Wedding Wagers(41)

But she didn't care about her dress or what anyone in all of Southill thought of her. She had a man to catch up to.





Victor should have written Juliet of his coming, but he hadn't trusted  that her brother would deliver the letter to her. Besides, he couldn't  tell her the truth in the letter. He had to find out if she'd choose him  over her brother's wishes. She was the type of woman who'd sacrifice  her all for another. Was she willing to sacrifice her heart as well?

Apparently, she was.

When he'd heard about the banns posted for Juliet and Lord Stratford,  Victor hadn't believed it at first. But upon finding that the marriage  was going to happen, he'd wrestled with himself day and night about what  to do.

And it wasn't until this morning that everything had become official,  and he realized that he could no longer put off his heart. He had to  try. So, he came.

A lot of good that had done.

Weeks ago, he'd been willing to live a pauper's life to have Juliet by  his side, but she'd made it clear that she wasn't willing to do the  same. It was just as well, he supposed, that he discovered it now before  he married the woman.

He glanced over at the men he'd rousted on this journey. Surely they  thought he was a fool. The only reason Victor wasn't currently ranting  and raving himself was because a cold numbness had settled over him. It  wouldn't last for long, though. It would soon turn to anger, then grief,  then despair. Ironically, this was as close as he'd ever felt to  understanding his father, and Juliet was still alive and well.

Victor and his men would all return to London, and as soon as his back  was turned, the tales would start. With the exception of Lord Hudson-who  was a true friend and would likely wait a few days before he cracked  and came up with his own jokes.         

     



 

"Someone's coming," Hudson said.

Victor said nothing, and he wasn't sure why Hudson was interested in another rider on the road anyway.

"It's Lady Juliet," Hudson added.

Victor froze. Then, slowly, he turned to see a woman on horseback . . .  no . . . a woman and two horses. His bays. And she was riding like she  was either running from someone or chasing something.

The cold numbness that had surrounded Victor's heart since Juliet had  turned him away started to thaw. He blinked once, then twice. No, she  wasn't a mirage. She was truly riding his bay in her wedding gown. Since  she'd chosen to sit astride the horse, the hem of the dress had risen  to mid-calf. Her hair had come out of its pins, and the honey gold  streamed behind her. She grasped the reins of both horses so tightly in  her hands that her knuckles were white.

Truthfully, she looked like an avenging angel bearing down upon them.  Victor was transfixed at the sight as his thudding heart echoed the  bays' hoofbeats.

"Do you think she's changed her mind?" Hudson mused.

"Be gone," Victor said in a firm voice. He glanced to the men, who were  all gaping at Juliet's approach. "Take yourselves around the bend of the  road on the other side of those trees. Give the lady some privacy for  what she's come to say."

Hudson smirked, but he and the other men rode on ahead until they'd  disappeared around the bend. Not that Victor was exactly watching them,  because Juliet had slowed the bays as she neared. Her dark blue eyes  were as wild as her appearance, and she reined the horses to a stop,  then began to dismount. The dress caught, and Victor hurried to dismount  his own horse to help her down.

But he was a moment too late to aid her in a graceful manner, and she  nearly tumbled against him as she tried to free her dress from its  entanglement. He caught her by the waist, and once she had her balance,  he released her and stood back. Holding her in his arms was not the way  to keep his mind rational.

What if she were merely demanding that he keep the horses?

She turned to face him, and before he could question her, she sank to her knees.

"Forgive me, Lord Locken," she said. "I have been careless with your  heart, and I have hurt my brother and Lord Stratford in the process."

Victor stared down at her, then he grasped her upper arms and drew her to her feet. "Do not kneel before me."

She gazed at him for a moment, her breathing rapid, then she threw her  arms about his neck. "I am so sorry," she said into his neck.

He had no choice but to place his hands on her waist, if only to steady himself.

