The Bride Thief

“My lord, Sir Justin,” she said. “How kind of you to visit me again, so soon.”

The words had their intended effect, despite her gentle manner, and Justin inwardly cringed. He felt like a damned dog, sitting by her door night and day, and could only imagine how Lady Evelyn felt—probably like some prize calf at a fair being handed away to the highest bidder. She’d borne the matter admirably, and much more kindly than he would have done. Finding herself so suddenly betrothed to a complete stranger by the duke of Gloucester’s command must have been, for a beauty of her renown, quite an unpleasant shock. Until now she’d held court to an impressive assemblage of admirers, every one of them more suitable as a husband than Justin knew himself to be.

She was beautiful, educated, intelligent. At least Hugh had done that much in choosing a wife for him. And yet, Justin wondered if Lady Evelyn knew what she would lose if she married him. Talwar, with its simple comforts that appealed to Justin’s own nature perfectly, was like a stable compared to the grand wealth of this home where Lady Evelyn had been raised. Was that why she so firmly resisted the match? He was afraid it was only a small part of the reason.

“Thank you for receiving us, my lady,” he said, adding to her father, Baron Hersell, Sir Myles, “and thank you, my lord, for your long suffering in this unusual matter.”

Then, aware that the action would probably be viewed as extraordinarily rude, Justin walked past Lady Evelyn and Sir Myles, fully ignoring their surprise, and strode across the room to where another lady, dark-haired and plainly dressed, sat at a small table behind a stack of large leather-bound books. Seeing his approach, which she’d clearly expected even less than Lady Evelyn and Sir Myles, the girl flushed brightly and clumsily slammed shut the particular book in which she’d been making entries.

“Lady Isabelle.” Justin took the cold fingers she shakily proffered. Her heavy skirt caught beneath her chair as she awkwardly attempted to stand, causing her to stumble forward. Justin set a hand upon her waist to steady her, and the girl’s color became a fiery red.

“Sir Justin,” she murmured with what sounded like horror, her sapphire eyes wide.

Justin bowed over her hand. “It is a pleasure to see you again. I hope this day finds you well?”

“Oh, yes. Yes. Thank you.”

“Will you have a glass of wine, my lord?” Lady Evelyn asked behind him, displeasure clear in her tone.

Justin smiled into Lady Isabelle’s worried eyes. “Will we have the joy of your company, as well, this day, my lady?” he asked, holding fast the fingers that she attempted to tug free.

“Oh—I don’t think—”

“I fear that my niece is too occupied with her work to join us, Sir Justin,” Sir Myles stated over Justin’s shoulder. “Isn’t that so, Isabelle?”

“Isn’t she always?” Justin murmured, too low for anyone but Lady Isabelle to hear. He released her and stepped away, turning to Sir Myles with a pleasant smile.

“Have you received the satisfaction you sought from the duke?” he asked as they walked together toward the table where Lady Evelyn was filling golden goblets with wine.

“I regret to say, my lord, that I have not. I spoke with Duke Humphrey yesterday, as I promised you I would, but I remain unconvinced of the legality of his dictates. To that end, I’ve sent a missive to France for the duke’s brother, John of Lancaster.”

Justin’s brow furrowed. “John of Lancaster? How can he have any say in the matter? His concerns are only for France, as England’s regent there. Surely he would not gainsay the duke of Gloucester in any such domestic matter as this.”

“This may be true,” the baron admitted kindly, accepting the goblet his daughter handed him. “Nonetheless, I will await word from him until I make my final decision.”

“But that may be many weeks, my lord. I have been commanded to wed before this month finds its end, three days from now, else I lose all that I hold as my own.”

Sir Myles’s smile never wavered. “I understand, my lord, and I appreciate your concerns, but I cannot—will not—force my daughter to wed you or any man unless she freely consents to do so. It was her mother’s final wish that Evelyn be allowed to have a husband of her own choosing. ’Tis an oddity, s’truth, but I gave my oath of honor and cannot turn from it.”

Justin’s steady gaze moved to Lady Evelyn’s lovely face. “And you, my lady. Every day for the past month I have come, asking the same question. Has your heart experienced a change since yesterday? Do you have a different answer for me?”

The expression in her eyes told him that he was the most desirable man on God’s earth, while her lips said, “You must know how flattered I am by your declarations, my lord. I can think of no finer fate than to be wife to a man such as you are. And yet, if I only had a little more time to think on the matter… You could not wish me to come to you, to wed you, unless I can bring my whole heart?”

There it was, Justin thought. The same as every day. They must believe him to be a fool ten times over. He felt the trap being laid out as surely as if Lady Evelyn and Sir Myles were spreading a net on the floor beneath his feet. They were a cunning pair, he admitted, but come the morrow, they would know who it was had played their game the better.

“Nay. I would not.”

“Perhaps,” Sir Myles said lightly, “if Evelyn could be more certain of your regard for her, Sir Justin, such a step might become easier for her to take. After all, you were chosen for each other by the duke and your brother, the earl of Siere. It is understandable that any maid, under such like circumstances, would question the sincerity of her betrothed’s feelings.”

“I have come every day to ask Lady Evelyn to become my wife,” Justin told him. “If, after twenty-seven proposals, my desire to wed her is not evident, I cannot think that a hundred more would make the matter clearer.”

