Jo Goodman (46 page)

Colin winced slightly as he shook his head. He laid his hand over the lump at the base of his skull. "No," he said. "I don't think so. You understand."

The law officer understood far more than Colin admitted. "I didn't suppose you would," he said. He looked at Mercedes and then back to Colin. "In your place, neither would I." He shrugged. "If you'll excuse me." He took his hat off the peg by the door, tipped it politely in Mercedes's direction. "You're free to go, m'lady." Then he was off, heading for the nearest tavern in the hope of gathering men for the search.

Mercedes blinked widely. She stared after the sheriff, stunned.

Colin said nothing. He was patting down his jacket then searching the inside of his vest.

Turning slowly in her chair, Mercedes raised her face to Colin. "Do you suppose they'll catch him?"

Colin had come up empty-handed.

"Where do you think he'll go?"

Colin had a pretty good idea. "Boston."

"Boston? Why in the world—" She stopped. A grin had transformed Colin's face, lending his features a youthfulness that had rarely been there even when he was young. Then Mercedes understood. "The passages you purchased..."

The grin widened. "I've been robbed."

* * *

Mercedes found it hard to credit that she was back at Weybourne Park. The bath that had been drawn for her should have been relaxing, instead she kept looking around her room, afraid if she closed her eyes it all would disappear.

In a purposeful attempt to enjoy these moments, Mercedes raised her arm languidly and began soaping it from wrist to shoulder. The desire to scrub herself clean was too strong and she ended up applying the sponge with a vengeance. The smell of the cell was in her hair and under her skin. It lingered in her nostrils even after she was clean from head to toe.

Mercedes climbed out of the tub, wrapped herself in a towel, and rang for assistance. The second bath accomplished what the first one could not. She leaned back in water that was hot enough to flush her skin and curl the ends of her dark hair. Resting her head against the lip of the tub, Mercedes finally closed her eyes. The steamy fragrance of lavender bath salts enabled her to breathe without inhaling the memory of her damp cell.

She slept. She may have denied that she was tired but the evidence was there to the contrary. When she woke she was in her own bed, dressed in a nightshift, covered with a cool sheet and pink and white quilt, and with no recollection of how she got there.

Mercedes sat up slowly. Outside it was dusk. The window was open and a light breeze eddied through the room, raising the curtains until they billowed like sails.

"Do you want dinner?"

Jerking in surprise, Mercedes bumped the back of her head. She made a face as she rubbed it. "I suppose we'll have matching lumps now."

Colin left his chair and moved to the side of the bed. "I didn't mean to startle you. I thought you knew I was here."

Her smile was rueful. "I barely know
I'm
here."

He pushed a strand of damp hair away from her cheek. "I understand. You've had quite a day."

"That hardly describes it." She looked around. They were alone. "Who knows you're here?" she asked suspiciously. It was still early in the evening. If he remained there was little chance that he wouldn't be found out.

"Everyone, I suspect. I told Mrs. Hennepin I intended to sit with you and she didn't raise an eyebrow."

"Are you quite certain?"

"Even Mrs. Hennepin can make small allowances in proper form. We're going to be married tomorrow, remember? I still have the special license."

The last doubt she had about the reasons he was marrying her vanished. "About the wedding..."

Panic paralyzed Colin. Only his eyes moved as he searched her face.

"I wonder if we might have it in the garden."

He leaned forward and laid his mouth over hers. She had to have known she had almost stopped his heart. He even thought she was reveling in it; certainly she was reveling in the kiss. Her arms were raised and circling his shoulders. Her fingers threaded in his hair. The taste of her was sweet as she opened her mouth under his.

The kiss lingered after Colin sat back. Her fingertips rested lightly on his shoulders as though she was reluctant to let him go. Her face was still turned up to him, her gray eyes clear and guileless and... trusting. He felt this last as a gift and a burden. He had asked for it but he also knew it was misplaced. Mercedes had given it without knowing things that could make a difference. It was this very uncertainty that kept him silent.

