The Highwayman's Bride (6 page)

“That is none of your concern.” As she said the words Tess grabbed hold of her revived sense of inner strength and didn’t let go. 

Yes, she had struck out on the highway, thinking it would be like the stories she had read.

How wrong that had been. That was purely fantasy. But right now, she knew this was her chance and she would not let it slip away. “My trust account is virtually empty and I am no longer of any use to you, Luther, but you and I both know the truth is that you’ve wasted it all. A fact I’m sure my father’s lawyer Mr. Steinhart would be interested to know.”

“Why you ungrateful little…” His fist shot into the air, ready to swing at her.

Tess refused to flinch or bat an eyelid. “Hit me and I’ll ensure you never see the little that is left of my trust money. I should have stood up to you years ago, but to my shame I did not, believing I had no other options. But no more. I will marry Mr. Masters.”

For several long seconds, the only sound was Luther’s wheezing breath. Not one word was spoken, his fury explosive.

Tulip reached a hand out to her husband. “Leave it be, Luther.”

He flicked her off and his fist remained airborne.

Tess waited. Prepared for it.

Uttering a brutal curse, he dropped his arm to his side and shoved the carriage door open. Cursing profusely, he didn’t bother helping Tulip or Tess and stormed into the house.

Tess stared after him, aware of Tulip shaking at her side. “That went well.”

“He is upset. That is all.”

Tess turned to her aunt, seeking some sort of understanding. “Oh, Aunt Tulip, how can you live like this? Why do you stay?”

Her aunt’s brow creased, incomprehension blatant. “Because…because I am his wife and I love him.”

Tess would never understand her aunt. “You love a bully.”

“He was not always so. It is the business—”

“A bully, no matter.” Exiting the carriage, Tess turned to help Tulip down to the pavement.

“You’ll understand once you’re married, child.”

“Never.” Brutality was never excusable.

And highway robbery is?

She didn’t have an answer for that except that desperation made people do things they normally wouldn’t.

Thrilled that she had at last found a way to shed the mantle of Luther’s bullying, she headed upstairs, ignoring the vociferous rants echoing from the library. Once tucked up in bed, she experienced a renewed sense of hope. Her last thought before sleep took over was of Aiden, her future husband.

Morning came all too soon, and she woke to the chatter of a robin outside her window. It huddled on a heavy oak branch, taking shelter from the incessant drizzle. While the sun’s rays barely threaded through the heavy clouds, sunshine glowed in her heart. Freedom was within her reach.

A knock sounded at her door.

“Come in.”

Millie, the young maid who’d been with her for several years, walked in carrying a tray of hot chocolate. “You’re already up, m’lady.”

“I am.”

“Ain’t really surprised. The master hasn’t stopped ranting all night long. Even Thomas the footman got a clip around the ear when he went to stoke the fire in the library.”

Tess took the steaming hot drink from Millie’s tray, warming her fingers around the stoneware cup. “I’m sorry. It is entirely my fault. I’ve disrupted his plans.” She sipped her drink, enjoying the creamy chocolate as it swirled across her tongue. “A Mr. Masters is visiting at noon, Millie, and,” she said, aware of the excitement skimming around her stomach and a lightness in her chest. “I intend to marry him.”

The maid’s hands stilled their fussing. “Oh, Miss Tess. Is that why Mr. Gibbs is…”

“Enraged,” Tess finished for her. “Yes, he’s definitely not happy. Mr. Masters is…well, not of the financial echelon my uncle would aspire to.”

“Well, if you’ll pardon my saying so, it sure is nice to see him get his comeuppance for a change.” She shot Tess a cheeky smile and Tess winked back in return, both of them stifling a fit of giggles.

“Today, Millie, is the beginning of a new adventure.”

Chapter Six

’Tis the season for courting.

For pretty girls and handsome boys to play.

Mirabelle’s Musings

November 1813

Dawn fully broken and with his leaden feet dragging, Aiden took the steps into White’s two at a time. After leaving the Bancroft’s before midnight he’d been intent on heading home, only to receive word from Mickey Cocroft that Nash’s delivery would arrive in a matter of hours.

