Only Marriage Will Do (6 page)

“It will look odd, Lady Juliet, if my wife takes care of the bill.” He stifled a grin at her sulky look. Did she always get her way? “We can discuss the financial arrangements later. If we are to make an early start, I must go now.”

She nodded.

Not totally unreasonable then. He caught her gaze, warm eyes the color of dark honey. A man could willingly drown there
.
A short bow and he left before he got into even more trouble.

* * * *

As soon as the door shut, Juliet laid her head on the table, too weak to sit upright. What had this man done to her? Turned her world upside down in less than a day. Lord, what he will have done by the evening?

She rose, doused her handkerchief in the washbasin and mopped her face. If Glynis saw her hot cheeks, she’d think something amiss. Something called Amiable Dawson. The burning in her face could be the result of the memory of their final bit of conversation last night. She would never take a bath again that she didn’t think of it.

Or it stemmed from the brutally intense shock that had shot through her when he’d touched her hand. Thank heavens she’d been too stunned to cry out. Even now, his hand seemed to linger on hers, like a phantom’s touch. She shivered and went to supervise the packing, determined to hang on to her wits. Not an easy task since any proximity to Amiable seemed to addle her brain.

She gave instructions to Glynis then set about repairing her appearance. She removed her shawl, donned a wide-brimmed straw hat over her pinner and assessed herself in the mirror. They would be riding together for hours, so she wanted to look her best. No reason not to offer him something pleasing to the eye.

Her ribbed silk gown, a gold and floral meander print, was cut stylishly low at the bosom, although Glynis had just handed her a fichu to fill the breech. Well, such things could slip during the jostling of a carriage ride over rough roads. She smoothed the lace into place over her bosom then tugged it down a trifle. What he would see should hold his attention. Her breasts tingled with anticipation.

In the inn yard, the carriage awaited, her knight at the door. She flashed him a smile of thanks as she climbed in, but it faltered when he also assisted Glynis in and shut the door without entering.

“The day is so lovely, my dear, I thought I would ride a while. If you slept ill last night, perhaps you can stretch out and remedy the lack until we reach the next stop.” A short nod and he turned toward his horse.

Juliet flounced back in her seat, tremendously irked. Staring out the window, she angled for at least a glimpse of her knight. Her feelings for him were so very different from those she’d professed for Philippe. To see Amiable, to talk with him gave her such pleasure as she had never known with the viscount. Perhaps an evil lust had inspired her craving for Philippe. She had relished his kisses much more than his conversation. Now nothing remained in her heart for him save loathing.

Amiable rode into view and her heartbeat quickened. Surely, she had never experienced this bone-deep affinity for St. Cyr?

The carriage slowed and the bumpiness of the road increased. They had not arrived at the next inn. Nothing except fields on either side. Puzzled, she lowered the window to call to Roberts. A fat raindrop landed on her nose. She jerked back inside, fished her handkerchief out of her reticule, and dabbed the splash away.

The door flew open and Amiable scrambled in, damp from the sudden downpour.

“Oh.” A thrill raced down her body.

“Your pardon, my lady, but I thought you might be ready for some company.” He laughed and settled himself in the backward facing seat opposite her and Glynis.

“Indeed, sir, I have been ready for company since we left the inn. ’Tis you who have seemed in need of solitude.” She strove for a saucy tone. “I see a cold bath does wonders for your sociability.”

“You have no idea how true your words are, Lady Juliet.”

“Captain Dawson, I believe we should dispense with the formalities. Especially as we are traveling as husband and wife, I insist you call me Juliet. A married man does not need to call his wife by her title and I would be Mrs. Dawson, in any case.” She paused. “Hummm.”

“What, my lady?” So he would cling to formality a while longer.

“I just realized Duncan does still call Kat Lady Dalbury, even at home. How odd. Our parents never did such a thing.”

“Perhaps she enjoys the title.” His tone came out flat and he shifted suddenly in his seat.

She had been right. Something lay between the two of them.

