Captivating the Scoundrel Page 15

  “And who would it affect?” she asked. “My father?”

  Because she was alone. She didn’t have a mother or a half brother or a half brother’s father who would stand in as your father or a newfound cousin who was overjoyed to claim you as kin.

  But she did have her father. And really, wasn’t that worse than being alone?

  “Daphne, if you have no plans for a future in Society or to marry someone who would be horrified by your behavior, particularly pretending to be married to me, I will consent to being your fake husband.”

  She grinned. “Excellent. Let us be on our way to Glastonbury, and I will stop at a coaching inn to post a letter to Ashridge Court.”

  “As you wish.” He pinched the edge of his hat, and she steered her horse down the lane.

  Glastonbury was a short ride—barely a quarter hour when they cantered for part of it. He led them toward a coaching inn where they’d tried to find lodging the night before. However, before they reached the gate, three horsemen rode straight for them. They were forced to pull their horses to a halt.

  Alarm flared through Gideon, tensing his muscles and speeding his heart. He looked over at Daphne, but she’d pulled the veil over her face when they’d reached town.

  “Stratton!” one of the men called, and Gideon instantly recognized the symbol stitched at the bottom edge of their coats on the front right side: a small gold cup with a stem—a grail. These were Foliot’s men.

  Two of them put their hands on pistols strapped to their sides but didn’t draw them. They were in the middle of a semi-busy street. Gideon glanced about, wondering if he could evade them.

  Daphne pushed up her veil. “What is this about?”

  The one who’d yelled Gideon’s name rode close to Daphne and cast a threatening look toward Gideon. “Your father was most distraught when you didn’t return yesterday.”

  “I sent a note ahead,” she said. “We had a problem with a horse and were forced to delay our journey.”

  She was really quite good at coming up with a believable lie quickly. At least it seemed believable to him. Whether it fooled her father’s men, Gideon couldn’t tell.

  “We’ll escort you to Ashridge Court,” the man, who appeared to be the leader of the group, said, sending dark, suspicious looks toward Gideon.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Daphne said brightly. “Lord Stratton and I were wed early this morning, and now we plan to take a wedding trip.”

  The man’s jaw dropped, and another man rode up beside him and muttered, “Foliot won’t like that,” loud enough for Gideon to hear.

  “You’ll need to come with us,” the leader said.

  Daphne shook her head. “Please convey our apologies to my father. I know he will be disappointed to have missed the ceremony, but we simply couldn’t wait.” She cast a loving look toward Gideon, her smile positively beatific. If she decided scholarly pursuits and treasure hunting didn’t suit her, she could certainly make a life on the stage.

  “We have strict instruction to bring you back to Ashridge Court.” The man frowned at Gideon. “Willing or not.”

  Hell, there wasn’t going to be a simple or easy way out of this. Gideon grasped the reins of his horse, ready to flee if necessary, and sent a sharp look toward Daphne. He inclined his head slightly, trying to silently communicate that they might need to run.

  He squared his shoulders and addressed the leader. “Lady Stratton and I are eager to be on our way. Her father’s wishes, while important to us, are not our primary concern. Again, please convey our apologies to Foliot, and let him know we will see him soon. Come, Daphne.”

  Perhaps they’d just let them go…

  But of course, they wouldn’t. The leader rode directly into Gideon’s path. “You must come with us.”

  “Oh my,” Daphne said rather loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. “I’m afraid I don’t feel well.” She slumped to the side, causing her horse to prance sideways. And then it reared with a loud whinny.

  Gideon’s heart stopped for a moment. He kept control of his mount, lest it react to the other horse’s distress. Two of the men’s horses did react. One reared, and the rider lost his seat. The other bolted. Only the leader remained. It was now or never.

  Before Gideon could shout for Daphne to go, she whipped past him, her body bent low as she kicked the horse into a gallop. It wasn’t terribly safe, given the traffic around them, but it was necessary. And damn, she was good.

