Married At Midnight (13 page)

The hell she did; Victoria Haversham needed someone who would set her free once they were wed. And he was that man.

He'd talk to Philip Goodman first thing in the morn. She didn't seem to understand that whatever contract her agent might

draw up for her, no matter how solidly worded, it would be much too easily breached. Any man with suitable connections might render the prenuptial bootless with so little trouble it would make her head whirl. As an attorney Thom understood

how effortless that undertaking might be. By law, once a husband and wife exchanged vows, the wife lost, to all intents

and purposes, all rights over any property she possessed. Everything she owned came into the control and disposal of her husband—everything, even so far as herself—pre-nuptials be damned!

Thom was determined to ensure she was protected against such thievery. He refused to allow her to lose everything when

she'd labored so long and so hard to earn what little her father had bequeathed her.

Neither did Thom need her money. Thanks to her father's
generosity
and the success of his firm, he was comfortable enough.

But knowing Victoria . . . she was proud and wise and barefaced ... he determined it would take nothing short of cunning to coax her into accepting his aid.

Well, Philip Goodman owed him. With Philip's help, Thom intended to present Victoria Haversham with a bargain she could hardly refuse. He wasn't the man she bloody well would have chosen to wed were her circumstances different. He knew that. But circumstances weren't different, and he wasn't the least bit repentant for employing whatever Machiavellian tactics were needed to bring about the one thing he hoped would redeem him.

Whatever it took, before these nine days were through, he planned to be wed to Victoria Haversham.

In fact, he decided it couldn't wait until morning. He left the scattered letters where they lay, and found his coat at once,

with the express intent of paying Philip Goodman a midnight visit.

He didn't bother to tell anyone where he was off to, but George Smith knew his son very well. The old man smiled as the

front door slammed shut, and took himself off to bed, anticipating his first good night's rest in some time.

Thom would take care of everything, he knew, and Victoria Haversham would find herself in good hands.

"All's well that ends well," he chirped, and climbed the stairs to bed.

Lord, she couldn't imagine what could be keeping them!

Victoria tried not to pace, but she couldn't very well keep herself from it. The clock had last struck after five, and still

they'd yet to arrive—Philip Goodman and her spouse to be—whoever the devil he might be!

Her stomach fluttered at the very notion of what she was about to do: wed a perfect stranger.

Well, it couldn't be helped, she assured herself. No use fretting over it now.

She tried to recall everything Mr. Goodman had related of him—not very much. Perhaps if she knew more of him, she

wouldn't be so ill at ease just now. As it was, she knew only the basics; that his name was Thom S.

Parker, that the two

were close personal friends, acquaintances since their days at Eton. She knew that he was an attorney.

And not very bloody much else. It seemed Mr. Goodman had gone to Mr. Parker for counsel and had left his office with the perfect spousal candidate—Mr. Parker himself. Mr. Parker had, in fact, helped to draw up the necessary papers to ensure Victoria's position in this conjugal union. She might have doubted that particular arrangement, save that she trusted Philip Goodman's judgement to the utmost degree.

Besides, she'd never be so witless as to simply take a man's word in this matter of her life; she'd had the papers looked over

by objective parties, and despite that they'd been found to be in order, she'd attached her own addendums, as well.

At any rate, there hadn't been any need to continue the search, Mr. Goodman had assured her. Thom S.

Parker came highly recommended. And yet, Victoria would have felt ever so much better had she at least been able to interview the man herself. Somehow, it hadn't worked out that way—and here they were in the eleventh hour, and still she'd yet to set eyes upon him!

Perhaps he was a horrid little troll? short and squat, with a florid face and a bulbous nose, and he was afeared she'd be

repelled by the prospect of wedding with him? Well, she might have set his mind at ease at once, as she didn't have any intentions of carrying on with him as though they were man and wife! She was wedding for one reason, and one reason

alone; to save her inheritance.

She glanced up at the clock—one quarter after the hour—and fretted. Famous!. As it was, they wouldn't be arriving in

Gretna Green until almost midnight! And no, that wouldn't do a'tall!

They simply
must
be wed
before
midnight!

It was with no small measure of relief that she heard the door knocker, at last. Praying that it would be Mr. Goodman with

her little troll, she rushed toward the foyer, swinging the doors open to find that Godfrey had already answered the door,

and was even now allowing her long overdue guests entrance.

