Authors: Elizabeth Thornton
"I have taken the precaution of procuring a special license," Avery went on as if Harriet had not spoken. "Long engagements are not to my liking and it is almost a twelvemonth since I first offered for you."
"That
engagement was broken within weeks of its making," said Harriet with a disdainful shrug of her lovely shoulders.
"Yes," responded Avery in a thoughtful tone. "That is precisely my meaning. Our betrothals last on average scarce a month. If we marry by special license within the week, we shall break this deplorable habit you seem to have acquired of returning my ring with irritating regularity." Avery smiled in a self-conscious, deprecating way and Harriet's bones melted.
"I cannot return what I do not have, my lord," she replied in what she hoped were depressing accents. "I can scarce remember what your betrothal ring looks like. It has been in your possession more often than it has been in mine."
Lord Avery smiled wryly.
"Only for safekeeping, my love.
As soon as we are wed, I shall give it back to you. But I have no desire to become engaged to you again. There has been enough ill talk of our on-off-again betrothal to last me a lifetime. You have made me a laughingstock." As soon as the words were out, Avery realized his mistake and hastened to forestall the angry retort which he knew was hovering on Harriet's parted lips. He threw up his hands. "It's no use, Harriet! I capitulate! Total surrender! What more can I say?" He laughed weakly and captured her hand. "Life is unbearably flat without you, my dear. I was a fool to try to change you—to erase those very qualities which endeared you to me in the first place. Harriet," he went on in desperate earnest, "I no longer wish to tame you. I admire you just the way you are. It was a dashing out-and-outer who captured my jaded heart. If you consent to marry me, I promise not to make you over into a conformable wife."
Harriet gazed up at him, a frown of perplexity wrinkling
her brow. "Do you mean to say that if I marry you, you will permit me to take snuff and smoke cigars and drink wine and so on?"
"
Mmm
," said Avery, drawing her closer by the simple expedient of slipping his arm round her shoulders and tightening his grip. "Within limits, my love," he said a trifle hoarsely. "I may even go so far as to permit you to kiss me in public."
Harriet's lips parted in mute incredulity as Avery's head bent to capture her unresisting lips. When he drew away, Harriet's mouth formed a round O. The Viscount searched her face anxiously. It was the first time he had ever dared take such liberties with her.
"Avery," Harriet managed on a tremulous breath, "did you feel it?"
Neither of them paid the slightest attention to the occasional strollers who were casting curious and outraged glances in their direction.
"What did you feel, my love?" asked Avery, a light leaping into his eyes. Harriet, he observed with the deepest gratification, lay softly panting in his arms. Without waiting for her answer, he pressed her closer and kissed her again. When he drew away, Harriet's eyes were round with wonder.
"Oh Avery," she sighed when she had recovered her breath, "you should have kissed me long since. I never knew, my dear." When he would have kissed her again, she protested and struggled free of his arms. "You are every bit as bad as my cousin Briony," she expostulated with a smile in her eyes. "It is impossible for me to go against convention when I have to keep you two originals in line. Somebody has to have a sense of what is fitting in this family." She laughed ruefully and reached a finger up to touch his lips in a playful gesture. Avery's hand closed over her wrist.
"Harriet, let's get married right away. Here in Bath, if you like, or in London, or at my mother's place in Kent. All these misunderstandings which have plagued us from the beginning of our courtship would soon be resolved if I could only take you into my arms. I am wearied of being your escort, or your dancing partner, or even your friend. Oh my darling girl," he went on more passionately, "I would be so much more to you, if you will let me."
Harriet gave a shaky laugh as she tried to school her emotions into a semblance of composure. This impetuous, amorous Avery was a new experience for her, and his ardent words and gestures were upsetting her equilibrium, sending shivers of anticipation along her spine. She had always admired him, loved him even, in a controlled sort of way. But his kisses had unleashed a strange longing that left her half afraid. "Please marry me soon, Avery," she said with affecting simplicity.
After a moment of stunned silence, Avery threw back his head and hooted with laughter. It had been that simple! Gudgeon that he was not to have taken advantage of her sooner! Damn propriety and the insane assumption that a gently bred girl would be revolted by a show of passion! At last he had awakened her. Now, when he caught her eye, she would know what he was thinking. When at last he came to himself, he caught her in his arms and said gaily, "Tell me where and when and it will be accomplished, my adorable Harriet."
"Would next week be too soon?" she asked, looking shyly into his shining eyes.
Avery chortled. "Not soon enough for my part, my love, and I daresay I can talk your father round."
A thought suddenly occurred to Harriet. "Avery," she began in a wheedling voice which his lordship deeply mistrusted, "what of your mother? She rarely leaves your estate in Kent. Oughtn't we to pay her a bridal visit? I don't mean right away," she went on in a rush when she saw Avery's brow pucker in a frown.
"But in a week or two.
To do anything less would be shockingly uncivil!"
"Ah yes. And it just so
happens
that Ravensworth's estate
is in the same county. No doubt you will wish to spend a day or two in
Briony's
company?'
"Could we, Avery?' she asked persuasively
. "
I know that Briony is not altogether happy. If I could just see her and speak to her, it would set my mind at rest. She particularly asked me to come, and I can't just turn my back on her. We have been too close for that."
Lord Avery shuddered to think what Ravensworth's reaction would be if the two cousins should meet up again so soon after parting. He would not welcome meddling in his dealings with Briony, of that Avery was certain.
"Harriet, my love," Avery coaxed, "don't you think a visit to Briony is ill advised at the present moment? In a month or two, I would not hesitate to endorse your suggestion." He chose his next words with care. "The two of you are very close, I know, closer even than sisters. But when a woman becomes a wife, that sort of intimacy belongs more properly to her husband." He lifted her chin with the back of his hand and looked deeply into her eyes. "I confess that I have found myself many times jealous of Briony and the exclusiveness of your relationship. When we marry, Harriet," he went on a little wistfully, "I would wish to be the object of your devotion and your loyalty."