He kissed her lightly again then came to his feet. "You never said if you wanted me to ring for dinner."

Not knowing the turn Colin's thoughts had taken, Mercedes thought that he was determined to play the gentleman. She was not so confident that she could say she wished he might do otherwise. "Yes, please," she said instead. "I find I'm hungry. Is it so late?"

"After seven. You obviously needed to rest. You were exhausted." He gave the brocade pull a yank. "Have you slept at all these last few days?"

Mercedes shook her head. Unconsciously she drew into herself, pulling her knees up and raising the quilt around her. "A nap now and again and only because I couldn't help myself. I didn't want to sleep. It was as though I was losing my life there."

It was with some effort that Colin kept himself from approaching the bed. A touch now would undermine Mercedes's own strength. She needed to know she had survived the experience, not that she had been a victim of it.

"It helped when I could finally talk to Blue-eye," she said.

"Blue-eye? You mean Ponty."

"Ponty? Was that the pickpocket's name?"

Colin nodded. "Ponty Pine."

"That's rather odd, isn't it?"

"That's the name he gave me."

Mercedes made a small dismissive motion with her hand. "No, I mean it's odd that I never asked him. He never asked me, either. I suppose I appreciated the anonymity."

"I think it's safe to assume he knew who you were."

She shrugged. "I didn't think about that. I couldn't have told him the things I did if I had."

Colin was intrigued. "What sort of things?"

Mercedes shook her head. A vaguely rueful smile changed the shape of her mouth. "I'm not telling you."

"It's not as though your secrets are safe," he said. "If you recall, Ponty the pickpocket is the one who told me you were in love."

"I never said I told him secrets. That was your word. In any event, I don't believe we'll be hearing from Mr. Pine again."

Colin touched his vest pocket again, reconfirming the bills of fare to Boston were really gone. "You're right," he said. "And I wish him God's speed. If he provided some measure of comfort to you, then he deserves this turn in his fortune."

Mercedes felt precisely the same, but Colin's generosity suddenly made her suspicious. "You wouldn't have had anything to do with his turn of fortune, would you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, did you allow him to escape?"

Colin's hand went to the back of his head. The lump was still sizable and the throbbing had only diminished marginally since the physician examined it. "Of course," he agreed dryly. "I invited him to clobber me. Turned my back on him and pointed out where to strike for maximum effect and minimal damage."

Regarding him consideringly, Mercedes said, "You might have done just that."

Colin was saved responding by the arrival of Sylvia with Mercedes's dinner tray. He helped her uncover the dishes and set them out on the small bedside table. Mrs. Hennepin had prepared light fare for Mercedes. The steamy aroma of the roast chicken breast and small red potatoes filled the air quickly. He noticed Mercedes was leaning toward the table, eyeing the dishes as the lids were removed. It was a good sign that she was hungry. Sleep was not the only thing she denied herself during her incarceration. Mrs. Hennepin had despaired that Mercedes ate next to nothing of the food she prepared and sent to her.

Sylvia set the tray over Mercedes's lap and plumped pillows behind her back. Unaccustomed to the pampering, Mercedes protested that she was not an invalid. No one paid her any heed, talking around her as if being bed bound had also made her deaf. It wasn't until she was comfortably settled with fork in hand that Sylvia began to take Colin to task.

"Mrs. Hennepin says you've been in here alone quite long enough, and if you won't leave I'm supposed to chaperone." Sylvia waggled her finger at Colin to emphasize her point—the one the housekeeper insisted she make. "And Mrs. Hennepin also says that the next time you throw her out of a room she won't go so easily."

Colin sighed softly and avoided Mercedes's interested glance. "Traitor," he said to Sylvia. He held up his hands in surrender. "I'm leaving." Swooping down, he kissed Mercedes before she could duck her head. His action flustered Mercedes and delighted Sylvia. He backed out of the room, closing the door just as Mercedes was calling him an ill-mannered rogue. He did not think he was imagining a certain amount of affection in her tone.

