Compromised into Marriage Read online

  ‘You are evil.’

  ‘No. I told you. That was my sister, Evil Etta.’ She touched a hand over her breast. ‘Or did I tell you that was my mother?’ She contemplated Everleigh. ‘Everleigh. Do I lie?’

  ‘Ella Etta, you try never to let truth influence your words.’ He lifted a stick and used it to poke the burned firewood closer to the flames.

  ‘I may have told a lie to get Alexandria to leave you be. But I promise you both, she wasn’t using her thoughts. I had to send her on her way with a tale that will make her content to leave.’

  ‘You put a curse on me.’

  Ella Etta glared. ‘I might have said words, but you wanted to hear them.’ She paused. ‘Everleigh, what did I tell you long ago?’

  ‘A curse only works if the mind wants it to. A free spirit cannot be cursed.’

  ‘I say a lot. Maybe I say my curses are like feathers to tickle the mind. Only stick to wet, puddle-headed people.’ She looked at Vivian. ‘I read palms, too. I taught Everleigh as well.’

  ‘She told me I would marry a beautiful princess,’ Everleigh said, smiling towards Vivian.

  Ella Etta sighed, raised her hands slightly, and said, ‘Sometimes, I make an error.’

  ‘You vicious witch.’ Vivian jumped to her feet. ‘You came to my house and scared me to death.’

  ‘I needed a bowl. And don’t worry about a curse on your mother. I would not harm a hair on a mother’s head. Children give them enough grief.’

  Vivian stalked to the vehicle.

  ‘I needed a bowl,’ she heard Ella Etta say again.

  * * *

  Everleigh watched Vivian march to his carriage. High dudgeon sat well with her, her fists doubled and her skirt flying almost too tight for the length of her footsteps.

  ‘She ruffles,’ Ella Etta said to Everleigh when Vivian left the camp.

  He nodded, keeping his voice low. ‘You should not have meddled with Vivian. You should not have told her to wed me.’

  ‘You do not sleep again, Everleigh. I see the light at night when you visit Wildewood. I send her to help with that. She’ll make you sleep.’

  He shook his head. ‘No.’

  ‘You need a wife.’

  ‘But at what cost to her?’

  She shook her head and her nose moved as if she’d smelled a bad odour, then she laughed. ‘Give your father many heirs to distract him from his concerns about who will get his title. I want to see your children. See if they favour you. Many times, I sent you away from the camp, happy, but then fearing the wrath of your parents. Later you would return, even dragging along your brother when he was old enough.’

  ‘Eating here was better than eating in the nursery. The food from around the fire always tasted better. At first, it was like walking to the edge of the crevasse, seeing how close I could get into your family. Then I discovered you would fluster if I knocked over the firewood, or got near the tinctures.’

  ‘Some could have poisoned you if you tried them. The little heir would never listen.’

  ‘You liked chasing me into the woods, flailing a stick.’

  She snorted. ‘When your grandfather discovered you were visiting us, he said we were to leave. You told your father and he insisted we be left alone.’

  ‘Father always disagreed with Grandfather. It was a manoeuvre. Father relished having something he could control in his household. So did I.’

  She laughed. ‘Your father cannot leave you just as he couldn’t leave your mother. You are his curse. Your mother’s revenge. Each time he sees your eyes the curse revisits him. You have your mother’s eyes. It makes him remember the siren he disliked, but could not keep himself from wanting. The lovely one who could control him as easily as the wind controls leaves and she didn’t care for him at all.’

  ‘You never spoke with her. How could you be so certain?’

  ‘You told me so much as a child and never knew the true meaning of your words.’

  ‘I’m sure I always spoke well of her.’

  ‘You described her well. If a boy didn’t know a serpent was poison, he might think it a thing of beauty. That was your mother. Men could not see her venom. Even her father only saw the serpent’s beauty. In death, she left behind the family she sprinkled her harm over and it still surrounds your heart.’

