03 - Dreams of Destiny Read online

  “And are you hungry, Gwyneth?”

  Their faces were so close. His blue eyes, heavy-lidded with sleep, stared into hers. The day’s growth of beard on his face was strangely appealing, and for a brief moment the memory of their kiss last night made her heart pound.

  Sanity returned in a rush with the thought of Sir Allan opening the carriage door to welcome her. She yanked free of David’s embrace and moved to where she could push him toward the door.

  “Of course I’m hungry,” she said, throwing open the door in the face of the surprised groom. “Starving, in fact.”

  She managed to push him out ahead of her. The rain had stopped, and patches of sun were peeking through the layers of clouds. Climbing out behind him, she immediately spotted the baronet standing by the doorway of the whitewashed brick tavern a few yards up the hill from where the carriage stopped. He saw her, too, and she was relieved to see him pause as David stretched to his full height and yawned. Gwyneth shook her head at Sir Allan, pointing to David’s back and shaking her head again. Two merchants who had just stepped out of the tavern glanced at her oddly, but she ignored them.

  As far as she knew, David and Sir Allan had never met, so another fear sprang up in her. What if the baronet, thinking David was just a stranger who had somehow forced his company on Gwyneth, decided to come to her aid? What if he even decided to challenge David? No, she reasoned. He would not be so foolhardy.

  “The food at the Spaniard’s Tavern is good enough,” David said, pointing to the door Ardmore was standing beside. In front of the tavern, a coach from London was having a fresh team of horses harnessed to it.

  She shook her head firmly and turned her back to it. “I do not like the looks of it. There must be another tavern.”

  Shaking his head, he took Gwyneth by the hand and pulled her behind him up the hill. She was horrified to see that the baronet was still standing there, watching them approach.

  One man had an elegant, almost feminine look about him; the other had features sharply hewn by war and weather. Sir Allan was dressed impeccably in a style that was the height of fashion. David’s clothes, though they fit him well, looked like he’d slept in them, as indeed he had. Their physical difference was the most upsetting thing, however, for they were as different as a willow hes of sun oak. No weapons would be needed. David’s bare hands would be enough to break Sir Allan in half.

  As they drew near the tavern entrance, she shook her head at the baronet, covering the movement by straightening the hood of her cloak when David glanced at her suspiciously.

  “Captain Pennington,” she said in a loud voice. “If we must travel together, you cannot expect me to have no say in where we eat.”

  David said nothing, but Gwyneth didn’t mind when she saw Ardmore turn on his heel and walk away from the door. She was relieved that he had recognized the name.

  There were no private dining rooms available. Looking about the tavern, she saw there were a number of ladies seated with other parties. Only half of the tables inside were occupied. She didn’t care which one David chose. She also made no complaint when he ordered breakfast for both of them.

  “I assume you plan to come to Gretna Green with me,” she began when the serving woman went off to fetch their food. “But we must travel five days to arrive there, and you’ve brought no change of clothes with you. And frankly, David, you look absolutely horrid after your riotous carousing last night. You should really think of some way to amend that.”

  He was paying no attention to her. Instead, she realized he was studying every person in the tavern, searching for his prey. A uniformed cavalry officer, sitting alone by a window, immediately drew his attention. The man had been watching them from the moment they stepped inside. He nodded curtly at David and then turned back to his meal.

  “He is already here, isn’t he?” David asked in a low voice.

  “No, he is not,” she whispered.

  “You were planning to meet him here,” he asserted. “’Twill not take five days to settle this. ‘Twill take only five minutes, I should think.” He rose to his feet.

  Gwyneth grabbed his arm. “David, where are you going?”

  “I am going to introduce myself to someone…unless you have something to tell me.”

  She shook her head. “David, I…”

  He pulled away, moving toward the unsuspecting cavalry officer.

  At that moment, the thought occurred to her that if she did not care for the thickheaded man, she might have walked out of the tavern at that very moment and escaped with Sir Allan Ardmore, who was certainly waiting in the vicinity. Instead, Gwyneth found herself dashing after David. She caught up to her self-appointed protector just as he arrived at the other man’s table. The officer immediately stood. The stranger was nearly David’s size. She glanced at the man’s fisted hands. They appeared to be as big as hams.

  “My apologies, sir,” she interrupted quickly, grabbing David’s arm. “My husband here has mistaken you for…for a brother he lost during the Seven Years War.” She successfully shoved herself between them. “And yesterday, he suffered a fall from a horse, striking his head. Why, I only found him this morning. And as you can tell from his appearance, he is still somewhat confused.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Indeed, I fear he will try to fight you…as he enjoyed an occasional bout with his late sibling. So I am begging you to ignore whatever nonsense he says and kindly allow me to take him back to his seat.”

  As she turned to try to steer David away from the stranger, she realized that the officer was looking at her as if she were the one who had fallen on her head. She glanced up at David and found him looking at her oddly, as well.

  “Captain Pennington.” The man extended a hand past her to David. “I wasn’t sure that was you. Seeing you out of uniform threw me, sir.”

  “Lieutenant Chadwick.”

