The Christmas Heiress (37 page)

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Authors: Adrienne Basso

BOOK: The Christmas Heiress
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Charlotte's defiance melted away. "Being in love
can cloud your judgement."

"Or fog it completely." Edward shifted the ribbons and slowed the horses as they approached a
sharp curve. "It has taken my mother six years to
reach an uneasy truce with me and now Jonathan
has eloped with her companion. Will my family
never be at peace? Must we always be at odds with
each other?"

"We still might find them in time," Charlotte said.

Edward merely grunted his reply. Charlotte
could not fault his skepticism. They were both well
aware the odds were not in their favor.

As they rounded another particularly sharp curve,
Charlotte fought to keep herself upright, suddenly
feeling all the exhaustion of a sleepless night overtake her weary body. Her head throbbed with a low
pain. She moved her fingers to her temples and
pressed them firmly in an effort to dull the ache,
then rubbed her eyes and tried to ease the tenseness of her muscles, wishing it were possible to
sleep, if only for an hour or two.

"Lean against my shoulder," Edward said, obviously guessing how much she needed to rest.

Charlotte was grateful for the offer. Knowing he
needed all of his upper-body strength to control the horses, she moved closer and gently lowered
her head, trying to put only the lightest pressure on
his shoulder. She lay still for a long minute, forcing
her body to relax. Her nose was close to his bare
neck and she breathed in his clean, comforting
scent, a pleasing mixture of tangy soap and salt.

Though hardly a soft cushion, Edward's shoulder
provided her room to maneuver into a more comfortable body position. Gradually, Charlotte's eyes
drifted closed. Her feet were cold, but the rest of
her body was deliciously warm. Cuddled next to
Edward she felt safe, relaxed. Her breaths turned
even and within minutes she had slipped into the
quiet oblivion of sleep.

The section of his upper arm and shoulder
where Charlotte's head lolled against his body had
lost all feeling, the feather that sat atop her stylish
bonnet tickled his nose every time he shifted his
head in her direction, and her deep, even breaths
reminded him all too vividly of how bone-tired he
felt. Yet Edward kept his body locked in the same
position.

He could tolerate any discomfort if it brought
Charlotte some measure of peace, afforded her
even an hour or two of rest. That thought brought
a flicker of surprise with it. When had Charlotte's
comfort become so important to him, more important than his own? And not only her comfort, but
her happiness and well-being?

When had he become the one who wanted to
watch out for her, protect her, indulge her? Spoil
her. The one to bring a smile to her lips along with a gasp of pleasure, to make her eyes alight with joy
and her face glow with contentment. When exactly
had that happened?

The earl's throat went dry. The feelings had hit
him, fast and hard, and now ... and now ...

The sight of an upcoming village broke Edward's
train of thought. He slowed the horses to a walk as
they entered the picturesque hamlet and looked
over the small street lined by shops and houses. He
noted two taverns at the middle of the street's
length and surmised this was a town of significant
population to support two apparently prosperous
establishments.

Regrettably, he did not see the one thing he was
so desperately seeking-the spires of a church.

The change in carriage speed woke Charlotte
and she shifted in her seat. `Where are we?"

"Somerville, according to the sign. I was here
once as a boy but barely remember it." Trying not
to show the raging frustration he felt, Edward took
a deep breath. "The village boosts two taverns, but
alas I see no evidence of a church."

"One must suppose the sinners have gained the
victory in this small community," Charlotte remarked with a wry grin.

"Apparently." Edward stopped the vehicle in
front of the larger inn and jumped out. "Wait here.
I'll only be a moment."

He left the reins in Charlotte's capable hands
and went into the taproom. A stout man in a clean
white apron approached. "Welcome to the Bull and
Finch. We have a private parlor sir, for ye and the
lady. Won't take but a minute fer my wife to lay out
the table and serve ye both a hearty luncheon."

Edward imparted what he hoped was a friendly
smile. "I thank you for your offer of hospitality, but
we have already partaken of our midday meal. I
came to inquire after the nearest church. Is there
one located close by?"

