His lips were on her throat, sucking her, tasting her, when the door to the drawing room swung open.
“I could have sworn I saw them come in here,” came a female voice.
Ewan immediately dropped Thea’s skirts and stepped away from her, but not before Lady Hepplewhite and her daughter saw them. The ladies’ eyes were round as carriage wheels and in just a moment’s time, the expression on Lady Hepplewhite’s face turned from aghast shock to unmitigated glee.
“Oh, my dear,” Lady Hepplewhite said to her daughter, pushing the girl back out the door, “do close your eyes. It seems as if we’ve just stumbled upon Lord Clayton and Lady Theodora in amostcompromising position.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Two hours later, Thea sat in her bedchamber atop her bed, her hair disheveled, her ballgown wrinkled, and the mistletoe that had once rested in her coiffure, thrown to the floor. She stared at the offended little flower as if it were responsible for her trouble.
What in heaven’s name had she been thinking? Yes, Ewan had come into the sitting room, and yes, she should have insisted they both leave immediately, but she’d been the one to grab his wrist and worse, she’d been the one who didn’t push him away when he kissed her. Not only did she fail to push him away, she leaned up on tiptoes for heaven’s sake. Tiptoes weren’t employed by accident!
She’d wrapped her foolish arms around his blasted neck and lifted herself up in order to kiss him more soundly for the love of all that was holy. And if that wasn’t reckless enough, she hadn’t just allowed him to pull up her skirts and touch her, she’dwelcomedit. There was no doubt about it. She was fully one half to blame for the ensuing chaos.
Lady Hepplewhite had wasted no time in retreating from the room with her daughter in tow and spreading the tale of what she’d witnessed all across the ballroom. Thea had waited for the lady to go before she’d run from the room and up the back staircase to her bedchamber. She’d asked Maggie to go listen at doors to find out what was happening.
“Lord Clayton has been in your father’s study this entire time and your father is on the way up here,” Maggie had reported moments earlier before slipping away into the adjoining room to give Thea privacy for the reckoning with her father.
This time there was no knock. Her father opened her bedchamber door with such force it bounced against the far wall. Thea winced.
He stalked into the room, pure anger on his face. “Theodora,” his voice boomed. “I refuse to argue or negotiate with you. I’ve just come from the study where Lord Clayton and I have signed the marriage contract. The wedding will take place directly after Twelfth Night. Prepare yourself to marry. I don’t care if I have to lock you in this room until then.”
He glared at her, no doubt ready for her to argue with him, to refuse. But Thea knew what she’d done. She no longer had the refuge of righteousness or anger. She’d been a full party to this. And she was about to ruin her own life and Clayton’s as a result.
“Very well, Father,” she replied, kicking at the discarded mistletoe with her stockinged foot. She forced herself to lift her head and meet her father’s disapproving stare.
Her father narrowed his eyes on her, clearly not trusting her display of acquiescence. “You agree?”
“Yes.” She nodded slowly. “I know what I’ve done, and I am ready to accept the consequences.”
She couldn’t muster much sympathy for Clayton this time, however, he had kissed her. She had warned him that they should leave the room. Obviously, they were attracted to each other. That was something. It might not be enough to base a marriage upon, but at least they would have that.
But she couldn’t stop hearing her mother’s words in her head. She was going to marry a man who didn’t love her. She felt as if she would retch.
“Very well,” Father retorted, obviously willing to leave well enough alone. “I shall inform Maggie that you should prepare yourtrousseau. Tomorrow we can discuss the details of the marriage contract.”
“Fine,” Thea replied, staring unseeing at the wall.
Father retreated quickly from the room, leaving Thea to fall back upon the bed and curl into a small ball. Oh, why had Ewan come here tonight? He’d said he had an important question to ask her. He’d asked her why she’d refused to marry him. Could it be that his pride was hurt? She’d told him the first thing that had come to mind, that she refused to allow gossip to ruin her life. He’d essentially called her a liar, forcing her to tell him something that he would find more believable. “I did not want to marry a man I do not love,” she’d shot back at him. The look on his face had been hurt. That surprised her. The truth—that she couldn’t bring herself to tell him—was she didn’t want to marry a man who didn’t loveher. But now,nowshe was going to do just that, and no amount of guilt or recrimination would make that untrue.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Ewan stood at the altar of the little village church as Thea walked down the aisle toward him. He hadn’t seen her since the night of the Christmastide ball. Both he and Lord Blackstone had agreed that would be for the best. Blackstone had sent word, however, that Thea was willing to marry him. Apparently, she agreed that after Lady Hepplewhite’s gossip, there was no other choice. An unconfirmed story in theTimeswas one thing. Lady Hepplewhite and her daughter seeing it with their own eyes was quite another.
Thea walked toward Ewan looking as if she were walking toward an executioner. She looked small. Small and frightened, almost like a little girl. The bouquet of winter lilies she held in her hands was trembling slightly and her mouth remained a thin, unhappy line as she made her way to stand beside him.
The church was nearly empty on this cold, January morning. Lord Blackstone, Anthony, Maggie, and Lord Theodore Harding, Thea’s uncle, stood at the pews on Thea’s side. Only Bell and Dr. Blanchard stood on Ewan’s side. Dr. Blanchard had only taken his side to even out the guests. Bell had been the only one of Ewan’s oldest friends who had been able to make it on such short notice. As a Naval officer, Kendall was out of the country and Worth was indisposed. Phillip couldn’t attend and risk being recognized. Ewan’s own mother hadn’t traveled to Devon from London due to the cold. Instead, she’d sent him a letter asking him to bring his new bride to the city for a visit the first chance he got.
Meanwhile, the vicar spoke the words that would bind Ewan and Thea together for life and Thea didn’t even glance at him. Instead, she kept her eyes trained on the vicar, a half-stunned, half-resigned look on her face. It was as if she were attending a funeral instead of her own wedding.
Guilt pummeled Ewan’s conscience with every word the clergyman spoke. Ewan was forcing a young woman to marry him. A young woman who clearly didn’t want him. She’d said as much. She hadn’t wanted him after the gossip about them appeared in theTimesand she didn’t want him now. The only difference was, now she was trapped. And he’d been the one to trap her. Not on purpose, never that. But he’d been the one who’d followed her to the drawing room, waited for her father to leave, and then forced her to speak to him. She’d even told him she wanted to leave the room, precisely because she was fearful they’d be seen together. But Ewaninsistedshe stay. There was no doubt in his mind that he was entirely to blame for what happened between them that night and he was ruining this poor young woman’s life by forcing her into an unwanted marriage.
Ewan, too, kept his eyes trained on the vicar, repeating the words that sealed their fate. When it was over, when they were well and truly married and had signed the record book, they turned to face their friends. Their faces completely blank, they promptly left the altar in opposite directions.
THE WEDDING PARTYpiled into three different coaches to return to Ewan’s estate. The wedding breakfast was a tense and awkward affair held in the dining room at Clayton Manor. Dr. Blanchard and Lord Theodore did their best to keep the conversation going. Meanwhile, Ewan cleared his throat uncomfortably, Thea poked at her meal without consuming a bite, and Anthony and Bell drank brandy at ten o’clock in the morning.
After the breakfast had mercifully ended, all of the guests, except Bell and Maggie, took their leave. Ewan and Thea walked everyone to the door. Lord Blackstone kissed his daughter on the cheek without saying a word, while Anthony clapped Ewan on the shoulder. “Congratulations, old man. Best of luck.” Then he hugged his sister and slipped out the door.
