The Reluctant Suitor (59 page)

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Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Conversion is important., #convert, #Conversion

BOOK: The Reluctant Suitor
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In rising concern, Adriana grabbed her friend’s arm. “My goodness, Samantha, what has happened to upset you so? Where’s Percy? Is he all right?”

“Bentley sent someone in to fetch him earlier, and he just now rushed back to tell me that Colton is in the carriage outside and is wanting to see you.”

A rush of joyful excitement shot through Adriana once again before reason intruded and suppressed her elation. Did he really think she’d fly into his embrace so easily after he had kept her at arm’s length all during their courtship? Conveying a casualness she definitely didn’t feel, she lifted her shoulders in a blasé shrug. “So, why doesn’t your brother come inside?”

“Colton has been shot in the back, Adriana, and he refuses to seek out a physician until he has an opportunity to speak with you. Bentley said they were attacked on the road shortly after leaving home, and my brother has come this far in spite of his wounds, determined to see you.”

The dreadful news pierced Adriana’s heart with cold shards of mounting fear. For a second time in so many moments, she faced the marquess to plead for his gracious understanding, this time, however, in trembling disquiet. “Riordan, please forgive me, but I must go to Colton.”

“Perhaps I can be of some help,” he offered, the joy fading from his dark eyes. Clasping her shaking hand within his, he sought to rally her courage. “

Having dressed a good many wounds in my experience as an officer, Adriana, mayhap if I were to accompany you both outside, I could be of some assistance.”

“Please hurry then,” Samantha pleaded, readily accepting his advice and whatever help he’d be able to give. “Colton could be dying for all we know.”

The faces of the onlookers registered shock as the three almost ran toward the entrance, but it mattered naught to the women and even less to the man who followed closely behind. Bentley was waiting beside the landau, the sorry condition of which had drawn a crowd of close and casual acquaintances anxious to know what had occurred, and if any of the Wyndhams had been hurt in what the driver merely explained was an attack by unknown factions. As to his employer’s condition, Bentley answered them by repeating the words that had been issued to him earlier. “His lordship, but ‘tis only a scratch.”

As the ladies hurried from the curving, elegant edifice, Percy made a careful descent from the landau, not wishing to cause his brother-in-law any greater discomfort than he was already suffering.

“Do you ken if his injuries are serious?” Samantha asked her husband as he extended a hand to help her in.

“Your brother claims it isn’t,” Percy murmured, “but you’d better brace yourself for the worst, my pet.

He seems to have lost a lot of blood. His coat is nigh soaked through in the back.”

In mounting dread, Adriana bit into a slender knuckle as she waited for the man to assist his wife. When Percy finally turned to her, his face was solemn, his blue eyes in the lantern light bereft of their usual sparkle. The plea in her own tear-filled, dark orbs was readily discernible.

“I can offer no assurances, Adriana,” he murmured regretfully, squeezing her thin fingers to communicate his own concern. Gently he handed her into the coach.

Samantha had taken a seat beside her brother, and when she looked around and met her friend’s worried gaze, she could only press trembling lips together and offer a noncommittal shrug. Adriana’s shaking limbs threatened to collapse beneath her. Somehow she managed to reach the cushions in front of Colton. Yet her heart grew cold with dread as she considered the one she had come to love so desperately.

Colton sat slumped in the far corner of the rear seat with an elbow braced upon the rest, the hand of that same arm pressing hard against his midriff, as if with it he endeavored to brace himself up. In the glow of the lampposts his face appeared pale and drawn. It also became evident that he was having some difficulty in rallying enough strength to speak. “Forgive my shoddy condition, ladies,” he rasped through a wry grin. The stiffness of his pale lips vividly attested to the difficulty he was having hiding his agony. “I started out in good form, but between there and here I ran afoul of miscreants who seemed intent on killing me. . . .”

Adriana clasped a hand over her mouth to smother a fearful moan. Her companion and friend, whose own quaking tone clearly conveyed her mounting concern, voiced the question burning within her mind.

