The Marshal Meets His Match (31 page)

BOOK: The Marshal Meets His Match
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Once out of sight and sound of the gathered wedding guests, Meri wrapped her arms around Wyatt and snuggled into his side. She peeked up at him through her lashes. “We’re married, Mr. Cameron.”

“I do believe that’s what the preacher said, Mrs. Cameron.” He squeezed her close and kissed her slowly, quite forgetting the animals attached to the other end of the reins.

In time the absence of motion alerted them to the fact the horses had taken advantage of their freedom to graze along the roadside, and Wyatt tightened up the sagging reins. Meri looped her arms around Wyatt’s arm as he gently reminded the horses of their responsibility to carry them home, and a comfortable silence fell as they reveled in each other’s presence and quick stolen kisses.

They were within sight of their home when Meri spoke. “Now that we’re married, I believe you have something to tell me.”

“I do?” He dropped a kiss on her upturned lips.

“You do. Now quit distracting me and ‘fess up. Why wouldn’t you tell me your name?”

He laughed. “Because wives can’t testify against their husbands, and you weren’t my wife yet.”

Meri gently slapped his arm. “Be serious. What’s so bad about your name?”

“It’s a sad story.” He sighed so tragically that Meri giggled at the affectation. “A month or two before I was born, mother was reading Shakespeare’s
Twelfth Night
. She fell in love with one of the names in the book, and when I was born, she decided to burden me with it. Mother was the only one who ever used it, but I finally convinced her to stop about the time I was ten. I was tired of having to fight the boys who laughed at me when they heard her use my full name. And I think Mother was tired of patching me up.”

Meri had read
Twelfth Night
years ago, but couldn’t recall any names that would explain Wyatt’s reluctance to share his full name.

He took a deep breath; released it. “My full name is Wyatt Valentine Cameron.”

Meri kept a straight face with much difficulty, but her eyes were sparkling with glee. “I don’t remember a Valentine in the book.” She loved his name, and he looked absolutely disgusted.

“He was a minor character—Duke Orsino’s attendant. Do you see why I dislike it?”

“No, I’m like your mother, I love the name Valentine.”

“Thank you,” he said dryly, “but you didn’t have to grow up with it. Please don’t use it in public, or I will have to resort to drastic measures.”

Meri shrieked as his fingers tickled her ribs, and the horses flinched at the sudden outburst. Her giggles filled the air as the horses pulled the buggy up to the barn and stopped, looking back as if exasperated at the foolishness behind them.

Wyatt swung down from the buggy and reached for his new wife. He cuddled her close, ignoring her wiggling, and walked to the shady side of the barn to set her on her feet. “Stay there.” His twinkling eyes softened the command.

He unhitched the horses and turned them into the grassy paddock, making quick work of hanging up the harness. Then he returned, swept her into his arms again and walked toward the sparkling new little house. Stepping onto the porch, he opened the door and carried his bride over the threshold, kicking the door closed behind them.

“Have I told you today that I love you, Mrs. Cameron?”

Meri sighed happily. “If you did, I’ve forgotten. Say it again, please.”

Her arms wound snugly around his neck, her fingers luxuriating in the feel of his hair. She was content to stay in the safe haven of his strong arms forever.

“I love you, Mrs. Cameron.” His nose touched hers.


I
love
you,
Wyatt Valentine.” There was a twinkle in her eyes as she spoke.

He groaned, resting his forehead against hers. “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to regret wanting you to use my name, Mac?”

“That’s Mrs. Cameron to you, and you asked me to call you by your name. I’m going to be a good, dutiful wife and obey you.” It was hard to be prim and innocent when you were giggling.

He pulled his head back and gave her an incredulous look. “I’ll believe
that
when I see it.”

“Oh!” Meri’s eyes widened as a thought suddenly occurred to her.

“What?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“We should have waited to be married until February 14!”

“And that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you my full name, Mrs. Cameron.” He plopped down onto the lovely new divan and started pulling pins from her elegant chignon.

“But it would have been perfect! On Valentine’s Day, I would marry my very own Valentine!”

Wyatt snarled menacingly and tickled her ribs until helpless giggles pealed forth, filling the room with the happy sound.

“Stop, Wyatt Valentine Cameron!” she gasped breathlessly, futilely trying to escape.

“Hmm…if that doesn’t work, maybe this will shut you up.” He nestled her close, imprisoning her lips with his own in a bone-melting kiss.

Meri began to giggle again, and Wyatt pulled back, puzzled. “What’s so funny?”

“If this is the consequence of using your full name, I’ll never call you anything else, Wyatt Valentine!”

Wyatt Valentine Cameron was more than happy to mete out her punishment swiftly and thoroughly.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt of
A Royal Marriage
by Rachelle McCalla!

Dear Reader,

It is a beautiful spring morning as I write this. My windows are open, the birds are singing, the trees are sporting bright new frocks and the breeze carries hints of fragrant blossoms. My little corner of the world is coming to life after a dreary winter, much like the fictional town of Little Creek, Colorado. Although it is springtime in the Rockies, it is still very much winter in Meri McIsaac’s grieving heart. But a spring thaw is on its way. In the shape of a bossy marshal.

I hope you enjoy Meri and Wyatt’s story, and I thank you for picking up my first book.

I would love to hear from my readers; you can visit me at
www.facebook.com/ClariDees
or drop me a line at
[email protected]
.