"I don't mind being poor," she said in a breathless voice. "I've grown  quite used to it. But I don't want you to give up all you have-"

"Juliet," he said, trying to find his sense of reason in all of what she was saying. "What have you done? Why are you here?"

She pulled back so that their gazes met. "I've called off the wedding,"  she said. "Lord Stratford will now forever hate me. I told him if you  will not have me, then I will become a governess. I have never seen my  brother so shocked and furious. John will never forgive me, and I'm  afraid that I am now without home or family."

"And you mounted the bay and rode after me?" he asked. "Why?"

Her voice fell to a whisper. "Because you came for me." Tears filled her  eyes. "And I wanted to tell you that I do choose you. And I love you.  Even if we can't marry, you deserve to know that."

Victor wondered if he should laugh at the turn of events or simply kiss her. "There is no reason we cannot marry."

"But-"

He pressed a finger to her lips. "I need to tell you something."

She stilled.

He lowered his finger and rested his hand on her shoulder. "After the  funeral, I packed my things in preparation for my cousin's takeover of  the dukedom. While sorting through papers in the library, I found a copy  of my father's will. Sure enough, he'd revised it to state that I would  have to marry Lady Diana by the end of the year in order to keep the  dukedom. But something stuck out to me-there was no signature or date. I  assumed the signed version was with the solicitor, and I didn't think  much about it until I'd returned to London."

"What are you saying, Victor?" Juliet asked.

"I'm saying, my dear, that I looked into the issue," he said. "And I  discovered that my father never signed the new will, for whatever  reason. I had to go through a mess of litigation with the courts, but as  of yesterday, I am the rightful Duke of Wycliff."         

     



 

Her eyes widened. "And you are not married to Lady Diana?"

His smile was slow. "I am not married to Lady Diana. My bride will be of my choosing."

"You are free," she whispered, new tears in her eyes. She touched the sides of his face in a caress.

Victor rested his forehead against hers. "I am free to marry you and to love you for the rest of my life."

She moved her hands behind his neck, threading her fingers into his  hair. "We will probably need a special license after the scandal I  caused in the church."

"No," he said. "We will go to Locken, post the banns there, and then  you'll marry me in a wedding ceremony befitting a duchess." He pressed a  kiss against the edge of her mouth.

"I will need a new gown," she murmured.

"You shall have one." He kissed the other side of her mouth.

"The bays are still mine, since you're only my second proposal."

He laughed before kissing the edge of her jaw. "You'll need a carriage  to go with them. Maybe that can be my wedding gift to you."

She sighed with contentment, and he took the opportunity to trail more kisses down her neck until he reached her collar bone.

"Victor," she said in a quiet voice. "What shall we do about my brother?"

He lifted his head. "We will give him a year to clean up. Then, you'll  make the decision whether to help put Southill Estate to rights." He  traced her jawline with his fingers while gazing into her blue eyes. "It  will be your decision, my dear, solely yours. Because if it were up to  me, the outcome would not be sweet."

Her smile was faint, but her eyes were deep pools of gratitude. "You're a good man, Victor Roland."

He grinned at her. "In that case, I must do this properly." He released Juliet and knelt on one knee.

She covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes widening.

"Don't tell me you're surprised," he said. "I mean, I did travel quite a way to crash your wedding."

"You're kneeling in the dirt."

"We'll make a matching pair, then." He winked. "Your dress has half the road on it."

A smile spread across her face.

"Lady Juliet Baldwin," he said, grasping her hand. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

She didn't hesitate. Her smile only grew wider as she leaned down and pressed her lips against his.

While her kiss was lovely, she still hadn't answered. "Is that a yes?" he asked after a moment.

She drew back and leveled him with her blue gaze. "It most certainly is, Your Grace."

"Perfect." He rose and pulled her into his arms. "Let's do this  properly, then." He kissed her most thoroughly then, as one must do in  the middle of a road, after a proposal of marriage is accepted. And as  her arms wound around his neck, he inhaled everything that was  Juliet-sun, wind, flowers, and promises.