  Chapter Eleven

  When he stepped inside the carriage, Everleigh saw Vivian huddled in the seat and he lowered himself beside her instead of moving across. She was sitting so tight, like a bundled cocoon. An upset one.

  He had the ridiculous urge to say I told you so and watch her ruffle. And, he had a more ridiculous urge to pull her into his arms and soothe her, and himself.

  Holding Vivian close would make the trip back to London pass in a heartbeat, but it wouldn’t help his nights pass any faster. He had to keep his distance. It wasn’t fair to her to make her think he would offer her more than a passing illusion.

  ‘Well, you must be pleased now.’ He gave her a smile and resisted the urge to give a bear growl. ‘No curse.’ He whispered, ‘But you made a nice rabbit. The whiskers not too long. And I liked the ears.’ He lifted his hand over his head, shaping imaginary ears.

  ‘I pursued you—’ she bit down on the words ‘—for naught.’

  He frowned, pretending puzzlement. ‘Is that how you see it? Ella Etta thought you were pleased.’

  ‘Ha. She has a bigger imagination than any I’ve ever seen.’

  He laughed. ‘I told you that. If you’d believed me about her curse in the first place—’ He stopped. ‘You were ill, Vivian. I did see the physician Gavin Hamilton yesterday. I asked him about you and told him about your illness. He thought the cures the physician mixed were making you ill.’

  ‘I can’t believe you defend Ella Etta.’

  ‘If she is the one who helped you to recovery, then I will be grateful to her for ever.’

  ‘I don’t know whether to hate her or hug her.’

  He nodded. ‘I do.’ He reached out, taking her hand, and only needing a slight amount of pressure to pry it from the cocoon. ‘I can read palms, too.’

  He pulled the fingers of the glove away.

  Vivian felt his fingertip run the length of her palm, sending his touch deep into her body. She tried to make a fist, but his grip wouldn’t let her.

  ‘Vivian,’ he cajoled, ‘don’t hide your lifeline from me. It’s long, like you. Sinewy. Not so wiry as this brief line.’

  ‘How can you truly see it in the dim light of the carriage? Open the shades.’

  ‘Can’t risk you getting seen. Besides, I can see enough. This thin line bothers me a great deal.’

  He moved, so she could peer at her skin. ‘There’s no line there.’

  ‘This sparse line that is so small that it’s invisible... I fear it is a line for laughter.’

  She tried to jerk her hand away again. He let her, then he let his throat rumble into a growl.

  ‘You beast,’ she shot back.

  ‘Bear,’ he corrected. He clutched her hand again, holding it in a light clasp. Tenderness gentled his words. ‘Vivian. Are you satisfied you’re not cursed?’ His touch reminded her of the summer sun, warming deep past the surface.

  ‘I suppose. But I’m so angry about the curse. All that nonsense.’

  He gave Vivian’s hand a squeeze. ‘Sometimes Ella Etta fed two boys who would run from the house in the morning and not return until dark.’

  ‘Your parents didn’t mind. Or your governess, or tutor?’

  ‘My mother had a temper where servants were concerned. They were always sacked quickly and replaced slowly. She and Father would be gone for weeks and weeks, searching out new staff. They would return home with boxes of new dresses and gifts for me and my brother.’

  ‘They should have watched over you.’

  ‘We d
id just fine. We found our own way.’

  ‘That sounds sad.’

  ‘It wasn’t particularly. Roaming the lands was idyllic.’ He squeezed her hand again. ‘Good memories. The men taught me to strike flint to make a fire and traded me one chicken for the flint.’ He shrugged. ‘I didn’t have to even steal the chicken. They did. It was fun to talk with them over what they might steal. Once, I had to toss a blanket from an upstairs window at midnight and later Ella Etta wrapped me in it when I visited her.’

  The carriage bounced as it turned a curve. Vivian balanced against the window. ‘Did your father dislike you?’

  ‘No. My brother and I were his coins. We were Grandfather’s heirs. The reason he could have the roof over his head, and the carriages, and the gambling trips to London to enjoy his status. Grandfather would visit and Father would leave. Finally, he left for good until Grandfather died.’

