- Home
- Tessa Dare
His Bride for the Taking Page 7
His Bride for the Taking Read online
Page 7
He opened the door.
“Believe me, I have an excellent reason.” Giles Perry stood on the threshold, holding a lantern in his left hand. He wore a dark cape flung over his shoulders and a murderous expression on his face. “I’ve come to do this.”
He drew back his fist and punched Sebastian square in the ribs.
Oof. The blow took Sebastian by surprise. But that was about all it did. Perry hadn’t the bulk or strength to deliver a bruising punch. Sebastian didn’t even reel a step backward. Looking into Perry’s pitifully disappointed face, he almost felt a bit sheepish about his lack of response. He wondered if perhaps he ought to double over and feign a dramatic groan just to be polite.
But then he recalled that this was the man who’d left Mary waiting at the altar—and Sebastian had no further inclinations to pity.
“How dare you come here,” he growled.
“How dare you be here,” Perry replied, indignant.
“This is my house. I’ve every right to be here.”
“You don’t have any right to be here with her.” Perry ducked under Sebastian’s arm and entered the cottage. “I’ve come to rescue Mary.”
“Rescue her from what? A surfeit of orgasms?”
“From you, you…rutting blackguard.”
Oh, now that was too much. “Listen, you puling jackass. You have no claim on Mary any longer. That ended when you abandoned your promises and left her waiting at the altar alone. The only reason you don’t have a bullet hole through your chest is because she begged me to spare your miserable life.”
“What are you on about? I didn’t abandon her.”
“I’m fairly certain you did. I was there, and you weren’t.”
“Because I honored her request. Mary broke it off. Not me.”
“You lying little—”
“He’s not lying.” Mary stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in one of his shirts. “He’s telling the truth. I’m the one who called the wedding off.”
Sebastian shook his head in disbelief. “That can’t be. It doesn’t make any sense.”
Perry moved to confront her directly. “You ran away with this brigand? Willingly?”
“He’s not a brigand. How did you find us here?”
“The coachman told me, when he finally returned. I’d hired that carriage by the hour, I hope you know.” He shook his head in irritation. “This was supposed to be a discreet agreement. You become a spinster, I get a seat in the House of Commons.”
“You’ll still be an MP. It’s not as though you need to win votes. You’re buying a rotten borough. With my dowry, I might add.”
Sebastian couldn’t have heard that correctly. “You gave him your dowry?”
“Yes.” She descended the remainder of the stairs. “In exchange for releasing me from the engagement on such late notice.”
“I should have never agreed,” Perry said. “I’ve a promising future in Parliament, you know. I could be Prime Minister one day. Many people are saying it. When this news gets about, you will have made me the laughingstock of London.”
“Oh, Giles. Please. No one thinks about you half as much as you believe they do.”
“I beg your pardon. I’m in the newspapers at least twice a year.”
“You’re a man, from an influential family. You’ll weather the scandal, buy your seat in Parliament. From there you can make your reputation in politics—and, I might add, a far better match. If anything, people will believe you had a close escape. They’ll assume it was my fault, and that you were well rid of me.”
Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Help me out here, Mary. If you’d called off the wedding that morning, why did you come to the church? With all your belongings packed, no less?”
She looked everywhere but at him.
“Oh my God. You planned this?”
“In a way. I couldn’t be certain you’d suggest we elope. But I prepared for it, just in case you did.”
“You told me you didn’t want to elope. You argued against it.”
“I argue against everything. It’s in my blood.” She bit her lip. “If I’d agreed too easily, you might have been suspicious.”
He turned away, pushing a hand through his hair. “This is unbelievable.”
“I’m so sorry. It was wrong of me. But for a year now, I’ve been so worried about you. You never called on me anymore. I realized I couldn’t go through with the wedding months ago and—”
“Months ago?” Perry squawked.
Sebastian wheeled to face him. “Why are you even still here?”
“Because.” Perry tugged on his waistcoat. “I believe I’m owed an apology, too.”
“You’re sure as hell not getting one from me.”
“I’m sorry, Giles.” Mary approached him. “Truly sorry. I should have broken it off ages ago. But I would have done you a greater disservice by becoming your wife. I think we both know that we weren’t suited to one another.”
“Perhaps not, but—” Perry made a disgusted gesture in Sebastian’s direction. “Of all men, did it have to be him?”
“Yes.” She glanced at Sebastian. “Of all men, it had to be him.”
Emotion gripped his heart like a fist.
“You heard my lady,” he said to Perry. “Now you can leave. Go back to London and amuse yourself by further corrupting Parliament.”
Perry finally moved to leave the cottage. “I’ll have you know,” he said, hand on the door latch, “that I have several plans for the benefit of the poor and infirm.”
“Just get out.”
At last, the man was gone.
Sebastian turned to his deceitful bride.
She clutched her hands together in front of her. “I owe you a great many explanations.”
“You can offer all the explanations you like, but there is no excuse for this.”
“Will you at least hear me out?”
