Beauty for Ashes

“Dearest!”

Elizabeth froze as, with one fluid motion, the man leaped to his feet, spun about, grasped her upper arms and drew her close. Shock held her motionless. But only for an instant. She began to struggle. “Unhand me, sir!”

The grip on her arms tightened. “Stop fighting! Breams is watching.”

The words were snarled under the man’s breath as he pinioned her to his broad chest. Elizabeth struggled harder, the feel of the man’s powerful hands upon her driving all coherent thought from her mind. Fear writhed like a living thing in the pit of her stomach. Her pulse roared in her ears. Her head began to spin and she felt herself falling toward the deep, dark vortex of a whirling darkness. Terror gripped her. She forgot the man and fought the smothering darkness. When it receded, there was the firm, hard, security of a wooden chair beneath her. She drew a long, shuddering breath.

“Are you all right?”

The words were curt, abrupt, and full of distaste—but there was an underlying note of concern in Mr. Randolph’s deep voice that made Elizabeth nod her head. It wasn’t much of a nod, for her head was still spinning, but apparently it satisfied him for he removed his hand from her shoulder and moved away to seat himself on the other side of the table. Her breath came more easily when he had gone.

“You’re certain you’re all right?” His voice now held an impatient note of inquisition. “You look quite pale.”

“I—I’m fine. If I might have a moment…” Elizabeth closed her lips firmly to prevent the sobs that were clawing at her throat from breaking free. She had nearly swooned again! What was wrong with her? Tears welled up behind her closed eyes. She swallowed painfully, fighting them back.

“It seems I startled you. I apologize for that, but I had to keep you from ruining my plan. You see, I am known here. And, as these people know only that we are newly married—not that we are newly met—they would naturally expect our meeting, after the disaster of last night, to be a loving one.”

Elizabeth clamped her jaws tightly together, using the pain it caused to stifle a sudden, strong impulse to laugh. Their meeting had certainly fallen far short of such expectations! Her lips twitched.

“You find our situation amusing?”

A shiver of fear slithered down her spine at his cold tone. “No, I do not, Mr. Randolph. I only—” The laughter bubbled up and burst from Elizabeth’s throat. She couldn’t stop it. Horrified, she buried her face in her hands while the uncontrollable hilarity poured from her.

The table jerked and her new husband’s chair scraped against the floor. “Your nerves are overwrought. I’ll give you a moment to compose yourself.”

The whispered words hit Elizabeth like a splash of cold water. The laughter died. She jerked her head up and stared at Mr. Randolph’s rapidly retreating back. Of course she was overwrought! Who wouldn’t be, in her situation? Still…Elizabeth’s spurt of anger dissolved into worry. Why had she swooned? Was she ill? Something was wrong with her. She blinked away tears, leaned back against the turned wood spindles of the chair she occupied and stared down at the fire on the hearth. So much had happened so quickly. So much had changed! Surely it was natural that she should be—

“The arrangements are made. Mary will be bringing our meal promptly. Please comport yourself as a loving bride while she is near.” The whispered order startled Elizabeth as much as Mr. Randolph’s quiet return. She jumped and looked up at him. An expression of extreme distaste crossed his features as their gazes met for the first time. “You’re beautiful!”

The words were an accusation, not a compliment. Elizabeth stiffened with shock at his rudeness. “Thank you, Mr. Randolph. You make a pleasing appearance yourself.”

A small, mocking bow of her husband’s dark, handsome head acknowledged her cool, impeccably correct response. “No doubt others will comment on what a lovely couple we make.”

Elizabeth’s chin lifted at the undertone of dislike in his voice. She stared fully into his acrimonious gaze, then sighed heavily and clasped her hands on top of the table. She’d been nothing but trouble to the man—how else should he feel about her? “Mr. Randolph, I realize I have made a very poor beginning in our…er…relationship. And I offer you my sincere apology for all of the embarrassment and trouble I have caused you.” Her cheeks warmed. She looked down at the scarred tabletop. “I understand that I swooned last evening, and I am mortified, sir, that you were forced to carry me into the inn.”

She looked back up at him. “I wish you to know that I have never swooned before, and that I am not weak or sickly. Also, I want to apologize for my actions upon our meeting earlier. They were out of character for me. And, last, permit me to say that you were most gracious and kind to provide such thoughtful care for me last evening. I am truly grateful.”

“You are telling me that your fainting spell last evening was an unusual occurrence?”

He had completely ignored her apology! Elizabeth lifted her chin a notch higher. “Yes. Most unusual.”

“I see. And to what do you attribute this…unusual…swoon?”

His dark, penetrating gaze made her want to squirm—and his cold, arrogant tone made her want to rise to her feet and walk away. She did neither. “I am without an explanation, Mr. Randolph. However, as I said earlier, I do not wish you to think me weak or sickly, for I am neither.”