  He leaned across her, and pulled at the shade. ‘Wildewood. The one thing my father holds with the title. But he didn’t have the funds to put a roof on it. And...’ he leaned back, letting the shade fall in place ‘...all prisons do not have bars. Some have velvet sofas.’

  Everleigh didn’t like the truth of his own words. ‘I am a gaoler. My father has no funds of his own. Sometimes he likes to gamble and sometimes to drink the best brandy. For the money he wishes to gamble away, he has to come to me and ask. A letter will not suffice. I do not answer them. He has to present himself to me. I always give him the funds. A few years ago, the sums became vast. Now, he can gamble, but he cannot wager more than is in his pocket. When he does that the world around him narrows. So, he knows he will get what he asks for, but he has to ask.’

  ‘You shouldn’t.’

  ‘I didn’t do this. Until my mother’s portrait was ruined.’ He rubbed a hand over his neck. ‘After she died, I walked in and two black spots had been painted where the eyes were. My father had them corrected, but it is obvious to me. It’s never been the same.’

  * * *

  They were within an hour from her home, Vivian knew, but she left the ridiculous bonnet in her lap, rolling the ribbon ties into a curl, then unrolling and repeating. Everleigh’s view flicked to the window.

  He stretched his legs and looked in her direction, the place between his brows furrowing. ‘Do you believe in love?’

  ‘Of course. My parents love each other. Even with their difficulties. Mother will eventually find the right time and she’ll tell Father about this trip. He will be angry, but she will explain and it will all work out.’

  ‘I decided I had found a proximity to it with Alexandria. All was wonderful and she was witty. Then one day, she was speaking with her father and I saw how she manipulated him into doing exactly as she wished, just as she did with me. I decided she wasn’t so delightful and, the more I moved back from her presence, the less amusing she became.’

  He used his thumb to trace the bottom of the window. ‘I imagine that my mother and Alexandria had similar personalities. They are so friendly, so nice, so kind when they want something from you, or to manipulate you. But they turn into serpents when they believe there is no cost to them.’

  ‘You fear letting someone so close they can use you in that way.’

  ‘I would not say I fear it. I would say I refuse it.’

  ‘I should understand.’ She lowered her fingers and slapped the bonnet. ‘When I was ill, I believed myself in love. Lord Barrow had asked me to wed him. My mother begged me to think about it, then he and my father discussed the wedding contract. My mother told me I should approve of Lord Barrow’s requests and put the papers in front of me. I made sure he disappeared faster than a fog on a hot day.’

  She grimaced. ‘Then later, I realised I didn’t ever admire him. Even though I knew I didn’t care for him, it was months before I could stop myself from thinking of him. By then, he had already married someone else.’

  Sighing, she arranged the ribbons around the brim on the bonnet and when the vehicle moved, the hat slid from her lap. ‘Before that, I had thought myself in the deepest love. But I was too young to wed and my father flatly refused to consider us courting. I’d met the young man at my cousin’s house. I thought him the one I would cherish for ever.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘He went to war. He never wrote to me and I realised he didn’t care for me. Part of the attraction, at first, had been that I was simply young and I wanted to be in love.’

  After he went to war, she’d accepted that he couldn’t manage to write her. She’d understood. But then she’d visited her cousin again and discovered he’d written several letters to her aunt and uncle. Vivian had realised the feelings she had for him were all one-sided. He’d merely tried to keep from hurting her.

  The carriage creaked.

  She leaned forward, raking the bonnet from the seat and plopping it on her head. She ran her fingers along the crown, then pushed her hair into place. Next she tied the ribbon and leaned back, but this time, she let the brim shield her face. ‘I like you, Everleigh. Annoying bear though you may be.’

  ‘And I am fond of you, Vivian—you are first, second and last on my list of potential wives. It’s just that the list is useless.’

  ‘I understand.’ She pushed the hat back, just enough to see him. ‘I’m not an expert on matters of the heart. I’m good at choosing the wrong man.’

