A Reluctant Bride Read online

  Thomasina’s stomach twisted at the thought.

  And twisted further when she realized that her sister’s room was dark. No fire blazed in the hearth, no candle by the bed so Anne could read one of the gothic novels they all loved so dearly. Her sister’s bed was neatly made with no indication anyone had rested on it since that morning.

  Anne was not here.

  Thomasina shook her head. She’d left Anne here, not more than an hour ago. Her sister had waxed dramatic about taking to her bed. But then, she had been pretending to be Thomasina, so perhaps she had gone to her room in order to keep up the ruse.

  Thomasina drew a short breath and moved into the next chamber. Harcourt had placed the sisters in three adjoining rooms so they could enjoy their tight bond during the last few days of the engagement. A kindness to be sure.

  She entered her own room and it was as empty as Anne’s. A brief glance through Juliana’s door revealed more of the same.

  Her heart throbbed as she trudged back to Anne’s chamber, confused and feeling a twinge of dread that could not be denied. Where could Anne have gone? Roaming the house when she was meant to be Thomasina and unwell to boot was not likely.

  She leaned against the edge of the bed and her eye caught something in the dark. A corner of an envelope stuck out from behind Anne’s pillow. She tugged it out—her name was scrawled across the front of the folded sheet. Her sister’s hand, which was normally so confident, was slightly shaky.

  Thomasina broke the seal, unfolded the paper and began to read.

  Thomasina,

  You will know soon enough and I’m sure you will tell the others in a way to make it easier for them. I never wished to marry Harcourt. That was Father’s idea to tame me, I think.

  But I would have done it until I met Ellis. You do not know him, but he is everything I could have asked for in a husband. Or at least he is a better match than Harcourt. We are going to Gretna Green tonight to wed.

  I’m sorry to have involved you with such subterfuge, but at least you can claim with a clear conscience that you knew nothing of my plans. I shall see you when I return, a married woman. Do try to square things with Father. I know he will despise me and you can soften him like no one else.

  Anne

  She read the note again. And again, trying to make sense of it all. She couldn’t, and she could hardly breathe as she stared at the words, written hastily and with so little regard for their dire consequences. Her hands shook and the sting of tears in her eyes was so powerful that she longed to collapse on the bed and dissolve into a cry that could make all this go away.

  Only that wasn’t possible. Anne had done something reckless, as she was wont to do, and now there would be no escaping the consequences for anyone, especially not herself.

  Thomasina clutched the letter to her chest and then spun on the door. She had to tell Juliana. Anne had been right that Thomasina was the one who could calm their father, but Juliana was the one who fixed things when they broke. Perhaps she would have a plan for all this. A way to manage what would soon be the unmanageable.

  Thomasina threw open the door and raced into the hallway, but she had not made it three steps when she slammed into the very broad, very warm and very hard chest of the Earl of Harcourt.

  Thomasina obviously wasn’t looking where she was going as she careened out of her sister’s chamber and into the hallway where Jasper was poised to knock on the door and demand answers for her lies to him that night. She hustled straight into him and he closed his arms around her to steady her so she wouldn’t fall.

  She gasped, staring up at him with wide, teary eyes and trembling lower lip and his world stopped, just as it had on the terrace when they were in a similar position. There was no denying it now, just as there had not been then: he wanted Thomasina Shelley.

  Fuck.

  “I’m sorry, my lord,” she gasped, shrugging from his embrace and backing away. “I-I don’t know why you are here, but I will have to speak to you in a moment. Right now I must find Juliana. I must—I must!”

  She was trembling, her fingers gripped around a folded sheet of paper. Her upset was plain on every line on her face. For a moment, he felt empathy for that pain, but then he hardened himself to it. This woman had played a game with him. He was not about to forget it or forgive it. Certainly not until he understood it.

  “Thomasina,” he said softly.

