Love's Peril (Lord Trent Series) (49 page)

“I can’t
have
her,”Sheldon scoffed. “You’re a fine one to talk, you bounder.”

“I am a bounder,”John proclaimed. “I admit it.”

“You have no place here. Be gone, or I’ll have my guests throw you out.” Sheldon turned to the vicar and said, “Keep going. This scoundrel has no right to interrupt.”

The vicar stammered, “Ah…I’ve never actually had an objection before. Once a protest is voiced, I don’t believe I can continue.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,”Sheldon grumbled. “I am the largest landowner in the neighborhood. My donations pay your salary and buy the candles for this decrepit building. I’m ordering you to continue.”

Yet the vicar didn’t proceed. He was flipping through his prayer book, searching for instructions on how to handle the situation.

Sarah began to tremble, emotions pummeling her: fury, elation, dismay, shame, gladness. She’d never been happier in her entire life. She’d never been more angry.

How dare he show up! How dare he barge in and ruin everything! Hadn’t he caused enough trouble?

She’d found a way to save herself, yet for the tiniest second, she considered hurling herself into his arms and weeping with joy. Was she mad?

She’d cast her lot with him once before, and she wouldn’t succumb to such lunacy ever again.

“Get out,”she scolded. “I’m busy, and I don’t have time for your nonsense.”

“Ah,
chérie,
”he murmured, “I wish I could oblige you, but don’t you remember? I never listen to women.”

He wedged himself between her and Sheldon, clearly demonstrating that a separation was occurring.

“Now see here,”Sheldon blustered, “I don’t know what you think is—”

“Don’t you? I
think
I’m stopping your wedding.”

“And I am refusing to step aside. The contracts have been signed, the dowry accepted. You have no right to interfere.”

“You can’t have Bramble Bay,”John insisted. “I gave it to her so she’d always be safe. She’s not turning it over to you. I don’t care what you promised her. She’s not doing it.”

“Bramble Bay is mine,”Sheldon huffed.

“Over my dead body,”John seethed.

He gestured to Raven, and Raven pulled Sheldon away.

“Sorry, Mr. Fishburn,”Raven said, “but your presence is no longer required.”

“Unhand me, you fiend!”Sheldon commanded, but of course, Raven ignored him.

They started away, Sheldon vociferously complaining, but he couldn’t halt Raven’s steady progress toward the door. Everyone watched—agog—as they reached the vestibule, and Raven pushed him outside. A phalanx of John’s sailors was guarding the entrance, a determined wall to prevent him from rushing back in.

Raven returned to the front, and Sheldon was shouting, demanding to be readmitted, but they all pretended no ruckus was transpiring.

Raven drew Caroline to her feet.

“You stand with Sarah,”he told his wife, “and I’ll stand with John.”

“Yes, that’s perfect.”

Caroline moved next to Sarah and Raven next to John. The Harcourt brothers eased in and stood behind them. Sarah felt hemmed in, trapped so she couldn’t escape.

John linked their fingers and grinned up at the vicar. “Hurry up, preacher. My wedding banquet is waiting at the house. The food’s getting cold.”

Sarah was reeling, events speeding by much too rapidly. She didn’t know what was best, but she wouldn’t be bullied into marrying John Sinclair. It didn’t matter what the Harcourt brothers wanted, didn’t matter what Caroline and Raven had plotted out. It wasn’t any of their business.

Since she’d met John the previous spring, she’d been bombarded by one catastrophe after another. She’d been bankrupted and kidnapped and seduced and abandoned. He’d proved himself disloyal, deceitful, and dangerous. He couldn’t be trusted, couldn’t be relied on, and at the first hint of trouble, he was out the door without a peek behind him to see what type of chaos he’d left in his wake.

They all believed she should wed him? Were they insane? She’d already suffered too much of love’s peril and had barely survived.

“Stop it, John.” She yanked away and scuttled out of his grasp. “I don’t care what you’ve planned. After how you treated me, I’m not about to marry you.”

He didn’t bother to glance at her, but kept his focus locked on the vicar. “Go ahead, preacher. My friend, Mr. Hook, can answer for her.”

The vicar was flummoxed, and he slammed his prayer book shut. “I really must have a few minutes to sort through the technicalities.”

“It has to be now,”John said.