Sleep had beckoned, but his grim determination to hunt out the bastard and catch him in the act overrode everything else and he’d headed out on the road again.

But again he’d failed.

With a nod to the doorman, he handed the man his hat and topcoat and made his way to the library, refusing eye contact with a soul. To do so would entail having to stop and talk, and right now he wanted neither.

A long sigh ruffled from his chest. Thankfully, the room was empty.

Sinking into a luxurious leather chair, he stretched out, reveling in the warmth of the nearby fire as it succored his chilled bones. He rested his head, eyelids slowly lowering.

Marriage?

What fool idea had gotten into his head to even consider such a prospect?

“Your Lordship?”

Reluctantly, Aiden opened his eyes. A waiter stood nearby and proffered a tray of drinks.

Aiden reached for a whiskey, relishing the fiery burn that traveled down his throat as he simply sat and stared at the fire.

“Hello, old fellow. Where the devil did you charge off to? One minute you were at Bancroft’s discussing this bloody Nash business, and the next there’s no sign of you.” Carson Humphries, the Earl of Beswick, who had been Aiden’s best friend for more years than he could remember, sank into the chair opposite him.

“I thought we were going to keep an eye on Nash. Happy to help and all that, but if you’re going to do the disappearing act, how about letting me know in advance.”

Aiden offered a wry half smile. “Sorry, Beswick, but ah…something came up and I went home.”

“A woman, no doubt,” Beswick chuckled.

Aiden chose not to confirm his friend’s assumption and sipped at his drink for a silent moment. “Unfortunately I got word Nash’s delivery time had moved forward.” Aiden knew what they talked of was confidential, but they’d served alongside each other in the Peninsula, attended Eaton together, and Aiden would trust his friend with his life.

Beswick raised a brow. “And?”

“And nothing. Just another bloody red herring!”

“The best way to get back at Nash, my dear friend, is to foil his enterprise.”

“Aye, you’re right. I need to catch him in the midst of his illegal shenanigans so the law can punish him.”

“It seems unlikely to me that Nash would head out on the road after last night’s soiree. By the way, I saw him talking to another man at Bancroft’s. Do you know who it was?”

“Gibbs,” Aiden confirmed, mouth clicking his disgust. “The man’s a dealer of sorts, though from my inquiries everything he’s touched has failed dismally.”

“Which could be a reason why he’s talking to Nash. Easy money. Desperate.”

“Aye. I had wondered. So why the hell was Nash at the Bancroft’s? My informant assured me the swap was going to happen.”

“Showing his face could have been a way to deflect suspicion.”

“Probably.” Aiden shut his eyes briefly. “Instinct pushed me to rout the bastard then and there.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Fortunately, or unfortunately, common sense prevailed.” Aiden exhaled long and slow and his fist tightened around his glass. “I keep chasing every damned lead and still nothing.”

“Somebody has to be warning him.”

“But who?” He scraped a hand across his jaw, fingers crawling up to massage his temple. “God, how my head pounds.”

“Lack of sleep does that to a man.”

His friend was right. Too many nights trawling the dank and darkened roads from London to the coast had brought him to the depths of despair and exhaustion. But he had to keep going. He had no choice. The memory of his sister’s face distorted by silent tears haunted Aiden’s nights.

“Are you sure you want to continue? No one would judge you if you simply left Nash for others to deal with.”

Aiden blinked, drawing back from the guilt-charged memories, and lifted his gaze to focus on his friend. He witnessed Beswick’s concern and was grateful for it. But even his best friend didn’t understand the intensity of the self-reproach riding roughshod through him.

“No,” he said pushing back the exhaustion that threatened both physically and mentally. “I will not walk away from the bastard until he’s strung up from the rafters.”

“Mary was a sweet young girl when I saw her last, before we shipped out to Spain.”

The muscle in Aiden’s cheek twitched and he cast a glance at his friend and confidant. “’Tis a time that seems so long ago. When life was simple.”

“So much has happened since.”

Despair. Betrayal. The silent words grated across Aiden’s brain. Pain-filled words. Fury-filled.