“Then she’d want everyone to use it, don’t you think? She told me as soon as she met me to call her Kat.” She shook her head. “I sometimes don’t know what to make of their marriage.”

“What do you mean, Lady Juliet?” He settled back into the corner of the cushioned seat, arms crossed over his chest, trying to sound as though simply making conversation. Yet the sudden gleam of interest in his eyes gave it the lie.

“You are going to vex me, Captain Dawson, if you call me Lady Juliet again.” They must get beyond the formalities. If they could do that, perhaps they could get to know each other in a friendlier manner. Playful, even. Surely, he knew how to play?

“The marriage came about quite suddenly I understand. Neither one ever told me how they met. I only arrived home the day of their wedding and didn’t know about it at all until just before it took place.”

“When were they married?”

“Early April, the seventh, I believe. Katarina looked like an angel in an ice-blue gown, except rather nervous.” The strangest wedding she’d ever attended, to be sure. “I remarked she looked like she didn’t know where she was or what she did during the ceremony. I don’t think brides should be nervous, do you?” She would certainly never be anxious if he were her groom. “Excited to be sure, starting life anew with the man of your dreams, but not nervous.”

He shifted in his seat and crossed one booted foot over the other. “They married in early April? Katarina and her brother couldn’t have arrived in London before mid-February.” He stroked his chin with restless fingers. “Then it’s impossible they had known each other long.” His voice was so low he might have been speaking to himself. “Even if they met almost immediately after they had landed.”

“Oh, but it must have been an even shorter acquaintance,
Captain Dawson
.” She emphasized his name, hoping he would take the hint.

He simply stared.

Disappointed, she continued. “Duncan had been in Italy for eight or nine months. After the scandal with the Earl Ferrers and the duels, he had to leave London. He did not return until about the middle of March. So they could only have known each other for about three weeks, don’t you think? It must have been love at first sight.” The thought of her arrogant brother doing such an impossibly romantic thing made her smile. “Duncan would have been smitten with her immediately because of her hair. He’s never been able to resist a woman with auburn hair.”

She stopped, arrested by Amiable’s somber glare.

“Do you know the
exact
date on which your brother returned, Lady Juliet?” He straightened, speaking each word carefully.

“I believe in the letter he wrote to let me know he had returned, he mentioned he arrived around the sixth or seventh of the month.” Not an odd question, really, although his manner and intensity made it so. “I’m certain it was before the fifteenth, for he said in the letter he would attend our aunt’s masquerade ball on the Ides of March.” She smiled uncertainly at him. His brooding stare made her uncomfortable for the first time. “Perhaps they met there.”

“Indeed, perhaps they did.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the leather cushion, ice in his voice.

Shivers raced down her spine.

“Although the very next day Katarina sent a letter to me accepting the proposal of marriage I had made her before she left Virginia.” His eyes bored straight into her.

She shrank back in the seat, pressed against the cushions with nowhere left to go.

“That’s an unusual reaction for someone who’s fallen in love at first sight, don’t you think?”

All color drained from her face. He had not been oblivious to Juliet’s not so subtle advances toward him. She might even have cherished hopes of him offering for her. A remote hope at this juncture. If he put together her story with the information in his letter, suspicion that her brother had ruined his beloved Katarina became all but certainty.

Everything the lady had just related to him led him to believe Katarina’s letter to him, dated March 16, had been prompted by an attack on her. Nothing else made sense. The letter, which he had all but committed to memory during the long voyage home, had been tantalizingly vague.

London has proved first tedious and now dangerous. Last night, highwaymen set upon Jack and me while on our way to a ton event. Fortunately, the worst my brother suffered was a blow to the head, from which he seems to be recovering this morning. I, however, have been frightened nearly to death by this attack and long to return to Virginia. When Jack is recovered, I intend to beg him to allow me to sail back to Williamsburg if, my dear, I may now accept the kind offer of marriage you made to me in December. I must admit my feelings for you have not changed, but you told me if I ever had need of you I would only have to ask. I am asking now, dearest Amiable, if you will shelter me with the protection of your name. There are, however, circumstances we will need to discuss, for I will not hold you to your promise unwillingly.