Philip Goodman entered first, brushing the night's fine mist from his coat. Her fiance entered next, and Victoria, much to her dismay, found she could merely gape from the doorway of her office.

Lord, but he was no troll.

In fact, whatever Thom S. Parker lacked in breeding, he certainly bore in good looks. He was a splendid specimen of a man, to be sure, with gilded locks that were brushed at the ends with a paler shade of sunlit gold. He wore his hair unfashionably long, wavy locks that fell like lustrous silk below wide-set shoulders in total defiance of convention—something that quite appealed to her, if the truth be known.

She drew in a breathy sigh as she stared, unaware that she did so.

Oblivious to her presence, the two men bade Godfrey announce them. Victoria tried to find her voice, to assure them that

it wasn't necessary, that she was perfectly
aware
of their presence already, but words wouldn't seem to come.

Bronzed and well hewn, like that of a common laborer's, Thom Parker's face was in stunning contrast to the pristine white stock he wore. Dressed in a somber black evening coat and trousers, he cut a dashing figure. And then, good Lord, those eyes— he glanced her way suddenly—uncanny blue, they hinted at the most devilish thoughts. Their scrutiny fair left her breathless.

He smiled, making her feel just the slightest bit disoriented. Good Lord, with no more than his glance and the slightest curve

of his lips, he'd managed to make her head reel and her heart leap against her ribs. In fact, she had the sudden disconcerting sensation of having walked into a bloody wall! She, who had sworn men were every one the same, one little different from the next, had somehow, in the space of mere instants, found herself abashed at how very
different
this one seemed to make her feel.

Much too warm.

And heady.

And dizzy.

Positively dizzy.

She was going to have to work at remedying such things. Resisting the urge to fan herself, Victoria pushed away from the

door frame. She focused her gaze upon Philip Goodman. "At last!" she admonished them. She turned to address the butler, keeping her gaze carefully averted from Mr. Parker. "Have the carriage brought about at once," she directed him.

"Yes, mum," Godfrey said, and bowed as he took his leave.

She turned again to address Mr. Goodman, studiously avoiding Mr. Parker's gaze, as she determined it most detrimental to

her composure. Lord-a-mercy, but it would have been so much easier to face him had he been a bloody toad! As it was,

her limbs were trembling. "We've no time to waste!" she apprised them both, trying to retain control, despite the fact that she suddenly felt scattered.

"Do forgive our tardiness, Lady Victoria," Mr. Goodman appealed, removing his hat, shaking it off, and clutching it before him rather anxiously. "I'm afraid we managed to run into a bit of ... bedlam," he explained, and peered up at his companion rather uneasily. Victoria didn't dare follow his gaze, though she had the provocation to, as she thought Mr. Goodman seemed a trifle suspicious.

"Bedlam?" she asked him.

His brows lifted. "Well, yes, but.. . nought for you to be concerned over, Lady Victoria. 'Tis bedlam of a personal nature, I assure you. Quite personal— and tedious—and—"

"Never mind, then," Victoria said. "I see."

"At any rate," Mr. Goodman continued. "I should like you to make the belated acquaintance of Mr.

Thom Ssss ... Parker."

Victoria wrinkled her nose at his emphatic pronunciation of the man's middle initial, thinking it rather peculiar. Perhaps he

was trying not to sneeze? By the screwed expression upon his face it was entirely probable.

"I'm so very sorry it took me so long to get him here. You see, I just couldn't seem to get myself together."

"Never mind," she said, sucking in a breath. She braced herself as she turned to her husband to be. "He's here now, isn't he?"

"That I am, Lady Victoria. Please accept my apologies, as well. I'm afraid I cannot allow Philip to take all of the responsibility here, as it has been quite a chaotic week for me, as well." She dutifully proffered her hand, and he clasped it within his own.

His gentle touch sent instant quivers down her spine.

She cleared her throat discreetly and said a little breathlessly, "Mr. Parker ..." And then suddenly forgot what it was she was going to say. His full lips curved into a delighted smile, and Victoria was wholly flustered to find that her gaze focused upon

his wickedly sensuous mouth. She forced her gaze to lift to his eyes as he brought her fingers to his lips, brushing the back

of her hand... with the softest lips ...