“Sir, the lady doesn’t wish to marry you.”

“She’ll get over it.”

“You pompous ass,”Sarah seethed.

The vicar was stammering again. “I…I…have a Special License that authorizes me to wed her to Mr. Fishburn.”

James Harcourt, Lord Westwood, said, “And I have one that authorizes you to marry her to John Sinclair. I insist you comply immediately.”

Lord Westwood approached and handed the license to the vicar.

“Do you know who I am?”Westwood asked him.

“No, but I assume you view yourself to be a gentleman of some renown.”

“You’re correct. I am James Harcourt, Earl of Westwood. I am a peer of the realm, and I am ordering you to marry them. We won’t leave until this bounder—as Mr. Fishburn fittingly called him—is leg shackled and can’t flee her marital noose.”

“See?” John gazed at Sarah. “They’re quite adamant, and you hate to have me fight with my family. They won’t be satisfied until you say
yes
. We have to proceed.”

“We do not,”she snapped.

The vicar scowled at her and inquired, “Would you like to wed Mr. Sinclair? It seems that you’re opposed.”

“I am mortally opposed,”she declared.

The vicar sighed and advised Lord Westwood, “Then I can’t possibly continue. This isn’t the Middle Ages. I can’t force her against her will.” There was a loud rapping at the door, Sheldon’s bellow drifting in. “And there’s the situation with Mr. Fishburn. I must postpone any ceremony so I can seek guidance from my bishop as to how this should be resolved.”

Lord Westwood shook his head. “You’re not listening to me, Vicar. We’re
not
leaving until this Sinclair scoundrel is married.”

Tristan Harcourt added, “If we have to remain here for the next ten years, we will.”

John glared at Sarah, his exasperation clear. He never brooked insubordination, and his poor ego had to be crying out with dismay.

“Let me handle this,”he said to his brothers.

He walked over to her, and she felt like a rabbit watching the hawk swoop down. She’d never been able to resist him, had never been able to stay strong or behave as she should. When she was around him, her common sense flew out the window, and she couldn’t make good decisions. If he was kind and sweet and charming, how might she act? The prospect was too frightening to ponder.

He faced her, looking smug and cocky and confident, and she braced for the onslaught. But just as she expected he’d speak to her, he turned to the guests instead.

“Every bad rumor you’ve heard about me is true,”he told them. “Last winter, I gambled with her brother, Hedley, and I won Bramble Bay from him. When I came to take possession of the estate, I didn’t know he had a sister. I was instantly smitten.”

“You were not,”she huffed.

“I was,”he asserted. “I seduced her and ruined her.”

“Mr. Sinclair!”the vicar chided. “Mind your tongue. This is a house of worship.”

John ignored the warning. “I enjoyed myself, too.”

“Be silent!”she fumed.

“I’m a cad; I admit it”—he shot her a hot, searing look—“so I didn’t suppose I should wed her. I’m not much of a catch—”

“No, you’re not,”she agreed.

“—and I decided she’d be better off without me. I signed over the deed to Bramble Bay so she’d own it and could keep it safe from her brother. All of you know what a wastrel he is.” There were nods all around. “Then I went to France.”

“You left me at a coaching inn! You rode off without a goodbye.”

He grinned out at the guests. “Has it been mentioned that I’m a scoundrel? I believe it has.” Everyone was nodding again. “A few days ago, my brothers arrived to inform me that I’d created more havoc than I realized. For you see, Sarah Teasdale is increasing with my child.”

“You wretch!”Sarah wailed. “Is there any humiliating thing you won’t say?”

“Some of you may have heard that my father is Charles Sinclair, Lord Trent.” At the news, numerous women gasped. “So you’re aware of my inherited penchant for low behavior. My brothers thought I should turn over a new leaf.”

Sarah glowered. “You’re not turning over any leaves with me, you despicable rogue.”

He shrugged to his audience. “Once I learned of her condition, I couldn’t let her marry Mr. Fishburn, could I?” The congregants shook their heads. “I had to stop the wedding to keep her from making a ghastly mistake—and to do this.”

Sarah was wary, terrified of what he planned, and stunned when he dropped to a knee. He took her hand and smiled up at her.

“I love you, Sarah Teasdale. Will you marry me?”

“What?”

“Will you marry me?”