  Gideon took off after her and worked to come abreast of her mount. He looked back and saw the leader was following them.

  “We should split up,” she shouted. “Up ahead, you go right and I’ll go left. Meet me at The Black Sheep in Coxley. If I don’t show up within the hour, go on without me—you must complete your quest. Don’t follow me!”

  Before he could dispute her plan, she veered left. Gideon knew the man would follow her—and he wasn’t wrong. After he turned right, Gideon looked back and saw the man hesitate for the barest moment before steering his horse in Daphne’s wake.

  He should go after her. What would the man do when he caught her? Force her to return to Ashridge Court? And then what would Foliot do? Particularly when he learned she’d lied about getting married. It would be easy enough to verify.

  You must complete your quest. Don’t follow me!

  Her words pealed in his head and ultimately kept him from turning his horse around. She’d told him what to do—what he needed to do. And yet…

  Hell and the devil.

  The veil whipped at Daphne’s face as she rode for the outer edge of town. If she’d been on an open road, instead of having to navigate intermittent traffic and turn corners, she might be able to outrun him. But she wasn’t on an open road, and she could hear the thunder of the horse’s hooves behind her.

  Daphne turned her head and saw just how close her pursuer was. She was never going to make it.

  Defeat curdled her gut as he yelled, “Stop! My horse can outrun yours!”

  Gripping the reins, she slowed her horse, murmuring words of gratitude and encouragement. She and the horse were breathing heavily when they came to a stop. They’d left the denser buildings behind and were at the start of a lane that looped around to the main road north. She’d been so close.

  The guard stopped beside her and grabbed the reins of her mount. “Silly chit,” he growled. “Why did you run?”

  She arched her brow at him in disdain. “Because I don’t want to return to Ashridge Court. Isn’t it obvious?” She rolled her eyes and let out a grunt of dismay. Better he caught her than Gideon, however. Now he would be free to return to Hollyhaven and fetch the chest. Perhaps she’d be able to get away and meet him at Brue Cottage…

  “Too bad,” the man said, scowling at her. “That’s where we’re going—back to your father.”

  He was not going to be happy that she’d lied to him. She could say that Gideon had promised to marry her so that her father’s anger would be directed at him, but she wouldn’t do that. She’d instigated this mess when she’d led her father to believe that she was in love with Gideon and he’d consequently announced their betrothal.

  No, her father was to blame. For all of it.

  She exhaled and took a deep breath as her heart rate slowed. The guard held on to her reins and started his horse into a slow walk.

  She knew there were people who disliked her father, who found him unscrupulous and harsh. But he’d always told her to ignore them, for they were jealous, vindictive people who didn’t like to see her father’s wealth or his ascension in the Order. They also wished they could be descended from King Arthur himself as he was.

  Daphne had meant to query Gwyneth about that, but there had been so much going on during their interview that she hadn’t had a chance. When they returned, Daphne would ask if she could verify that lineage. She didn’t doubt her father, but it would be wonderful to have proof. Even if she couldn’t share it.

  A sound cut into Daphne’s thoughts just
before her reins went slack. She looked over at her father’s man and saw him collapse to the side, sliding from his horse to the ground. His horse whinnied in distress and took off. The man didn’t fall off completely for several yards, but when he finally hit the ground, the horse didn’t stop. If anything, it went faster down the lane.

  What had just happened? She turned at the sound of another set of hooves.

  Gideon raced toward her and pulled his horse to a stop when he reached her. “Are you all right?”

  “What did you do?” She glanced toward the fallen man up ahead.

  “I hit him with a rock.” He shrugged. “What else was I supposed to do?”

  “You were supposed to meet me at The Black Sheep.”

  “It doesn’t look like you were going to make it,” he said wryly as he walked his horse toward the man lying on the ground.

  Daphne walked her horse beside his. “You don’t know that. I had an hour to get there.”

  He sent her a pained look. “Are we really going to debate this?”

  “You weren’t supposed to follow me.”