“Nash is a dangerous fellow and murder is second nature to him. The law isn’t on your sister’s side. No one is interested in a battered woman. Once they’re married their property is the husband’s. Mary cannot complain.” His friend voiced the same concerns Aiden had battled for months.

“At least she’s left the bastard, though how I wish I’d been here to stop her in the first place.”

“You had a duty to your country.”

Aiden snorted his disgust and emptied his glass. “First and foremost is my duty to my family, surely. Mary is my sister and it was my duty to protect her and I wasn’t there to help her when she needed it. Nash wed her in secret, then abused her and left her a broken woman.” God, how he’d make that bastard pay for what he’d done.

Last night was another failed attempt at catching Nash in the midst of his illegal dealings and Aiden felt as if he’d run out of ideas. Worse, he wasn’t certain about Tess. She protested about Luther Gibbs, but the blustering fool was in league with Nash. Was she, too?

A waiter hovered nearby once more. “I think another drink is in order,” he stated more to himself. He nodded toward Beswick. “You?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

With silent efficiency the waiter refilled Aiden’s glass and brought a drink for his friend. As he went to leave, Aiden said, “Leave the bottle. I may need it.”

Beswick eyed him, blue eyes piercing. “That’s not like you.”

Aiden tossed back the entire contents of his glass, then quickly poured a third. “I may need it, for it seems I’m about to get married.”

“Married!” Beswick shot forward on his seat. “You? You’re a confirmed bachelor.”

“Not always.”

“Well, yes, we all make mistakes,” his friend said of Aiden’s foray into the marriage den. “So who is she, and why?”

Aiden narrowed his gaze on his friend. “Could it not be love?”

His friend’s mouth quirked. “Doubtful. So, tell me, what is this marriage all about?”

“I’m helping someone.”

“Getting married to help a woman. That’s a novel concept. Who is she? ”

“Miss Tess Stanhope.”

“The young woman at Bancroft’s last eve.”

“You saw her?”

“How could I not? She was the most glorious young woman there.”

Aiden couldn’t disagree. Seeing Tess again had fired something inside his chest, something he hadn’t been expecting. In her dress of satin threaded with gold, she had taken his breath away. Aphrodite in person.

“How long have you known her?”

“An eve at most, though we did cross paths a few weeks ago.” Crossed at gunpoint. She had saved his life, so perhaps the least he could do was save her from hers.

“And you intend to marry her on such a flimsy acquaintance. Have you not learned from your nuptials to the bewitching Lillian?”

“I have no choice. I cannot in good conscience leave a woman who has asked for my help. What if it were Mary?” Would someone have helped his sister if she had asked, or would they have ignored her pleas? Aiden could not simply walk away.

“Stanhope? Stanhope? Isn’t she Gibbs’s niece?”

“Exactly.”

Beswick slapped a hand to his head and then shot up out of his seat. “Are you mad? Marrying—you’re marrying her to get closer to Gibbs. You didn’t know the woman yesterday, and now she asks for your help. And you tell me Gibbs is in league with Nash.” He fell back to his seat. “Aiden, don’t be a fool. This surely can’t be a coincidence.”

Aiden had his suspicions. They swirled constantly in his brain. But then there was their kiss.

Kissing Tess had been a mistake, a moment that had lured him in, weakening his defenses. He would not allow that to happen again. He was so close to getting Nash and couldn’t afford any hint of vulnerability, or allow a woman, even one as tempting as Tess, to divert his attention.

“Word on the ground is that Nash has taken up another interest.”

Beswick’s brows rose. “Other than robbing travelers at gunpoint? A man of many talents.”

“Ruthless,” Aiden added. “The bastard is stealing champagne from the French.”

“Do you have proof of his involvement?”

“Only the word of an informant. Apparently he’s moving large shipments from France,” he said with a degree of frustration.

“You can’t go out night after night prowling the roads trying to catch him in the act, Aiden.”

“What choice do I have?”

“You need a plan.”

