The Baron's Blunder Read online

  Lady Grey had explained the wonders of the marriage bed to her. The new bride wasn’t as afraid of what might happen given some of what Lady Grey shared. It seemed that those kisses could be a precursor to more wonders in store. She could hardly wait. Lord Charles Percy was after all, a handsome man, and his kisses were quite delightful.

  Soon Marcus was before her to escort her to the chapel where her groom awaited.

  “I wish Jared were here,” she whispered.

  “Perhaps you’ll see him when you go to France. I’ve written him to inform him of the happy news and your destination.”

  “That would be wonderful. Thank you, Marcus. You are the best big brother a girl could ever have.”

  “You say that now that I have no authority over you.” He grinned. “I love you too, Henri. Father and Mother would be proud of the young woman you’ve become and your choice of life mate.”

  “I’d like to think so. Lady Grey said something similar as she helped me prepare.”

  “We are blessed to have her.”

  “Yes.”

  They arrived at the door of the chapel. Henri toyed with her skirt, a pale green with lace overlay that was comfortable and elegant all at once. Daisies made up the bouquet she held in her hand.

  She walked down the aisle with her brother and was handed off to Charles who looked dashing in his suit. The ceremony went on forever with words from the vicar’s prayer book as well as psalms being read. All she could do was wait for it to be over. Her feet ached from standing so long. Once all had been done and vows spoken they were presented as husband and wife. Charles led her down the aisle and soon everyone followed.

  They headed to the house and all Henri could long for was his kiss. They were wed. The waiting was driving her mad. As they passed a room she dragged her husband inside and locked the door behind them.

  “What…?” Charles asked.

  “I can’t wait any longer. You promised.” She put her arm up to draw his face towards hers, and their lips met in a delightful dance.

  Charles held her close, averting his face. He breathed heavily. “You don’t understand what you do to me.”

  She gave a sly grin. “I have some idea.”

  “An eager bride.” He grinned. “We owe it to your brother and aunt to dine with them. Then we will take leave for my estate, and all the kisses you want.”

  “Oh, but I want so much more…”

  Charles shook his head. “We’ll dine first.”

  Henri pouted and then grinned as well. “All right. We eat and leave. As soon as possible.” She unlocked the door and dragged him to the wedding breakfast which lasted far too long for her.

  ~*~

  Charles helped his wife into his coach. Wife. He savored the word. Miss Allendale had become The Right Honourable Lady Percy. Sharing the carriage with them was her pet parrot, Peaches. As Charles sat next to his bride, the bird in the cage on the seat across from them squawked, “Pish, posh!”

  “I may need to have my butler or housekeeper work with the bird to learn some new phrases while we are away.”

  “We can’t take her with us?”

  “Sorry, but our crossing will be far less comfortable than you’re used to.”

  “I thought the Black Diamond wouldn’t want me anymore now that I’m wed.”

  “We can’t be certain of that, so we will sneak out of the country.”

  Her face fell into a frown.

  With a finger he brought her face to face with himself. “Listen, sweetheart, whether he was after you or not, the reality is, I love you, and our marriage would have hopefully happened in time. So what if it was hastened? I hope to prove to you that it was well worth it to place your heart, your life, and your future in me.”

  “That’s not true. I placed all of those in God, and He led me to you. Now, you said you delighted in the truth?”

  “Yes…”

  “Well, so do I, and the truth is, I delight in your kisses and cannot think of a better way to pass our time.” She leaned forward, and he wrapped his arms around her.

  In action instead of words, he gave further affirmation of her plan.

  12

  After a few short blissful days at her new home, Henrietta was awakened by her dashing husband. “But we just…”

  “Shhh. I know. We’re sneaking out.”

  “Why?”

  “In case the Black Diamond has an informant in our midst. Here. I have some clothes for you to put on.”

  She picked up the shirt and trousers. “You want me to wear these?”

