The Duke of Ruin Read online

  “Verity’s taken care of everything.” She realized he’d called her Verity earlier too. They’d spent a bit of time together at some point. Had she talked him into this?

  “The two of you have already planned everything?” She put her hand on her hip. “What if I’d said no?”

  “Then we wouldn’t go. We simply wanted to be ready in case you said yes.” He cupped her cheek. “You will always have choice, Diana. Say the word, and we’ll stay right here. Or go anywhere you want to.”

  She wanted to go to Gretna Green. Did it matter if it felt a little bit like she’d been managed?

  Had she really, though? Simon had assured her the decision was hers. Verity only had her best interests at heart, and she believed Simon did too. He’d never given her reason to doubt his intentions. It wasn’t their fault that she was predisposed to distrust people’s motives when it came to her happiness.

  His brow creased with concern, and he stroked his thumb along her cheekbone. “Are you all right?”

  She nuzzled her face against his hand, craving his touch. “Yes. It’s just been a long day. You’re right. I should go to bed.”

  “I’ll escort you,” he said, dropping a kiss on her temple. “Let me put my breeches back on.”

  When he was more appropriately covered, he led her to the door and into the corridor.

  “I’m to the left.” She gestured down the corridor where a sconce flickered on the wall at the corner. They made their way to the light, then turned right along another gallery that overlooked the courtyard. She stopped at the first door and opened it, then turned toward him. “Thank you for…tonight.” She couldn’t keep from blushing when she thought of what she’d done.

  “Thank you.” He leaned forward but hesitated before touching his lips to hers. “May I kiss you again?”

  “Now you’re going to ask?” She laughed softly. “Yes, please.” She curled her hands around his neck and pulled his head down to hers for a searing, knee-melting kiss.

  He drew back with a sigh. “Verity says we should be in Gretna Green in three days. It feels like a lifetime.”

  It did to her too. “It’s rather ironic that we’re in separate bedrooms after sharing one for over a week, and now we actually want to share a bed.”

  He grinned. “Indeed. Well, we’ll ride as fast as we can.”

  She gave him a suggestive look. “We’ll have to stop for two nights probably.”

  “Verity will be with us, so we’ll have to behave. Besides, I told you I’m waiting until we are wed, and I meant it.”

  She let out a soft snort. “We could repeat what we did tonight.”

  He kissed her hard and fast. “Incorrigible. Don’t ever change. Good night, Diana.”

  “Good night, Simon.”

  She watched him back away from her door and reluctantly turn. When he reached the corner, he looked back at her. She curled her lips into a smile, and he placed his hand over his heart.

  With a giggle—truly a sound she didn’t think she’d ever made—she went into her chamber and closed the door.

  For the first time in her life, she looked forward not just to tomorrow, but to all the tomorrows. The future was no longer a gray, grim unknown. She glimpsed peace and happiness.

  As she shrugged out of her dressing gown and climbed into bed, a voice in the back of her head reminded her she still had to face her father at some point and that he would still be furious she’d run off and married the Duke of Ruin. The worst of it was that her father would only be angry because Simon was a pariah. The reason behind his reputation mattered not. Father would have no quarrel with Diana marrying a murderer, if that murderer was popular and admired and would advance their family’s position.

  However, she wasn’t marrying a murderer.

  Chapter 12

  It had been a grueling three days that saw them to Gretna with cold temperatures and a persistent drizzle on the middle day. Even if Verity hadn’t been traveling with them, Simon doubted he and Diana would’ve had the energy to continue what they’d started the night before they’d left.

  And if he believed that, he’d clearly forgotten what it was like to be hopelessly attracted to someone.

  In fact, he had. He’d spent the last two years in deep mourning, not just disallowing himself to want another woman, but not even finding the urge to do so. The kiss he’d given Diana at the house party had reawakened his body. The kiss at Brereton had reawakened his mind. The events at Beaumont Tower had sent him into a haze of desire so strong that barely an hour went by that he didn’t think of her and all the things he wanted to do to her once they were wed.