  She spun around to face him. “Yes, I told you, my lord—”

  She cut herself off and her hand lifted to cover her mouth as all the color drained from her cheeks. He let her stare at him a moment and then he nodded slowly.

  “Yes, I know it’s you,” he said softly.

  Her hand lowered and her lips parted. “You know. You knew?”

  “Yes.” He kept his tone hard and she flinched a little from the weight of it.

  Then she stepped closer. “Did you know on the terrace, when you tried to…” She looked around like there were spies in their midst. “When you tried to kiss me?” she whispered.

  He arched a brow. “I was testing you.”

  “Testing me!” she repeated, and for the first time since he’d met this woman months before, her voice raised and there was anger in it. “By nearly betraying my sister with me? That is your idea of a test?”

  He couldn’t help but stare at her in her lit-up, angry glory. Her eyes were brighter than ever, her skin now pink instead of deathly pale, and that flush crept down her neck and into the lovely swell of her breasts. Her hands shook, rattling the letter she still held and she shoved them behind her back as she looked up at him.

  “You—” She shook her head. He could see how uncomfortable she was at such hard and heavy emotion. At confrontation. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  He chuckled now, though he found very little humor in this situation. “You wish to talk to me about should and shouldn’t? Where is your sister, Thomasina? Why were you pretending to be Anne? You owe me those explanations.”

  She stared at him and then at the letter in her hand. “Sh-sh-she…”

  She trailed off and her knees buckled slightly. He stretched out a hand and caught her elbow, steadying her for a third time, just as moved by touching her as he had been previously.

  She jerked away from him. “We must find Juliana, my lord. She’ll—she’ll know what to do.”

  “Thomasina!” he snapped, his tone far sharper than perhaps she deserved, despite her reticence to tell him the truth.

  She looked up at him. “Please!” she cried out. “Do not argue.”

  He held her stare, exploring the pure panic, the abject terror on her face. Whatever she and Anne were up to, it was not going well. And there was a deep pit of dread in his stomach, for he knew whatever had been done would probably affect him and his plans, as well.

  “Fine,” he ground out. “I will help you find her. But then I will need an explanation. From you.”

  She caught her breath and then her chin dropped. “And you shall have it, my lord. God help us all.”

  Thomasina paced the parlor, worrying her hands in front of her body. She felt tight, like an overly wound clock that was ready to break. That sensation was only made worse by the fact that Harcourt sat on a chair before the fire, just watching her. He had not spoken since he sent his servant to find Juliana. She had waited for him to do so. To question and interrogate and demand and shout. All things she deserved considering the circumstances.

  He had done none of them. But he had also not taken his eyes off of her.

  She felt his silent disdain for her with every turn she made. It seemed to drip from every facet of his focused regard. And it would only get worse. When he knew the truth, he would detest her even more. He would hate her as deeply as he would surely hate Anne.

  The door to the parlor opened and Juliana stepped through the entryway. Thomasina made a soft sound of relief and hurried toward her sister. She was brought up short when their father entered the room behind Juliana.


  Oh God, this was going to be even worse. If she didn’t get to tell her sister the truth first, she wouldn’t be able to convince Juliana to deal with their father. That would fall on Thomasina. All of it would.

  “What is going on?” Mr. Shelley said, his tone sharp as he glanced from Thomasina to Harcourt and back again. “Harcourt’s man Willard came to fetch your sister while she and I were on the dancefloor, telling her that Thomasina wanted to see her. Where is she, Anne?”

  Thomasina flinched at his inability to see her for who she was. He had never been able to identify any of his daughters from each other, at least not by mere glance. An inability Harcourt didn’t share, apparently, and as his eyebrows lifted, she could see he judged her father for not knowing who she was.

  She cleared her throat. “Er, I am Thomasina, Papa.”

  Juliana bent her head and her breath left her mouth in a long sigh. “Oh, I thought you were being strange when you entered the ballroom tonight. That is why you were avoiding me. Thomasina!”