Good Lord, whatever was the matter with her? "You're as lovely as they say," he murmured. She was? "I am?" she asked, though she hadn't meant to speak the question aloud. And then she realized what she'd said, and amended hastily, "Why,

thank you!" Good Lord, that's what they all said! It was simply a pleasantry, she reminded herself. Surely her brains were addled! His eyes twinkled with mirth, and he chuckled softly. Victoria didn't allow herself the discomfiture of embarrassment.

His eyes—up close, so vivid a blue that it was unsettling—remained focused upon her own, and Victoria had the strangest sensation of having looked into them before. Some time long ago ...

A trick of the imagination, no doubt, as she certainly would have remembered Thom S. Parker.

"You're quite welcome," he replied softly.

Another shiver raced down her spine at the sound of his voice. Rich and low, it seemed to whisper directly unto her heart,

for the beat of it quickened unmercifully. "I—yes, well—'tis so wonderful to finally make your acquaintance!" Victoria stammered, and then recalled herself to the task at hand. "Now, then! Now that proper introductions have been made,

perhaps we should be on our way?"

"As to that, Lady Victoria ... I'm afraid I won't be going along," Mr. Goodman announced.

Victoria tore her gaze away from Mr. Parker. "You'll not?"

Philip Goodman fidgeted nervously. " 'Fraid not, Lady Victoria.
Something's
... er ..." He
peered up
at Mr. Parker, again somewhat uneasily. "It seems something's come up."

Something like panic gripped Victoria at the prospect of sharing a carriage with Mr. Parker. Alone. All the way to Gretna Green. "You'll not be coming with us?"

"I promise to remain a perfect gentleman," Mr. Parker interjected, reassuring her.

"Yes, of course," Victoria agreed, swallowing with some difficulty, though she was entirely certain it was true. He wouldn't

dare be otherwise. And certainly if she would trust him enough to wed him, she would have to trust him enough to simply

ride in a carriage together with him. That wasn't at all what concerned her. No, it was rather the prospect of being alone

with those bewildering blue eyes.

It wasn't until he winked at her that she realized she was staring once more. "Unless you feel we require a chaperon?"

he suggested with a devastating smile.

Victoria's cheeks warmed. "Oh! but, of course not! We should manage quite fine without you, of course," she assured

Mr. Goodman.

"Jolly good, then!" Mr. Goodman exclaimed. "And I believe I hear the carriage drawing up as we speak."

He extended his hand to Mr. Parker. "Thorn," he said. "Be well, my friend!" And then he turned to Victoria. "Next time we meet, Lady

Victoria, I expect you shall be Mrs. Thom Sssss ..." His face screwed and he shook his head, looking most annoyed with himself, as he finished, "Parker. Demme!" he exclaimed, and popped his hat back upon his head. "Felicitations to the both

of you!" he said. "And if you'll please excuse me, I shall be well out of your way." He hastened to take his leave.

Victoria blinked as she watched him go, certain he was developing a terrible stammer. Poor man.

Perhaps he was working

too hard. "Well, then," she said, turning to her intended. "Shall we go, as well?"

"Certainly," her heretofore unseen fiance said, and moved to open the door for her. "After you," he insisted, and Victoria had the sudden, most goatish thought that if she were to be forced to stare at another face across the breakfast table, it might as well be one so pleasing to the eye. And, Good Lord!

Thom Parker certainly was that. And furthermore, she refused to feel guilty for such shallow thoughts.

Men were so salacious and superficial all the time, were they not? Why not women, too?

Resisting the urge to run screaming up the stairwell, to lock herself away for the rest of her natural life, she smiled as she retrieved her shawl from where she'd placed it upon the banister, took a deep breath, and preceded him out the door.

She only wondered why such a man as he would agree to a proposal such as the one she'd offered. It was a mystery, indeed. Perhaps he was a spendthrift, anticipating an endless source of funds. If so, he was sorely mistaken, as she was quite frugal

with her finances, and she wasn't about to hand him an open bank draft.

Or perhaps he was simply a womanizer, who found a commitment free marriage wholly desirable. In such case, she could

only hope he would be discreet. She certainly couldn't expect him to remain faithful when she never intended to share his bed. Her face burned at the very notion.

At any rate, it was far too late to turn back now.

Marrying Thom Parker was the only thing left to do.