Weddings of the Century: A Pair of Wedding Novellas Read online

  She gave him a light kiss. "I don't expect that Papa will be best pleased, but he has no power to forbid me from marrying where I choose."

  He kissed her back, not at all lightly. One thing led to another, and half an hour passed most enjoyably. Making love in the daylight had a special kind of intimacy. As he held her gaze with his, she breathlessly decided that she could grow very fond of it.

  As they sprawled together in a tangle of damp, naked limbs, a shotgun blasted outside the cottage and a deep voice bellowed, "We know you're in there, Chand-a-la! Send Miss Mayfield out right now. If she's hurt, you're a dead man!"

  Roxanne squeaked and sat bolt upright while Dominick rolled from the bed and grabbed for his scattered clothing. "Bloody hell, now we're in for it! I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to pitch you into the middle of a scandal. We'll have to take that tropical honeymoon until the gossip dies down."

  She dived from the bed and began yanking on her own garments, her heart pounding in panic. As soon as they saw her, every man out there was going to know exactly what she had been doing! Not that she was ashamed of her actions, but she would rather that all Devonshire didn't know.

  Shotgun pellets rattled against the cottage wall, shattering a window. "Damnation!" Dominick swiftly pulled Roxanne to one side. "You'd better tell them you're all right, but don't stand in front of the window to do it."

  Frantically she yelled, "Don't worry, I'm fine. I'll be out in a moment."

  A familiar voice bellowed, "Is that really you, Roxanne?"

  "My father!" she said with horror. Raising her voice, she replied, "Yes, Papa, it's really me."

  Wordlessly Dominick fastened the back of her gown. His touch helped soothe her fear. She gave an unhappy thought to her hair, but if she delayed to fix it, the men outside might come in after her, and that could be disastrous.

  She headed toward the front door. Before she could open it, Dominick took her hand. "We'll go out together."

  She tried to disengage his clasp. "They might shoot you."

  "They're looking for the Wild Man, not an English gentleman, so I'll be safe enough," he said reasonably. "Besides, I don't want to let you out of my sight ever again." He accompanied his words with a quick kiss.

  Certainly he looked every inch a gentleman, not a savage. She was foolish to be so concerned. Yet she could not escape the fear that her newfound happiness was about to be shattered forever. Raising her chin, she led the way outside.

  There was an instant of silence. Then her father roared, "Damn you to hell, Chandler! What are you doing with my daughter?"

  When Roxanne flinched, Dominick murmured, "How nice to know that one hasn't been forgotten." Raising his voice, he said, "I've come to claim my bride after too long a betrothal! I hope you will wish us happy."

  Face red with fury, Sir William stormed out of the shrubbery, several men behind him. "Wish you happy! You, you criminal! Did you hire that filthy savage to kidnap Roxanne?"

  "Not at all," was the calm reply. "I am that filthy savage."

  The baronet's jaw dropped as he stared at Dominick's face. When he recognized the eyes and features of Chand-a-la, he gasped, "You imposter! How dare you mock the scholarly pursuit of knowledge."

  One of the searchers said with interest, "Well, I'll be, this gent here is the Wild Man." A murmur rose from the others.

  Sir William snapped, "You lot get out of earshot. We have private matters to discuss."

  With obvious reluctance, the other men withdrew and settled down to watch the show. Dominick waited until they were out of range, then said, "No subterfuge would have been necessary if you hadn't separated us for your own selfish reasons. But this time you will fail. My mother is dead, and there is nothing you can say to make me give Roxanne up."

  Sir William appeared on the verge of explosion. Turning his attention to his daughter, he said, "Have you no shame? Allowing yourself to be seduced by this fortune hunter! Not only did he viciously extort money on the promise that he would leave you alone, but he has broken his solemn word never to see you again."

  "A vow extracted under duress is not valid," Dominick pointed out.

  Glaring, the baronet said, "What's your price this time? Since you've already ruined her, I won't pay as much as before, but it would be worth a couple of hundred pounds to get rid of you again."