Those few words had raised him to the pinnacle of elation. She had agreed to be his wife; he could think of nothing else during the voyage home. When his sisters had told him of her marriage to the Marquess of Dalbury, the devastation had been brutal.

Now, however, he could see, almost as eloquent as her written words, the ones she had not written. She had spoken of her brother’s wounds but not of her own. If she’d had pistol or sword to hand, perhaps she would have remained unscathed. Then her letter would have been full of her escapade.

Instead, it painted a picture of a Katarina now frightened enough to abandon her beloved brother and seek asylum in Virginia alone. Indeed, terrified enough to ask for the name and protection of a man she did not love. This from a young woman with the courage of a man and the skills and mettle to outwit most. What had she left unsaid? What “circumstances” had she alluded to?

Coupled with her sudden marriage to a man she could have known at the most three weeks, Katarina’s behavior sounded suspiciously as though she had been assaulted. Had she been raped by one of the highwaymen, she might very well have remembered his promise to her and believed he would understand and agree to marry her, which he would have done in an instant. He would wager a large sum these were the “circumstances” she wished to discuss.

So where did Lord Dalbury come into the picture? If Kat had been violated on the road, why would she consent to marry a stranger rather than follow her plan to come to him? Why, for God’s sake, would a marquess agree to marry a ruined woman?

Unless the marquess himself had ruined her.

His breath stopped. He stared at the lovely Juliet opposite him as dread descended on his heart and the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Katarina had not known the marquess long, yet she had been induced to marry him. According to the man’s sister, she had been reluctant on her wedding day, the marriage itself a sudden affair. All the facts pointed to the abhorrent conclusion that his beautiful, spirited Katarina had been forced to marry her rapist.

He clenched his hands so tightly his nails sank into his palms. Amiable bit back the gorge that rushed into his throat. Why had the first wretched letter from his father been lost at sea? Else, he would have been in London and perhaps could have saved her.

Slowly, he relaxed. He could not be everyone’s knight in shining armor. In truth, he had nothing but suspicions. However it had come about, Katarina had married Dalbury and left the country. As he could do nothing to help her at the moment, he’d leave it alone. For now.

He glanced at Dalbury’s sister. Her bosom heaved and she bit her bottom lip. What had distressed the woman now?

“What is the matter, Lady Juliet? Are you unwell, my dear?” He strove to make his voice express only concern. She was certainly an innocent in the matter. His rage he would reserve for her brother.

“I am very well, Captain Dawson,” she said, though her unsteady breathing belied the statement. “I simply did not know you were betrothed to Katarina.” A sad little smile appeared. “It must have been painful to hear your betrothed had married another man.”

“Yes, I hardly believed it when my sister informed me of their marriage.” The immediate pain had been brutal, though tempered somewhat by the passage of several days. After all, he’d resigned himself to her loss in December.

“Why would Kat do such a thing? Accept you and then marry Duncan. I’d swear she is not hard-hearted.” Juliet came to an abrupt halt, her cheeks rosy.

“Perhaps it is as you say, and they fell in love at first sight.” Such a circumstance was not wholly outside the realm of possibility. For Katarina’s sake, he prayed it was true. He leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on Juliet’s. Warmth streamed up his arm, filled his chest. Disconcerting yet wonderful at the same time. “Ours would not have been a love match. She wanted to return to Virginia and I became the mere means to that end. Of course, I would have married her and made a comfortable life for her.”

Juliet cocked her head and stared frankly into his face. “So why are you here in London, Captain Dawson? Why did you not wait for Kat to come to you?”

Those warm, seductive eyes.

“Please, Juliet.” He squeezed her hand and withdrew. “You have asked me to be more familiar with you. As you pointed out, we are traveling as husband and wife. By all means, use my given name. Amiable.” Although possibly a disastrous decision, he wanted a more intimate connection with her. The die was cast.

“Amiable.” She gave him a wide grin and sat up straighter.