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Authors: Jo Ann Ferguson

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BOOK: His Unexpected Bride
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“You should have known I would be unhappy with this match.”

Dropping onto the chair beside the settee, he waited until she was sitting again before he said, “Tess, I explained my predicament. To be honest, I doubt I could have arranged a marriage that would offer you such a secure future. Hawksmoor is not the heir, but he has a fortune of his own, and even before he went off to the war, it was said he was not the rakehell his brother is. I have heard of only one mistress he had, and if
on dits
are to be believed, he was quite faithful to her.”

“Papa, this is not the time for prattle. I do not understand why Mr. Knox played a part in this.”

“I told you already he was acting on behalf of the duke.” Impatience sifted into her father's voice. “There are few women willing to marry a second son, especially one who is scarred.”

“Scarred?” Her forehead wrinkled as she frowned. “Do you mean that tiny mark over his right brow? It is barely visible.”

“It is enough, compounded with his position as a second son, to compel many women and their matchmaking parents to look elsewhere. However, the Duke of Hawkington, your husband's brother, deemed it important for Hawksmoor to be wed. The duke and Knox are also in each other's pockets, so Knox must have seen this as a chance to gain the duke's favor.”

“Are you saying Mr. Knox arranged all this?”

“I believe it was his idea to stop here on their way to London.”

She came to her feet, unable to sit still while she swallowed the whole of this incredible scheme. “And Mr. Knox arranged for the special license that allowed Dr. Tucker to marry us?”

“That I know for a fact.” Papa picked up his pipe from the table beside his chair and began filling it with tobacco. “He let me know within minutes of his arrival he had obtained the license.”

Tess searched back in her mind and remembered now how Mr. Knox had been talking intently with Papa while she was greeting Lord Hawksmoor. At the time, she had given their conversation no thought, for she had guessed it to be of no more importance than any other when her father's friends called. They spoke of fast horses and luck at the card table and their comrades who were not present.

And she had been mesmerized by Lord Hawksmoor's smile. Only now did she question whether it had been an unusual expression for him or if he had barely smiled since because the situation was so bizarre. Mayhap it was just as well he did not, for his smile seemed to have a way of making her forget everything else—even herself—as she delighted in the charming twinkle in his eyes. If someone had asked her opinion of him then, she would have spoken of his polite demeanor and of his smile that had stirred something within her to a boil.

Now … now she wanted only to be done with Cameron Hawksmoor and everything to do with him.

Her thoughts must have been clear on her face, because her father put down his pipe, unlit, and hid his face in his hands. Shaking his head, he moaned, “What have I done? I thought to save both of us, and I fear I have sacrificed you and your happiness, Tess.”

She knelt beside him. Putting her hand on his arm, she whispered, “Papa, I know you did only what you believed you must.”

“Yes.” His words were muffled behind his hands. “Please promise you will speak to no one about what I have told you.”

“Cameron—”

“Most especially not him, Tess. There is already much anger between him and the duke, and it is sure to escalate if Hawksmoor discovers how his brother has arranged this marriage for him.” He shuddered. “And we would be ruined. Utterly ruined. Promise me this, Tess.”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I promise I will speak to no one about your being blackmailed into agreeing to this wedding.”

“And you will say nothing to your husband?”

“I told you I would not. I would do nothing to cause you more harm, Papa.”

His shoulders drooped even lower. “I wish I could ask you to forgive me, but how is that possible when I have done what I have done?”

“Papa, of course I forgive you. That is what one does for those one loves.”

When her father lowered his hands and looked past her, whatever he had intended to say went unsaid as his mouth hardened. She turned to see Cameron opening the door. His face was, for once, not expressionless. Instead it was tight with a frown.

Tess came to her feet. Her father stood, positioning himself between her and Cameron. Even though she was tempted to allow Papa to shield her from Cameron's fearsome scowl, she was sure he had suffered enough already in being forced to agree to her marriage. This was her battle to fight.