“No, I won’t!”she hissed.

“And why not? The entire town knows you’re disgraced, and I’m begging you to wed. How can you refuse me? What will your neighbors say?”

“They’ll say I dodged a bullet!”

“Perhaps, but what if they’re wrong? What if I’m precisely what you need most in the whole world?”

“You’re embarrassing me. Get up.”

“Not until I have my answer.”

“My answer is
no
. Now get up.”

She grabbed his arm and tried to raise him to his feet, but he was the most obstinate man who’d ever lived. He wouldn’t oblige her.

“Tell me you never loved me,”he murmured. “Tell me you don’t love me now.”

To her horror, tears welled into her eyes. She had worshipped him, had thought he walked on water, that he was amazing and charismatic and dynamic and she could have him for her own.

But he never let anyone be close, and she wouldn’t tether herself to someone who didn’t want her, who would never need her. With Mildred and Hedley, her life had been a tedious slog of not belonging, not fitting in.

She was making her own choices, building her own family, and she could pick any arrangement she wished. She chose companionship and permanence and commitment. What she
didn’t
choose was turmoil and disloyalty and disregard.

He brought every awful thing in spades, and she couldn’t imagine carrying on a day to day existence in the midst of so much drama and upheaval. With him, there would never be a moment of peace or tranquility or even a bit of calm.

He thrived on violence and lies and deception. If he promised himself to her, how could she believe him? Would he even stay? He’d likely speak vows, then stroll out the door and never come back. Where was the benefit in that?

“Don’t you dare start crying,”he said. “You know I can’t bear it when you’re sad.”

“Then don’t do this to me.”

“What should I do instead? Should I leave you to that old reprobate who would steal your property from you?
Non, chérie,
I cannot allow it to happen.”

“You’re asking too much of me.”

“Am I? I don’t think I’m asking nearly enough.”

“I’m so confused,”she moaned. “I don’t understand why you’re here.”

“I want you to marry me—right here, right now. I want you to love me forever so I will always be yours. I want to sail my ship into the bay outside Bramble Bay Manor, to look up at the parlor and see a candle burning in the window just for me. I want to know you are waiting. I want to know that I am welcomed home.”

The pretty speech rattled her. A few of the tears that had threatened slid down her cheeks. What woman could remain unaffected by such endearing words? Could she?

“Have me, Sarah.” He kissed the center of her palm. “Let me be your husband. Let me be a father to this child we’ve created. I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

Her uncertainty increased, and she took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. He was adept at manipulating her, at bending her to his will, and he was professing sentiment she’d been yearning to hear. Yet how could she trust him?

“You can’t mean it,”she muttered. “You can’t possibly.”

“Why would you say so? In France, I would stand on the ramparts of my castle and stare out toward England. I would picture you on the other side of the water. It seemed as if you were calling to me.”

She frowned. “I did that, too.”

“While I was there, guess what I realized?”

“What?”

“Without you, I’m nothing at all.”

“Please get up,”she said again. She pulled on his wrist, and this time, he obeyed.

He towered over her, looking wonderful and magnificent and just as dashing as he’d been that very first day out on the road.

She was deluged by happy memories. When she was with him, she felt vibrant and electrically alive. She would have killed for him. She would have died for him. How had she forgotten his potent effect? How had that joy slipped away?

The church door opened again, and three women entered. As they stepped from the dark vestibule, Sarah was stunned to see it was Fanny, Helen, and Harriet. There were two men with them, Fanny’s husband Michael and their brother Phillip. His wife Anne had accompanied them, too.

The group halted, taking in the odd scene, and Fanny asked, “We’re not too late, are we?”

“No,”Lord Westwood said. “You haven’t missed it. In fact, we’re still trying to determine whether it will occur or not.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,”Fanny scoffed. “Of course it’s going to occur. We won’t accept any other ending.” She scowled at her sisters. “Will we?”

“No,”the twins replied together.

Lord Westwood explained, “Miss Teasdale isn’t too keen on having him as a husband.”

“I can hardly blame her,”Fanny retorted. “He
is
Charles’s son after all, but he’s changing his ways.” She glared at John. “Aren’t you?”

The three sisters marched up the aisle, the others trailing after them. They stopped and stood with Raven and Caroline, all except for Harriet who walked to John.