Until we meet again,

Clari Dees

Questions for Discussion

 
  1. As the story opens, the storekeeper’s wife is giving unwanted advice to Meri McIsaac. Does Meri handle the situation appropriately? Why or why not? How do you handle unwanted advice?
  2. Meri’s best friend is Franks, a former slave. Do you think this would have been an unusual friendship in 1883?
  3. Meri is still struggling with the loss of her mother almost a year after her death. Do you think this is realistic? Why or why not?
  4. What do you think of Meri’s attitude when she meets Marshal Cameron for the first time? Should she have handled his teasing differently? How do you handle someone teasing you?
  5. Meri is a rough-and-tumble ranch girl, but she isn’t comfortable in a town setting. She prefers her horse to lots of people. What about you? Do you prefer to be with lots of different people, or do you prefer your own company and a few close friends?
  6. When wounded Mr. McIsaac takes a turn for the worse, Meri asks the elders of her church to come pray for him. Is this something you would do? What did you think of the outcome?
  7. Wyatt Cameron is attracted to Meri, but he has reasons for not wanting a serious relationship. What were those reasons? Do you think they were valid?
  8. Mr. Samuels was not a well-liked man. Did he bring it on himself? Do you think this contributed to his problems? If someone had tried harder to befriend him, would it have changed his self-destructive course?
  9. When Meri finally confesses her anger, she is able to move past her mother’s death. Have you ever been angry? How did you deal with it?
  10. Did you enjoy Meri and Wyatt’s story? Did you like the setting? Was the ending satisfactory?

We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Historical title.

You find illumination in days gone by.
Love Inspired Historical
stories lift the spirit as heroines tackle the challenges of life in another era with hope, faith and a focus on family.

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Chapter One

Castlehead, Lydia, A.D. 801

“A
ship approaches, Your Majesty. Her sail is spread with the Carolingian cross.” Renwick, chief messenger among the Lydian guard, bowed low before the king.

“Charlemagne.” His Royal Highness, King John of Lydia, lowered the sword with which he’d been sparring with his younger brother, Prince Luke. Why would the Holy Roman Emperor send a ship to Lydia unannounced? Charlemagne’s realm had expanded vastly under his leadership, but John had assumed the renowned ruler would have no interest in the tiny kingdom of Lydia. Was he wrong?

King John turned to face the messenger. “She approaches directly?”

“Making for the wharf at high speed, sire,” Renwick panted as though he, too, had run to reach the king quickly.

“Then we shall make haste, as well.” Sheathing his sword, John headed for the courtyard gate, the fastest route to the Mediterranean shore.

“To the lookout tower, Your Majesty?” Renwick appeared confused by the king’s choice of direction.

“No, Renwick.” John led the way. “To the wharf.”

Prince Luke ran beside him. “Why would Charlemagne visit Lydia? We are not his vassals.”

“I doubt it is Charlemagne himself,” King John acknowledged. “The emperor regularly sends emissaries throughout his empire to report back to him.” He prayed that was true this time, irregular though it might seem.

“But Lydia is not part of his empire.” Luke chafed visibly at the idea.

“We are part of Christendom. As such, we ought to ally ourselves closely with the Holy Roman Empire. Such a position could prove to be advantageous.” John reached the end of the wharf and shielded his eyes from the sun, examining the quickly approaching vessel, her sails emblazoned with the distinctive Carolingian cross, four triquetras joined at the center to form the distinctive symbol of Emperor Charlemagne’s reign.

“Three masts!” The sight filled John with awe. Lydia had no ship to match it. And yet, “She looks to be wounded.”

“Aye, brother.” Luke clapped one hand on John’s shoulder and pointed with the other. “Her foresail has been rent and hastily mended. Do you think she has weathered a storm?”

“Or an attack.” John met his brother’s eyes.

“Saracens?” Prince Luke spoke the word softly, as though saying it aloud might draw the vicious pirates closer.

“They raid the Mediterranean waters regularly.”

“Never so close to Lydia.”

“We don’t know how far this ship has come,” King John acknowledged. “Or whether the Saracens may have taken her.”

“Taken her?” Fear sparked in his brother’s blue eyes as he looked out to the ship and back at the ramparts of their castle. If the pirates had taken the ship, they could approach under Charlemagne’s cross and dock before the Lydians realized trouble had reached their shores. The castle’s defenses might be breached before they could even prepare for battle. “Why would Saracens approach so boldly?”

“For no good reason.” John shook his head. He didn’t want to believe that Saracen pirates had taken the emperor’s ship, but given her condition, it was a distinct possibility. “Let us pray for Lydia’s safety.”

While the brothers murmured hasty yet heartfelt prayers, King John heard the rumble of boot steps on the wharf. He turned to find Eliab and Urias, two courtiers who’d been his father’s close advisors, panting as they trotted down the wharf.

“Your Majesty,” Urias called out. “You should not be out here!”

“This does not look good.” Eliab gestured to the ship as he bent to catch his breath.

“His Majesty should hide until we’ve determined the motives of the approaching vessel.”

John dismissed their concerns. The pair often treated him as though he was still a child, though he’d weathered twenty-eight winters and had ruled Lydia capably since his father’s death four years before. “I may determine their motives much faster if I stay here.”

“They’ve put down a boat!” Renwick had hardly taken his eyes from the ship.

“They’re worthy seamen, then.” John approved of the ship’s rapid loss of speed. They’d obviously put down an anchor. It was wise. He’d never docked such a large vessel alongside the wharf, and though he couldn’t be sure the depth of the ship’s rudder, he doubted they’d have made it to the dock without scraping against the submerged rocks that hid not so far below the water at low tide.

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