Madelene heaved a sigh and looked around the room to determine how far away the bed warmer lay. Definitely out of reach. She pursed her lips in defeat. Obviously, she should have hit him a lot harder, a fact she’d remember for next time. A glance over at her husband showed him fast asleep. Close enough that she could feel his heat, touch his strong jaw, and know his indefatigable will.
She wouldn’t give up and would make him regret ever taking her to wife.
Someone shook her shoulder. “Not now, Millie, I need a little more sleep,” Madelene muttered.
“The name’s Westcott, not Millie, and it’s time for you to rise, Mrs. Westcott. We have more miles to cover on our journey.” He returned to the washbasin before going to the door and calling down for more water.
Patches of sunlight shone through the mottled window, illuminating the small room. Madelene slowly sat up, pushing her hair behind her, and looked around the room. It was true. All true. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was more of a daymare.
What would the new day bring, her first full day as Mrs. Gabriel Westcott? Hopefully, an opportunity to escape.
She rose from the bed and looked down to find her traveling dress wrinkled. Her eyes not fully opened, she crossed the room to her trunk when Westcott stopped her.
“No time for changing. Perform your ablutions, and I’ll have your trunk taken down to our carriage.”
“But I can’t,” she began, then shook her head. She needed to conserve her energy, having decided she would do whatever it took to leave Mr. Gabriel Westcott and this marriage far behind.
After a quick breakfast, they sat silently in their carriage continuing west, both occupied with their own thoughts.
Gabriel had known Miss Madelene Colgate would not be easily subdued, but he wanted her and wouldn’t let her go.
Madelene hated Gabriel for tricking her into marriage and removing her from her home and family. As the carriage wheels bumped along, taking her farther from London, she kept telling herself, “Escape, escape, escape.”
Chapter Six
“You want me go with you to Shropshire?” Mr. Leonard Brelford looked over at Sir Matthew Colgate with surprise, his drink forgotten in his hand.
“Yes. You’re the only one I can depend on to help me.” His friend stood by the Fleeting Stag’s fireplace with his brandy, staring distantly down at the amber light.
“I see,” Brelford said, but he didn’t. “You plan to save your sister from this Westcott bloke and bring her back here so I can marry her as we had planned?” he asked, dreading the answer. Although he much admired his friend, he had been greatly surprised and greatly relieved when someone else had married his sister.
Colgate frowned and shook his head. “No, no. I have to travel to Shropshire to collect something my sister mistakenly stored in her trunk. I have to take it to Canterbury within the month, and I am uncertain how long this endeavor may take.” He dropped his voice, clearly concerned someone might overhear their conversation.
“But your sister. Surely you’re worried about her welfare.”
“Of course,” Colgate responded. “However, the man who married her is known to me to be an honorable one and will see to her needs. But I promised a person of great power that I would recover this valuable dagger and deliver it to his family. In turn, I will receive a great deal of money.” He finished his brandy in one long swallow.
“I see.” Brelford paused. “A dagger. Why was this dagger in Miss Colgate’s trunk again?” Certainly it sounded like a far-fetched plan, which still didn’t sway Brelford’s admiration and affection for Colgate. If only he could show him how he really felt, the young man would have no further need for the female sort.
Colgate grunted before replying. “I had it on good authority someone planned to steal the dagger from me, which is when I decided to hide it in Madelene’s trunk, until I could safely hand it over to the—rightful owner. If I cannot return the dagger, I cannot even consider what might happen.”
“I see,” Brelford replied, not quite understanding Colgate’s lack of interest in his sister or his recklessness in willing to bargain with a nefarious person. Surely money was the root of all evil. “How long will we be gone and when shall we get started?” he asked, rising to his feet. He had preparations to make for their trip.
His friend looked over at Brelford with a smile. “Early tomorrow morning. Meet me at my house in Bloomsbury. We’ll leave from there, perhaps be gone about a week or more.”
Brelford nodded, then asked, “Have you thought about what you’re going to do if Miss Colgate sees you? She might want you to bring her home.”
Colgate waved his hand in the air, as if what his sister might want was inconsequential. “If we’re quick about it, she’ll never know we were there. That’s my plan.”
“And have you considered what to do if she or her new husband has already found the dagger before we arrive?” Brelford’s left eye began to twitch, which always happened when he became nervous or distressed.
With his empty glass in hand and a fierce look in his eyes, Colgate replied, “I mean to collect that dagger with or without my sister’s help. No one will stop me.”
Brelford could not resist chiding him. “Isn’t her new husband the man you fought a duel with and lost? Grateful he didn’t kill you. Leastwise, that is what you told me soon after.”
“I don’t plan to lose twice to the same man,” his young friend told him before heading in the opposite direction for more libation.
Another night, another inn. Bed warmers and any other potential weapons had been deliberately removed from their bedchamber. He grinned remembering how puzzled the staff looked when he requested any sharp objects be removed from their bedchamber, or any tools to start a fire. The idiosyncrasies of the gentry.
At the door to their room, he gestured for her to enter before him as he leaned against the doorjamb, glancing around the room. Nondescript, sparse of furniture with little décor or niceties, their bedroom resembled most inn accommodations.
She seemed nervous tonight, skittish, probably believing tonight would be the night he would truly claim her as his own. A desire he could not deny.
His body ached with wanting his nubile bride after spending much time in close proximity to her during their journey. He could smell the rosewater scent on her skin and shiny black hair. The previous night, he had glimpsed fair skin and graceful ankles in her borrowed robe and knew a fierce desire to possess her.
But he wanted her to want him with the same ferocity. After they consummated the marriage, it wouldn’t be long before he would be satiated with her and anxious for their sham marriage to end. Then he could begin his search for a more suitable wife.
Appreciating the fact they both wanted their journey to be over, Gabriel thought to ease Madelene’s mind. “Since I can’t trust you not to effect a plan of flight, we will sleep in the same room and in the same bed, as we did last night. However, I have no intentions on your body. You’re much too skinny for my taste, and your feet are a bit scrawny, almost like a child’s.” He ignored her blazing blue eyes and turned to remove his coat and boots before starting to wash.
Perhaps this will give her something else to think about. He heard Madelene’s footsteps on the creaking boards as she paced the room. Gabriel dried his face and turned to watch Madelene stop long enough to pull off her bonnet and gloves, her lips in grim impatience.
“Madelene, you must be exhausted. Tomorrow we should reach Westcott Close, which will certainly be a relief to both of us.”
She