Married in Haste (12 page)

Tess leaned out the window and waved until they’d gone around the corner. She sat back on the velvet seat, her color still high.

“Look,” she said proudly and held up her left hand for him to admire. The moonstone ring was in its proper place. “I was so nervous,” she admitted. Then she looked away before adding softly, “I still am.”

“I am too.”

Her eyes flashed up to him. “You?”

He nodded.

She pressed her lips together, her gaze dropping as if she didn’t know what to do with the information.

“The ring is lovely.”

“It’s a moonstone.” He could have added that it was the only thing of value besides his dreams that he owned.

She turned her hand this way and that to catch the gem’s pearly light.

He said, “It’s a dull stone when compared to emeralds and rubies, but in India it is considered sacred.”

The words came out a touch bitter. He was all too aware of how little he had to offer her. And she was bringing so much into the marriage.

She self-consciously touched the rubies around her throat. “Together,” she whispered.

“What?”

“You said it in the ceremony. You said, ‘Together.’ That word is a motto of sorts in my family.”

“I didn’t know.”

She smiled. “Then perhaps it is an omen.” Her expression turned pensive. “Perhaps this was meant to be.”

Brenn reached for her hand. “I purchased the stone from an old beggar man. He promised me good fortune if I paid his price.” He traced the swirl of gold around the stone. “The stone reminds me of the night we first met. The moon was full.”

Her lips curved into a shy smile. “It was. A full, silver moon.” She paused. “Did you pay his price?”

“What? Oh. No. You haggle. It’s expected.”

“Even when something is sacred?” she asked softly.

He gave her a sharp look. His wife was beautiful, but he hadn’t really thought her insightful. He ran his thumb back and forth across the back of her hand. “The moonstone is also said to arouse the passion of lovers.”

“Really?” Her voice had gone breathless. Her cheeks turned bright pink, a maidenly blush that made him think of taking her to bed.

Suddenly, Draycutt and the baby no longer mattered. He wanted this woman. Passionately.

He eased his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “I know your secret, Tess.”

She jerked away. “My secret?” she repeated, horrified.

Brenn took her hand again. “It doesn’t matter. All I ask is that you be a good wife to me. That you honor the vows we made this day.”

A small frown formed between her eyebrows. “You know and you married me anyway?”

Feeling noble, Brenn nodded.

But her reaction was not what he had anticipated. The color drained from her face. “Who else knows?”

He wasn’t going to tell her about Godwin. “No one.”

Even then, the information did not relax her. He didn’t get a chance to say more because at that moment they drew up at the Hamlins’ front door. Almost before the wheels had stopped turning, his bride opened the door and jumped down to the ground. She hurried back to the coach following them, waiting impatiently for her brother to climb down.

Puzzled, Brenn watched brother and sister have a hurried consultation. Hamlin hadn’t been interested in what she had to say, until she apparently repeated herself. He then quickly hurried her inside.

“What the devil?” Brenn asked himself, and then realized he’d been left behind by the rest of the wedding party. He followed the celebrating guests at his leisure, mulling over his wife’s state of panic.

Guests were arriving from all directions. They swept Brenn inside the door on a tide of good wishes.

Inside, glasses of champagne were poured and downed with only the briefest of ceremonies. The haut ton, the elite of London, was a group of people who knew only excess. They now celebrated Brenn’s wedding with bottle after bottle of the finest vintage. Nor did they notice when Brenn set his glass aside.

He wasn’t a heavy drinker. There had been a time, when he’d first seen battle, that he had turned to the bottle, but he had quickly learned there was no solace to be found there. He preferred a more prudent and sober course now.

Suddenly, Hamlin was at Brenn’s elbow. His manner was one of supreme agitation. He pushed him toward the relative privacy of his study. “How did you find out?”

Brenn shook his head. He wasn’t going to admit to eavesdropping on the servants. “It doesn’t matter. I’

ve taken her to wife.”

“But it matters to me! Who else knows?”

“No one, and no one ever will,” Brenn promised. “After all, what good would it serve me? It is between Tess and me.”

Hamlin stared into his face as if searching for an ulterior motive. At last, he eased his guarded stance.

“You have relieved me of a terrible burden. You’re a good man, Merton.” A group of gentlemen spied them in the doorway and called Hamlin’s name.

