Page 31 of The Lady of the Lamps (Vows in Vauxhall Gardens #1)

O nce it was decided that they would wed, Spencer took charge—and Beatrix was more than happy to let him. They needed to be married quickly, in case Thomas tried to find her and drag her back. Luckily, with Spencer being a marquess, he could organize a special license without too much difficulty.

“We can wed tomorrow,” Spencer said, having parted with a not insignificant amount of money to procure the license. But he didn’t hesitate to hand it over; in fact, he seemed rather pleased, something Beatrix couldn’t imagine Haxbury doing or being happy about.

In fact, she hadn’t seen Lord Leighton—Spencer—smile as much in all the time she’d known him as she’d seen this day.

Beatrix beamed. “Thank you. You are saving me from…a fate I cannot bear to contemplate.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Spencer said softly, taking her hand. Beatrix felt as though he wanted to say more, but his eyes clouded over, and his mind returned to the practical. “You cannot return home tonight. If Haxbury suspects…”

A shiver ran down Beatrix’s spine. She had no wish to see the man again—especially when he might be angry with her.

The previous night she had worried he might force himself upon her, and while she hoped that sober, and in the light of day, he would think better of it, she wasn’t entirely convinced.

“No.”

“It would be inappropriate for you to stay at my home, before we are wed. If any of my staff were to say anything…”

Beatrix did not think she cared much for her reputation now.

After all, she’d been seen in a public place holding the hands of a man she was not married to.

And kissing him! But, if Spencer cared, then she would too.

She didn’t want to embarrass him, now he’d agreed to save her, agreed to be her husband.

The man she had dreamed about for so many years…

She could hardly believe it was happening.

“We should go to an inn,” Spencer said decisively. “A little out of the city, so we shan’t be found, but close enough for me to return tomorrow to retrieve the license. We can give false names, and Haxbury will never find out.”

She hated hearing the name of “Haxbury” spoken with such disdain, even though she felt equal dislike towards the new bearer of the name.

“Of course, Spencer. Whatever you think…”

“I know it’s not entirely proper. But I think it’s the safest option.”

“I trust you.”

The smile he gave her made her heart glow. She would happily put her life in his hands and trust that she would be happier for it.

*

He stopped asking her whether she was sure, because she’d insisted she was, and that kiss was all the proof he needed. He hadn’t thought she should be tied to a broken man like him—but she knew about his demons, and she still wanted him.

And there was no way he was going to let her fall into the clutches of Haxbury. He didn’t know exactly what the man had done to alert Beatrix to his true nature, but Spencer would ensure he never laid a hand on her again.

He did not stop to think about whether he was capable of being her husband. He had to do this—for her. They needed to marry as quickly as possible, and she needed to be kept out of Haxbury’s clutches until there was nothing he could do to stop the union.

By the time everything was arranged and a plan made, dusk was upon them. The carriage ride in the hired hack to the inn was quiet, and when they arrived he told Beatrix to follow what he said.

“Do you have any rooms available?” he asked the innkeeper, an elderly man with a missing tooth.

“Yes milord, we’ve one left. Fine room it is too sir, and a good meal as well…”

He had hoped to procure two rooms, so that Beatrix might have her space on the eve of the wedding, but he did not wish to traipse around inns.

As he had been rather reclusive, he did not think it likely that someone would recognize him, but they might recognize Lady Beatrix—and if word got back to Haxbury about her whereabouts, then he might come after her.

And that duel might become a reality.

He was willing to risk his own life to defend Beatrix’s honor, even if holding a pistol brought everything rushing back. But if he lost, and died, then she would be alone, defenseless against that monster.

And that wasn’t something he was willing to risk.

A maid showed them up to the room, and while she looked surprised at their lack of luggage, she didn’t comment.

The door closed behind them on the sparse room, furnished with a small table and two chairs in one corner, and a stand and a wash basin in the other.

However, it was taken up primarily with a four-poster bed, and Spencer felt his mouth go dry.

He was alone in a bedchamber with the woman whom he wanted more than anything else in the world.

But they were not yet wed.

“I’m sorry there was only one room,” he said. “I will sleep on the floor. It’s just for tonight, and then—”

“We’ll be married tomorrow, Spencer,” Beatrix said with a blush, removing her cloak. “I don’t think it matters all that much whether we share a room, or a bed, tonight.”