  Her father shook his head. “Great God, you were playing your sister at her engagement ball? What is wrong with you?” He pivoted on Harcourt. “You must forgive them, my lord. I thought they had outgrown such foolish notions as to trade places, but here we are. I’m certain there is no ill intent to the act.”

  “Are you?” Harcourt said, folding his fingers together and looking past Mr. Shelley to spear Thomasina with an even gaze. “I am far less so. I want to hear from Thomasina about why she would do such a foolhardy thing. I would also like to know where exactly my fiancée actually is.”

  Thomasina could barely hold herself upright at his pointed, accusatory tone and words. She was going to have to tell the truth now. Tell him the truth. In this room where everyone was staring at her, waiting for her to explain herself and Anne, his was the most important gaze. He held her captive with it. There was only him.

  She felt Juliana move next to her. Felt her sister take her hand, but she couldn’t drag her gaze from Harcourt. Even when Juliana whispered, “Just say something, dearest. You are frightening me.”

  Her father was less gentle and his sharp “Speak!” broke her state.

  She shook her head. “I—Anne asked me to take her place. She said it was just for tonight, a way for her to clear her mind. To get herself into a better attitude for the wedding. But—but—”

  Harcourt rose from his seat at last, a slow unfolding of long legs and arms. He moved toward her a step, his voice suddenly gentle. “But?”

  She swallowed past the dryness of her mouth, the thickness in her throat, and squeaked, “She ran away.”

  She held the note out toward him, but before he could take it, her father snatched it. He and Juliana bent over the words, shouting together, but Thomasina could barely hear them, barely registered as they rushed together out of the room, probably to look for Anne. All she could do was stare at Harcourt.

  And he stared back, his expression impassive. He didn’t look angry or sad or upset. He was utterly unreadable and completely captivating. His gaze flitted from her head to her toes.

  “You agreed to this nonsense?” he said softly. She felt the accusation in every word.

  “I-I didn’t know her plans, my lord, or I would have tried to talk her out of such a foolish thing,” she said, and wished he would believe her. Wished, did not imagine.

  “Hmmm,” was his only response, and he moved another few steps closer.

  She braced for him to touch her, as he had done on the terrace, in the hall, but he passed by her, only brushing her shoulder with his own and bent to retrieve the note from her sister.

  “Did my father drop that?” she asked, stunned for she hadn’t noticed that.

  He nodded. “In their haste, they were not thinking to hide the further evidence of your sister’s ridiculous behavior.” He turned over the note and read it slowly. Finally, he lifted his stare to hers again. “Well, we certainly have ourselves a serious problem here, don’t we, Thomasina Shelley? Now I wonder, what in the world do you propose we do about it?”

  Chapter 4

  In his life, Jasper had experienced a great many betrayals. Living with a father and a brother such as his, he’d been disappointed and deceived enough times that he had learned to harden himself to it. Harden himself to any emotion that could allow him to be hurt in such a way.

  And he had. Marrying Anne was yet another method of self-protection. He would receive a fine dowry, enough to help him with the financial problems left behind by the previous two holders of his title. There had never been any emotional attachments to cling to. So the fact that Anne had run away was little more than an annoyance to him. A reminder that one did not allow a gentleman to match one with a flibbertigibbet of a girl.

  But when he looked at Thomasina and knew she had taken a part, even a small one, in this deception, his reaction was far more passionate. He was angry with her. Angry that she would not refuse such a silly request or at least look into it further.

  Then beyond that was another emotion. One he really didn’t want to face and yet it kept rising up in his chest as he stared at Thomasina, her gaze firmly on her feet and her lips trembling slightly.

  He was relieved. After all, he certainly would not marry Anne now. She might be found in short order, but there would be talk and rumor along any route she took. There was no avoiding the secret coming out. So, if she was brought home, the idea of continuing the match was abhorrent.

  Which meant he was free. That also meant those powerful desires he felt toward Thomasina tonight were not quite so terrible as they had been an hour before.