“But you would not be making such proposals if ‘twere not for the duke’s command,” Sir Myles argued, while Lady Evelyn blushed prettily. “If there were some way that you might make your own feelings in the matter more sincere, I’m certain Evelyn would feel secure in becoming your wife.”

Justin’s eyebrows rose. “More sincere?”

“Certainly,” Sir Myles said pleasantly, setting his wine goblet aside. “If you truly desire to make Evelyn your wife, could you not prove it by perhaps gifting her with some evidence of that desire? The dowry she brings to her marriage will be exceptional. A suitable marriage gift from you, in turn, would be proof of your consideration for her as a bride.”

“Father, please,” Lady Evelyn protested. “You make it sound like the veriest extortion. I’ll not be bought, nor bargained for. I want only to be certain of Sir Justin’s honest hope to wed with me, nothing more. Is it too much to ask, when we are to be bound together for life?”

“Nay, of course not,” Justin assured her, praying that he sounded fully sincere. He had never been good at plotting and deception, but if he failed in this, all would be lost.

“Perhaps,” Christian said gently, putting his own wine goblet down, “we should leave Lady Evelyn and Sir Justin to discuss the matter more privately.” He turned to Sir Myles. “I’ve been fascinated by the architecture of your fine home, my lord. Would you be so kind as to let me examine it more closely? There are a good many improvements here that I should like to have made at Briarstone, and I would very much appreciate it if you could explain the workings of some of them.”

With a bow, Sir Myles acquiesced. “A wise consideration, my lord. Indeed, perhaps Sir Justin and my daughter will be able to find their way more readily without company present. I will, of course, leave Isabelle.”

“Father, nay,” Lady Evelyn said quickly. “We have no need of an attendant.”

Sir Myles gave her a wry smile. “Haven’t you, my dear?” To Justin he said, “We will leave you for half an hour’s time. No more.”

“I am grateful,” Justin replied. “Thank you, my lord. You will have no cause for worry. I vow it on my honor as a knight of the realm.”

The baron was apparently reassured, and shortly left the chamber with Christian following behind. Justin waited until they had gone before turning his attention to Lady Evelyn, who, with a smile, had taken the liberty of refilling his wine goblet.

Chapter Two (#ulink_16e6795f-3e9e-5ff5-a7e9-6ac5f4b2ca5b)

Don’t trust her, my lord, Isabelle thought from her chair, keeping her eyes firmly on the page before her. Don’t trust either of them. ‘Tis only your land they want, only the power and influence they might gain by wedding themselves to your family.

With all the strength she possessed, Isabelle willed him to heed her silent plea.

“More wine, my lord?” Evelyn offered in the beguiling manner that never failed to charm.

“Nay, I thank you,” Sir Justin replied, and Isabelle whispered a sigh of thanks. Evelyn was captivating enough without the aid of wine, and Sir Justin would need every faculty undimmed if he was to avoid the neat trap that Sir Myles and his daughter had set for him.

He was different from the other men who courted her cousin. Entirely, wonderfully, different. Not only in his splendid physical frame, so tall and muscular, or in his face, which was by far the most handsome Isabelle had ever seen, but in his manner. Where other men praised Evelyn’s beauty with gallant words and poetry, Sir Justin spoke his admirations plainly, simply. Where other men hid behind masks of elegance and propriety, Sir Justin was open and honest, as clear as a bright day.

The next moment, she heard him add, “Will you not offer some to your cousin, who labors so greatly?” and, as Isabelle stiffened with panic and dread, he continued, even more gently, “Indeed, never once have I seen Lady Isabelle when she has not been busy with your father’s accounts. What wonderful diligence.”

Drawing in a breath through parted lips, Isabelle lifted her head, already knowing that he was looking at her. His kindness, though well-meant, was a torture for her. When her uncle and cousin had finally finished toying with him, when Evelyn at last agreed to be his wife, Isabelle knew she wouldn’t be able to bear it any longer—seeing him, suffering his gentle manners and kind ways, his pity. He was simply staring at her, she saw. Not smiling, not frowning. Simply looking into her eyes from across the room.

“Your father,” he said slowly, holding her gaze, “is most blessed to have such a considerate niece.”

“You speak truly,” Evelyn replied with the sweetness she generally reserved for such public displays. “I don’t know what we would do without cousin Isabelle. She’s an angel in every way. She knows very well that Father expects nothing from her in turn for his care of her and Senet, yet she insists upon relieving him of the most tedious duties.” She strolled toward Isabelle carrying a goblet, the tight smile on her lips giving full warning of what Isabelle had in store as soon as Sir Justin departed. “You’ve spoiled us terribly, Isabelle, dear,” she said, setting the goblet with slow care before the pile of books. “And you’ve been working so hard. Wouldn’t you enjoy a rest? Perhaps a walk in the gardens?”

Oh, no, Isabelle thought. She couldn’t save Sir Justin Baldwin entirely from her uncle and cousin, but one thing she could do was not leave him alone to battle Evelyn’s deft machinations. A few minutes alone under the heat of Evelyn’s seductive persuasions and his marriage to her would be as good as done.

“Thank you, Cousin,” she said, dipping her quill in the inkpot and bending over her work again, “but I’ll just finish this first.”

Isabelle didn’t need to see Evelyn’s fury. She could feel the heat of it where she sat.