  She felt about as intelligent as yesterday’s porridge. As the two brutes chatted over her head, Gwyneth tried to edge away. But David draped an arm over her shoulder, forcing her to remain where she was. And what in heaven’s name was she thinking in trying to save him? He was ruining her plans, complicating her life. She should have walked away when she’d had the chance. She should have run.

  “…Miss Gwyneth Douglas.”

  She realized David was finally getting around to introducing her. She looked up in embarrassment into the officer’s smiling face. “I must apologize for the theatrics, Lieutenant. But my two ambitions in life are to perform on stage and to inflict severe pain on your friend, Captain Pennington. Now, if you would be kind enough to forget we ever met, I shall just slink off to our table.”

  Ignoring Chadwick’s laughter, Gwyneth shrugged off David’s arm and left the two men. Sir Allan had not returned to the tavern. She considered attempting an escape even now, but decided against it. She couldn’t bear the thought of another embarrassment, as David would undoubtedly chase her around the tables if she attempted to leave without him.

  The food was brought to the table, and she immediately began to eat. Her self-appointed warden didn’t deserve any courtesy from her. He was quick to appear though.

  “Well, is he here?” he asked, digging into the food, as well.

  Gwyneth looked around the room, hoping to find some beastly and dangerous looking man to push him toward. Instead, she nearly choked when Sir Allan entered the tavern and sat at the next table. David’s chair backed up to the baronet’s.

  “No,” she managed to get out, wondering what she had done to deserve being surrounded by such dull-witted men. The baronet knew about Emma and her marriage to the eldest Pennington brother. He was also well aware that Greenbrae Hall was the nearest neighboring estate to Baronsford, the Pennington family seat.

  “’Twas certainly a surprise to find you in that tavern this morning, Captain Pennington,” she said loudly, knowing that Sir Allan was now listening to every word.

  “You mean last night. We cannot forget about
last night.”

  She blushed despite herself and glared at him. “I would think you might forget about that, since you were hardly in full use of your senses when you arrived at my door. I believe even someone as ungentlemanly as you would not wish it known that you ended up sleeping in my bed, while I was forced to sit uncomfortably in a chair for the entire night.”

  “As you know, you were more than welcome to join me there.” His gaze caressed her face and moved admiringly down the front of her dress. “I could have been easily persuaded to make room for you.”

  At any other time in her life, she actually might have been thrilled with his flirtatious manner. After all, this was David Pennington, the same man she had followed around for years like an adoring pup. The same one who had never shown any romantic interest in her, always treating her like a child…until now.

  “I wish you would put an end to such foolishness.” She leaned toward him, lowering her voice. “Your teasing could be interpreted as improper by anyone overhearing this conversation.”

  He leaned forward, too. “I am surprised to hear that you give a tinker’s damn about propriety, considering what you were planning to do.”

  “You mean what I still plan to do,” she retorted angrily.

  “Of course, which brings us back to why I am here. To escort you to Gretna Green and your rendezvous, but not before I find your lover and wring the vile rascal’s neck.”

  “You shall do no such thing.”

  “Indeed I shall. In fact, I am very much looking forward to meeting this lying and cheating scoundrel who hasn’t the decency to ask for your hand properly, this coward who hopes to make his fortune by compromising you in such a way that you have no option but to meet his every demand. This false hearted, two-faced…”

  Gwyneth planted her elbows on the table and hid her face in her hands as Ardmore rose to his feet. David continued to rant, and she knew the baronet was certain to die the moment he turned to their table. He would call David out, they would fight, and Sir Allan’s blood would be on her hands as surely as if she herself had run him through or put a bullet in his heart.

  Her own foolishness in trying to go through with her plans after she’d been found out by David added to her guilt. She should have stayed in London. A few days would not have mattered much. The latest blackmail letter she’d received had given her a month to respond. She and Sir Allan could have rearranged their elopement for a later time.

  David continued to assail her future husband’s character, but Gwyneth heard no tables or chairs upended, no angry retort from Sir Allan. She peeked though her hands and found Ardmore had gone out without so much as a word.

  He couldn’t have.

  She dropped her hands and looked around her. He really was gone. Only out of the tavern though, she quickly assured herself. Sir Allan wouldn’t walk out of her life over something as insignificant as a threat. He had simply been too much of a gentleman to embarrass her here in public. Sitting back in her chair, she realized that Ardmore must have reached the same conclusion as she did herself—that they would try to rendezvous later. She looked back at the boor before her.

  “I was able to tolerate your interfering much better when you were doing it silently.” Despite his tirade, he’d somehow managed to finish his platter of food as well as what was left on hers. “I am ready to go.”

  She grabbed her cloak and tried to rise to her feet, but his large paw clamped around her wrist, forcing her back into her chair.

  “You will wait until I have settled our bill with the proprietor,” he said.

  The rain was finished when they left the Spaniard's Tavern, and the sun shone brightly overhead. The number of people in the streets of the bustling little village had grown. She searched the faces, looking up and down the street. There was no sign of the baronet.

  “I wish to return to London,” she announced as they walked back to the carriage.

  “Is that so? Well, we are not returning to London.”