  “I do. Now hurry. I have a cravat we can use to help disguise some of your more, um, obvious feminine attributes.”

  “But what about my hair?”

  “We’ll tuck it under a cap.”

  “Our trunks?”

  “I already sent them ahead with my valet and your maid. They are to meet us in France at our designated location.”

  “Can they be trusted?”

  “I believe so, but we shall be careful. I suspect once we are out of the country, the threat will no longer be an issue. You wanted to visit the Continent; hopefully this will be an enjoyable adventure.”

  “A tale for our children someday.” She slid on the pants, and he assisted with binding her chest. Once dressed and her hair obscured he handed her an older long, dark coat. She pulled on her boots which would probably pass for a man’s given the larger size of her feet. She stood before him. “Well? Do I pass?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Why?”

  “You tempt me to delay our trip, and we cannot afford that. I’ll need to treat you as a man.” He handed her a gun to tuck into her pocket. “Ready?”

  “As ready as I could be, I suppose.”

  They sneaked out the back door and past the barn to a side lane where a carriage awaited.

  Michael came forward to greet them. “Come, we must hurry.”

  After climbing into the carriage, it jerked to a start and soon they were on their way.

  “Anything else I need to know about our journey?”

  “Hopefully not.”

  Upon reaching the coast they left the horses and carriage at an inn, grabbing a bite to eat before taking off on foot through some woods.

  Sir Michael led the way through a clearing to a rundown building with the door partially off its hinges.

  Once inside Henri recoiled at the amount of dust and the sight of a mouse running for cover. She restrained herself from screaming. The day had grown quite warm, so they all took off their coats. A moth-eaten mattress was on a pallet in the corner and two rickety chairs were near the empty fireplace.

  “I think you minimized the austerity of our lodgings, Michael,” she griped.

  Charles stretched his coat across the mattress. “Get some rest. We’ve a long night ahead.”

  “You want me to sleep here?”

  “The floor is probably filthier, and at least this has some cushion.”

  “What about you?”

  “Michael and I will sleep in the chairs, each taking turns at keeping a watch out for suspicious activity.”

  She turned toward the knight. “This really is what you do for a living?”

  Sir Michael put his finger up to his lips. “Shh. The less you understand the safer you are.”

  “Charles, this isn’t the normal work you do?”

  “No. I’ve as much experience as you do with eavesdropping for our country and that’s as far as it’s gone until now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll explain more when we are across the channel.”

  She sat down and curled up on her husband’s coat. At least there was that barrier between her and whatever was in that sorry excuse for a mattress. She soon fell asleep.

  ~*~

  Charles and Michael stood outside, whispering.

  “I’m still not convinced of the wisdom of this plan.”

  Michael stared at him. �
�It’s really too late to turn back now.”

  “There is always a choice.”

  “Staying puts your wife at risk as well as yourself.”

  “If anything happens to me…”

  “I’ll ensure she gets to safety. But nothing will go wrong.”

  Charles sighed. “You want first watch?”

  “Sure. Get some sleep.”

  Charles returned to the cabin and rested. After two hours, Michael woke him and then slumped in the chair to take his own rest. Charles paced outside the cabin and kept an eye on the mostly wooded terrain. There was a view to the channel though and no dock there. How were they getting out of here? Anxiety welled within him. Lord, help me to rest in You. Protect Henrietta. Somehow see this evil defeated in England.

  Darkness fell later than any of them would have preferred. They feasted on some fruit, cheese, and bread that Michael had brought. “You’ll need to wait until we get to France for the good brandy,” Michael joked.

  Soon they were headed out to the water as a small fishing vessel rowed in to them.

  “That is taking us to France?” Henrietta gasped.

  “It may not be the most comfortable, but it is the least noticeable,” Michael assured her.

  Light came from the woods in the form of a torch. “Get her in the boat. Fast,” Charles whispered to Michael. The knight nodded and dragged Henrietta to the boat. Charles rushed at the intruder who dropped the torch as they wrestled to the ground. Charles managed to get the advantage. He grabbed the man by his cravat. “Tell your master that his virginal sacrifice is now my wife.”