He had thought he had a plan, but with increasing frequency Nash had proved elusive. Then Tess had stepped into his path and everything changed. “I have a plan.” Simply uttering the words, the tension rolled off him as a wave on an outgoing tide. He was a military man, a planner, structured.

He hooked his gaze with Beswick and nodded with grim determination. “You’re right. I don’t need to chase him on the byways waiting for him to hold up the next group of unsuspecting travelers. I need to catch him as he’s unloading and to do that I need to get closer to him.”

Swallowing back his drink, Beswick shot him a confused glance. “Pretty damned impossible, I’d say.”

Aiden’s mouth curved into a tight smile. “Not now that I’m marrying Miss Stanhope. Getting close to her will get me close to Gibbs and hopefully Nash.”

“You’re going to use her.”

Aiden shrugged off the sudden disquiet worming through him. “Why not? She’s using me.”

“Marry her, and then what?”

Yes. What exactly?

Resting his fingertips together he stared balefully at the flames licking at the logs in the fireplace. “Criminals are greedy, my friend—and impatient. Once Nash hears I’ve married Miss Stanhope, he’ll get nervous. And nervous people make mistakes. I just need to bide my time.”

“Really? I did not have you pegged as a patient man,” his friend quipped with a crooked smile. “And certainly it would not be classed as one of your virtues.”

“I have virtues?”

“Not likely,” Beswick agreed with a chuckle.

“I’ll be patient. If it means I get Nash, then wait I must. Though, God help me, it has taken its time. Besides, if Miss Stanhope’s uncle is in cahoots with Nash, she has to have seen something, or heard something. Gibbs postulates to anyone who’ll listen and I would bet my last guinea the man has said something to his wife and niece. He is a braggart and likes to play the
big man
in front of people.”

“And in the meantime you get to enjoy the delights of Miss Stanhope.”

Aiden choked on his whiskey. “Delights! Miss Stanhope, I agree, is rather beautiful, but she will keep me on my toes,” he answered, remembering her courage to take to the roads on her own. He drained his glass and pushed up from the chair, tugging out his pocket watch from his waistcoat. “’Tis late. I must leave.”

“Shame. I thought we could while away the morn together.”

Aiden shook his head, rubbing a hand across gritty eyes. “Afraid not, old friend. I’m about to go and get affianced.”

…

Millie knocked and then quickly entered the chamber. “He has arrived, Miss,” she flustered, cheeks tinged pink, “and he is very handsome.”

Her stomach felt as if it were atop a riderless horse careening across the fields with no way to stop.

“Is he?” Her mouth dried, her tongue suddenly thick and unable to slake her moistureless lips. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Liar.

She had noticed everything about Aiden Masters the very first night they had met and though he may have been covered with blood, nothing had doused the essential beauty of the man. And she’d been staring out her bedchamber window awaiting his arrival for the last fifteen minutes.

She swallowed back her nerves. “Is he in the library?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Very well.” Rubbing her suddenly sweaty palms down the side of her gown, she glanced briefly at herself in the full-length cheval. She wore a simple gown of soft blue with sprigs of flowers embroidered along the curve of the scooped neckline. It was her best morning gown.

A frown creased her brow. Was she making too much of an effort?

“Silly girl.” The man was here because she had cornered him, definitely not because he wanted to be. She had the upper hand in this event, something she needed to remember and use to her advantage.

She leaned forward and peered at herself. At her lips. She traced their outline again, something she found herself doing repeatedly, dreaming of that kiss. Wanting another.

“So silly.” Her hand fell away and she straightened. She needed not love, nor kisses, but freedom. Love would not enter into this marriage, for to replicate the beauty her parents shared would be impossible.

Spinning away from her reflection, she nodded to Millie. “Right, I think it is time I went to meet my future husband.”

A few minutes later, about to open the door to the library, Tess hesitated as a wash of uncertainty stalled her progress.

What if he called her bluff?

Forced to marry a man of her uncle’s choosing…or blackmail?

Stand tall, proud and determined
, her mother used to say. Time to remember that.

Shoulders back, Tess pushed open the door, her gaze catching sight of him the moment she entered the room.