Seven Wicked Nights (Turner #1.5)

“The marriage contract—”

He shrugged. “I don’t think we’ll have any difficulty about that. Sir William, I am sure, can be made to see reason.” Especially if Gareth gave him no choice.

“The guests,” said Helen hesitantly.

“Oh yes, I suppose we’ll have to tell them. I’ll send my mother to the church.” Everyone stared at him in disbelief. “If she won’t go, I’ll have Sophronia step in,” he added. “She’d delight in calling off a wedding.”

Cleo made a noise suspiciously like a smothered laugh. It made Gareth smile wider. He loved being able to make her laugh.

The runaway lovers exchanged a glance, then Blair stepped forward.

“Wessex,” he said humbly. “I must apologize. You would have been well within bounds to call me out over this.”

“What good would that do?” he asked, surprised. “You’re my right arm, James. You might have told me earlier you had feelings for Helen, but—” he shot Cleo another glance “—in the end your timing was nothing less than perfect. Allow me to wish you great joy.” He shook hands with his cousin. Helen hurried to his side, and he raised her hand to his lips. “And of course, since you’re to be married,” Gareth went on, “I must make you a wedding gift. A manor house, I think, somewhere nearby. You must be able to visit often.”

All three of them regarded him in shock. James just nodded, his jaw working as if he couldn’t speak. Helen covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide with hopeful joy. Gareth clapped James on the shoulder. “I don’t believe anyone else knows you’ve returned,” he said meaningfully, “but don’t take Jack’s carriage this time. There’s no reason to drive Hippolyta into the ground when the archbishop himself will be here. I suggest concluding your courtship in more … comfort.”

Blair blinked a few times, then began to grin. “Wessex, I shall be in your debt forever,” he said, before grasping Helen’s hand and pulling her out of the room. Gareth watched them go and even raised a hand in farewell.

“That was extremely generous,” said Cleo in the quiet that followed.

He nodded.

“You want them to be happy together,” she said, amazed.

He nodded again.

She bit her lip. “What will you tell the wedding guests?”

He lifted one shoulder. “That I won’t be marrying your sister. It’s fairly simple.”

She studied him. “What will your family say?”

He cocked his head to one side, a slight grin tugging at his mouth. “My mother, I expect, will be delighted. She wants me to be happy, and I would never have been happy married to your sister, as charming and lovely as she is.” He started pacing toward her deliberately. “My sisters will be thrilled at the excitement of it all, particularly as they will still have Helen as a cousin. Sophronia may be put out, I grant you, at the absence of scandal and uproar, but she knew the first night that Helen and I were never meant to be.”

“What did Mr. Blair’s note say?” she asked, even as a soft blush stained her cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell my parents when you found it?”

“Good Lord, why would I do that?” He grimaced. “Your father might have tried to do something foolish, like stop them.”

“Stop them! But they were already gone—” She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening. “When did you find it?”

“Last night,” he said. “About two hours after dinner. I couldn’t sleep and went to my study, where James had left it. I daresay they couldn’t have got much past Dorchester by then.”

“Last night!” she gasped.

Gareth nodded. “I knew they would need as much time as possible to get well away. I had gone to my study to plot how I could persuade your sister to jilt me. You might imagine my relief upon discovering that she had already worked out how to do it. All I needed to do was stay quietly in my study.”

She appeared unable to speak. Gently he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, loving the way her body softened against his until they fit together like two halves of a whole.

“If they hadn’t run off, I don’t know what I would have done,” he whispered. “Do you know, I saw my place in hell waiting for me as the wedding day approached. That’s what I would have earned, marrying your sister when all I could think of was you. Especially like this,” he added, casting a suggestive glance down at her ripped gown.

“When?” she asked softly. “When did you start thinking that?”

Gareth shook his head. “The moment you stepped out of the carriage a fortnight ago.” She looked at him suspiciously. He nodded. “Oh, yes, lightning struck as you stepped out of the carriage. Toppled one of my oldest oaks to the ground, don’t you remember? Split it right down the middle, and the whole thing fell. Much like my heart did when you looked at me.”