  "You never paid me a penny, Mayfield," Dominick said coldly. "I've told Roxanne the truth about how you falsified that document, so don't think you can deceive her this time."

  For a moment the baronet appeared off balance. Then he said to his daughter, "You believed him? The man's a liar through and through. Having ruined God only knows how many other females in the last ten years, now he's back for another go at you."

  "He loves me, Papa, and I'll not let you come between us." Though Roxanne's words were brave, Dominick saw that her fragile confidence was eroding under her father's bullying.

  Sir William's contemptuous glance raked down her. "You're hardly the sort to catch the fancy of a man of the world."

  "Don't speak to her that way!" Dominick snapped. "Any man would be proud to have Roxanne as a wife."

  Despite his words, her face paled and her hand slipped out of his. Dear God, he was losing her! Even though her blazing hair still rioted around her small face, she was reverting to the meek, colorless woman who had come to the inn, and he didn't know how to prevent it from happening.

  Pressing his advantage, the baronet said, "Have you no more brains than a goose? Chandler is after your fortune, for after I die, you'll be a considerable heiress. If you go with him, he'll live off your expectations. When he can't wring any more credit out of the moneylenders, he'll leave you flat. He's done it before, at least twice to my knowledge. Even if he goes through a marriage ceremony with you, it will be bigamous and illegal."

  "No," she cried, horrified. "That can't be true."

  "You're damned right it isn't!" Dominick said sharply. "I've never been wed, and have been betrothed only to Roxanne. For ten long years."

  Simultaneously Sir William said, "It's all true, and more. I've followed Chandler's disgusting career for years." His lip curled. "Who are you going to believe? The father who has raised and protected you all your life, or a sly, deceitful rake?"

  When her stark gaze went to him, Dominick said with anguish, "My God, Roxanne, after all that has passed between us, how can you not trust me?"

  Her face mirroring the doubts warring within her, she said wretchedly, "I want to believe you, but…but I've never known my father to lie."

  Dominick's eyes narrowed as he looked at the baronet. "On the contrary, he lies so well and so smoothly that I now wonder about the story he told me ten years ago, that my father was responsible for a young woman's suicide."

  Ignoring him, Sir William said piously, "It's a sad day when a daughter doubts her father's word."

  She pressed her hands to her temples, looking as if she was about to faint. She whispered, "Dominick?"

  He shuddered and his hands clenched into fists. "I've told you the truth," he said tightly. "It's my word against his, and you're going to have to decide whom you believe."

  As she stared at him, paralyzed with indecision, her father put his arm around her shoulders and said in a gentler tone, "Come home, Roxanne. You've been a fool, but you're still my daughter. I'll pretend that this unfortunate incident never happened. We can go on the way we were."

  As he tried to usher her away, she gave Dominick an agonized glance. His eyes were anguished, but he made didn't try to stop her. He would not want a woman who did not have the courage to fight for his love as he had fought for hers.

  She looked at her father and was sickened to see triumph in his eyes. He thought he'd won, and took more pleasure in defeating Dominick than he had ever shown in being a parent.

  Which of the men had demonstrated love by his actions? Dominick, not her father, who had systematically undermined all her friendships until her life was as narrow as that of a nun. And w
hich of the men did she truly love? Again, the answer was Dominick.

  Wrenching away from her father, she said in a shaking voice, "I owe you a daughter's duty, Papa, but if you force me to choose between you, I choose Dominick!"

  Unsteadily she turned to walk toward her lover. In two quick strides he closed the distance and swept her into his arms. "Dear God, Roxanne," he said hoarsely, his hand stroking her hair over and over. "I thought I'd lost you for good this time!"

  "I'm sorry I doubted you," she whispered.

  He hugged her more tightly. "Doubt is human. What matters is that you have the strength to follow your heart."

  As she hid her face in his shoulder, she knew she had made the right choice.

  But her father had not yet surrendered. “If you go with that man, you're no longer my daughter!" he shouted furiously. "I'll leave my fortune to the British Museum! See how long he stays once you're a pauper, and don't expect me to take you back."