Forcing a smile onto her face, she stepped around her father and walked toward Cameron. She saw, for the first time, his friend Mr. Knox was standing behind him.

“Do come in and join us,” she said. “We are having a conversation before retiring for the night. If the wind does not lessen, I fear we all shall be kept awake while it howls around the roof. Thank heavens you arrived last night, rather than tonight, because you would have been soaked. If—”

“Yes, we were lucky to arrive last evening,” Cameron said, striding across the room.

Papa poured two more glasses of wine and held one out to Cameron. When he offered the other to Mr. Knox, Tess was astonished to note her father's smile had returned. Was Papa trying to hide his despair? Although Mr. Knox may not have been in a position to take note, Cameron surely had seen Papa hunched over, his face in his hands.

Cameron set his glass on the table next to Tess's and aimed his frown first at Mr. Knox, who was drinking his wine with obvious gusto, then at her father. “It is my duty as your guest, Masterson, to thank you for your hospitality. I wish to let you know Knox and I will be taking our leave at dawn on the morrow.”

“You and Knox?” Papa asked, his voice becoming a low growl.

“Yes.”

“Does that mean you are planning to leave Tess here?”

Tess looked from her father to Cameron, as she had so often in the past day. “Papa, I believe—”

“Hush, Tess! I am discussing this with your father.”

In astonishment, she realized Cameron had interrupted her. How dare he treat her as if she were too witless to have a say in her own future!

“There is nothing to discuss,” her father said, glancing at Mr. Knox.

Tess clenched her hands at her side. Did Papa fear Mr. Knox would spout out whatever he was using to blackmail her father?

“You are quite correct,” Cameron replied. “There is nothing to discuss on this matter. Tess would be best off here.”

“Do not lather me with such nonsense. She will not stay here. She is your wife. Her place is with you, Hawksmoor. Don't you agree, Knox?”

Mr. Knox looked up from where he was refilling his glass with Papa's best wine. “What?” Even on that single word, his voice was slurred, and she wondered if he was on his way to becoming intoxicated again tonight.

“Don't you agree a wife's place is with her husband? I believe,” Papa continued, “you mentioned that very thing to me earlier today.”

Mr. Knox set the bottle back on the table with a thump. His chuckle sounded forced, but he said, “I do believe you are right, Masterson.” He tried to slap Cameron's shoulder companionably, but his fingers missed, warning he was more fuzzy than Tess had guessed. “Sorry, old chap, but I believe I did say those very words.”

“If you will not heed my counsel,” her father said, “then you should heed your friend's.” He kissed Tess's cheek. “I bid you both good night. Tess, I trust you will give instructions for an early breakfast.”

“Masterson,” Cameron said in the quiet tone Tess was beginning to believe he assumed when he did not want to reveal his thoughts, “it would be better for Tess to remain here until I am able to work everything out.”

“What do you need to work out? You and Tess are legally wed, and that is that. The sooner you face that fact, the sooner you can build a life together.” He tweaked Tess's cheek. “And the sooner I will be able to bounce my grandson on my knee.”

Tess opened her mouth to protest, but her father walked out of the room as assuredly as Cameron had entered. Mr. Knox picked up the bottle and followed. Looking at Cameron, she said, “I fear Papa is much more accepting than we are of the inevitability of our future together.”

“Then he shall be disappointed.” He took her hand and drew her down to sit on the settee. “Tess, I suggest you remain here simply because the Polite World can be most unforgiving of any mistake.”

“'Twas not my error that ended up with us married.”

“True.” Leaning back against the settee, he set his arm along its back. Anyone walking past the library door would assume he was relaxed, but Tess was not betwattled.

Although he did not touch her, she was aware of every inch of his arm's length behind her. Some sort of energy billowed outward from him that she could not ignore. No one else had ever affected her like this, and she was unsure if she liked it or not, for it seemed to leave her too vulnerable in his company.

