The Scarlet Bride (5 page)

“Hunt a stag? Pleasant? What about love?” Brenna grimaced. “I’d rather marry a pirate or highwayman. At least then I’ll not fall into a bored stupor every time I’m in my husband’s presence.”

Irked over her flat refusal to consider the idea, Simon pushed to his feet. “And where is this interesting husband-to-be of yours? You certainly have not brought him around for tea. He hasn’t begged Father for your hand. You’d refuse a future duke in order to seek a love that may never happen?”

Brenna looked as if she’d been slapped. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him from beneath a fringe of black hair. “When did you become so cruel? If Gabriel were home, he’d put a stop to this travesty.”

Simon winced. He’d adored his little sister from the moment he first saw her tiny red face and bald head. He’d always had her interests at heart. She might not realize it now, but he knew that once she was wed, she’d settle in to her new life and be happy. It was what he sincerely wanted for her.

His defenses rose. “That is not my intention. And fortunately, our brother is not here for you to twist around your finger. If I have my way, you will be wed before he returns from wherever his most recent adventure has gotten him off to.”

The comment did nothing to settle her anger. Instead, she pressed her open palms briefly to her forehead. “You say cruelty isn’t your intention, yet you’d wed me to Lord Abbot?” She turned her back on her father. “I see the only way to remove myself from this travesty is to find a highwayman or pirate and get myself caught with his child.” She shot Simon one last scowl. “Then the marquess will refuse to wed me.”

With a huff, she stalked to the door. Then with a voice high enough for the entire household to hear, she said, “Mary, collect my most expensive jewels and call for a coach. We have some dangerous roads to travel!”

Both father and son looked at each other with alarm as Brenna’s stomping footsteps faded into the bowels of the house. “You don’t think she would actually seek out a highwayman, do you?” Simon asked, uncertain. With his sister, it was impossible to know how far she’d go to get her way. He hoped the threat was anger based and wouldn’t lead her into a situation she’d regret.

“No telling with your sister. Thankfully, we will be away in the country for a few days. That should be enough time to calm her.” Father stood. He adjusted his coat and glanced at the open door. There was worry in his eyes. Brenna seldom made threats, but when she did, they usually turned out badly for them all. “However, I shall make sure the coachmen know their heads are on the block if they dare think of taking her anywhere outside the city boundaries.”

W
hat do you think of this one?” Bess asked. The former courtesan shook out the deep green gown and held it up to herself for inspection. The cloth shimmered in the daylight and glowed against her flawless skin.

Laura politely examined the gown and nodded. “It’s lovely. The color suits you.” With Bess’s raven hair and the deep emerald of the gown, the effect was stunning.

“You should wear that to the party. The men will not be able to take their eyes from you,” Jane said, and then frowned and shook her blond head. “No. It’s much too formal for the garden party. You must save it for a grander occasion. Your wedding perhaps?”

Bess smiled knowingly. “Perhaps. Though, I’d much rather wear the cream for that. It portrays a touch of innocence.”

The courtesans had returned from shopping a half hour earlier and were twittering about their purchases. While they were away, Laura had enjoyed the quiet few hours alone. She’d read two chapters of a novel she found shelved in the sitting room and taken a walk in the garden. She
hadn’t realized how used to the other women she’d become until they were absent.

The silence had been deafening. But the last year of guards and locked doors made the quiet all the more precious. She’d truly enjoyed having a few hours to herself.

Sitting alone in the small garden had been heavenly.

She’d never had sisters. After her mother died when she was thirteen, her father was her main source of companionship. Though she did have a few friends in the village, her father’s long illness had kept her from enjoying too many social gatherings. And without a dowry, she’d never had a serious beau come courting.

Her meeting with the earl had been accidental. Had she returned home a few minutes earlier, or later, they wouldn’t have met on the trail and her life wouldn’t have taken such an awful downward turn.

Now she was overwhelmed with women. They were arriving daily. Every time she spun about, she tripped over a new one.

Truthfully, their kindness and endless chatter kept her mind occupied and off darker thoughts. This in itself was a blessing.

“We shall let Laura choose.”

The sound of her name brought her attention back around. She looked up to find Mariette and Bess holding up two gowns, one rose with cream lace trim, and the other pale blue with white ribbon woven through the bodice.

At her questioning glance, Bess smiled. “Which dress do you think Mariette should wear to the party?” She pointed to the blue in front of Mariette while she held the rose up. “She wants to make a positive impression on her future husband.”

Mariette flushed. Two years working as a courtesan and she was still painfully shy. Impoverished, her mother had taken advantage of her daughter’s dark beauty and had arranged for Mariette to take a lover—a married man with a dozen children and still enough energy to enjoy a mistress.

Looking at her now, it was impossible to imagine the young woman as a seductress.

“Hmm.” Laura lifted her clasped hands to her chin and frowned. Both gowns suited Mariette nicely, but one more so than the other. “I think the rose. It goes well with your coloring and brings out the delightful pink in your cheeks.”

Bess, Jane, and Mariette agreed and began the process of picking out fripperies and slippers to match their gowns. Soon every surface of the parlor was covered with discarded frilly items.

Miss Eva made a brief appearance in the open doorway, smiled sympathetically at Laura, who was nearly buried behind the open boxes, and escaped to another part of the house.

When the conversation turned to wedding nights and lacy nightwear, Laura excused herself. She felt the overwhelming need to remove herself from that conversation.

Walking aimlessly through the house, Laura tried to find something to occupy herself. The bread was baked, the washing was finished, and the mending was completed yesterday. She ran a fingertip across a gleaming picture frame. The house was well kept by a small staff, so her skills with a dust cloth were not needed.