First, he had a few things to say of his own. “You lied to me. You led me to believe you were jilted, alone, vulnerable. When Henry and I went off to war, I made a vow to protect you if he didn’t come back. The past few days, I’ve tortured myself. Knowing that I kept that promise to guard you as best I could, and at the same time believing it came at the cost of your happiness. Now I learn that was only a falsehood. How much of the rest of it was lies, too?”
“None of it. I swear. Everything else was the truth.” She approached him. “I know I lied about being jilted. That was wrong of me. But if you care for me, and want to raise a family together… Is it really so terrible to learn that it was you I loved all along?”
“I don’t know if I can believe that now.”
He could scarcely believe those three words when she’d spoken them the first time. How the hell was he supposed to accept them now?
“You think I would lie to you? About the day I learned of my own brother’s death?” Her voice shook with emotion. “If that’s how little you think of me, we can annul the marriage. No one knows we went through with it, save for the coachman and Giles. And Dick and Fanny, but who would they tell?”
“The Church knows. I know. We said vows. We’ve had…” He motioned impatiently. “…marital relations.”
Well, look at that. He’d come up with a polite term all on his own.
“A marriage can be annulled on grounds of fraud,” she said. “If that’s what you allege, I won’t fight it.”
“Oh, I’ll be damned if I’ll annul this marriage. You’re not getting off that easy.” He inhaled slowly, trying to steady himself. “I’m far from a perfect man. But if there’s one thing I value above all else, it’s keeping my promises.”
“I know that.”
“Precisely, Mary. You know that. You know that. And you used it against me.”
She nodded slowly. “You’re right, I did. I see that now. Perhaps it is unforgivable.”
She turned and quietly climbed the stairs.
Sebastian didn’t follow her.
Mary spen
t the rest of the night pacing, weeping, and hoping against hope that she might hear his footfalls on the steps. That he might come to her, allow her to apologize, consider giving her another chance.
Before Giles had arrived, they’d been on the verge of something truly wonderful. And because of her stupidity, she’d set them back years. She didn’t know how she’d convince him to trust her again. But no matter how long it took, she wouldn’t give up.
As dawn broke, she finally heard the sounds of stirring downstairs. She ran to the door and pressed her ear against it, holding her breath.
No footfalls.
Instead, she heard the sound of carriage wheels crunching on the gravel drive. Heading away.
No.
Mary looked about the room, panicked. Good Lord, she was still barefoot and dressed in nothing but his shirt. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to change out of it.
There was no time to find something else.
She flew from the room, hurrying down the stairs on bare feet and reeling around a corner in her mad dash for the front door. “Sebastian! Sebastian, wait! Don’t le—”
Oof. As she opened the door, she collided with something.
Something tall and strong and wonderful.
“Sebastian.” She threw her arms about his neck and hugged him tight. “Thank God you’re still here. I thought you’d left me.”
“I told you I wouldn’t leave you. What would make you think that?”
She pulled back and searched his eyes. “The coach. I heard it leaving.”
“Ah, yes. That would have been Dick and Fanny making their departure.”
“You don’t mean that you sacked them? I know they’re terrible, but they meant well.”
“I did not sack them,” he said. “I’ve sent them away on holiday. To Ramsgate.”
She blinked at him, stunned. “Sebastian, you didn’t.”
“I did. They’re to have a room at the finest establishment, with full board and all expenses paid, for a week. And we”—he put his hands on her waist—“are on our own.”
“Just the two of us?”
He nodded.
“For a whole week?”
“I’m afraid so.” He shook his head, as if in dismay. “We’ll have to prepare our own food. Split our own wood. Nothing to do but stroll on the beach in the afternoons and sit by the fire in the evenings with a glass of wine.” His eyes darkened. “Well, that and go to bed early.”
“Oh, dear. What a trial.” She put her hand to his cheek. “Does that mean you’ve forgiven me?”
“I’m not sure. I’m still put out with you, and I spent the whole night thinking on it. You lied to me.”
“I know.”
“But then, you also gave up your dowry and the chance at a secure marriage, risking ruin and spinsterhood for me. Which seems as though it ought to count for something, too.”
“I only did it because I loved you so much. I hoped perhaps you felt something for me, but I knew you’d never do anything about it. If I told you how I felt, you would have fled as quickly as Shadow could carry you. You would never have married me unless you believed you were coming to my rescue.”
“I wish I could contradict that, but I suspect you’re right.”
“I’m always right.”
He gave her a look.
“Often right,” she amended. “If it helps, my first plan didn’t feature deceit at all. I was going to simply seduce you. But I didn’t have the confidence that I could pull it off.”
His mouth quirked at the corner. “Oh, you could have pulled it off.”
“Really?”
“Without a doubt.” He drew her close, resting his forehead to hers. “Mary, Mary. Can you truly love me that much?”
“More. You should have seen my third plan if this one didn’t work. There were highwaymen.”
He laughed.
It was a warm, unburdened laugh that made her heart soar.
She’d disarmed him now. He couldn’t keep her out any more.
