Lord Dearborn's Destiny (22 page)

Although the summer days were exceptionally long so far north, the sun was nearing the horizon when Forrest pulled into the yard of the first inn across the border, in the little town of Gretna Green. He had never been here before, but he felt sure there would be a blacksmith on the premises willing to marry Miss Winston-Fitts and Sir George over the anvil for a fee.

As proper as Sir George's notions were, he would surely prefer that more formal ceremony to a simple declaration before witnesses. Forrest was not so particular.

Jumping down from the box, he stretched, wondering again if he had been wise to insist on leaving Sir George's coachman behind. He opened the door to the coach and paused. All three of the occupants were soundly asleep, and his gaze lingered on Ellie where she half reclined against the far side of the coach, her head pillowed on her hand. Just as before, when he had appeared on her doorstep, he was aware of an overwhelming surge of protectiveness —a need to shield her from every danger or worry that might threaten her.

Watching Ellie as she slept peacefully, Forrest abruptly knew that he could not carry out his plan. Suppose he were mistaken about her feelings for him? He might be condemning her to a life of regret. If she would have him, he would marry her at once, but if she would not, he would try his best to forget and go on with his life. Forrest realized that he loved her too well to rob her of the choice. He could not take his own happiness at the possible expense of hers.

"Do you mean to sleep through your own wedding?" he asked in a loud, hearty voice, waking the sleepers. "We're here!"

Rosalind and Sir George stirred and sat up, blinking blearily. Ellie, Forrest noticed with pleasure, woke much more prettily, looking bright and refreshed, with a smile on her face."So this is Scotland!" she said, looking about her. "I've always wanted to visit it."

The innkeeper came out to greet them a moment later, and arrangements were quickly made for a wedding in an hour's time. Rosalind hurried inside to change into the dress she had brought along for the occasion, with Sir George solicitously at her side. Both looked excited, happy and a little frightened at what they meant to do. When Ellie would have followed Rosalind into the inn, Forrest detained her with a touch on her arm.

"I believe I promised you an explanation," he said with a smile.

"Well, it's about time!" replied Ellie, turning to him eagerly. "Now perhaps you can tell me how you came to be so intimately involved in Rosalind and Sir George's elopement. I confess, I have not been able to puzzle it out at all."

Forrest grinned down at her fondly. "Have you not? Surely you know your aunt well enough to realize that she would not relinquish a prize like myself without a struggle. As long as she was able to thrust her daughter under my nose at every opportunity I would have little chance to look elsewhere for a bride." He regarded Ellie hopefully at that point, but she was frowning.

"It was not all Aunt Mabel's fault, you know, my lord. You
did
display more than a passing interest in Rosalind. You cannot deny that."

The Earl gave an exaggerated shudder. "Well I know it! My own foolishness over a pretty face nearly cost me dearly. Pray do not take offence, but I fear that your cousin would have made me a most inadequate wife."

"Poor Rosie!" said Ellie. "She isn't extremely intelligent, if that is what you mean, but she does have the sweetest disposition imaginable. And she
is
beautiful." She regarded the Earl questioningly.

"Granted," he said. "But I've come to discover that I want more in a wife than mere beauty."

As he gazed down at her with a tender enquiry in his eyes, Ellie felt the breath leave her body. "What... what
do
you want in a wife, my lord?" she managed to ask in a faint voice.

"I want someone who can truly share my life —its joys, its sorrows, even its absurdities. Someone I feel in tune with. I want... you, Ellie, if you will have me."
 

Ellie's lips parted in wonder. "Are... are you sure? You... you are not saying this just to be kind, are you, Forrest?" She began to speak more quickly, before she could lose her nerve. "I really have had a letter from my grandfather, you know, and fifty pounds besides. I can go to Ireland whenever I wish, and not be dependent on my aunt and uncle any longer. Besides, how can you possibly... ?"

He silenced her with a kiss that left her no doubt about his feelings.

When they parted at last, he said, "I feared that you might prove stubborn. I should tell you that I am fully prepared to shout before all who can hear me that you are my wife. Then you will be quite trapped."

