An Unwilling Baroness (8 page)

Chloe leaned in, hoping her discomfort
wasn't apparent. She slid her gaze toward Jude, his expression not
what she expected. Where was the happiness at her meeting Belle?
Why was it he looked at her through somber eyes?

"That would be splendid," Chloe replied,
knowing full well, that there would only ever be rivalry where this
woman was concerned. There was something about the perfect creature
that had her fearful for her beloved Jude. There was no goodness in
her. Had he fallen for her just as her father had fallen for
Dorothea? Could he not see past the glorious façade? Or did the
problem lie at her feet? Was she so envious that she missed the
true goodness in the woman?

Belle pushed Chloe away, the smile still
poised on her face as if it had been plastered there. Slipping her
hand around Chloe's arm, she pulled her down the path. "Miss
Pembridge, you must tell me all of Jude's little secrets. If I am
to make him a fine wife, I must study him as an artist studies his
models."

"One moment!" Fredrick's voice erupted from
just behind her. The unexpected sound echoed through the trees,
sending a flock of birds screaming into the sky. Still, despite her
initial alarm, she was glad he stopped them. She had no desire to
discuss anything more pressing with Belle than the weather. She
certainly didn't wish to talk about Jude. What she shared with him
belonged to her and was meant for no one else.

"Oh Baron!" Belle dropped her grip and
turned to face him. "You scared me."

Chloe too looked at him. His face registered
his anger, his full attention on the blonde. "I beg your pardon,"
he said, his tone lightning. "But you must not run off with Lady
Pembridge." He offered his hand. "Come to me, won't you Chloe?" he
asked, his gaze soft upon her.

Relief swept through her. He had come to her
rescue. She smiled and went to him, her small hand secure in the
warmth of his large, strong grip. "Jude, Miss Belle, you're arrival
interrupted a sweet moment."

Chloe looked to Jude. He had been so quiet
since introducing Belle. And now, his somber face turned to stone.
What the devil was the matter with him?

"And what, pray tell, did we interrupt?" he
finally said. His tone too was cold. Was there no warmth left in
the man who used to exude contagious joy? Where had he gone? For
she missed him intolerably.

Fredrick pulled her too him, his hand
sliding possessively around her waist. She didn't know how she felt
about the contact. It seemed far too personal…but she had agreed to
marry him. Wouldn't she belong to him soon enough? Still, she
leaned away, her body unused to such an overwhelming touch.

Jude's gaze traveled the length of the pair,
his jaw twitching. He was angry. She had seen it before. But she
didn’t understand why. What was going on?

"Lady Pembridge…Chloe, has agreed to marry
me."

The smile that crossed Jude's face could
only be described as frigid and disapproving. Damn him! He had
pushed her into this man's arms and now he was angry? His attention
came to rest solely on her, the bitterness of his countenance had
her mind reeling. Why? Why did he send invisible loathing toward
her? Isn't this what he said he wanted? Isn't this what they all
wanted?

"Congratulations!" Belle interjected, her
bubbly voice grated on Chloe's overtaxed and overtired nerves. Oh
to be at Pembridge House and away from all of these silly
games.

"Yes," Jude agreed with a nod.
"Congratulations, Chloe. You have made my mother the happiest of
women."

CHAPTER SEVEN

My but it was good to be home. Lowering her
aching limbs into the steamy hot tub, Chloe longed for the water to
wash away the day. Too much had happened. Had she really agreed to
marry Fredrick? Met a woman she loathed for no other reason than
she had Jude's heart? And in the process lost another bit of her
best friend? Soon, there would be nothing left between her and Jude
save his anger and her confusion.

"Dear God," she mumbled. Of all the goings
on, the thing that bothered her most was Jude. He was causing chaos
in her mind where there needn't be any. She bit back her irritation
and determined the next time she saw him, he'd explain himself. By
God, he'd let her know what was going on in that beautiful head of
his.

Sinking lower into the water she closed her
eyes, glad the day was nearly over and that the picnic would be the
last time she'd see Fredrick for a week. He had pressing business
in London and she needed time to think.

"Oh," she moaned. Everything that had
happened was just too much for one miserable soul to bear without a
hot bath and lavender soap.