  He laughed. ‘I can see why I might appeal to you, then.’

  ‘You actually do.’

  She couldn’t help being pleased Everleigh said she was the only person on his list for a bride. Even if he had no wish to marry, she liked the thought of being someone he esteemed.

  He took his boot and very firmly moved her slippered foot back towards her. Leaning forward, he took her hand.

  He smiled, truly smiled, and she felt it deep in her heart.

  ‘I have enjoyed having your friendship,’ he said.

  ‘Well, feasibly that is much better than having you as a husband.’ She gave his boot a tiny kick. ‘One cannot have too many friends, but one can definitely have too many husbands if the women I hear conversing are to be believed.’

  She would always remember their kisses and would hold the secret deep inside herself, one thing she could cherish. A memory of a kiss given just to please her.

  ‘It’s unlikely that our paths will cross many more times in our lives. But I want you to know how much I’ve appreciated your telling me that I’m not cursed.’ She touched his hand and he clasped her fingers. ‘I’m fortunate to have survived the accident and I’m fortunate to feel better every day.’

  He tilted closer. ‘I am displeased at the chaperon, though.’ He flicked the brim of the bonnet. ‘She keeps hiding you from me.’

  ‘Apparently the hat is the perfect chaperon.’ She reached up, touching the ties. ‘But confining.’

  Her fingers tangled in the ribbons and she pulled the wrong section, knotting it.

  He touched the tangle, moving closer, the masculine scent of his soap mixing into the air around her. As he unfastened her bonnet, his touch brushed against her.

  Taking his time, he slipped the hat away and put it on the seat across from himself. ‘I don’t think it’s as effective as a chaperon as it once was. Now I can see you.’

  She touched her cheek. ‘It surprises me when I look in the mirror. How different I seem. So much better. So quickly.’

  ‘You do appear a different person. Not the same one I kissed the first day.’

  His lips closed over hers, enveloping her with his warmth, lips moving like liquid, bonding them close. No longer did the air around her feel chilled, but it encompassed her, turning the dreary day into perfection.

  The sound. An explosion. It barely reached through the kiss to her consciousness.

  Everleigh jerked back, pulling her closer into his arms, and leaned across to move aside the shade
, still protecting her with his body.

  A woman screamed.

  The carriage lurched and would have tossed her into the other side, but Everleigh’s grasp saved her. He steadied them.

  The vehicle continued to swerve and the driver shouted a curse she didn’t understand. Finally, the carriage stopped and the driver continued to curse.

  Everleigh released her. He jumped from the carriage before it had completely stopped.

  She stared out of the window. They were in front of the cathedral. Someone was shouting Everleigh’s name.

  ‘Everleigh.’ The cry again.

  Vivian moved the shade slightly and did her best to peer out. Alexandria stood in the middle of the street.

  ‘I know your sweetheart is in the carriage with you.’ The shout reached Vivian. ‘Ella Etta told me she would be with you.’

  Everleigh’s sweetheart wasn’t in the carriage. She was.

  * * *

  Everleigh stepped towards Alexandria. The carriage driver was calming the horses and not only had all the traffic stopped, but several people had stepped outside the cathedral and were watching.

  Alexandria stood in the middle of the road with the discharged gun, still pointing it into the air.

  ‘I know Vivian is in the carriage with you.’

  Alexandria dropped to her knees, the empty gun falling to her side. ‘You chose Vivian instead of me.’

  ‘Alexandria.’

  A crowd had gathered. Watching. People were craning their necks to see the event.

  ‘I went to the matchmaker,’ she sniffed. ‘She told me.... She told me Vivian was to marry you. That I could not have you.’

  All the others were gawking and their mouths gaping.

  ‘I understand,’ she said, her voice shrill and loud enough to carry to rafters three streets over. ‘I want you to know that I forgive both of you. You never told me you loved me. You told me you would not marry me. I did not believe it. Even when the old beggar told me the two of you were to be married, I didn’t believe it. But when I saw you leave with Vivian this morning, I knew it was true.’