* * *

A downpour forced the ceremony from the garden into Weybourne Park's chapel. Mr. Fredrick was visibly more nervous than either the bride or groom, although everyone agreed later he managed the rites with both gravity and grace. Chloe was particularly complimentary of her intended's performance.

Mrs. Hennepin wept copiously while Sylvia, wondering if she might ever plight her troth, shed a more discreet tear or two. The twins were amused by all the fuss although they thought Captain Thorne was rather splendid looking in his black morning coat, trousers, and intricately tied neckcloth. He did not appear predisposed to make either one of them walk a plank for their antics.

The gathering had to strain to hear Mercedes recite her vows, but Colin's voice was clear and fearless. The pronouncement that they were joined as husband and wife rocked them both with equal force. For the first time they looked at each other uncertainly, less confident of their future than they had been only moments before. Mercedes twisted the gold band on her finger and wondered what she had done. Looking at her now, Colin wondered that she had done it.

The silent expectation of those gathered moved Colin to bend his head and urged Mercedes to raise her face. Their eyes met. Held. Her clear gray gaze did not waver from his darker one. His had a question, hers an answer.

His mouth laid softly over hers. It was a chaste kiss. Reserved and reverent. Undemanding yet filled with promise.

When Colin and Mercedes turned to face their guests they were met with a silence more profound than the one that had prompted their kiss. Even the twins were subdued.

Colin gave Mercedes an arch look. He said nothing. The look was enough to convey that, had he known a kiss could have such a powerful quieting effect on her family and staff, he would have made a point of kissing her often and publicly.

That silence didn't last, of course, as they were rushed by well-wishers. Brendan launched himself at Colin, hugging him hard enough to make him stagger back. Britton also attached like a barnacle. It was not the twins' display of affection that made tears glisten in Mercedes's eyes but seeing how deeply Colin was moved by it.

A splendid wedding breakfast was laid out for the family in the dining room. The staff also enjoyed a celebratory meal in the kitchen, complete with champagne, thanks to Colin's thoughtfulness.

Mercedes let her heart fill with the chatter and excitement around the table. She had no regrets that the ceremony had been indoors rather than out, that the bride was wearing black rather than white, that proper form had been abandoned rather than observed. It was all insignificant in light of the way Colin was watching her. She wondered that she had ever thought his dark eyes unreadable. The look in them now was very clear. Had she ever been prone to blushing, her face would have been a beacon of color.

In many ways the day was like any other. Mercedes was intent on putting her arrest behind her, and she poured over accounts and inventories as if she had neglected these duties for months rather than days. Accompanied by Chloe and Sylvia, Colin escorted Mr. Fredrick back to Glen Eden and didn't return until dusk. The twins demanded his attention then and he complied, beating them soundly at whist even though they happily admitted to cheating. It was not until Mrs. Hennepin took them firmly in hand that Colin found himself alone with Mercedes.

He glanced around the library to make certain neither Chloe nor Sylvia was lurking in the shadows. Satisfied, he rose from the table where he had been playing cards and crossed the room to Mercedes's chair. A book lay open in her lap but she had made no real pretense of reading it. Her gaze had wandered too many times in his direction for her to put up that front now.

The morning's downpour had shifted to a steady shower. The occupied rooms of the manor had fires laid in the hearths to ward off the damp chill. Colin took Mercedes's book and put it aside. She didn't murmur a protest. When he held out his hand, she placed hers in it and came to her feet.

He had changed out of formal attire for his trip to Glen Eden. This morning, in his handsomely cut coat and tails, he had almost been a stranger to her. Now he was an achingly familiar figure in buff trousers and riding boots. He had removed his jacket to play with the boys, but he still wore a vest a few shades darker than his trousers. His shirt, for all that he had traveled today, was largely unwrinkled. He was careless of fashion yet the casual ease with which he wore his clothes spoke to his comfort and confidence.