“I love you,” he murmured. “God, it feels good to say that at last. I love you, Mary.”
He bent to kiss her, then stopped. “I’ve just thought of something. If your trunks weren’t packed for a honeymoon with Giles Perry, does that mean all those negligees were truly—”
“For you?” She smiled. “Yes.”
“Are there more of them?”
“Take me upstairs and find out.”
She didn’t have to ask twice. He bent down, lashed an arm around her thighs, and flung her over his shoulder before mounting the stairs.
Mary hoped he’d pieced that bed together correctly. Because it would be put to the test all week long.
Epilogue
“Come away from the window, darling,” Mary said. “You’re leaving nose prints on the glass.”
Henry pouted. “You said Papa would be here in time for tea.”
“He will be. He promised, and your father always keeps his promises.”
Mary was eager for Sebastian to arrive, too. Tending all four of their children during his absence had left her frayed at the edges. When they were in London or at Byrne Hall, she had a nursemaid to help, but when they took their annual holiday here in the cottage, they preferred to keep it family only. With the addition of Dick and Fanny Cross, of course.
She shifted Molly, her youngest, to the other arm and wiped the spittle from her chubby face. The poor dear was cutting a new tooth. At least William had gone upstairs for a nap, but Jane and Henry wouldn’t cease bickering.
Someday, Mary would finish her latest strident letter to the editor of The Times—but it wouldn’t be today.
“Papa will most likely be late,” Jane said.
“No, he won’t.”
“He will be. On account of the rain.”
“It’s not raining,” Henry objected.
“Not now, not here. But it was raining hard an hour ago. The clouds have shifted since. So it’s likely raining on him now. He may even have to stop over somewhere.”
Mary shushed them both. “He’ll be here. He’d never miss one of your birthdays.”
“It’s an easy enough promise to keep, considering three of our birthdays are all in the same month. Henry’s the only one left out.” Jane crinkled her nose in thought. “It’s rather a coincidence, isn’t it?”
Mary only smiled. It was no coincidence at all that three of their four children had been born in March. Not when one considered that they spent a holiday at the Kentish seaside every June.
There was just something about that bed.
Mary dearly hoped she wasn’t around when Jane finally puzzled out the truth. She was far too clever, that one.
She set Molly down on the floor to play, then invited Henry to sit on her lap. “Henry, have I told you about the night you were born?”
Jane rolled her eyes. “Only hundreds of times.”
Mary ignored her eldest’s complaint and wrapped her arms around Henry. “You came early. I was at Byrne Hall, and your Papa was in London. I sent a message to him by express, but I thought he couldn’t possibly arrive before you did. I should never have doubted. Your father rode all night—in the rain, mind—and arrived just in time to welcome you into the world. He was there for your first birthday, and he’ll be here to see you turn six. Never doubt it.”
Molly pressed a sticky hand to the window. “Papa!”
“See?” Henry gave his older sister a superior look. “I told you he’d be here in time for tea.”
“And I told you it was raining,” she replied.
Sebastian came through the door, dripping with rainwater and stamping the mud from his boots. “I heard there’s a young master here who’s six years of age. Who could that be?”
“It’s me!” Henry rushed to give his father a hug.
He was closely followed by Jane.
Molly toddled over and made grabby hands. “Papa, up.”
William scrambled downstairs, rubbing the sleep from his
eyes, and jumped on his father’s back.
Mary exchanged amused glances with her husband. “You look like a children tree.”
An exceedingly handsome children tree. Even all these years later, he never failed to take her breath away.
“Come have cake, Papa.”
“Can we go sea-bathing tomorrow?”
“Did you bring us sweets from Town?”
“Papapapapapa.”
She came to his rescue, shooing them away. “Give your father a rest, all of you. Go help Mrs. Cross set the table for tea.”
Once they’d all run off, she was finally able to greet Sebastian with a kiss of her own. “In case you couldn’t tell, you were very much missed.” She helped him out of his coat. “Was the road terrible?”
“Shadow and I have been through worse.”
“I’m so glad you’re here. Your children are exhausting.”
He chuckled. “I’ll take them down to the seaside tomorrow so you can have a rest.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Oh, I do.” His arms went around her, and his voice went dark. “You’re going to need a rest tomorrow, because I mean to keep you up late tonight.”
The kiss he gave her was one of boundless love and intense passion, and it conveyed an unmistakable message:
She’d better not make any plans for next March.
A Note from the Author
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed His Bride for the Taking. If you feel so inclined, please recommend this book to a friend or post an honest review. Recommendations and reviews help other readers find new books to enjoy.
Keep turning pages for a peek at my latest books!
The best way to receive updates on new releases is to sign up for my email newsletter at:
tessadare.com/newsletter-signup
Available October 2019
How the Dukes Stole Christmas
A Christmas Romance Anthology
From the ballrooms of London, to abandoned Scottish castles, to the snowy streets of Gilded Age New York, four bestselling authors whip up unforgettable Christmas romance.
“Meet Me in Mayfair” by Tessa Dare