He made an abrupt gesture of dismissal with his hand and Elizabeth had the distinct impression he did not believe a word she had said. She drew breath to emphasize her point just as the door to the common room opened and a tall, thin man in a long, black great coat entered. The words she had been about to utter flew from her mind. The man slammed the door shut, stomped mud from his feet and swept his hat from his head. Bald! He was bald. It wasn’t Reginald. Elizabeth sagged back against the chair.

“…your gratitude is unnecessary.”

Mr. Randolph’s cool voice caught her attention. She turned her gaze back to the stranger she had married.

“Our agreement states that I will provide for your needs—as my wife, that is due you. I am both willing, and able, to live up to the responsibilities placed upon me by this marriage. However, we shall delay discussion of these things until we are in the privacy of the carriage. For now, it is enough for you to know we must play the part of love-smitten newlyweds.” His gaze hardened. “As I said earlier, I am known here. And I will have no doubt, or stigma, attached to this marriage.” The coldness in his low-pitched voice belied the attitude of adoration her new husband exhibited as he leaned across the table toward her. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Oh, yes. Quite clear. You wish me to portray a loving bride so our relationship will appear to be as other marriages.”

“Precisely!” He leaned back in his chair. “You do understand, however, that you are to perform so only when we are in the company of others. When we are alone, there will be no intimacy between us.” He studied her closely. “You do understand that?”

“Oh, yes. That is the basis of our…arrangement.”

“Excellent! I’m pleased to learn you are not an empty-headed piece of froth.” He ignored her startled gasp and continued. “Now, I dislike formality. Please call me by my given name—Justin.”

“Very well.”

“And, of course, I shall call you Elizabeth. That is your name, is it not?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly he leaned toward her and smiled. Elizabeth blinked, taken aback by the transformation in his face. A warning look leaped into his eyes. “Here is Mary, with our meal, dearest. I hope the food will strengthen you. You so frightened me last night.”

So that was what had brought about the sudden change. What an actor! The man’s voice was fairly throbbing with emotion. Well, Mr. Justin Randolph would not find her performance wanting! Elizabeth glanced at him from beneath lowered lashes as a young woman set plates of hot stew before them. “There’s no need for alarm, dearest, I’m quite recovered.”

Her voice could have melted butter. She smiled with satisfaction, then grimaced at the hunger pang that cramped her stomach as the delicious aroma of the stew wafted upward. It had been more than a full day since her last meal.

“Pray begin, beloved. You had no meal last evening, and you are too slight to go so long without sustenance.”

Now that had sounded almost sincere! The thoughtfulness surprised her. Elizabeth smiled and reached for her fork.

Justin stared. She had incredible eyes. They were the deepest, darkest blue he had ever seen. Something stirred at the fringe of his mind as he gazed into their depths, but when he grasped for the thought it disappeared into nothingness, as insubstantial as the wisps of steam rising from their food. He frowned and shifted his weight in his chair, uncomfortably aware that his emotions as well as his mind were stirring. Firmly he forced them to stillness. He was no longer a young, romantic fool to lose his head over a beautiful face. And she was beautiful—there was no denying that. His gaze swept over her finely molded nose, across her lovely high cheekbones, and down to her full, rose-colored lips. They were still curved in that warm, grateful smile and exposed small, even, white teeth to his view. Only the discolored, swollen jaw marred her features’ perfection. The sight of the bruise jarred him back to his senses. He scowled, picked up his fork and began to eat.

Chapter Six

I t was raining when they left the inn. A howling wind whipped around the far corner of the building and tugged at Elizabeth’s cloak. She staggered beneath the force of it.

Justin stepped between her and the frigid, buffeting gusts. “Nasty day.”

“Yes.” The word was snatched from her mouth and carried away.

Justin opened the door of the hired cabriolet, braced it with his shoulder and handed her inside. A sudden blast of icy air slammed the door shut as he climbed in after her. At once the throaty roar of the wind was reduced to a muffled, moaning sigh. A curious sense of intimacy pervaded the inside of the shuddering carriage as the elements were closed out. He settled himself on the seat beside her as the carriage gave a lurch and rolled forward. “Well, we are on our way.”

“Yes.” Elizabeth arranged her cloak, and, under cover of the movement, slid closer to the outside of the carriage. “If I may ask, sir, what is our destination?”

“Philadelphia.” Justin lifted a rug from the pile he’d placed on his lap and unfolded it. “Have you been to our fair city?” He leaned over and spread the fur robe across Elizabeth’s lap.

“N-no. I haven’t had the p-pleasure.”

Justin frowned and looked up from covering his own lap. “Your face is pale and you’re shivering. Are you taking a chill?”

“No. I’m f-fine.” Elizabeth stared down at her hands trying to will them to stillness. It didn’t work. She gave up and tucked them out of sight under the rug. Philadelphia. Reginald would never find her there. She was safe! She glanced up to find Justin Randolph looking expectantly at her. “I beg your pardon, sir. I fear I was wool-gathering. Did you say something?”