  "I don't want or need Roxanne's inheritance, Sir William,” Dominick snapped. "Frankly, 1 think she would be better off if she never saw you again, but I shan't forbid her to communicate with you. It's up to you whether you have a relationship with her and any future grandchildren."

  Heart aching, Roxanne turned to look at her father. Though he'd not been the most affectionate of parents, he was all the family she had, and it would hurt bitterly if he refused to ever see her again.

  His face bore a desperate expression she'd never seen before. In a voice of raw anguish, he hissed, "Damnation, Roxanne, this man's father eloped with your mother!"

  Chapter 10

  As Sir William's shattering words hung in empty air, Dominick gasped and his embrace turned rigid. “Dear God! But if that's true, why did no one ever tell us?"

  Roxanne pulled away and pivoted to stare at her father, stammering, “It can’t, it can't, be true! My mother died when I was four. I scarcely remember her."

  Her father snarled, "The bitch didn't die, she ran away with her lover! Haven't you ever wondered why there was no grave?"

  "I... I never thought about it. I assumed Mama was buried in Buckinghamshire at her family's estate." Stunned, Roxanne searched her memory, trying to recall what had happened. She'd looked forward to the nursery visits of her mother, who had the same red hair she'd bequeathed to her daughter. Sometimes she was charming and playful. Other times she was sad, with reddened eyes she couldn't disguise.

  Then her mother stopped visiting. After what seemed like forever, Roxanne timidly asked when her mama would next come. The nursemaid said repressively that Lady Mayfield has passed on. There had been a strong implication of death, though the word had never been used. Roxanne had been too young to question further. And because she had lived such an isolated life, she had never heard any gossip to make her wonder.

  Turning to Dominick, she asked, "You didn't know either?"

  "I swear to God that I had no idea." He felt numb, and sure to the bone that this time the baronet was telling the truth. "One day my mother announced that my father had left us and would not be coming back. I didn't dare ask questions since the subject upset her terribly. She never mentioned him again except to tell me several years later that he had died in Naples. By then I had learned from a servant that my father had run off with a married woman, but I never knew her name."

  "Well, you know now!" Sir William spat out. “My wife died at the same time, of the same cholera that killed your father. Yes, I lied to both of you when I forced you to leave ten years ago, but breaking up the relationship spared your mother the horror I felt when you asked for Roxanne's hand. Your mother would have been as appalled by a marriage between you two as I was." His face worked. “I’ve done my best to protect my daughter. I'd rather die than lose her to another Chandler."

  Dominick stared at Roxanne, wondering what she was thinking. When she slipped away from him, he had the sick feeling that this time the baronet had won.

  But he misjudged her. Stopping in front of her father, she said quietly, "The only way you will lose me is if you refuse to accept Dominick as my husband. He is not his father any more than I am my mother, and he is just as much a victim of their selfishness as you and I. Now I understand why you tried to separate us, but we are not the same as our parents. Dominick and I are both single and free to love each other."

  With unexpected compassion for the older man, Dominick added, "Trying to deny our love will not change the past, Sir William. I'm sorry for what happened for all of our sakes, but I'll be damned if I will walk away from the only woman I've ever loved to pay for my father's crime."

  His breathing harsh, the baronet buried his face in his hands. Gently Roxanne said, "It can't be easy to stop feeling anger after so many years, but for my sake I hope you will try. I don't want to lose you, Papa." She gave Dominick a quick glance. "We'll be going on a long honeymoon. When we return, I hope you will receive us at Maybourne Towers."

  Sir William lowered his hands. His expression was haggard, but his eyes showed relief at having revealed his long-held secret. "Perhaps… by then I'll be able to. I don't want to lose you, either." With a flash of familiar belligerence, he said, “But if you make my daughter miserable, Chandler, I'll make you rue the day you were born!"

  Dominick wrapped a protective arm around Roxanne's shoulders. “If she's unhappy, it won't be for lack of trying on my part."

