The Vengeful Bridegroom. Kit DonnerЧитать онлайн книгу.
Brelford, I think I’ll retire. No need to accompany me, I’m sure Great George or Mary will show me the way. Have a restful sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning,” she told him, her words hedged in exhaustion. When she rose to quit the room, Gabriel also stood.
“Mrs. Brelford, I’ll accompany you. We are, after all, sharing the same room as man and wife.”
“Oh, but I thought. You see.” She halted in obvious perplexity. A frown marred her lovely brow. “That is, well, this is quite impossible. My brother—”
“Your brother isn’t here. Surely you understood the vows you recited earlier today?” He cocked his head at her, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t wish for me to heave you over my shoulder and carry you up to our room?” He almost smiled at the thought of her reaction or the amusement it would bring him.
“I should think not.” A look of indignation blew past. She sighed. “I guess I have made my bed,” she finished in resignation.
Interesting, she didn’t finish the thought. He watched her straighten her shoulders, turn toward the door, and begin climbing the rickety wooden stairs.
He admired her resolve. He also admired her backside, as her traveling gown clung to her hips and other places while she preceded him. Steady, he told himself.
At the top of the landing, outside their room, Mary greeted them and curtsied before hurrying past them and down the stairs.
His new bride hesitated before entering the bedchamber, warmed from the fire Mary had started for them. Few pieces of furniture adorned the room other than a large tester bed with a frayed blue counterpane and a table and chair in the corner of the room. Dull white curtains covered the windows.
When Gabriel entered the room, he noticed her trunk and his carpet bag near the bed before throwing his greatcoat over the chair. He turned to look at Madelene, wondering what she was thinking and feeling. And why it should matter to him. This game he had set in motion had many moves yet to make.
She stood with her back to him, warming herself at the fireplace.
“Mrs. Brelford, I’m going to return to the common room to discuss our travel arrangements for the morning with Great George. I would suggest using that time to prepare for bed,” he instructed her before departing the room.
“Mr. Brelford—” She held up a hand to stop him.
At the door, he turned to look at her. “Yes? Is there something amiss? Do you need something?” Gabriel couldn’t wait to be rid of the moniker not his own, hoping annoyance did not show in his voice.
“No, it’s of no consequence,” she told him, shaking her head. He walked out and closed the door. His boots thumped down the stairs.
Madelene slowly sank down on the floor next to the fireplace, hoping the warmth might seep into her bones and spirit. She still could not believe she was actually here, in an unfamiliar village, married to a stranger. It was an impossible position. If only her father could have saved her from this mockery of a marriage. Matthew should never have placed her in this situation.
Even knowing it was only for a short time did little to stem her resentment. She now had a husband to obey, which did not suit for a moment. Until she could discover another alternative, she’d have to endure these events thrust upon her. Somehow, she’d find the will and pray the month would pass quickly.
Frustration poured through her; she had to do something. When she looked down at her red walking dress, she suddenly despised it. She tore off the bodice and skirt and shoved them into the fire, wanting to burn the evidence of her wedding dress. Why couldn’t this all be a terrible dream?
Destroying her wedding dress would do naught to the marriage itself, but she felt a little better watching the cloth catch fire.
Until smoke began to billow out from the fireplace and suffuse their bedchamber. Clad in only a white short-sleeved shift, fine lawn tuckers, knee-high silk stockings, and shoes, and overtaken with fits of coughing, she tried to pull the garments out of the flames.
To no avail. Smoke quickly filled the room, and realizing she couldn’t stop the conflagration, she ran toward the door and jerked it open, bumping right into her husband.
Chapter Four
Gabriel pulled Madelene out onto the landing and raced inside to contain the smoke and flames, Great George not far behind him. Together, using the bed counterpane and water from the washbasin, they smothered the flames in minutes. Although the fire and smoke caused little damage, the bedchamber would be uninhabitable until the smoke had dissipated. Once reassured all embers were dashed, Gabriel opened the two small windows and followed Great George down the stairs.
He found Madelene sitting on a bench with Mary in the common room. His wife clutched a draught, unable to keep from coughing, almost doubled over from a spell. A rough woolen blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders hid her disheveled state of undress.
His mouth grim, Gabriel stood on the opposite side of the table and leaned toward Madelene. “Was marriage to me so intolerable that you wanted to kill yourself, or are you simply a fool?” He bit his words out.
Madelene blinked at him and frowned. “Is there another choice?”
Surprised, Gabriel stepped back, and his anger at her subsided, slightly. “None. Your wedding attire has effectively gone up in smoke, which I can only assume was your intention and not burning the inn to the ground.”
She didn’t answer him immediately, taking a long swallow of what he hoped was weak ale.
He continued, his voice less stern. “I’ll obviously have to watch you more closely, to avoid any further disasters.”
When confident Madelene had overcome the worst of the smoke inhalation, Gabriel sought Great George to request bath water for his wife to remove the effects of the smoke, ignoring his own untidy combination of perspiration and soot.
The innkeeper and Mary went to fetch the tub and water in the kitchen while Gabriel sat down next to Madelene, still concerned over her condition.
“Madelene, please assure me that you are suffering no ill effects that a bath and sleep won’t cure,” he requested, staring into her dazed dark blue eyes.
She nodded slowly, obviously still bewildered about what had transpired. “I’ll be fine. It all happened so quickly. I had no idea.”
Removing a fine white handkerchief from his pocket, he started to wipe the soot smudges from her forehead, then thrust the handkerchief in her hand. He must remember to show no signs of kindness in order to achieve his goal. “If you promise to stay put for a few minutes, I’ll remove our baggage from the room so you might find something to wear.”
When he soon returned to the common room carrying the red-ribboned bonnet and matching gloves saved from the fire, he overheard Mary inform Madelene her bath was ready in the kitchen, where she would not be disturbed.
Showing Madelene the remainder of her bridal costume, he said wryly, “Apparently, you were unable to destroy all evidence of your marriage garments.”
Shrugging, she replied, “Perhaps Mary would like them, for I have no further use of them.”
Mary’s sad little face broke into a smile. “Oh really, miss! That would be ever so lovely! I mean, missus,” she exclaimed and hurried over to touch her new belongings. “I’ve never had nothing this nice before. Oh to be sure, I thank you, miss, and you, too, Mr. Brelford!” Grasping her bonnet and gloves to her chest, the little maid scurried from the room with her treasures.
Madelene rose unsteadily and found her husband’s hand on her elbow. Too tired to pull away, she let him lead her to the kitchen where her bath awaited. The smell of cheap wine and old fish hung in the air. She noticed while sinking into the nearest chair that Mary had left clean towels for her.
Unfortunately, her husband showed no interest in vacating the little