The man leaned on the wooden counter and
glanced at the earl, his brows knitting. "Strange ye
should ask, sir, seeing as ye are the second gentleman today who'd be wantin' a church."

Edward nearly jumped over the counter, but he
held back his exuberance. In his experience, locals
tended to be closemouthed and suspicious when
one exhibited too much interest or made the
matter sound too urgent. "The second one to ask
you say? Hmmm, how odd." Edward cleared his
throat. "So, is there a church in town?"

"There is," the innkeeper said. "And a fine one,
too. On the north edge of town. There was a fire in
the spring that destroyed the steeple, but the
buildin' is open and the vicar should be around at
this time of day. Just stay on the main road as ye
drive through town. Ye can't miss it."

Edward dug into his pocket, withdrew several
coins and hastily pushed them across the counter.
"Thank you for your time."

The innkeeper looked confused, but he scooped
up the money and it quickly disappeared within the
folds of his apron.

Edward returned to the carriage in a much
better frame of mind. His initial concerns that they
were on a wild-goose chase, traveling on the wrong
road, possibly in the wrong direction had been momentarily tempered. He willed the tension away and tried to focus on his driving. Thankfully, Charlotte sensed his mood and asked no questions.

The church was as easy to locate as the innkeeper
had told him. As Edward maneuvered his team of
horses to the side of the stone building, he recognized the carriage tied to a wrought-iron post as
one of his own.

A wave of relief washed down his spine. They had
found them! "I know that coach," Edward announced. "It's one of mine. Jonathan and Miss Montgomery must be inside."

Edward sprang from the carriage, then impatiently assisted Charlotte. They entered the church
quietly, each shivering in the chilly air. Squinting
down the long aisle, Edward could see a couple at
the altar, their hands clasped together. The vicar
was positioned in front of them, his prayer book
open. Three women were standing in a semicircle
nearby. The witnesses, in all likelihood.

Without another thought, Edward charged down
the aisle, his boot heels echoing loudly on the stone
floor. He could hear Charlotte scampering beside
him, moving quickly to keep up. The commotion
caused the vicar to pause. The church fell silent
and Edward's quiet command was clearly audible.
"Stop the ceremony at once!"

There was a blur of movement as the couple
standing before the vicar turned toward him.
Jonathan froze with a gasp when he saw the earl, his
face turning pale at first, then becoming rapidly infused with color.

"Oh, dear Lord save us," Miss Montgomery
squeaked, turning her face against Jonathan's broad shoulder, as if closing her eyes would somehow
make the earl disappear.

The brothers regarded each other with identical
blank stares.

The earl opened his mouth to give his brother a
sharp set-down, but broke off abruptly when he felt
a light touch on his arm. Confused, he looked over
at Charlotte, who now stood by his side, her hand
clasped on his arm. Her expression was grave, her
eyes deeply troubled.

"The vicar was reciting the final prayer and bestowing his blessing on the newly married couple
when we so rudely interrupted," she said. Her voice
lowered even further. "I fear we are too late."

Edward lifted his head and considered the clergyman for a long, uncomfortable moment. "I am
the Earl of Worthington, the groom's brother."

Misunderstanding completely, the vicar smiled.
"Ah, so there is family to attend the service. That's
wonderful."

"Hardly," Edward said curtly.

There was a gaggle of excited female whispers
from the three witnesses.

Jonathan stiffened and leveled a warning look at
his brother. "If you are not here to share in our joy,
Edward, then I think it best that you leave."

Charlotte reached for the earl's hand and gave
it a hard squeeze and Edward managed to swallow
his angry retort. She bent her head toward him and
spoke in a soft undertone.

"I beg you, Edward. Think carefully before you
speak. Words said in anger and haste can be particularly biting and cruel. And once spoken, they can
never be retracted."

Edward considered her advice with a scowl, his
gaze locked on Jonathan's unrepentant face as his
younger brother viewed him with menacing calculation. The earl opened his mouth again, but his
brother interrupted.