"You shall be, I promise," Harriet answered with feeling. "But don't you see
,
I gave Briony my word? I must see her, just once more. I don't understand the nature of this alliance with Ravensworth, but I know that Briony desperately needs a friend. Trust me in this, Avery. I swear I won't come between them, if that is what troubles you." She waited anxiously for his reply.
"What can I say?' he asked with a resigned smile
. "
I daresay it would be unfriendly in us not to visit when we are in the neighborhood. And they ought to be among the first to know of our nuptials. But Harriet, will you be advised by me if I deem it expedient to withdraw? Ravensworth has the devil's own temper, and if he should venture to unleash it
against you, I am afraid that our longstanding friendship would be broken forever. And I would miss him," he added ruefully.
Harriet promised solemnly to abide by her betrothed's decisions in all matters relating to their projected visit. Avery should have been reassured, but he was left with the melancholy conviction that their presence at Ravensworth's estate was courting disaster.
Toward evening of the second day of their journey into Kent, Ravensworth's carriage rolled into a deep rut in the road and the wheel on the right front side wobbled precariously. At that moment, his lordship was reclining against the squabs, cushioning a sleeping Briony against his shoulder. The carriage shuddered to a sudden standstill and lurched dangerously, tipping the occupants from their comfortable perch. Briony was jolted awake and Ravensworth, immediately alert to their perilous position, threw open the coach door and jumped down onto the roadway, dragging his protesting bride with him. He set Briony away from him with a few brusque words and went to inspect the damage, shouting curt orders to the irresolute outriders and coachmen. Briony stood in some confusion, endeavoring to gather her reeling wits.
The frantic grooms were attempting to unhitch the horses when the black clouds overhead were illuminated by a shaft of lightning which streaked across the sky. The vibrations of the ensuing roll of thunder shook the ground beneath them. Briony started violently and cowered closer to the tottering carriage.
The skies opened and the sudden deluge of driving rain lashed man and beast mercilessly. Briony was half conscious
of Ravensworth hurling some command at her as he tended to the horses but a second flash of lightning and the almost simultaneous crack of thunder muffled his words. Panic engulfed her. She knew that her reaction was beyond all reason but she was helpless to control it. She could taste the same dry terror in her mouth as she had experienced when she had watched her parents drown. She felt as if she were reliving the old nightmare of impending doom. With shaking fingers, she covered her ears to stifle the terrifying noise of the storm, heedless that her cloak had slipped from her shoulders to lie at her feet in a sodden heap.
It was the third peal of thunder which had her running. As the ground trembled beneath her, a thin scream was forced from her lips and she bolted in blind panic, stumbling and
falling
her length as she tried to conceal herself in the thick underbrush at the side of the road. Wicked thorns tore at her hands and face but Briony disregarded them, scarcely aware of them. She wanted only to find some sanctuary from her unreasoning fears.
She was caught from behind and lifted, clawing and lashing out in her terror, to lie against the breadth of Ravensworth's chest. She felt the warmth of his body against her and clung to him with desperate strength, brokenly murmuring his name against his throat. In one easy movement, he enveloped her in the voluminous folds of his traveling cloak, protecting them both from the relentless rain. His soothing words washed over her, crooning words of comfort as if he were speaking to a frightened child. Her dry, wracking sobs gave way to tears as some of the hysteria left her. The intelligence that they must make for the inn ahead where their rooms were bespoken registered vaguely in her frozen mind. But when Ravensworth gave her into the arms of his waiting groom till he should mount one of the horses, Briony moaned her protest and struggled to keep hold of him. She was lifted before him into the saddle and turned her face into his shoulder, her arms firmly encircling his waist.
By the time they reached the coaching inn, the storm had spent itself and Briony lay impassive in Ravensworth's arms. When he tried to set her down, however, she clutched at him with renewed tenacity and had to be prized free of his arms. Then he lifted her high against his chest and carried her to their chamber. Once the door was shut against intruders, Ravensworth stripped
Briony's
dripping garments from her back and toweled her dry before a blazing fire. That Briony made not the slightest protest to such liberties from a husband who had as yet to exercise his rights over her troubled Ravensworth more than he cared to admit. He found a nightdress in her valise and drew it gently over her head and finally draped the coverlet from the bed around her shoulders. Then he settled himself in a chair flanking the fireplace, cradling the trembling girl in his arms.
As he gently stroked her hair, he could feel her begin to relax against him. He spoke soft, reassuring words of comfort against her eyes. It was this and the sense of deliverance from some dread catastrophe which unleashed a flood of therapeutic tears. Coaxed by his softly spoken questioning, Briony, in slow, halting sentences, began to stammer out the tragic sequence of events which she had witnessed on that never-to-be-forgotten day when her parents had been swept to their watery grave in the turbulent waters of Lake Windermere. Ravensworth listened silently as she described her feelings of helplessness as she had been forced to watch, powerless to lift a finger to save the two people she had loved best in the world. When she came to the end of her story, Briony felt strangely comforted. The steady beat of Ravensworth's heart at her breast was like a drug dulling the raw endings of her
overstrung
nerves. Ravensworth's low baritone continued its soothing effect as he stroked her hair, and after a few shuddering sighs, Briony succumbed to sleep in the shield of his sheltering arms.
For a long time afterward, Ravensworth remained motionless, a frown of concentration puckering his dark brows as he gazed at the softly breathing girl. She stirred and his arms tightened protectively around her. His expression hardened as his eyes continued to drink her in. How could he have thought to coerce this defenseless child into becoming his reluctant bride?