  It would likely have been even more often than that, but he was also busy loathing himself for feeling this way. He didn’t deserve to find such bliss, not when Miriam was cold and dead in a grave.

  Christ, he was a maudlin prick.

  He wiped a hand over his face as they rode into the yard at the blacksmith shop. He looked over at Diana, and Verity rode up beside her. The groom lingered behind them on his horse.

  They’d discussed their plan last night at dinner. They would ride directly to the blacksmith shop and be married. Then they’d find an inn. Their coaches—Simon’s and Verity’s—would hopefully arrive late tomorrow. Then Simon and Diana would travel south to Lyndhurst while Verity would return home. Though he’d only spent a few days with her, Simon was already quite fond of his soon-to-be-wife’s cousin.

  Soon-to-be-wife.

  His heart pounded in his chest, and he hoped for the thousandth time that he was doing the right thing. Not that he would change his mind. He was quite past the point of no return.

  Their groom, Paddon, helped Verity dismount, while Simon moved to help Diana. From the moment he clasped her waist, awareness tripped along his flesh and up his spine. Their eyes met, and he saw desire reflected in the blue depths.

  Reluctantly, he let go of her but offered his arm, which she took as they made their way to Verity. She took Simon’s other arm, and he guided them into the blacksmith shop. Paddon remained in the yard to look after the horses.

  Inside, a young man rushed to meet them. “Good afternoon, are ye here to wed?”

  “Indeed we are. I am the Duke of Romsey.” There was no need for aliases any longer. Indeed, he had to be the duke now. “We have a witness with us, the Duchess of Blackburn, cousin to the bride. Will you be able to provide another, or should we fetch our groom from the yard?”

  The lad bowed a bit awkwardly to the duchess and then to Diana. “Mrs. Elliott can serve as your other witness. Ye just need to pay the fee.” His brogue was thick but understandable. “Mr. Elliot is finishing up with another wedding. May I take your hats, gloves, and cloaks?”

  “Thank you,” Verity said, withdrawing her hand from Simon’s arm and removing her gloves.

  Diana followed her actions, and Simon resisted the urge to take her hand, to keep her close. In a very short time, she’d be bound to him forever. Cold sweat broke out along his neck. Miriam was supposed to have been forever. He didn’t see how he could love two wives. And he would always love Miriam.

  The sound of a hammer hitting the anvil came from the room next door.

  Verity smiled. “Someone is newly married.”

  Simon handed his items to the boy, and Diana and Verity did the same. Arms laden, the lad opened a door into an adjoining room, where the sound of the hammer had originated.

  Verity turned to Diana. “I’m sorry you aren’t getting married in a splendid gown in front of an audience.”

  “I couldn’t give a fig about an audience. Everyone I care about is right here.” She smiled at Verity, and Simon knew she was speaking of her cousin and only her cousin. It wasn’t that she didn’t care for him—he assumed she did, at least somewhat. But it wasn’t the same, and he didn’t expect it to be.

  Diana looked down at one of the only two gowns she’d brought with her. This one had a bit of decoration along the neck. “A new gown might be nice—or perhaps
just one I haven’t worn to death and never wish to see again.”

  Verity gave her a sympathetic nod. “Tomorrow, my maid will arrive with the gowns that she’s altered to fit you for the journey to Lyndhurst. You’ll feel better then.”

  A young, very pretty woman came from the room next door. “We’re ready for you,” she said, nodding toward the room. “Go on in.”

  “So quickly?” Diana asked, looking mildly surprised.

  Was she nervous too?

  He stepped toward her. “We can take a few minutes, if you like.”

  “No, you can’t,” the woman said apologetically. “Another couple will be along shortly, and then you’ll have to wait.”

  Diana looked to Simon. “Then we’d best go in.”

  She took his arm again as they made their way into the next room. A couple was just leaving through another door, and the young man was closing it behind them. A second man came toward them with a broad grin.

  “Welcome to Gretna! I’m Robert Elliot. I understand I have the distinct honor of marrying a duke today.”