"Miss?" It was Maggie's voice calling
through the door. "Can I come in, please?"

There was urgency in her tone that had Chloe
reaching for her towel. "Yes, of course."

Maggie rushed in, her breathing harsh, her
face crimson. "It's the young master and your baron," she said.
"They're out in the courtyard, Miss. They're fightin'! Fists
raised."

"What are they fighting over?" Chloe asked,
quickly drying her body.

"Cook said it was about a woman." Maggie's
mouth dropped open. "You don't suppose they're fightin' over you?
Oh, Miss, that would be scrumptious!"

"Maggie, stop that," Chloe scolded, but
inwardly admitted that indeed, having Jude fight for her would mean
ever so much. Dear God, she oughtn't to wish for that. It was
wrong, evil. Oh, but she did wish for it. With all her heart.

"Well, Miss," Maggie said, rushing to her
side with a fresh gown. "Your fella is bleeding from his nose."

"Jude?" she said, her hand flying to her
mouth. "Is he hurt awfully badly?"

Maggie's brows joined in obvious confusion.
"No Miss…Von Richter, he's bleedin'."

The heat of embarrassment flooded her cheeks
but she didn't stop to explain herself. For Maggie's face softened,
her eyes offering a knowing expression. She knew where Chloe's
heart belonged, probably had before she, herself had realized it.
Stepping into her gown, she stifled a groan as the fabric stuck to
her wet skin. "We must hurry."

"Aye Miss. We best or it'll be done afore we
get there."

***

Chloe pushed the damp curls from her face,
her bare feet slapping against the marble floor of the entryway as
she made her way toward the courtyard. Judging by the loud cheers
and jeers she hadn't missed the fight. Her heart clenched, for she
hoped she had. Yet worry pressed her to the door and she opened it
without hesitation. Shoving her way through the small gathering of
onlookers, horror met her eyes.

Both men were cast in shadow as the setting
sun pressed against them. Standing in the center of the courtyard,
their battered faces bore strong proof of the battle. Jude's left
eye swollen shut. Blood coursed thickly from Fredrick's nose. They
squared off, leaned in, both with their fists raised to attack.

Lifting her skirt she rushed into the fray,
wanting only to make it stop. Her heart ached at the sight of Jude
and despite her brain reminding her that it was Fredrick she should
protect, all her instincts screamed that she rush to Jude's
aid.

"Stop it!" she shrieked, placing her body in
between the warring pair. With her arms up, she pressed each of her
hands into the men's chests. "What in the name of all that's holy
is the matter with you two? What's this about?" Her gaze slid from
one man to the other, and each slowly looked away, Fredrick toward
the front gates, Jude, at the ground. "The pair of you out here
sparring like little boys, each claiming the other is your friend.
Well, I'll tell you boys, friends don't pummel one another."

Jude pulled a handkerchief from his vest
pocket and offered it to Fredrick. "Here man, you're bleeding all
over yourself."

Fredrick grunted and lifting his arm, ran
his sleeve beneath his nose. "I'll take nothing from you, Jude." He
looked to Chloe, his mouth dipping into a deep frown. "I'm sorry,
sweet." Turning, he walked away.

She watched him go, battling against what
she should do and what she wanted to do. Her gaze came to rest on
Jude and what she should do lost her inner battle. "What happened?"
she whispered. "The picnic ended well."

Jude took her by the arm and pulled her
toward the stables and away from the onlookers' curious stares.
"Back to work with the lot of you!" he shouted and once in the
shadows, he set his full attention on her.

"What happened?" She asked again, this time
her words coming out in a trembling rush. Whatever it was that was
coming, was bad. She felt the icy fingers of fear constrict her
throat.

"H-he attacked Miss Lockwood's character,"
Jude explained and looked past her. Her stomach plummeted. The
fight she'd secretly hoped was about her, had been about Belle. She
should've known she could never have aroused that much passion in
Jude. "And I couldn't allow him to besmirch her."

"What did he say that was so horrible you
hit him?" Her lower jaw quaked and she wrapped her arms around
herself to ward off the chills that coated her damp skin.

Jude shook his head and raked his fingers
through his chestnut curls. "You're a lady and don't need to be
exposed to such. Besides, you’re to marry him. You don't want that
ghost hanging over your marriage."