Ellie dissolved into giggles. "No, would you really?" she gasped. "You may not believe it, but on the way here, I considered doing the same thing to you!"

Forrest stared at her for an instant, then burst out laughing. "Suppose... suppose we had done so simultaneously. Imagine..." His words were lost in laughter. They clung to each other until they had laughed themselves out, finally catching their breath and wiping the tears from their eyes.

"May I take it then, that you will do me the honour of becoming my wife, Miss O'Day?" he asked when he could speak again.

Ellie nodded silently, her eyes still dancing, afraid that if she opened her mouth she would begin laughing again. "You... you may," she managed shakily.

"Well then." Forrest was suddenly brisk. "We had best speak to the innkeeper at once to see if we can make this a double wedding."
 

He took Ellie's hand and she accompanied him into the inn, her heart light as a feather.
 

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I
T
WAS
a very contented quartet that headed south late the next morning. Forrest and Sir George had decided to hire a coachman for the return trip, so that both of them could spend the entire journey inside with their new brides. Ellie and Rosalind were radiant, each revelling in the other's happiness nearly as much as in her own.

During the first day's drive, Forrest explained how he had prompted Sir George to elope with the story of his fictitious friend and all of them enjoyed a good laugh over it, though Rosalind never seemed to get it all quite straight. For her part, Rosalind declared that she had known from the first that Forrest and Ellie were perfect for each other.

"I knew you cared for her a month ago, my lord," she informed him. "Why, when we danced at Almack's you could speak of no one but Ellie, do you not recall?" Proudly, she recounted her matchmaking attempts on their behalf, earning chuckles and no small amount of respect for her foresight, all the more remarkable for its singularity.

With this and other reminiscences of the Season past, the four enjoyed a merry journey. Not until noon on the third day from Gretna Green, as they were once more nearing Huntington Park, did the mood in the carriage become a trifle less jolly.

"I say, Dearborn," said Sir George as the gates came within sight, "I'm deuced glad that you'll be with me when I face Mrs. Winston-Fitts with the news. What do you say we make our announcement as publicly as possible?" He seemed to have lost much of his stodginess over the past three days.

"An excellent idea," agreed Forrest. "That might save us from the worst of her initial reaction. I fear, Miss, er, Lady Bellamy, that your mother will be less than overjoyed at the results of our little jaunt."
 

Rosalind dimpled prettily. "She will simply have to grow accustomed to it, my lord. Surely, once she sees how happy I am, and how happy Ellie is, she can have no objections."

"Ever the optimist, Rosie," said Ellie wryly. "For myself, I'd as soon be out of the way when Aunt Mabel first hears how things have fallen out." Happiness had overshadowed any such fears during their journey, but now she was aware of a growing nervousness. Forrest apparently sensed it, for he gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.

"Come now," he said bracingly as the carriage turned up the drive. "What is the worst she can do? She will no longer have the authority to send you to your room, you know— which, by the bye, will be my chamber now." He waggled his brows suggestively at her, causing her to giggle.

"In that case, if she does, I shall obey her with alacrity, my lord," she told her husband with a bewitching smile.
 

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"I hear a carriage, I am certain of it!" cried Mrs. Winston-Fitts, hurrying to the parlour window for the tenth time that morning. She had been so fidgety for the past five days as to drive everyone else distracted.

Lady Dearborn devoutly hoped that whoever was approaching brought some word of the runaway lovers— preferably that they were now in Warwickshire, awaiting the Winston-Fittses there. She was sick to death of the whole business, though she wondered that Forrest and Miss O'Day had not yet returned. His eagerness to be off had convinced her that his goal had nothing to do with the eloping couple.

Most likely, she thought, he had decided to wait in Warwickshire until Sir George and his new bride could reasonably be expected back, in order to spare Miss O'Day the worst of her aunt's wrath. The woman had given ample demonstration over the past few days just how unpleasant she could be when crossed. Lady Dearborn could not blame those of her guests —all but Lady Emma and her daughter and, of course, the Glenhavens —who had decided to make an early departure. Even her assurance that she would instantly send along any news she received to Warwickshire had not succeeded in ridding her of the Winston-Fittses, however. It was plain that the woman had not yet given up hope of seeing her daughter the next Countess of Dearborn.