  Simon nodded. “I’m the Duke of Romsey. This is my bride, Miss Diana Kingman, and her cousin, Her Grace, the Duchess of Blackburn.”

  “My goodness, such esteemed company.” Elliott puffed up his wide chest and stood a bit taller. “Have you paid the fee?”

  Simon took his arm from Diana’s grip and reached into his coat for the money, then handed it to the man. “I believe this is more than sufficient.”

  Elliot looked down. “Yes, indeed, thank you.” He handed it off to the woman who’d greeted them in the other room. “This is my wife. Is there anything you require before the ceremony?”

  “Is there a ceremony?” Diana asked. They’d been told at the inn in Carlisle last night that they could simply declare their wish to marry, and as long as they had two witnesses, that was all it took.

  It was laughably simple, once you made the arduous journey to get there.

  “There can be,” Elliott said. “You’re welcome to recite vows. But it isn’t necessary. I just need your names and your witnesses for the register.”

  Simon turned to Diana. “What do you wish to do?”

  She was quiet a moment then asked, “What do you want to do?”

  “I’ve been married before,” he said. “You haven’t. I will do whatever you wish.”

  “You’ve been married before?” Elliott asked, sounding a bit alarmed.

  “His wife is deceased,” Verity said softly.

  Elliott nodded. “I’ll be over at the register while you decide.” He moved to a table where a book lay open.

  Diana looked at Verity. “Does it matter if we say vows? It feels…strange to do so in a blacksmith shop. But then maybe it would feel strange regardless.”

  “Say the vows,” Verity said with a small smile. “You won’t regret it. And if you don’t, well, you may decide later that you wish you had.”

  That was an excellent point, and yet Simon was a little frightened about repeating them. Miriam had never felt more present, and he didn’t like the sensation.

  Diana took a breath and turned determinedly toward the register. “Let us sign our names, then.”

  Simon touched her arm. “What about the vows?”

  “I appreciate what Verity said, but I don’t need to say them, nor do I need to hear them. They’re just words.” She tipped her head to the side. “Unless you really want to. It’s just… I thought…” She looked away. “Never mind.”

  He stroked his thumb along her forearm. “What?”

  She returned her gaze to his. “As you said, you’ve done this before. Had a wedding and recited vows. This one is quite different—so why not make it so in every way?”

  The apprehension bubbling inside him settled. Yes, it was quite different. “What a thoughtful sentiment.”

  They went to the register, where they signed their names. Verity signed hers next, then she handed the pen to Mrs. Elliott. “Thank you for serving as witness.”

  “Happy to, Your Grace.” Mrs. Elliott put her name to the paper.

  Elliott blinked at Simon. “Do you have a ring?”

  He’d thought of that, but there’d been no time. Still, he regretted not having one. “No.”

  “If you like, we have hammered iron bands for purchase.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Diana said.

  Simon nodded at Elliott. “Yes, the daintiest, most feminine one you have, please.”

  The anvil priest turned to his wife, but she was already on her way out. He smiled at Simon. “She knows just what to get. That will be two pounds.”

  Diana curled her hand around Simon’s elbow. “It really isn’t necessary.”

  He looked down at her, thinking of what she’d said. This was going to be different from the last time, and if that meant buying her an iron wedding band, then that was what he was going to do. Plus, he wanted this to be special for her in some way.

  “I insist,” he said quietly, looking into her eyes.

  Mrs. Elliott returned with a ring and gave it to Simon. “The prettiest one we have.”

  It was rather slender, with a flower and a vine etched around the circumference. It was perfect. “Exactly what I had in mind, thank you.”

  He turned to Diana and took her hand. Taking a deep breath, he stared into her eyes. “I promise to protect you and keep you for all the days of my life.” He then recited the part of the marriage vows he remembered most, the ones he felt Diana ought to hear from her husband. He slipped the ring onto her finger. Remarkably, it fit. “With this ring, I thee wed.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the soft flesh on the back. “With my body, I thee worship.” He took her other hand so that he clasped them both, never breaking eye contact. “With all my worldly goods, I thee endow. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, Amen.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers.