  “I’m not supposed to do many things, yet I’ve always done whatever I damn well please.” They’d arrived at the unconscious man, and Gideon quickly dismounted. He bent down and checked the body.

  “Is he alive?” Daphne was afraid to know the answer.

  “Quite.” Gideon climbed back onto his horse and started walking again.

  She kept up with him. “We’re going to just leave him there?”

  He glanced toward her. “That seems the best plan, don’t you agree?”

  Yes, but it still felt a bit cruel. “Will he be all right?”

  “He’ll be as good as new. With a bump on his head.” Gideon pointed to the back of his skull.

  “I can’t believe you hit him with a rock. You’ve excellent aim.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You really shouldn’t have come back.” But she was so glad he did.

  Even if a small voice in the back of her mind was telling her she should return to Ashridge Court in order to preserve what was left of her reputation. She didn’t want to abandon their quest.

  Their quest.

  Was it really theirs? Gideon didn’t need her at all. She looked over at him and wondered why he’d come back for her, especially when she’d told him not to.

  Then she realized he wasn’t leading them out of town. In fact, they were turning onto Benedict Street.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Just ahead.” He walked his horse a bit faster, and she moved to catch up.

  The tower of St. Benedict’s Church came into view, and she suffered a moment of panic. “If we go by the church, we may run into my father’s men. What if they go back to the church to confirm our wedding? The one that never happened.”

  “Perhaps, but I plan to sneak in through another entrance.” He led them off the road and dismounted near a tree.

  She stared at him. “What are you doing?” When he didn’t answer, she assumed he had a plan to bribe the vicar to say he’d married them.

  “I don’t think the vicar will go along with your plan.”

  “I think he will,” Gideon said, helping her down. “That’s his job.”

  She gaped at him while he tied the horses. Then he took her hand and walked the short distance to the church, where he skirted the building and, as intended, found a back entrance.

  Pulling at his hand, she stopped when they were inside, forcing him to turn around. “The vicar will never agree to this.”

  Gideon turned and blinked at her. “Why? It’s not yet noon.”

  “Noon?”

  “I realize it’s irregular to purchase the license and conduct the ceremony without waiting a week, but I have plenty of coin and I’m an earl. Or at least I will be when Parliament confirms my inheritance.”

  She couldn’t have heard him right. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I said, it’s irregular that—”

  “I know what you said.” She shook her head. “I’m just trying to understand what you mean. Are you marrying me?”

  “Yes.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Why?”

  He tipped his head to the side and contemplated her as if she’d sprouted another nose. “It seems the smartest plan at this juncture, and it was the original plan, after all.”

  “But you don’t want to marry me. Or anyone else.”

  “This will buy us time to find the cloak, and it will protect your reputation. After the ceremony, you can write a note to your father, as we’d planned earlier, and the vicar can even bloody sign it.” Gideon turned and started toward the nave. “Now, where can we find the vicar?”

  And they would be married.

  Daphne grabbed his forearm, wrapping her fingers around his sleeve. “Gideon, you don’t have to do this. I should probably return to Ashridge Court. You don’t need me.”

  He turned to face her once more. “No, I don’t need you,” he said softly. “But as you told me once—or maybe it was a dozen times—we’re in this together.”

  Her heart swelled, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak past the knot in her throat. So she nodded.

  “Besides, you have an annulment plan.” He winked at her and turned toward the nave again.

  As he started forward, she hurried to walk beside him. ‘I don’t actually have a plan.”

  He glanced down at her with a half smile. “I trust you. So far, you’ve proven rather adept at coming up with believable lies.”

  His cavalier attitude was somehow charming and yet concerning. What if they couldn’t secure an annulment? She clasped his forearm again and drew him to stop.

  Once more, he turned toward her. He exhaled and looked at her patiently.

  “We are sticking to the original plan,” she said. “This is a marriage in name only.”

  “Yes.” He answered quickly enough that she wished he’d hesitated just a little. “Now, can we please find the vicar? We’re running out of time.”

