The Vengeful Bridegroom. Kit DonnerЧитать онлайн книгу.
a delay. “Mr. Brelford, I believe it would be best to wait for my brother to straighten this matter out. Why don’t you and Miss Montazy retire to the parlor while I change into more appropriate attire?”
She turned to Millie, who was watching the proceedings wide-eyed. “Millie, would you bring some lemonade to the parlor?”
“No time to waste. Thank you, Millie,” Mr. Brelford told the maid firmly. “I’ll have one of the coachmen return for Miss Colgate’s trunk.” Miss Montazy stepped toward the door as Mr. Brelford looked at Madelene expectantly.
“No, wait.” Madelene touched her sham betrothed’s arm. Vanity, thy name is woman, she thought. “I cannot wear this dress to be married in! I have a lovely white gown I thought—”
Mr. Brelford perused her clothing. “Nothing wrong with your attire. We must go. Time is of the essence.”
Married in red! It simply wasn’t done, she thought in horror. But then she realized since no one was to know of their marriage until afterward, she doubted anyone would learn of her entirely improper wedding garments.
Mr. Brelford placed his arm at her back to escort her out the door.
“Mr. Brelford, you may, perhaps, be accustomed to others obeying you without question. I happen to not be someone so easily cozened. I’m sure you can appreciate how much it would mean for me to have my brother at my wedding. He’s the only family I have left, and I believe it best to wait for him. I do not think he will be long.” Of course, she had no idea where Matthew could be. But it might not be too late.
She tried to see behind his spectacles and bushy eyebrows in anticipation of his reaction.
His jaw moved slightly. “I see. No willingness to go to the slaughter, eh? Must I remind you that you have chosen your path, as has your brother, and now it is time to take it? I will not stand for any further shilly-shallying. You are wasting my time.”
Madelene drew back her shoulders in defiance. She was unaccustomed to anyone treating her without deference, and he wasn’t her husband, yet.
“No.” She hoped she could conduct a defense over the deafening sound of her own heartbeat. “Mr. Brelford, I plan to tarry in the parlor for my brother. If you will not wait with me, we will join you later. What church is it again? We will meet you there, as soon as opportunity allows.” She clasped her shaking hands and walked toward the parlor, assuming her guests would follow her.
Once seated in a comfortable chair, she looked up to find Mr. Brelford standing near the door. “Please, sit down. And ask Miss Montazy to join us. We should really try to make this as pleasant as can be, especially since, we are, will be, ah, married.” She choked slightly on that last word before attempting a smile, which faded when she noticed the dark look he gave her as he leaned against the doorjamb.
“Miss Colgate, I have advised you that I cannot delay. I have a schedule to keep.”
With raised eyebrows, she returned, “You mention a schedule as if you are driving the mail coach. I do not understand your urgency, nor do I care to. Let us relax and become better acquainted.” This did draw a brief smile from him, one she eagerly matched, until she saw him walk straight toward her. Her smile and courage quickly deserted her.
“While I can certainly appreciate your wit, my schedule has only to do with one passenger, which would be you.”
Her eyes widened as she watched him draw closer. “Don’t come any closer. There is no need to bully—” Before she knew it, he had swept her up into his arms and headed for the door. She even tried to grab the doorjamb as they walked through the doorway, but her strength was no match for his determination. Before Mr. Brelford strode out the door with Madelene squirming in his arms, Millie grabbed Madelene’s pelisse, the bonnet she had dropped, and reticule, and threw it up on top of her.
As he carried her down the steps toward the carriage, she sputtered and spewed in his arms, very strong and brawny arms.
No escape. And he left her with no pride.
“Please, put me down. I can walk of my own accord,” she demanded. This was most improper, but she would have no contradiction from the will of her soon-to-be-bridegroom, she realized.
At the carriage, Miss Montazy looked out the window while a footman held the door open for Madelene and her kidnapper. Mr. Brelford lifted Madelene into the carriage and dropped her on the squabs before climbing in after her. He placed his arm around her, probably concerned, given the chance, she might bolt.
With the wind knocked out of her sails, she fidgeted with the strings of her reticule on the way to a church, the name of which she had no notion. This stranger had caught her off guard, tossed her emotions into a whirlwind from which, it appeared, there was no alternative but to marry the man. She bit her lip while staring out the window as the carriage jerked into motion. She could only hope she had remembered to pack everything for a month’s stay in the country.
Tears formed as she looked back at 21 Sullivan Court, the Georgian town house, and the only home she had known. What would Matthew do without her? He would be directionless without her or their father.
Madelene drew up her shoulders and shored up her confidence. She would go to the altar willingly, but she didn’t have to like it. She would consider it a brief sojourn in the country until she returned, and life could resume as she knew it.
She had enough mettle in her to get through this unfortunate event and prayed the days would pass quickly. For some reason, even knowing she was helping her brother did little to bring solace to her heart.
“Millie! You must know where they have gone!” Matthew pleaded with the young woman who sat in the kitchen crying into her apron.
“But I don’t, sir. I don’t know the name of the church. I only heard they was to be married today.” Her pasty complexion was pinked with raw tears.
Matthew braced his hand against the doorjamb. “You say he told you his name was Leonard Brelford?” He shook his head in disbelief.
“Aye, sir, that is what ’e done says. And his cousin was with ’im too. ’er name was Miss Caroline sumthin’.”
He yelled, “Can you not tell me anything that might help?”
Millie only cried louder and harder. “I don’t know nothin’. It all ’appened so fast.” Her Cockney was more pronounced when she was anxious and had displeased him.
Matthew rubbed his face and wandered away from the kitchen to the parlor. Seated on the settee, he moaned into his hands. All of his plans for naught. While he had been making final preparations with the authentic Brelford, some stranger, calling himself Brelford, had swooped up his sister and taken her somewhere in London, or anywhere in England, or the seas, for that matter.
This stranger must have learned of their plan and spirited his sister away. That could be the only possibility. But why? And was this stranger actually going to marry his sister? Or just ensure the wager would end with his sister unmarried? He was sure to lose everything by the end of day tomorrow.
His only recourse was to find Madelene immediately, for she had to marry the real Brelford, unless. Unless. The more he thought on it, it could just be possible that there was one other person who had placed a bet Madelene would be married, and ensured it happened. There was more blunt to be had betting Madelene would marry in three days than not. He determined to go to White’s to search for answers.
The dagger. He had forgotten about the dagger. Matthew dashed upstairs and burst into Madelene’s bedchamber.
It was gone. Madelene’s trunk where he had hidden the valuable dagger was missing, along with his sister. No one knew he had hidden the object in her trunk but him.
Time was now his foe. He had to get the dagger back before anyone found it. Madelene would have no understanding of its value or importance because he had only mentioned the dagger in passing without any of the details.
Matthew had stolen the