She had to appeal to his pride and somehow make him understand that he’d made a terrible mistake.
“This isn’t the sort of wedding a woman wants,” she said. “We should stop for the night somewhere.”
Which would give her family the chance to find her.
“Your father would murder me for this,” Charles remarked. It was the first sensible thing he’d said.
“And that is why we should turn back now. If you can bring me home before he knows I’m gone—”
“It’s too late for that.” He appeared glum, and he added, “We’ll be married just after we cross the border into Scotland.”
Amelia decided it was time to be frank and hope that he would be reasonable. “As I said before, I don’t want to marry you anymore, Lord Lisford.”
“But you did once,” he said. “I was certain of it.”
Before I knew who you really were, Amelia thought. “If you force me into marriage, you’ll get no dowry,” she said. “If you were trying to gain wealth, it will bring you nothing at all.” She asserted her final point. “If you bring me back now, I promise you, we can make amends.”
But the viscount had gone silent, his gaze fixed on the outside. He ignored her pleas, and Amelia realized that she would have to wait until they stopped.
She closed her eyes, praying that someone would rescue her. In her mind, she envisioned Lord Castledon riding hard, intercepting the coach. He would throw open the door to the carriage and pull her into his strong arms. Her fantasy played out, giving her a thread of hope to cling to.
“Would you like to sit beside me?” the viscount offered. “The night air is cold.” She wasn’t certain if it was his attempt to be courteous or whether he intended to accost her.
“If I move, I’ll likely be sick all over you,” Amelia responded. It was partly the truth, but she didn’t want Lord Lisford anywhere near her.
He grimaced, and she closed her eyes again. Though she was frightened, she had to keep her wits together and find a way out of this mess. Thankfully, the viscount had not laid a hand upon her—possibly because she’d struck him hard the last time he’d attempted to kiss her.
She believed this was about money, more than all else. It was the move of a desperately foolish man, not a villain. As she leaned against the side of the coach, she wondered if anyone was coming to save her.
If not, she would simply have to rescue herself.
Chapter Seven
David hadn’t planned on driving in the middle of the night toward Scotland, of all places. After confirming with several sources that the viscount had been traveling north, he’d paid his driver a large sum to follow the main road. Margaret had promised that she and Cain Sinclair would take an alternate path, so that regardless of which way the viscount had gone, one of them would intercept Amelia.
He hoped to God that the viscount hadn’t hurt Amelia. After what had happened the last time when she had struck out at Lisford, David questioned whether the man had revenge in mind. The thought of her being a victim made him want to tear Lisford apart.
Amelia was an innocent. Impulsive, talkative, and generous to a fault, she didn’t deserve a fate like this—much less being forced into marriage to such a man.
Margaret’s suggestion, thathemarry Amelia, weighed upon his mind. It was a solution, yes, but one he didn’t like.
She would brighten your days, he could almost imagine Katherine saying.Christine would grow to love her.
But he didn’t want a wife like Amelia, someone who would drag him out of his solitary existence. He liked being alone, damn it. Heliked sleeping alone, without a woman to interfere with his habits. He wanted a wife who would fade into the background, someone who could make herself happy by mothering Christine. Amelia would never do such a thing. She would badger him mercilessly.
And worst of all, he could easily imagine himself sharing her bed. He could picture her gold hair spilling over bare shoulders, her body lithe and inviting. He strongly suspected Amelia would drive him over the edge, until he could hardly remember the sweetness of Katherine’s arms.
She’s no good for me, he told his wife’s ghost.
She needs you, his conscience reminded him.Perhaps now more than ever.
The hours stretched onward, and he tormented himself with thoughts of Amelia weeping. Or worse, being violated.
The rage built up inside him until he longed to kill the viscount. He’d long ago believed that Lisford had straw for brains, but he’d never imagined the man would go this far. Idiocy didn’t begin to cover this foolhardy act.
His fists were clenched, and God above, he hoped they would reach Amelia in time. It didn’t seem possible that they could have gotten too far.
They stopped to change horses, and David went to sit with his driver. He felt certain that they were close now, and at any moment they would find Amelia and the viscount.