"Oh, oh! There is my Rosalind! Lord Dearborn has brought her back!" Mrs. Winston-Fitts exclaimed at that moment from her post at the window. "I knew he would manage it! Sir George is here, as well. Emmett, I know duelling is illegal, but perhaps you can have him taken up for abduction or some such thing. Such presumption! I wonder that Lord Dearborn did not call him out! And there is Elinor, too— how strange! I suppose Lord Dearborn fetched her to act as chaperon for Rosalind. He must care for her very much to have thought of it! But, la! Five days! Why, they must have been nearly to the border before—"

Lady Dearborn waited to hear no more. At first mention of her son, she was halfway to the parlour door, her puce shawl trailing forgotten behind her, to the delight of Charm and Token, who had once again sought out their mistress. Hutchins had already opened the front door when she reached it.

"Forrest!" she cried from the top step, attracting the attention of the four young people below her, who were clustered together in whispered conversation. The rest of the house guests crowded behind her in the doorway.

"Good afternoon, Mother," responded the Earl jovially, doffing his hat and sweeping the gathered company an elegant bow. "I hope we have not worried you unduly."

Mrs. Winston-Fitts, having delayed at the window, came up last and pushed her way through the interested onlookers. "Worried! Indeed we have been, my lord," she declared before anyone else could speak. "I am more grateful than I can express that you have brought my daughter back. Oh, my precious!" Rushing forward, she clasped Rosalind to her. "Whatever could you have been thinking of to use me so! I was nigh out of my mind with anxiety!"

"I am sorry we worried you, Mama, but I am persuaded it was for the best," said Rosalind, with commendable bravery. "I hope you will wish me happy as Sir George's wife."

"Wife! Wife? You are actually married! Then you were not in time to stop them, my lord? Oh, but surely we can have it annulled? Rosalind is but eighteen!" Ashen-faced, she looked from Rosalind to Sir George, who had draped a possessive arm about her shoulders.

"I think not, ma'am," he said placidly. "The ceremony was duly witnessed and perfectly legal. Lady Bellamy and I are in great hopes that you will come to regard our match with as much joy as we do."

Mrs. Winston-Fitts opened and closed her mouth several times, plainly at a loss. Seeking an outlet for her frustration, she turned suddenly on her niece. "You, miss! I suppose you knew of this all along and ran off to Warwickshire to avoid telling me! I shall have to devise a suitable punishment for such perfidy."

Ellie was unmoved by her aunt's threat. In fact, recalling what Forrest had said earlier on that score, she felt the corners of her mouth begin to twitch. Mrs. Winston-Fitts noticed at once.

"Do you dare laugh in my face?" she fairly shrieked. "You ungrateful hussy! After all I have done for you!" She raised her hand as though to slap Ellie's face, but the Earl quickly interposed himself between them.

"I will thank you, madam, to refrain from insulting my wife," he said in a chilly voice.

His words brought her up short. "Your... what did you say, my lord?"

"Your niece has done me the honour of becoming my wife," he repeated. "Ma'am, may I present the new Countess of Dearborn?" he asked, turning to his mother, who had by that time come up to stand next to him. "You did always say you longed to become a dowager, did you not?"

Lady Dearborn broke into a delighted smile. "Indeed I did, Forrest. Welcome, my dear. I could not be happier." She embraced Ellie warmly.

The rest of the company, as though freed from a spell by the new Dowager Countess's action, surged round the two newly married couples, offering good wishes and congratulations.

"Oh, Ellie, I am so happy for both of you!" exclaimed Juliet, hugging her new sister. "I prayed that it might turn out so!"

Mr. Winston-Fitts stepped forward to shake Sir George's hand. "Well done, my boy!" he said jovially. "I can think of no one who could make my daughter happier." He bent a commanding look on his wife and, after a few deep breaths, Mrs. Winston-Fitts managed to summon up a sickly smile.

"At least you will not be removing very far from me, Rosalind," she said, giving her daughter a kiss on the cheek. "You have captured a treasure, Sir George," she said severely to her new son-in-law. "See that you treat her as such."