The Gallows Bride (33 page)

“
Come here.” Peter tightened his arms, giving her a shoulder
to cry on. He cupped the back of her head in one palm, muttering
soothing sounds and kissing her forehead over and over as she cried
as though the world had ended.

“
Bring her in here,” Harriett said, holding a side door open
to what appeared to be a bedroom. Peter nodded and picked Jemima
up, carrying his precious burden carefully through the doorway and
depositing her gently upon the bed. He wasn’t going to leave her in
such a distressed state, no matter what Harriett wanted.

“
Do you mind staying tonight with her?” Harriett’s guess that
the couple were intimate was correct, and she knew from the
grateful look Peter threw her that she hadn’t offended him by her
suggestion. “She needs you,” she nodded toward Jemima, and gently
moved toward her friend to kiss her gently on her cheek.

“
Edward and Eliza are spending the night at the inn and say
‘goodnight’ to you,” she informed him as she closed the
door.

Once
alone, Peter wasted no time in helping a now quiet Jemima between
the sheets, sliding in, fully clothed, beside her and gathering her
into his arms.

“
I’m so tired,” Jemima whispered.

“
It has been one hell of a day,” Peter said. “Are you alright
now?” he asked, kissing the top of her head.

“
It is just the sights and sounds of the families the men left
behind when they were dragged off to gaol. Some of them might never
return, and that will be devastating for the wives and children
left behind,” she whispered, the sounds of wailing babies still
echoing in her ears.

“
Only the ones whose husbands were hardened criminals,” Peter
reasoned. “I know there will be some casualties from today, and
some of them will be innocent. A lot of innocent families will not
be driven out of their homes, and a lot of children will have their
fathers return home to provide for them. They will be pardoned for
their cooperation in answering the questions put to them. They will
be freed on a promise that they will be expected to keep out of
crime, so at least they can provide for their wives and children.”
Peter tried to keep his voice soft, but could find no sympathy for
any man who had chosen to work for Scraggan.

“
I know, and I don’t know why affected me so badly,” Jemima
sighed, wishing she could make sense of it all.

“
You have been through so much, such harrowing ordeals that
most people would have been unable to cope with one at a time, let
alone all together like you have had to endure. I am not surprised
you are exhausted and overwhelmed. Just rest if you need to rest,
sleep if you need to sleep, and cry on my shoulder if you need to
cry.”

Peter
rolled over until they were lying face to face so he could look
into her eyes. “I promise you I will be here, waiting. I will wait
for you for the rest of my life if I have to,” he whispered, his
warm breath fanning her cheeks. “I love you Jemima Trevelisk. You
are my heart, my soul. I will wait for you until my dying
day.”

Jemima
read the sincerity in his eyes and the pure emotion that turned his
voice husky and knew they were words spoken from the
heart.

“
I love you so much,” Jemima said, gently kissing the various
cuts and bruises marring his handsome face. “You have given me so
much while asking for so little in return, I don’t know how to
thank you; to convey to you just how important you are in my life.
When life was bad in Derby, you were my reason to keep going. You
were my ray of hope in a world of despondency. I adore
you.”

“
You want to thank me?” Peter murmured, trailing a gentle
finger along the curve of her bottom lip. His eyes were challenging
when they finally met hers. “Marry me? Make me the happiest man in
the world, and agree to spend the rest of your life sleeping beside
me, sharing your days with me, being happy with me.”

Jemima
smiled at him, her answer already in her shimmering eyes. “Of
course I will.” She was about to lean forward for a kiss when he
abruptly pulled back and studied her carefully with mock
suspicion.

“
Of course, I do expect you to work for your keep,” he added
sneakily, pleased that her eyes had lost some of the dark shadows.
“I don’t want you getting bored with life as a wife of a titled
man. I expect you to write my letters, help with the estate
accounts, run the house, do the menus,” he continued listing jobs
until Jemima whacked him gently on the shoulder. He smiled gently
at her. “I have sent word to Willowbrook that they are to place a
second desk in the study for the lady of the house, soon to arrive
to take her position as my wife.”

Jemima
frowned at him. “What would you have done if I had said no to you
just now, and told you that I couldn’t marry anyone who had chased
me across the country simply for the information I
held?”

“
I’d just toss you over my shoulder, and carry you off to the
church screaming and kicking if I had to. The upshot of it is that
you would be my wife.”

He said
it with such certainty that Jemima knew he most probably would
carry out his threat.

“
It’s a good thing I said yes then, isn’t it?” she whispered,
dragging his head down for a thorough kiss.

Within
minutes, they were fast asleep.

E
PILOGUE

He stood
beneath the overhanging branches of a large oak tree in the far
corner of the graveyard, protected from the curious gazes of the
milling crowd. Leaning against the rough bark, he stood in the
shadows and watched the guests arrive. He was only interested in
one.

After
several moments he shifted slightly and pushed away from the tree,
his gaze locked on the open-topped carriage that rumbled to a stop
at the gate. His eyes were locked on the red- haired beauty who
stepped down from a carriage and smiled at Sir Hugo
Dunniclifffe.

Her wild
tangle of hair had been coiled into a fashionable style that made
her look graceful and elegant. The pale muslin dress had clearly
been purchased for the occasion, and fitted her perfectly. His
chest puffed out in pride as he watched the elegant way she glided
up the path on Sir Dunnicliffe’s arm as though she belonged there.
He watched as she smiled up at something Sir Dunnicliffe said, her
face alight with such joy that she turned from pretty to beautiful
in an instant.