He turned to them. “Gentlemen, let us drink to the good health of my new brother-in-law!”

Such a suggestion didn’t need to be seconded.

They toasted the wedding soberly at first, their enthusiasm building with each subsequent toast. Hamlin, of course, egged on his fellow drinkers.

There wasn’t a man there that didn’t claim to envy Brenn. He’d married the prize, the most sought-after heiress of the Season, the beautiful princess. However, when they started toasting Tess’s fingernails, Brenn decided the time had come to leave. He wandered away, going from room to room searching for his bride and meeting relatives.

Suddenly Tess appeared by his side. She held an empty wineglass and her expressive eyes brimmed with happiness.

“Uncle Isaac!” she cried, throwing her arms around the old man’s neck in a gesture of genuine affection.

“My favorite niece,” Uncle Isaac responded and started talking about the day he’d first held her in his arms when she was a tiny babe but Tess interrupted him.

“This is my wonderful, wonderful husband,” she declared, linking her arm in Brenn’s. “You’ll excuse us, won’t you, dear uncle?” She didn’t wait for an answer but skillfully guided Brenn away.

“He is so long-winded,” she whispered.

Brenn took the empty glass from her and handed it to a servant. “Do you drink much?” he asked in a less than casual voice.

“Oh…no, not often.” She swallowed. “I have had a glass or two to relax me a bit. For tonight.”

Tonight. Yes, he wanted her relaxed for tonight. Desire raced through his veins.

Then, in a voice that made him feel like Sir Galahad and Saint George the Dragon Slayer combined, she said, “I can’t tell you what your acceptance of the situation means to me. You have saved my family.”

He pulled her aside to a small corner of the hallway where they could have some measure of privacy.

“Tess, I want to always protect you.”

She smiled, her eyes shiny. Reaching out, she smoothed his shoulder with the palm of her hand. A wifely gesture.

Brenn took that same hand and pressed a kiss in the palm before promising, “I shall claim the baby as my own. You need never fear on that account.”

The smile froze on her face. “The what?”

He looked over his shoulder both ways to prevent anyone from overhearing. “Your baby,” he whispered.

“I accept it.”

“My baby?” she squeaked out. She looked around as if searching for someone and then turned back to Brenn. “You think I’m having a baby?” She started to draw her hand away but he held it fast.

“Isn’t that the secret you’ve been hiding? I overheard the maids talking. That’s how I knew.”

“You think that’s my secret?” she repeated blankly.

“Well, isn’t it?”

Tess blinked and then seemed come to her senses and said, “Yes! Yes, that’s it!” She took a worried step away from him and then muttered, “I need a glass of wine. Oh, my Lord, I need a glass of wine.”

She grabbed a glass off the tray of a passing footman and to Brenn’s surprise downed it.

He took her by the arms. “Are you all right?”

She smiled up at him. “I’m fine.” She held her empty glass out to be filled to the brim by a passing servant carrying champagne. She raised her glass.

Brenn intercepted the glass before it met her lips, lifting it right out of her fingers. “Tess, is it wise to drink this much?”

“I daresay, not. It’s just that—oh, Brenn, oh Brenn.” She paused and then said half to herself, “The moonstone is beautiful and everything will be fine. Just fine. I must find my brother; you’ll excuse me?”

“Wait, I’ll go with you,” he said, setting the glass on a hallway table. When he came back around, she was gone.

He would have gone in search of her, but Uncle Isaac caught up with him and proceeded to hold forth, reminiscing about Tess’s father. Brenn listened with half an ear, expecting the old codger to confide that drunkenness ran in the family. On the other side of the hall, he saw Neil Hamlin chirp his way merrily from one room to another, a glass of wine in each hand.

Finally Stella had the butler announce that breakfast was served. In actuality the wedding breakfast was a full, heavy meal of ham, leg of lamb, and a good side of sirloin. Rounding out the meal were fish courses, soup, Turkish figs, and lemon ices.

And to Brenn’s chagrin, a new wine was served with each course. It took all of his ingenuity to save his wife, now seated by his side, from drinking herself under the table. She completely ignored him, keeping her back to him as if pretending that if she didn’t see him, he wasn’t there.

