like it was in knots, and she couldn't stop trembling. "Straw." She felt like a silly schoolgirl before an examination.

Except her tutors had usually been women.

Clothed women.

Jack reached out, slowly, and Maddie felt his hand caress her hair. He pulled a piece of straw from the mess and then reached for her again.

"More?" she asked, her voice high-pitched and nervous.

"Mmm-hmm." His hand cupped the back of her head, fingers entangling in her long curls. "More."

He bent to kiss her, his mouth cool and moist from his earlier swim. He was still dripping wet, dampening her own clothing, but as soon as she felt his body press up against hers, she forgot about keeping her clothing dry.

She was hungry for him, hungry to feel that skin she had so admired against her own skin, and hungry for the taste of his mouth. She had gone too long without his lips on hers.

And when she finally got her first taste of him, it was like coming home. It felt so right and so wicked and so ... shallow. She wanted more. She wanted to kiss him deeper, more thoroughly, until she could not get enough.

She responded to his kiss by devouring him with abandon. She would have been embarrassed at her enthusiasm if she'd been able to think of anything other than the sleek skin of his chest beneath the pads of her fingers and the strength of his arms as they pulled her closer.

They stumbled, Jack pulling her forward so that her shoes were soon wet and mired in the sand of the pond. But she didn't care. His hands had slipped the shoulders of her gown down, and his lips were teasing her ear, her neck, the spot at the base of neck and shoulder.

Maddie shivered when his hands cupped her breasts, kneading them and pulling her gown down to reveal her to his gaze and the cool morning air.