“Why didn’t you turn back, Colton, and have our surgeon tend your wound?”

“I had to tell Adriana . . . that I do indeed love her . . . and am most desperate to have her for my wife.”

His eyes flicked toward the door where Lord Riordan stood listening to their exchange. “You see, I was terrified . . . of losing her . . . to another. I did not chance a delay for fear of what the evening would reap

. . . if I . . . didn’t at least tell her . . . of my love.”

Adriana brushed at the tears now streaming down her face. His family would not be able to tolerate his death, nor would she. Not only did she love him with every fiber of her being, but if he were to die, she’d never forgive herself, for she’d be haunted by the fact that the rift between them had prevented him from searching out a physician in a timely fashion. That guilt would hound her to her grave. “We must get you to Aunt Tilly’s posthaste and find a surgeon to take care of your wound.”

The smile that turned his lips proved feeble indeed. The same shaft of light streaming from the lamppost illumed his smile and the smoky gray eyes that settled unswervingly upon her. “Not until you promise to marry me, Adriana. Tonight would be fine, if not this very moment.”

“You may well die if your wound is not soon tended,” Adriana choked, trying hard to hold back the threatening sobs.

“Better to die than to live without you,” he whispered, extending his free hand toward her.

Amid a flood of cascading tears, Adriana reached out and settled her fingers within his grasp.

“Will you be my wife, Adriana?” he rasped.

She nodded vigorously. “Yes, oh, yes!”

Directing his gaze to Riordan, Colton managed a weak smile in spite of the searing pain piercing his back. “Should I not make it through this, my lord, be it known that you would be my choice for the lady’

s husband. She could do no better, upon my demise of course.”

Even in so serious a moment, Riordan did not miss the other man’s unquenchable humor. Inclining his head briefly, he accepted the compliment the other bestowed upon him, but he was wont to answer forthrightly, “Had the two of you not been promised, my lord, I would’ve moved heaven and earth to take Adriana from you, and though I do most desperately yearn to have her as my own wife, I would not want our marriage to come to fruition through your death. On a matter more pertinent to your present needs, if you’d allow me to accompany you to the town house, perhaps between Percy and I we can be of some assis-tance getting you to a bed. Although the ladies have proven immensely resourceful in the past, I’m afraid they lack the strength to accomplish that feat.”

“Your offer is most kindly accepted,” Colton managed weakly. “I fear I don’t have enough vigor left to maneuver myself into a house . . . or to doff my clothes even if I were to get that far.”

Riordan turned to find Sir Guy standing at his elbow. The younger man had been listening intently to their exchange and seemed genuinely concerned. Considering the knight among his friends, Riordan urged him, “If you’d kindly tell Adriana’s parents that she’ll be returning to her aunt’s town house without delay, ‘twould alleviate their anxiety should they realize she’s missing.”

“I’ll see that someone in the family is told of the situation,” Sir Guy replied. Before departing on his errand, however, he stepped to the open door of the carriage. Clearing his throat slightly in an effort to

claim the wounded man’s attention, he soon found himself searching pain-glazed gray eyes. “I sincerely wish you well, my lord,” he averred in all truth. “ ‘Twould be ill-met indeed if an honored hero of our lengthy conflict with France meets his end because of the foul deeds of our own countrymen. I shall hope and pray that you defeat their foul purposes by living a long, happy, and prosperous life. Concerning the matter of your happiness, if you wouldn’t mind assistance in that area, I’d be willing to direct my father’s attention to your needs. Since you and Lady Adriana are legal residents of Wiltshire, he’d certainly be able to issue you a marriage license. However, His Grace, the archbishop, just happens to be in Bath, inspecting various churches under his auspices, and has come to the Crescent tonight as my father’s guest. I believe he’d be willing to dispense a special license to one of our country’s finest heroes. With his signature on the document, then no one in the world would be able to challenge your marriage to Lady Adriana.”

“Thank you, Sir Guy,” Colton murmured gratefully, managing a frail smile. “Whatever the cost, I’d be interested in extending such a sum to have His Grace validate the license.”