"No, I would rather have none of this
hanging over my marriage. But if you don't tell me, I'm certain
what I imagine is far worse than the reality."

Jude blew out a frustrated breath. "I hardly
doubt that."

Chloe stared into his face, her chin lifted.
"You tell me, or I'll find out from Fredrick and if he doesn't tell
me I'll confront Miss Lockwood."

He leaned against the stable wall, glaring
at her. "You don't need to know. What's done is done."

"It's not for you to tell me what I need,
Jude." If he knew what she needed, upon his arrival from America,
he would've offered his help, his hand, and his support. Instead,
he pushed her away and into the arms of a stranger.

"So you'll not only strip me of your
friendship, and my manhood, now you'll tell me that I can't even
try to protect you?"

"Strip you of my friendship?" She fought
back a bitter laugh. "You have had little or no regard for my
feelings since you returned home. Now tell me so I go into my
marriage knowing what sort of man I'm dealing with."

"Fine." Jude let out a low, feral growl. "He
says that he and my fiancée were intimate five years ago. That he
had every intention of marrying her when she disappeared."

Chloe sighed. She shouldn’t have been
surprised. Of course, she wasn’t. She was disgusted. Disgusted with
Belle. With Fredrick and with Jude. "So, she's had not one of you,
but both of you?" Her ire rose. This would not do. They fought over
the woman because she aroused such passion that they couldn't
control themselves. Meanwhile, on the day she acquiesced to marry a
man she didn't love, she became an afterthought. Someone cast aside
and unworthy of a punch in the nose.

"Once a rake, always a rake." She fought the
urge to slap him. "Goodbye, Jude. I hope you find your happiness. I
fear there is none for me. I am surrounded by vipers and feral
dogs." She turned to flee but he caught her arm, stopping her.

"You're wrong about me, Chloe."

Jude swallowed so hard she could see the
bounce of his Adam's apple. He clenched his jaw and looked past
her.

She gazed up at him with loathing. "If only
I were." Jerking free of his grip, she raced toward the house,
small stones digging into the flesh of her bare feet.

As she pulled open the door, she rushed past
Dorothea, the woman's scowl deep. "What is happening? I lie down to
nap and the world comes crashing down."

Chloe kept running. She had answered to
Dorothea for the last time.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The night was chilly and the moon cast
strange shadows across the road. Eerie shadows that moved in the
ever blowing breeze and promised sinister, waking nightmares. Oh,
she'd read one too many novels.

"Shadows are powerless…it's people who are
sinister," she argued and Sebastian tossed his head, as if in
disagreement. Despite her misgivings, Chloe urged him further away
from Pembridge House. With each step the steed took, guilt's grip
tightened, for she'd deserted her family. But she could not martyr
herself. She would not watch as Belle married the man she loved and
she refused to be Fredrick’s second choice. She couldn't be the
charwoman her father used to clean up his mess. Her life was hers
and by God she'd live it, even if it meant living it as a governess
or a housekeeper.

Turning onto the road that would take her to
London, her first stop would be her Aunt Betsy's townhouse. There
she'd garner the support of her mother's sister before deciding
exactly what to do next. Aunt Betsy, her mother's younger and only
sibling. The last connection she had to the beloved woman. Surely,
she'd aid her in her escape, for there was no love between her aunt
and her father.

Sliding her hand over Sebastian's neck, she
just hoped she could make it into the city without coming upon a
robber or horse thief. Perhaps she should've stolen Daisy. The old
girl wasn't worth near what Sebastian was and would garner far less
attention. Still, leaving him was like leaving behind the only
piece of joy that remained in her existence.

Yet, being on the lonely road had her heart
thrumming hard against her ribs and her hands tight in the reins.
"I suppose I should've thought about this a little more," she
mumbled, her only reply the wind as it whipped the trees that lined
the road into a frenzy.

Clucking Sebastian, she pressed him into a
trot, for the faster he moved, the more quickly she could arrive at
her aunt's. The trip to London generally took three hours by
carriage. Surely, she and Sebastian could make it there in less
time. Of course, if she went as the crow flew it would be even
faster. But did she dare?