"You are too late. The vows have been spoken
and in the eyes of God and man, we are married. I
love Evelyn, and I respect her, and I plan on spending the rest of my life taking care of her and trying
to make her happy. There is nothing that you can
say or do that will change that, Edward. Nothing."

A nearly blinding anger streaked through the
earl. "So, you will selfishly place your own happiness above any responsibility to your family?"

Jonathan's expression was incredulous. "My
family should be pleased that I have found such a
good, fine, gentle woman to share my life."

"She is unsuitable," the earl stated bluntly. "And
clearly you know that or else you would not have
snuck off with her like a thief in the middle of the
night."

"Edward!" Charlotte cried out.

"No, the earl is right, Jonathan," Miss Montgomery said in a broken voice. "I am hardly anyone's
first choice for a wife. My greatest worry was that our
union would cause strife in the family and it has
started already. Above all, I never wanted that to
happen. We have just spoken our vows. Surely the
marriage is not legal until we sign the register and
the special license you brought? It is not too late to
turn back."

"No! "Jonathan's voice came out with resounding
force, as explosive as gunshots. "There is nothing
anyone can say or do that will alter my feelings. You are my wife, Evelyn, the other half of my soul, and
nothing will keep you from me."

Edward stole a look at his brother's bride, certain
he would detect something akin to the desperation
of a trapped hare. But surprisingly, her countenance
was shaken, yet not crushed. She cast an imploring
gaze on his brother, clearly seeking his guidance.
The former Miss Montgomery apparently had more
of a backbone than he had initially surmised.

For a moment Edward felt envious. Not of the
beauty of his brother's bride, but of the obvious
adoration she had for him. She was clearly ready to
sacrifice her own happiness in order to ensure
peace and harmony in Jonathan's life.

"Have you considered how our mother will react
to this unexpected turn of events?" Edward asked.

Miss Montgomery's face blanched and Jonathan
tightened his arm around her, then glared at his
brother, for causing his bride distress. "We are prepared for Mother's initial displeasure, but hope her
feelings will soften in time."

"And if they do not?"

Jonathan's forehead pleated into a frown. "I respect her and will always love her, but Mother will
not dictate how I live my life. You taught me that,
Edward."

The earl's lips curled up in an ironic grin. Why did
Jonathan have to pick such an inconvenient moment
to find his inner strength? He cast a glance at Charlotte, hoping she might have a more convincing
argument.

"There will be scandal, disgrace-some might
even say ruin," Charlotte said softly. "However, that scandal could be greatly lessened if you had the
support of the earl."

"What?" Edward turned his head sharply. Charlotte was supposed to be supporting his position of
preventing the marriage, not endorsing it.

"Look at them," she whispered sharply. "Nothing
short of death will ever separate these two. We must
therefore move on to a new plan. At least it is a marriage by special license and not the scandal of
Gretna Green. With you and I to stand as witnesses,
the sting lessens even more."

Edward slowly felt his anger wane. Charlotte was
right. Jonathan would not forsake Evelyn no matter
what they said. His brother was known for having a
carefree, genial attitude and that was true, yet he also
possessed an excessively strong will. When he decided to do something, he was like a boulder rolling
down a steep incline; nothing could stop him.

But even more significant, what Edward saw in
his brother's eyes could not be misunderstood.
Jonathan was truly smitten. He stood with his arm
around Evelyn, protecting her, possessing her, holding her close, treating her as something extremely
precious. He was the picture of a man in love.

Edward mulled over his choices and made his decision. "If I could beg your indulgence, Vicar,
would you be so kind as to start the ceremony
again, so that we may hear it all?"

"With great pleasure, my lord," the vicar said
loudly, to be heard above the sighs of relief from
the bride and groom and squeals of delight from
the three female witnesses, who were his unmarried
daughters.

The cleric opened the Bible and began the service, adding romantic flourishes whenever possible. Edward
listened intently to the words he had heard many
times, weighing each word and their significance.

"I, Jonathan Anthony Charles Barringer, take thee,
Evelyn Margaret Montgomery, to be my wedded
wife, to have and to hold from this day forward; for
better for worse, for richer for poorer. . .

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