“Do you want to go to London?” he asked.

“I have always heard a wife's place is at her husband's side.” Her attempt at levity failed miserably.

“You agreed to go to London because your father requested it. Do
you
want to go to London?”

“There is nothing I can do here bring an end to this debacle.” She folded her hands in her lap. “Mayhap I can do something worthwhile in London.”

“What do you think you can do?”

“I have no idea.”

“Then—”

She came to her feet. “What do
you
think you can do? I suspect you, too, have no idea.” Grabbing her glass from the table, she raised it to her lips.

He seized her wrist. “Tess, do not make the same mistake of drinking too much as I did.” He lifted the glass from her fingers and placed it back on the table. His fingers loosened on her slightly. Then one slid in a slow, sensual caress along the inside of her arm.

“A single glass of wine will not leave me foxed,” she whispered, watching the sinuous motion of his finger.

Releasing her arm, he argued, “But you were not about to drink this wine for enjoyment. You were looking for escape from all of this that troubles you so deeply.”

She stared at him, but he refused to meet her eyes. “Escape? Is that why you drank so much with Papa and Mr. Knox?” Not giving him time to answer, she asked, “From what were you trying to escape?”

“I don't know.”

“This makes no sense.”

He arched a brow. “I fear nothing will until we work out a solution to this.”

“Do you believe we can?”

“I believe we must.”

Five

This is nonsense. She will not stay here. She is your wife. Her place is with you, Hawksmoor.

The words, in Papa's most authoritative tone, echoed through Tess's head as she listened to the steady sound of the horses' hoofs on the road. Every pace took her farther from home and Papa. She tried not to think how long it might be before she returned.

Cameron was looking out the window beside him as if he hoped to find an answer to all that troubled him. She was still amazed Cameron had not insisted, at the last minute, that she remain behind at her father's house. Mayhap he had realized he needed her help in rectifying this bumble-bath, even though she had no idea what to do to find a way out of this problem.

No one would guess anything was amiss with him, for his face suggested he did not have a concern beyond which cravat to wear at dinner this evening. Only his fingers, tapping in an endless rhythm against the bottom of the window, hinted at the turmoil within him. She wished he would share his thoughts with her, because they might then be able to devise an answer.

She glanced to the other side of the carriage, where Mr. Knox was dozing. His light snores could barely be heard beneath the rattle of the wheels. She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and demand he answer her questions. Why was he blackmailing her father? Every chance Tess had given her father to explain to her this morning during the hurried breakfast and the even more rushed farewells had come to naught. Papa changed the subject, avoiding telling her the truth. She tried not to think what might have happened that was so appalling he could not speak to her of it.

“I trust you have been to Town previously.” Cameron's voice was hushed, so as not to wake his friend.

Startled, for this was the first time he had spoken since they left Papa's house nearly two hours ago, Tess replied, “Yes, I have been there three times. The last time was to pay a call on my grandmother before her death.”

“When was that?”

“About five years ago.”

“Three times, but no trip more recent than five years ago?” He shook his head. “You might as well say you never have been at all, for I doubt you have ever attended any sort of assembly.”

“No.”

“Do you know how to handle yourself in such company?”

“Of course.” She raised her chin, but did not lean toward him to make her point. She did not want to chance bumping into Heddy's cage, which was next to her feet. If Cameron had been curious why she had brought it here instead of leaving it with the other bags in the cart that followed the carriage, he had not asked. “Do not write me off as a hopeless bumpkin.”

“Knowing the rules is not the same as knowing how to comport oneself when one is faced with a challenge among the Polite World.”

She clenched her hands together, glad her gloves hid how her knuckles must be bleaching with her fury. “I promise you I shall do nothing to embarrass you, Cameron, such as flirting with the Prince Regent.”

“Are you always so outspoken?”

“I am always this
honest.

“A perilous trait in London.”

BOOK: His Unexpected Bride
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