What the devil had come over her?

After her third glass of wine, he waved the wine steward away—only to watch her attempt to drink from a neighbor’s glass. He ended up draining one glass when she wasn’t looking and then boldly knocked over another.

No one noticed his antics. They were all too busy doing the same thing! The whole affair was in danger of turning into a drunken orgy. Prinny was burbling in his champagne glass, the hair-styles and ostrich feathers of usually dignified women were listing at odd angles, and even the discreet Anne Burnett giggled with unusual brightness.

Worse, Hamlin kept leaning across his sister and drunkenly carrying on about what a “rum fellow” Brenn was.

“But you must treat her right,” Hamlin repeated over and over. “She’s worth more than diamonds.”

After nearly two hours Brenn had had enough. When Uncle Isaac rose to propose another bloody toast, Brenn “accidentally” knocked Tess’s elbow as she lifted her glass, spilling her wine on her lovely dress.

Her soft cry of dismay alerted Stella, who seemed to be the only person besides Brenn left sober. She smoothly announced that it was time the ladies left the table to freshen up for the dancing scheduled to follow dinner.

Brenn sat back, exhausted. His brother-in-law was busy overindulging in port with the other male guests but Brenn didn’t care. His one thought was of Tess. It was half past three and already a long day.

“Not much longer, eh?” Deland Godwin moved to take Tess’s vacant seat.

“Longer for what?” Brenn asked curtly.

“Until you claim the prize.” He winked as he said those words.

“I don’t understand your meaning,” Brenn said stonily, his coldness a warning. He had little patience left.

Godwin pursed his fat lips. “So many of us have watched Tess tease and promise over the years.” He lifted his brandy glass. “We are just wondering if she is going to be worth the ride.”

Brenn acted on instinct. He would not have his wife’s name bandied about by the likes of Godwin. He grabbed the man by his starched neck cloth. The brandy glass tumbled out of Godwin’s hand onto the white linen tablecloth while his face turned a shade of beet-red.

“You listen, and you listen well,” Brenn said in a silky voice. “I will not have you or any man speculate about my lady wife. Do I make myself clear?”

The room had gone quiet. Godwin made a choking sound but Brenn didn’t release his hold. He might have been overreacting but Tess was his and he would let no man denigrate her.

The silence was suddenly broken by the sound of Prinny laughing. “Great God, it is about time someone grabbed Godwin by the throat.” He stood. “Merton, I salute you!”

A chorus of “Aye’s!” supported his declaration. The other men stood and raised their glasses to Brenn.

Anything for another drink, Brenn thought, completely jaded.

He released his hold on Godwin who fell back into the chair, his legs too weak to support him. He reached for his neck. “You have made an enemy, Merton,” he croaked out.

“I can sleep with that fact,” Brenn answered. “I’ve offended better men than you.”

Hot color flooded Godwin’s face, causing Hamlin and the others to drunkenly laugh out loud. Godwin stared at them with burning eyes, but the revelers showed no fear.

He staggered to his feet. “I will make you pay, Merton.” With those words, he turned, pushing the man standing next to him aside, and stormed out of the room.

“Very good, Merton,” Hamlin said happily. “I’ve been waiting for that man to receive his comeuppance for years. You did it handily.” He hiccuped on the last word.

The hiccup reminded Brenn that he had another concern. Tess. “Shouldn’t we be joining the ladies?”

“Oh, yes, yes!” Hamlin said, and motioned everyone toward the door.

Outside the dining room the house was more crowded than ever. Apparently, a good number of guests who had not been invited to the breakfast had now arrived for the dancing. Brenn made his way through their company, searching for Tess. The dancing started, only adding to the confusion. The noise rose as guests spoke louder to be heard above the music.

Every few feet or so, he was frustrated in his quest by people stopping him and wishing him well. Where the devil was Tess?

At last he caught sight of his wife’s red hair in what Hamlin called the Garden Room. Here the music wasn’t so loud and groups had gathered to converse. He breathed a sigh of relief, until he realized she was still wearing her wedding dress. She gestured to whomever she spoke with an empty wineglass.

Brenn shook his head and started toward her but stopped in mid-stride when the gentleman Tess was talking to raised his head. He found himself looking into the laughing eyes of Captain Draycutt.