The knight turned abruptly, intending to set himself upon his errands, but immediately found himself facing Roger Elston, who, after meeting his gaze, cast a sardonic glance into the carriage beyond him. Touching a handkerchief to his left nostril in a lofty manner, he inquired, “Is anything amiss?”

Sir Guy didn’t know why his hackles rose; perhaps it was the vague smirk that seemed to turn the miller’

s lips that goaded a brusque reaction from him, but then, he had never really liked the miller’s son, especially his efforts to convey some viable claim on the lady when there were lords aplenty seeking her hand. “Not anything the Lady Adriana hasn’t taken care of by agreeing to marry his lordship. In fact, I was just about to go in and arrange for my father to perform the nuptials tonight, by special license signed by His Grace, the archbishop, of course.”

Roger’s eyes turned icy. “You’d do that for the haughty bastard after desiring the lady yourself?”

“Unlike some men I know,” Guy said, raising a brow meaningfully as their eyes dueled like glinting sabers, “I’m not a vindictive loser. Besides, considering his lordship’s valiant service to his country, I’m sure
most
people would agree that he’s deserving of such an honor. That’s more than I can say for those paltry fellows who saw fit to excuse themselves by feigning serious disabilities.”

“You poor, misguided fool,” Roger sneered caustically, dismissing the other’s pointed jibe. “Do you honestly think Wyndham’s involvement in a few skirmishes makes him more worthy than any other?”

“A few?” Sir Guy’s abortive laugh negated the other’s disparagement. “More like a hundred, I’d say, dear chap. In any case, such an argument is redundant since Lady Adriana has already accepted his lordship’s proposal of marriage.” Lifting a hand, he tapped his forefinger against the miller’s chest as he delivered what a knowledgeable swordsman, such as himself, would’ve defined as a verbal coup de grâce. “Which leaves you, buffoon, no chance in a million.”

Roger sought to throw off the other’s nettlesome touch, but with the swiftness of a talented foilsman, Guy swept his hand upward, deliberately jarring Roger’s chin, evoking a noticeable rattle as the miller’s teeth came forcefully together. Roger promptly snarled a profusion of epithets, liberally assailing the briskly departing knight, who now seemed eager to complete his mission.

Percy approached the fretfully pacing Bentley, who, upon espying him, hurried forward to meet him with the hope that he had encouraging news. None was forthcoming. In somber tones, Percy gave the driver instructions to the Lady Mathilda’s town house. Dejectedly, the driver turned and climbed to his seat.

Adriana vacated the forward seat of the landau to make room for Percy and Riordan, but in refusing to release her hand, Colton dictated the seating arrangement, forcing her to claim the narrow space between

his sister and himself. To spare him further discomfort, Adriana refrained from pressing back into the seat until Samantha slid aside to give her more room. Even then, Colton refused to let her move away, obliging her to remain close beneath his arm. Entwining his long fingers through hers, he rested their clasped hands in her lap as his shoulder overlapped hers and the back of his arm rested against her soft bosom. Lovingly she stroked the muscular firmness of his arm and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder as he slowly lowered his head against the far side of the landau. A moment later, her heart leapt in her bosom as the long fingers fell limp in her grasp.

“Oh, no, please, no!” she cried, bringing the other occupants forward in their seats. Frantic with fear, she searched for a pulse as she pressed trembling fingers against Colton’s throat. Her anxiety quickly soared when none could be found. Choking on a sob, she renewed her efforts and, upon detecting a steady throbbing beneath her fingertips a moment later, went limp with relief. In some embarrassment, she glanced around at the others who were staring at her in rowelling concern.

“He’s all right. His pulse is strong. He only fainted.”

Samantha clasped a trembling hand over her mouth, trying to smother her sobs in spite of the flood of tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Dearest friend, forgive me for frightening you,” Adriana pleaded through her own tears as she threaded thin fingers through the other’s. Samantha’s grip tightened, and together they struggled against their burgeoning fear as they leaned their heads together. As always, their hearts were bound as one in their love and concern for the man.

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