The man
longed to be able to walk over to her and for her to smile at him
in the same way, but he knew it wasn’t possible. Not now. Over the
past few weeks he had done what he had been forced to do in an
attempt to stop them from putting her at risk, and it had all
nearly gone so horribly wrong. She didn’t know how much he had been
involved - and must never know.

He
watched with a sense of loss as she disappeared into the church.
Even if he could get her to talk to him, he knew what she would say
and he couldn’t blame her. He had made such a horrible mess of
things, and had left it too late to put matters right. The distance
between them couldn’t be bridged. But it didn’t stop him loving
her.

With a
regretful glance at the church door, he didn’t wait to watch the
arrival of the brides, and simply melted into the
shadows.

People
from far and wide had travelled to watch the spectacle that was
about to take place in the small church nestled in the peaceful
tranquillity of the Willowbrook estate in rural Oxfordshire. The
excited chatter of the large crowd gathered outside grew as a
highly polished black carriage, with a large gold crest emblazoned
on its side, pulled by four perfectly matching grey horses, rumbled
to a stop outside the small wooden gate.

Anticipation settled over the crowd as they silently watched
two liveried footmen jump down from the carriage, drop the step and
open the door. The crowd waited for their first sight of the
brides.

Although
the church was too small to accommodate all the servants, friends,
relations and acquaintances who wanted to attend the weddings of
the year, those who couldn’t fit into the church didn’t mind
waiting outside, as long as they got to see the brides and grooms
later.

There
had been a lot of rumours and gossip since the broadsheets had
covered the story announcing the capture and sentencing of Rogan
Scraggan Junior and Rogan Scraggan Senior, two of Cornwall’s most
notorious and ruthless smugglers. Their capture had been attributed
to the extraordinarily brave efforts, and sacrifice, of Jemima and
Eliza Trevelisk, whose father, the magistrate, had been brutally
slain by the Rogan men. They had kept vital information out of
Rogan’s hands long enough to get it to the authorities, who had
been able to not only disband the smuggling operation, but capture
several French spies hidden in the country, as well as the network
of people who had been employed to house them.

The
Prince Regent had been so grateful for the part they had played
that he had offered them a reward for their efforts, bestowing both
women with a title and a small fortune to spend as they
wished.

The
noise from the crowd fell to a hush as the head of the Cavendish
family left the church and moved to wait beside the open door,
handing Jemima down the narrow steps as though she were a
princess.

She was
a vision in her pale blue dress, edged in delicate lace, the
flowing silk of her skirts emphasising her slenderness and tiny
waist. Her long hair had been arranged in a cascade of curls that
highlighted her beautiful amber eyes and long elegant
neck.

She
smiled hesitantly at Dominic, who stood proud and tall as he held
out his elbow.

“
Ready?” he asked, trying hard not to fidget. He had known she
was beautiful, but the woman before him was simply stunning, and he
couldn’t wait to see Peter’s face when he first set eyes on her. He
felt so proud that he almost felt he would burst out of his shirt.
But he didn’t, merely squared his shoulders as far as they would
go, and grinned at anyone and everyone.

They
stood and waited as Eliza appeared in the doorway of the carriage,
gracefully accepting the hand Sebastian offered. In a pale green
silk gown, also edged in delicate lace, she was as stunning as her
sister. Her hair had been styled more elaborately and elegantly.
The small wild flowers liberally dotted throughout her curls gave a
gypsy look that accentuated her gorgeous eyes.

Everyone
smiled at the smattering of applause, accompanied by ‘oohs’ and
‘aahs’ from the crowd as they jostled for position to get a better
look at the stunning brides. Children held out their hands, having
never seen such beauty before, trying to touch the pretty ladies as
they glided past, only to be held back and scolded by their
mothers, who wiped tears from their eyes.

With
broad grins, Dominic and Sebastian slowly escorted the ladies down
the narrow pathway toward the door of the packed church, escorting
their precious charges inside to their waiting grooms.

The
church was so small that it didn’t have room for an organ, but that
didn’t matter. The congregation fell into a stunned silence as they
watched first Eliza, then Jemima, glide effortlessly down the aisle
on the arms of two very proud men.

Jemima
felt the sting of tears as she caught sight of Peter standing tall
and resplendent in his elegant suit. His gaze was locked onto her
as he watched her approach with nothing less than adoration in his
eyes. He closed his mouth as she stopped beside him, and he raised
her hand and kissed the back of it. The dark pools of his eyes held
the wealth of emotion he couldn’t voice, and he had to cough to
clear the lump in his throat.

Eliza
drew to a halt beside Edward, who hastily wiped a tear from the
corner of his eye and stared lovingly down at the woman beside him.
He couldn’t believe this day had finally arrived, and the stunning
vision beside him was going to be his wife. Love was such a small
word to describe the depth of devotion he had in his
heart.

“
I love you,” he mouthed silently, watching as Eliza smiled
mistily back at him.

Eliza
smiled at the gusty wail of the tiny baby behind her, and turned to
look at Isobel, proudly holding her son in her arms. Hugo Sebastian
Edward Cameron Cavendish had been born two weeks ago, during a
particularly heavy thunder storm that was being heralded as the
storm of the year.

“
Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today
-”

The
words disappeared into the background as Peter stared at his future
wife as she stood bathed in the multi coloured sunlight streaming
through the stained-glass window at the far end of the church. To
him she looked like a golden angel as she stood and listened to the
service.

Sensing
his eyes upon her, Jemima turned and stared into the eyes of the
man who held her heart. All the pain, fear, worry and doubt had
been banished and replaced by the bright twinkle of absolute joy
clearly evident in the loving gaze he made no attempt to
break.

A
discreet cough behind them was enough to bring them back to the
vicar’s solemn words, and they waited for the moment when they
would finally bind their lives together; forever.