  And yet he wasn’t free at the same time. He needed that Shelley dowry, plainly spoken. A broken engagement would materially damage his ability to find himself a bride of means. This was a scandal of exactly the kind his father and brother had destroyed themselves with. The kind he’d been trying to avoid for years.

  So he would be decimated by this broken engagement. And the relief fled.

  The door to the parlor opened again, and Juliana and Mr. Shelley returned. Their long faces verified what Thomasina had already said.

  “All her things are gone,” Juliana sighed. “Her poor maid was shocked.”

  “I should sack her!” Mr. Shelley fumed.

  “You shall not, Father,” Juliana said with a shake of her head. “You saw she wasn’t involved. But you were, Thomasina.”

  They both focused on Thomasina now, and Jasper watched her shrink a little as accusations flew from both Juliana and her father. Juliana’s were kinder, gentler. Shelley’s were loud and angry.

  She took them all, her shoulders slumping as she apologized and tried to explain exactly what she’d already said. He watched her mouth move while ignoring her words, and thought about how much he’d wanted to kiss her. He still wanted to kiss her, truth be told.

  And he really didn’t like the slump-shouldered lines of her right now. That she would take all the weight of what had happened when in truth it was Anne who had managed all this. Thomasina had been manipulated. Angry or not, he could see that.

  “Quiet,” he said at last, the harshness of his tone cutting through the chatter of the Shelley family members. They all fell silent at once, and he marked how Thomasina flinched and wouldn’t look at him.

  “My lord—” Shelley began.

  He held up a hand. “I said be quiet,” he growled, and speared the man with a look not to be ignored. Shelley shrank back a bit and nodded. “Your daughter has dishonored me.”

  Shelley gasped at the bluntness of the words and Juliana turned her face at them. But to his surprise, Thomasina’s shoulders pushed back and she straightened up a little as she took a long step in his direction. “My lord, please don’t be so hard on her.”

  He arched a brow at that interesting response. So she would not defend herself, but she would try to placate him against any harsh feelings he felt toward Anne.

  “And what about you?” He moved on her one step, two, crowding her
back a fraction and watching her pupils dilate with what he recognized was a combination of fear and arousal. She’d wanted him to kiss her as much as he’d wanted the same.

  And just like him, there was part of her that still wanted it.

  “What about me?” she squeaked.

  “Should I be hard on you, Thomasina Shelley? For going along with such foolishness? For offering your sister an escape route she might not have found without your assistance? Whether you knew it or not, that is what you did, isn’t it?”

  Her gaze held his for a moment, emerald depths, and then her lashes lowered. “You are owed your anger, of course.”

  “Thank you,” he said softly. Then he turned to her father. “And what do you offer as recompense?”

  “I-I don’t know,” Shelley stammered, shifting in his place and darting his gaze to Juliana, as if the young woman might have a suggestion. For her part, Juliana just looked tired. Bone-tired, like she had been dealing with messes to clean up for years. Perhaps she had at that, considering Thomasina had also wished to seek her out when trouble came in the form of a folded sheet of vellum.

  Jasper folded his arms and glared at Shelley. “Think.”

  Shelley cleared his throat. “Well, I…I can go after Anne, of course. Try to find her and bring her home.”

  Juliana spun on him, her eyes wide. “Well, of course you will, Father!”

  “You must,” Thomasina added, worrying her hands in front of her. “We know nothing about this…this Ellis person.”

  Jasper hesitated, for that name seemed familiar to him, just as it had when he’d read Anne’s note to her sister. He pushed it aside, along with thoughts of uncovering the man who had taken his intended. He would think of that later. Right now he had other situations to deal with.

  “The matter at hand,” he said slowly and succinctly, “is my marriage contract, Mr. Shelley. Finding Anne will not fix this. I would not accept her as a bride now that I know her nature and how objectionable she finds the engagement.”