Chapter Thirty-Five
Zeke’s lungs burned like he breathed fire. He hadn’t run this hard, this far, since his days at university. Why hadn’t he wanted to venture into town on horseback? Something about covering better ground by foot. Ha.
He pressed on, full tilt, keeping the gray stone church in his sights like a lodestar. If he was too late, even by a minute, James might decide to rid himself of both Hastings.
He couldn’t be too late.
One final switchback, and at last he pounded up the church steps. He grasped the cold metal handle of the massive oak door and threw it open.
Cool, musty air greeted him. He moved inside the dark stained narthex and the heavy door swung closed behind him, engulfing him in deep quiet. Swallowing back the sick feeling in his gut, he rounded the partitioned wall.
Scores of empty wooden pews flanked either side of a narrow center aisle, leading toward a lighted nave—and Kitty. She stood beside James before the raised altar, facing a robed priest.
She was alive, thank God. The rest he could handle.
“Stop!” he yelled, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings of the church.
Three sets of eyes turned toward him as he charged down the aisle.
“Father, this woman is being coerced,” Zeke told the officiator, moving down the aisle. He shifted his focus to James. “Move away from her, James.” He held out his arm, beckoning Kitty. “Come away from him, love.”
Ashen-faced, Kitty stared back at him with sorrow-filled eyes.
Seemingly at a loss for words, the priest glanced between Kitty, James, and Zeke.
Garrick suffered no such fate. “You have no business here, Thurgood. The lady’s made her choice. She neither wants nor needs your interference. She’s agreed to marry me of her own volition. Ask her.”
Zeke skidded to halt, his gaze settling on Kitty.
He could see she’d been crying. More disturbing was the a silent plea for understanding that hung in the air between them as surely as if she’d spoken the words aloud. She intended to go through with it.
The hell she would. “Kitty, no—”
“If you please.” The priest, looking gravely displeased, held up a hand. “Lady Hastings, are you being coerced into accepting Lord James as your husband?”
Kitty turned to the priest. “No.”
Zeke barely heard her hushed response.
She looked at him. “I’m sorry, Zeke. I have to. Garrick’s given me no choice.”
Zeke edged closer to the small throng at the altar. “No, you don’t. The title James dangled before your brother in exchange for your hand is nothing but a fabrication. Collin still holds sole claim to the barony.”
“I’m losing patience, Kitty. Tell your lover to leave. Now.” James shifted, placing himself between Kitty and Zeke. He reached for her arm.
Stumbling back, she evaded his grasp. “Why would he lie? To what end?”
Zeke stifled a frustrated curse. He needed Kitty safely away from James. But in typical Kitty fashion, she required the facts or she wasn’t going anywhere. Stubborn, loyal, beautiful fool.
He took a fortifying breath. “His original plan was to keep everyone in the dark long enough to marry you. Once your brother returned from the dead, however, James adjusted said plan to include killing off your brother, then marrying you, or marrying you, then killing off your brother. Either way, marriage to you, the sole survivor of your line, was key from the start, because it’s the only way he’d ever accede to the Maidstone title. Isn’t that right, James?”
Kitty lifted her hand to her throat. “He told me he’d kill Collin if I didn’t marry him.”
Zeke didn’t have the heart to tell her James may well have succeeded in carrying out that particular threat.
The priest lifted his hands, palms up. “Perhaps we should continue after the three of you have resolved matters.”
“There’s no resolution needed, Father. We’re ready to proceed,” James gritted out, the veins in his neck protruding. He grabbed her arm, anchoring her in place. “Kitty, remember what I told you.”