  “Where is she?”

  Charles shook his head and the man struggled again. A knife appeared and sliced into his back shoulder before he could escape its edge. Charles inhaled sharply at the stinging pain and let the man go. A gunshot echoed through the night, whizzing past his ear. The man’s eyes went wide with surprise as he collapsed to the ground. Charles winced and checked him. No pulse. He ran to the boat.

  As Michael pulled him in, Charles whispered, “Thanks for the assist.”

  Michael shook his head. “Wasn’t me.” His eyebrows raised and he nodded toward Henrietta.

  Pain seared through Charles’s back. Henri’d likely be unhappy about this disruption to their departure. He wasn’t too thrilled either. He fell into the spot next to his wife. “Thank you, my dear.”

  “You’ve been wounded.” She started to peel off his coat.

  “Just a little.”

  “Thought you liked the truth?”

  “Is it serious?” He began to feel the blood oozing out. He untied his cravat and handed it to her. She pressed it against his shirt, and he ground his teeth against the pain.

  “Silly man. Good thing I excel at stitching. Looks as though you’ll need a few.”

  Charles didn’t remember any more of the journey.

  ~*~

  Light footsteps moved around the room. His shoulder ached, and his shirt was damp. Covers weighed him down.

  “At least he’s not a grumpy invalid.”

  His wife. But who was she talking to?

  He forced his eyes open. “Henrietta?”

  She came to the bed and sat next to him. Surely she surpassed angels in beauty.

  “What happened?” His voice was raspy to his own ears.

  “I’ll explain later when you’re better. You’ve been sick, and we are in Paris. We arrived last night. Be careful not to move your left arm as we don’t want you to rip your stitches. That scar will likely be your first souvenir of our maiden travel as husband and wife.”

  Now he started to remember. The journey south and the attack. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Taking such good care of me.”

  “You and Lord Hughes tried to convince me we would do well together, and I finally agree he is correct. But don’t ever do anything so silly again or it might be you I shoot next time.”

  Charles grinned at her. “Anything you say, sweetheart.”

  “That’s more like it. We’ll see how agreeable you are when we wean you off the laudanum.”

  “Come here.”

  She bent forward.

  He pulled her closer with his right arm and gave her a kiss to let her know without a doubt that he loved her. He expected a lifetime ahead filled with adventures in loving this woman.

  Thank You, Lord.

  Don’t miss the rest of the

  Black Diamond Christian Gothic Regency Suspense Series

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  The Virtuous Viscount

  PROLOGUE

  Derbyshire

  The Black Diamond stared at the pitiful Sir Archibald Bastian. He doubted the fool could deliver to him the virgin he demanded. The potential disappointment was worth the current pleasure of watching him squirm. If he failed, Diamond would own Bastian’s estate, located conveniently on an inlet with access to the ocean. Perfect for his purposes.

  “I made an offer of marriage. Her father insists on giving her time,” Bastian whimpered. The man perspired and mangled the hat in his hand as he stood there, fidgeting.

  “She is a virgin?” Diamond pounded his fist on the mahogany desk in front of him.

  “Yes. Most certainly, my lord.”

  “Then let this be done before the season is over. You will wed her and return her to me untouched.”

  “Un-untouched?”

  “Do you have a hearing problem, Bastian? That is my demand, and if you expect to have your gambling debts paid, you will deliver.”

  The bumbling knight swallowed hard. “Yes, my lord. It shall be as you say.”

  “Leave me.” The Black Diamond snapped his fingers. The door on the opposite end of the room swung open.

  Bastian nodded his head and backed away, bowing as he did so. The Black Diamond grinned. Sometimes his minions were far too easy to intimidate. Foolish Englishmen. They were all doomed anyway. Once he had his sacrifice, the war would turn. Soon, quite soon, the Black Diamond would equal Napoleon Bonaparte for power and wealth.