  “You cannot force me to go to Gretna Green!” she replied, her temper flaring. “I said I wish to return to my aunt. I have already realized the error of my ways. I no longer wish to elope.”

  A few passersby actually stopped at a discreet distance and stared at them. Gwyneth realized that those watching could only assume that he was forcing her to go through an improper marriage. This had real possibilities.

  “I beg of you, Captain,” she wailed louder. “Please! I cannot bear to be away from them. They’ll shun me. Please return me to my family.”

  “No.”

  “But you know I am underage. I cannot marry without my family’s consent. Do not force me. Please take me back to them.”

  “Not while you’re unwed and with child, my dear.” With a roguish grin, he pulled her into his arms in front of everyone. She hadn’t time to recover from his outrageous lie when he kissed her hard on the lips. “Despite your ruined reputation and the fact that you are carrying some other man’s child, I am gentleman enough to do the right thing.”

  “Why, you—”

  Before she could say another word, she found herself lifted bodily and literally tossed into the carriage.

  *****

  She was nothing like the saucer-eyed lassie he had once known. Outrageous, stubborn, peculiar, Gwyneth was much more of a challenge than he could have ever imagined. Despite it all, though, he was not about to back down from his threat.

  During the few minutes he had spent in Lady Cavers’ townhouse in London, David had learned that Gwyneth’s aunt had left for Bristol two days earlier. But as was characteristic of the older woman, her plans were vague. The servants did not know…or would not say…where she was staying or for how long. They only told him that, depending on the weather and the crowd in Bristol, she would consider foregoing the spa town and instead go on to the estate of one of her friends in the countryside. The only thing that had been certain about her ladyship’s plans was that she would eventually be returning to Greenbrae Hall in Scotland, where Gwyneth was supposed to be awaiting her.

  That was where David intended to take Gwyneth, where he would to drop her in Augusta’s lap.

  Taking a direct route there or adding a day and half to their travels to pass through Gretna Green was another matter entirely. In spite of his threats, he didn’t care so much to hunt down the villain who she’d planned to elope with. Not that he wasn’t willing to engage the cad in a fight if they were to meet on the road. Still, it was Gwyneth’s attitude in deciding against going to Gretna Green that had made the decision for David. Her fate was sealed. Just to spite her, they were going to Gretna Green and he was going to enjoy every minute added to their travels.

  David watched her, sitting in the opposite corner of the carriage, her notebook open on her lap, her pencil scratching madly across the page in spite of the occasional bouncing and lurching of the carriage. Her gaze occasionally drifted off the page to the passing countryside, and a moment later returned purposefully back to the notebook.

  She was quite a sight. Her red curls were in total disarray. An impish smile occasionally appeared on the corner of her sensual lips. The sprinkling of freckles on her upturned nose was more attractive than ever. One thing he’d failed to admit before now was that he was not immune to her newly blossomed beauty. There was even something quite charming in her hardheaded, forthright manner.

  “You haven’t given up your writing,” he commented. His earlier headache was nearly gone, and his full stomach put him in much better mood. “Is it a journal you are working on or one of your old tales?”

  Her green eyes met his. “’Tis a true story, a narrative of my own life. I was just about to draw-and-quarter you.” She went back to scratching away in her notebook.

  David was tempted to reach over and steal her book and read for himself what she was writing about, but as if she were reading his mind, she quickly closed it and held it against her chest. She looked out the window. They were on the outskirts of a city.

&
nbsp; “I see we are arriving at St. Albans,” she announced, looking at him expectantly.

  He glanced at the houses and shops they were passing. “I told the driver that, except for changing horses, we would make no more stops until we reached Northampton.”

  “I wasn’t asking for anything,” she replied. “I was only making the announcement for your own good. You know…St Albans? Hertfordshire? Melbury Hall?”

  He continued to stare at her.

  She slid along the seat until she was directly across from him. “You do know about your brother Lyon’s marriage, do you not?”

  “Of course,” he said curtly. He had received a letter from their mother about it, followed by a letter from Lyon, himself. Lyon was recovering from his injuries after the fall from the cliffs. He appeared happy in his second marriage, which had been arranged by their mother, the dowager.

  It had been a marriage of convenience for the benefit of both parties. The union had been intended to bring financial relief to Millicent Wentworth, a widower who was trying to dig her way out of the financial ruin her late husband had left her in. Lyon would gain someone to look after his injuries, and Melbury Hall, her estate just north of London, would offer him a place to live away from Baronsford.

  The letters clearly led David to believe that both of them had gotten a great deal more than they had bargained for. The descriptions portrayed a state of marital bliss.

  David had sent a very brief congratulatory note and had then successfully put Lyon’s situation out of his mind. He had just come to prefer avoiding certain memories of his life. The death of Emma, Lyon’s first wife, was one of them.

  She had fallen from the cliffs overlooking the River Tweed at Baronsford. Lyon’s badly injured body was lying next to hers when Pierce found them. He and their cousin, Walter Truscott, had been the ones who brought them up. Some called it an accident. Many tht was murder. Lyon had been terribly injured in the fall, and the doctors had warned that the earl would most likely be crippled for life…however long that should be. Due to the care of his new wife, though, Lyon had ultimately recovered.