Sitting down on the stairs, she sighed. It had been two weeks since her escape and the town house had begun to feel cloying. Miss Eva was wonderful, but the lack of purpose lost its charm as the days passed slowly by.

Desperate to venture out, well covered, of course, Laura felt the tug of freedom beyond the town house and its tiny garden. But where could she go?

She dared not wander about London for fear of the earl and his henchmen. It was too soon. Truthfully, there might never be the right time to do so. Perhaps an outing outside of London would be acceptable?

Eventually, she would settle deep in the country to begin her new life. Until then, it was imperative she remain hidden. It was impossible to gauge what the earl would do if he discovered her whereabouts, and London was right
under his patrician nose. It was a peril she couldn’t risk. She’d have to leave the city to find her adventure.

She wandered into the kitchen, explained to Sophie her intention to take the gig out, and assured her new friend she’d be careful.

“I promise I will not speak to anyone and will remain covered until I am well away from London.” Laura picked up a fig and popped it into her mouth.

“You should take Thomas,” Sophie urged. “You will not be safe on the roads alone.”

Laura claimed a second fig. “It is daylight and the roads are well traveled.” She sent Sophie a pleading glance. “I have been cloistered for months behind locked doors, my every movement watched dare I try to escape. I need to see a field, a hill, a hawk, something other than plastered walls and fenced gardens.”

Sophie twisted her mouth disapprovingly. “You would take a risk just for a few hours outside?”

“I promise to be careful,” Laura said and ate the fig. “If it eases your fears, you can ask Thomas to escort me out of town. Once we are free of the city, I shall be safe as a babe.”

Clearly Sophie wasn’t convinced. Still, Laura was twenty-three and capable of making decisions for herself.

She walked over, pressed a kiss on Sophie’s cheek, and squeezed her hand. Cook watched the exchange, a large wooden spoon gripped in her fist. Cook’s eyes showed that she, too, wasn’t confident with Laura’s plan.

“Truly, you two needn’t worry,” Laura said. “I shall return to you the same as when I left.”

With the countryside calling, Laura changed into a borrowed white day dress that hid her shape beneath heavy adornments of lace and bows. Then she collected her shawl, her bonnet, a borrowed cloak, and a picnic basket Cook pressed into her hands. She found her way to the stable, met up with the stern-faced Thomas, and soon left the bustle and noise of London behind.

The two-wheeled gig squeaked and rattled as the fat pony, Muffin, ambled slowly down the road, as if piqued
that she’d been pressed into service. Still, Laura had been informed that the pony was a dependable sort and perfect for a daylong adventure.

Sometime later, she’d waved off Thomas with the promise to return to the school well before dark. A useless vow, certainly, as she suspected he’d be following behind her, at a discreet distance, to make certain she came to no harm.

That suited her just fine. If he wanted to waste an entire day dawdling, it was up to him. She planned to think of nothing but sunshine and green meadows.

Since the day was warm, she shucked off the hot hooded cloak, her disguise, and tossed it over the seat beside her. The sun prickled delightfully on her bare forearms as the oversized bonnet kept her nose from freckling—and prying eyes from a close examination of her face.

There was no one to hover or tend to her needs. Nothing would keep her from running pell-mell across meadows like a wild thing if she wished. She had no destination in mind or a set time frame for which she had to be back. She had a few coins in her pocket, stolen during her planned escape from the earl. She’d brought them with her in case she stumbled across a village and wanted to make some purchase.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, a genuine smile graced her mouth and she tipped back her head. The sun spilled over her cheeks and she sighed happily.

“Onward, dearest Muffin,” Laura said and clicked her tongue. The pony shook her head to dislodge a fly and snorted, her tiny hooves thumping on hard-packed earth. Laura grinned and eased her around a rut. “I promise to have you back in the stable by evening for oats, if that suits your mood.”

With persistence, Laura managed to get Muffin into a trot. She kept her head down when passing other conveyances and spent an hour or so enjoying the sweet fresh air of the countryside without incident. It had been too long since she’d breathed anything but London soot. The scent of wildflowers and mown fields was a rare treat.

Eventually, the grumbling in her belly won out over
exploration and she began a search for a place out of the sun to eat. She glanced longingly at the picnic basket.

A young girl leading a brown cow on a rope came into view. Laura eased Muffin past them and then quickly edged back to the side of the road to allow an oncoming horse and rider to pass.

In an instant, she realized there was something familiar about the dappled-gray horse as it trotted by. It took another second or two to realize the rider had turned the beast around and was pulling up beside her. She lifted startled eyes to his face and jerked the reins at the same time. The gig stopped abruptly and she was nearly pitched from the seat!

Thus began an awkward scramble to recover her balance. A burning flush stained her cheeks as she righted herself. Gads.

There was no point pretending not to notice him, or that she did not recognize his face. She had a feeling Mister Harrington was not the sort of man who would be ignored. And he certainly wasn’t the kind of man whom women easily forgot.

“Imagine my surprise, Miss Laura, to discover you out here, alone, and quite some distance from London.” He peered at her from beneath the brim of his hat and leaned down to brace an elbow on his thigh for a better view of her. “Are you lost?”

She felt a tingle of annoyance. Her day had been perfect and all her own. Until now. “No, Mister Harrington, I am not lost.” Then a worrisome thought rushed into her head. “How did you recognize me? I thought I was well disguised.” She put her hand to her mouth and scanned the road behind her. The girl and cow had vanished.

“You needn’t worry.” He followed her gaze before turning back to point to Muffin. “It was the pony. She belongs to Eva. I matched her with the way you carry yourself and came to a correct conclusion; the woman buried under the large bonnet was indeed Miss Laura.”