  After a hard look, the baronet gave a small nod, then turned and left the clearing. With a sweep of his arm he collected the men, who had been watching in fascination. A few minutes later hoof beats sounded as the would-be rescue party rode away.

  Dominick gave a long, exhausted sigh. "Life is stranger even than I imagined."

  Roxanne glanced up, her fox-brown eyes grave but serene. "It's not really such a coincidence. When we met, you said you were looking for that ruined Roman villa because your father had told you about it when you were a child. That is what brought you to Maybourne Towers. Perhaps the villa is what brought him to Maybourne and that's how he met my mother."

  He drew her close. "It was wickedly wrong for my father and your mother to elope. Yet . . . if he loved her as much as I love you, I can understand why he did it. From what your father just said, they were together until death did them part."

  "And if my mother loved him as I love you, I know why she left everything she possessed, including me, to go with him," Roxanne said softly. "I do love you, you know. I don't believe I mentioned that last night."

  "You didn't, but we'll have ample time to rectify the omission." A smile in his voice, he continued, "Shall I take you to paradise for our honeymoon?"

  "I'd like to see your islands, my love, but there's no need to travel that far." She burrowed into his arms with a sigh of pure joy. "I’ve found paradise right here."

  Finis

  The Wedding of the Century

  Chapter 1

  Swindon Palace

  Spring 1885

  After two weeks of dizzying social activity in London, a visit to the English countryside was an enchanting change of pace. Nature had cooperated by blessing the garden party with flawless weather. Puffs of white cloud drifted through a deep blue sky, the grass and trees were impossibly green, and the famous Swindon gardens were in glorious flower.

  Yet the grounds were not half so splendid as the guests, who were the cream of British society. All of the men were aristocratically handsome and all of the women graceful and exquisitely dressed. At least, that was how it seemed to Miss Sarah Katherine Vangelder, of the New York Vangelders. As she surveyed her surroundings, she gave a laugh of pure delight.

  The woman beside her said, “Don’t look so rapturous, Sunny. It simply isn’t done.”

  Sunny gave her godmother a teasing glance. “Is this the Katie Schmidt of San Francisco who scandalized English society by performing Comanche riding stunts in Hyde Park?”

  A smile tugged at the older woman’s lips. “It most certainly is not,” she said in a voice that no longer held any trac
e of American accent. “I am now Katherine Schmidt Worthington, Countess of Westron, a very proper chaperon for her exceedingly well-brought-up young American goddaughter.”

  “I thought that we American girls were admired for our freshness and directness.” A hint of dryness entered Sunny’s voice. “And our fortunes, of course.”

  “The very best matches require impeccable manners as well as money, my dear. If you wish to become a duchess, you must be above reproach.”

  Sunny sighed. “And if I don’t wish to become a duchess?”

  “Your mother has spent twenty years grooming you to be worthy of the highest station,” Lady Westron replied. “It would be a pity to waste that.”

  “Yes, Aunt Katie,” Sunny said meekly. “If I’m very, very impeccable, may I view the rest of the gardens later?”

  “Yes, but not until you’ve met everyone worth meeting. Business before pleasure, my dear.” Katie began guiding her charge through the crowd, stopping and making occasional introductions.

  Knowing that she was being judged, Sunny smiled and talked with the utmost propriety. She even managed not to look too excited, until she was introduced to the Honorable Paul Curzon.

  Tall, blond and stunningly handsome, Curzon was enough to make any woman gape. After bowing over her hand, he said, “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Vangelder. Are you newly arrived in England?” His question was accompanied by a dazzling smile.

  If it hadn’t been for her rigorous social training, Sunny would have gaped at him like a raw country girl. Instead, she managed to say lightly, “I’ve been in London for the last fortnight. Before that, we were traveling on the Continent.”

  “If you’d like to visit the Houses of Parliament, Miss Vangelder, I’d be delighted to escort you. I’m a member.” Curzon gave a deprecatory shrug. “Only a backbencher, but I can show you what goes on behind the scenes and treat you to tea on the terrace. You might find it amusing.”