  They couldn’t marry after noon.

  She steered him in another direction toward the vicar’s office. “This way.”

  A short time later, she was the Countess of Stratton—at least for now—wife of a descendant of Gareth. Her father would be ecstatic.

  She, on the other hand, was astounded. And maybe just the slightest bit happy.

  Chapter 11

  Riding up the lane to Hollyhaven, Gideon imagined what Rhys and Margery might say about his new bride. He and Daphne had decided they would tell them the truth, and Gideon was fairly certain they’d be unhappy that he’d married under such circumstances. That was because they had married for love—as both their children had.

  He stole a quick look at Daphne. She’d changed her riding habit entirely when they’d stopped at her cottage in Keynsham to pick up clothing and other items for the journey. Gideon had met her great-aunt Ellie, who’d been delighted to learn that her beloved great-niece had wed an earl. She’d tried to persuade them to stay, but they’d demurred. Neither wanted to risk running into her father’s men in case they came looking for her. Just because they were married didn’t mean her father wouldn’t try to bring her back to Ashridge Court.

  Gone was the veil hiding her face, leaving her stunning profile exposed for his hungry gaze.

  Hungry?

  Yes, he desired her. That much he would admit. And was afraid of.

  Last night, they’d stayed at an inn, and he’d slept on the floor again. This time, he’d remained there because she hadn’t, thankfully, suffered another nightmare.

  A groom met them outside the house to take their horses to the stable. Gideon thanked him and guided Daphne to the door.

  “I’m a bit nervous,” she whispered. “Last time I was here, I gave them a fake name.”

  “They’ll understand,” Gideon said. “They’re incredibly kind.”

  “They seemed that way. When I was here before, I was struck by how close they all were as a
family. It was rather endearing.”

  Was that a note of envy in her voice? Or was he thinking of how he used to feel when he would see Rhys and Margery—and Penn and Cate—in the summer? They’d always treated him like family, but he’d still felt like he didn’t belong. Perhaps because his father had worked hard to remind him of that when he returned to Stratton Hall. “Remember, Gideon, you are my son. Nothing else matters.”

  The door opened, and it was Margery who greeted them. “Gideon! And Mrs. Guilford.” Her voice carried a note of curiosity. “What a surprise! Come in.” She ushered them into the library, where Rhys was standing near his worktable.

  “Gideon, it’s good to see you so soon. Mrs. Guilford.” Rhys said her name with a bit of a question, as Margery had done.

  If they were surprised to see him in the presence of their recent guest, Gideon was surely about to shock them completely. “Allow me to present my wife, Daphne Foliot Kersey.” It wasn’t precisely the right way to introduce her, but he thought it best to just put her name out there so Rhys and Margery would know who she was.

  Their reaction was immediate. Their eyes widened, but it was Rhys who spoke. “As in Timothy Foliot’s daughter?”

  “Yes,” Daphne answered. She curtsied to them. “Gideon and I married just yesterday.”

  Rhys blinked at him, seeming utterly bewildered. However, Margery spoke this time. “Congratulations to both of you. We should drink a toast.”

  “You should know this is a temporary marriage—in name only,” Gideon said. “We plan to seek an annulment.”

  Rhys and Margery exchanged looks, their brows creased. “Why did you get married at all, then?” Rhys asked.

  “Foliot expected us to,” Gideon said. He waved a hand and exhaled some of the tension from his shoulders. “It’s rather complicated. We are on a quest to find the cloak together, and it was simplest for us to marry. For the time being.”

  “Annulments aren’t easy,” Rhys said, clearly concerned.

  “No, but we have a plan.” They still didn’t, but if he lost the earldom, he could cite fraud as the reason for the annulment. He hadn’t shared that with Daphne because he didn’t want to tell her about his illegitimacy, not when Penn was trying so hard to keep from being the earl. Furthermore, he hadn’t wanted to tell her about the vicar and his proof since the man was currently being held hostage by her father.