  He felt her sigh against his mouth.

  A loud sniff filled the room. “That was so romantic,” Mrs. Elliott said, dabbing a handkerchief at her eye.

  Simon turned to the anvil priest. “Thank you, Mr. Elliott.” He bowed toward the anvil priest’s wife. “Mrs. Elliott.” He looked between them both. “Can you recommend a smaller inn where we might lodge?”

  “The Dove will suit your needs,” Mr. Elliott said.

  Mrs. Elliott scoffed. “Pshaw. They said small, Robert.” Her lips spread into a comely smile as she turned to Simon and Diana. “The Bell and Broomstick is what you need. Just to the west a bit off the main road.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Elliott.”

  The boy brought their cloaks and hats and gloves.

  “Your Grace?”

  Simon had been busy drawing on his gloves, but he looked over and saw that the boy was addressing Diana. She was staring at her ring, and the boy still held her things.

  Edging closer to her, Simon nudged her elbow softly.

  She blinked up at him, saw him dart his eyes toward the boy, and gave the lad her attention.

  “Your Grace?” he repeated.

  A pale blush rose in Diana’s cheeks. “Oh yes, thank you.” She accepted her hat and gloves while Simon took her cloak and waited to help her put it on.

  “Congratulations to you,” Mrs. Elliott said, looking between them. “May you enjoy a happy and fruitful life together.” She led them to the exterior door where the other couple had departed earlier.

  Outside, Simon blinked up at the darkening sky.

  “It’s going to be dark soon,” Verity said.

  “And it’s going to rain. Let’s find The Bell and Broomstick, shall we?” He led them back to the yard, where Paddon waited with the horses. A few minutes later, they were on their way, and it didn’t take them long to find the inn Mrs. Elliott had recommended.

  The Bell and Broomstick was a smaller establishment, but still qualified as a coaching inn. But then Gretna was a main stop on the road between London and Edinburgh, so Simon presumed all
the inns were of the coaching variety.

  Again, he helped Diana from the horse. As he set her on the ground, he murmured, “Duchess.”

  She blushed again. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

  “Shall I call you that until you’re comfortable with it?”

  “No. I prefer you call me Diana.” There was a saucy tilt to her chin and a mischievous sparkle in her eye that elicited a flash of desire.

  She was his wife.

  He froze for a moment, torn between elation and distress. Miriam hovered at the back of his mind. He pushed her away but felt horrible for it.

  A fat drop of rain landed on his arm. “Let’s get inside.”

  Simon took two rooms—one for Verity and one for him and Diana—for two nights. Tomorrow, they would rest. Uncharitably, he thought it was too bad Verity was with them for if they’d been alone, he could have looked forward to spending the entire day in bed with his bride.

  Since they were ravenous, they decided to eat immediately. They sat in the common room, and Simon noticed that Diana kept looking at the ring on her finger. He hoped it was because it was new and not because she didn’t like it. Not that it mattered. It was temporary—he’d buy her a new, fancier ring in London or Bath, maybe something with a sapphire. He’d wanted a symbol and for her to have that small part of the traditional ceremony. It had also been important to him that he pledge himself to her. Maybe this time, he’d do a better job of it.

  “I think I’ll see if I can do some shopping tomorrow,” Verity said. “I’d like to find a present for Beau for Christmas.”

  Christmas. Miriam had loved the holiday. She’d wanted to get a tree and light it with candles like Queen Charlotte had done. They’d planned to do it for their very next Christmas, but of course, it had never come. He doubted he and Diana would reach Lyndhurst before the holiday and decided he’d rather not.

  “Perhaps we should return to Beaumont Tower with you. For Christmas,” Simon said, spearing the last of his mutton on his fork. “Diana, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” During their journey to Gretna, she and Verity had recollected the Christmas they’d spent together there two years ago. It had seemed a very happy time for Diana in particular since she’d come without her parents.