  Ah, but the virgin. She was the key. He would crush his English rose and enjoy every minute. After all, it was what his own dark lord required of him. He was only following orders.

  1

  Spring

  Oxfordshire

  The gray gelding reared as a flash of lightning struck the tree by the road. Lord Marcus Remington held on tight and brought his mount under control.

  Weariness seeped into the marrow of his bones, much as the rain did his exposed trousers. Fatigue weighed on him. He was weary of the hunt—the balls and soirees and the pressure to dress ‘top of the trees.’ He longed for the one place he was most at ease. Rose Hill. Home. His three friends, following behind, were equally miserable in the spring storm. Should they have waited out the deluge at the pub in Didcot? It hadn’t seemed worth it when his estate was so close. They had agreed to ride on.

  As he turned the bend, the Viscount’s heart sank at the vision illuminated by another flash of light. Through sheets of rain, Marcus spied a carriage teetering on its side. The top half of it hung over a ditch filled with running water from the storm. The horses were free of the carriage. They struggled against their traces as a young man tried to calm them. Their frantic neighs added to the cacophony of wind, thunder, and rain. Two figures huddled under a nearby tree. He sighed as he slowed his horse.

  “What ho!” Marcus shouted. He pulled up to await an older man, most likely the groom, who limped forward. Marcus dismounted. “Is everyone out of the carriage?”

  The man pointed off the road toward the trees. “I got me mistress and her daughter out before the second wheel broke. One more lady is inside.”

  “Is she well?” Marcus implored as three other horses drew up close by and their riders descended. Blood pounded in his ears as he kept his eye on the carriage in its precarious position.

  The man grimaced, and his hands rose in the air as he took in the four gentlemen in their many ca
ped greatcoats. He backed away. “Ye not be here to rob us?”

  Marcus shook his head, and raindrops danced off the brim of his hat. “Most certainly not. Lord Remington at your service. Excuse me.” He turned aside. “Phillip? Will you ride to Rose Hill and bring back a carriage? We have one passenger to rescue. She may be injured, so have Fenton send for the doctor, and inform Mrs. Hughes to expect more guests.”

  “Right away.” The tall, blond aristocrat spun on his heel, remounted, and rode off into the stormy darkness.

  Marcus headed toward the carriage as he called out to his friends. “Theo. Attend to the ladies, please.” Lord Theodore Harrow would charm the women and ease their anxieties. Marcus turned aside to a man of slighter build and lowered his voice. “Michael, a woman is trapped inside.”

  “Then a rescue is in order.” The shorter, coffee-haired gentleman gave a cheeky grin to his friend even as rain dripped off his hat.

  Marcus shook his head and struggled to master the corner of his lips that wanted to curl in response. Leave it to Sir Michael Tidley to see an adventure in what promised to be a challenging effort. He sobered. “Let’s not waste any time. I do not like the way the carriage is balanced.”

  The two gentlemen drew closer to the equipage.

  Marcus noticed the groom had gone back to removing the luggage from the boot. The horses had calmed. “I’ll go in.” Marcus pulled himself up to the side of the carriage. Once on top, he struggled to jerk the door open. It stuck. The carriage rocked over the culvert as Marcus balanced on the sky-borne side.

  Michael grabbed hold of the underside of the carriage to add stability.

  Marcus pulled at the door several times before it gave way and almost threw him off his elevated perch. He waited for the carriage to cease rocking. He knelt and peered into the darkness, barely able to see inside. The rain pelted him harder. Could this night get any worse, Lord?

  A bolt of lightning illuminated the interior long enough to detect where the figure of the passenger rested. He ascertained an area he might stand without landing on her. After lowering himself in, he shut the door to keep out the deluge. His gloved hands moved around in the dark, searching. Oil had spilled from the lantern attached to its hook by the uppermost door. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.