Spencer nodded and pulled at his cravat, which suddenly felt too tight. No, he supposed it didn’t matter. But it wasn’t right for him to ravish her on that four-poster as though she were his new bride, either—even if that was what he ached to do.

He wanted to do this right . Even if she was marrying him because she needed to escape her situation. Even if he had only agreed to marry her to save her. She’d said she would help him heal, that they would be happy together, and good Lord he wanted that more than anything.

Even more than he wanted her physically in that moment.

“I have not eaten all day,” she said softly. “Perhaps we could go down to eat?”

“We should eat in here, to make sure you are not seen. But yes, I will go and ask for a meal to be sent up.” He hadn’t eaten either, but until that moment, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was.

The fear, emotion, and adrenaline of the day had quite wiped it from his mind.

The only hunger he’d thought of was his desire for her—and that needed to be ignored until they were wed.

Wed. She was going to be his wife. His partner, his other half, and everything would be permitted.

He would most likely have those children to inherit the title that he had thought he would never have.

She’d changed his life in an instant, and he hadn’t stopped to think about it. It was rather overwhelming, and his breathing became short.

“Spencer?”

“Sorry. Yes, a meal. I’ll go down now. I’ll be back shortly.”

Beatrix nodded. “And you should probably send word to your staff that you’re well, too. Not where we are, of course, but…they were worried.”

“Yes, yes, thank you,” he said, hurrying from the room. Once the door was closed he leaned back against the solid wood and took a deep, steadying breath.

Before that day, he had not thought that anyone would worry about him if he disappeared.

Could he do this? Be Beatrix’s husband? Lay next to her every night? She would find out about his nightmares, there was no doubting that. Probably that very night.

He hurried down the stairs, pushing the fears away. He hadn’t thought he would be a good soldier, until he’d had no choice. And while he hoped marriage wouldn’t leave him broken like war had, now that it was happening, he would have to find the strength to be a good husband.

Because Beatrix needed him.

With the meals ordered and a note sent to his London home, reassuring them he was safe, but with no details that could lead to him being found, he hurried back upstairs. To the room where she was waiting for him.

She was sitting on the bed, looking nervous. Did she think he wouldn’t act as a gentleman?

He took a seat on one of the hard wooden chairs and tried to smile. “So. Tomorrow. After we are married… I think it will be safe to go back to your home, and retrieve your possessions. He may argue over anything of value…”

“I don’t care,” Beatrix said instantly. “There are a few personal trinkets I would appreciate, as they hold memories of my mother and father… But he can keep the rest. I thought keeping my home and my things and my position was worth… Well, was worth the sacrifice of marrying a man I do not like, let alone…respect.” Her teeth worried at her bottom lip.

He recognized it as something he’d seen her do before and it occurred to him he’d have the pleasure of watching her perform that delicate and somehow appealing action for the rest of his life.

His heart warmed. “But nothing is worth being married to the wrong man. There are no right reasons…”

“No,” Spencer agreed. “And trinkets or not, you will not lose your memories. And I can afford to look after you properly, do not fear.”

“I’m not worried,” she said, and her easy smile made his heart jump. Could he really be meant for someone so light and happy and pure?

“And tonight,” he said, feeling he needed to warn her. Her cheeks instantly flushed red, and he hurried on, keen that she not misunderstand his intentions. “I must warn you…since the war, I have rather vivid nightmares. I have been told that I shout out. I don’t want to alarm you…”

“Thank you for warning me,” she said, with no hint of fear. “Have you found anything that helps them?”

He shook his head. “I had hoped…I know it is ridiculous, but it was my reason for being in Bath, to take the waters. I hoped they might treat the way I react to loud noises, and the night terrors. But alas…”

He didn’t want her to see him as a weak man, but he wanted her to know the truth of the man she was marrying. He wasn’t trapping her into this marriage. She knew his faults, and she was the one who had said she was sure.

“Perhaps if you spoke about your time in France?” she suggested. “It may help to get it out, rather than it plaguing you at night.”

He shook his head. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

She nodded. “Well, I shan’t run from the room if you start shouting in the night.”

*