ELEVEN
THE SUN WAS setting, painting the sky in muted tones as they made their way to Trick’s home in the impressive two-seater caleche he’d driven to Cainewood. Borrowed, most likely, Kendra thought, along with the matched bay horses…at least she fervently hoped he hadn’t stolen them.
A furtive glance to the rear convinced her they weren’t being followed—she wasn’t being rescued—by any of her brothers. “I cannot believe it,” she said.
Trick gave her a long, considered look before responding in that characteristic unhurried way of his. “You cannot believe what?”
“I cannot believe I’m married. It happened so fast.”
He raked a hand through his shining hair. “Why did you go through with it?”
“I didn’t think it was real. Even now, I’m half-expecting one of my brothers to ride up laughing at their masterful joke.”
“They’re not coming,” Trick said.
“I know.” And she knew as well that some tiny part of her had wondered if the wedding might be real all along, and even—maybe—hoped that it was. Of all the men she’d encountered in her life, Trick was the only one with whom she’d ever felt a sort of magic.
But that didn’t stop her from wanting to sink her claws into her too-clever brothers. How dare they cook up a scheme like this behind her back?
And what on earth could they mean by marrying her to a known outlaw? He could be a murderer, for all she knew! His rapier rode in the sword belt on his right. Her brothers carried weapons as well, of course, but they didn’t draw and use them on a daily basis.
Her teeth ached from clenching them. Consciously relaxing her jaw, she took a deep breath. “I know they’re not coming. I’m so furious with them, I swear I won’t speak to them for weeks. But I still cannot believe it. All along, I was certain this was a prank.” That desperate conviction had helped her cope all the day, and it was frightening to let go of it. “I thought they were trying to teach me a lesson.”
Trick turned to her, a hint of a smile on his wide mouth. “Are you due to be taught a lesson?”
“No!” Why did his tone make her so flustered? “They refused to tell me whether you’re titled. Are you? Who are you?”
“I’m your husband,” he said carefully. “And I agree with your brothers that that’s all you need to know for now.”
Kendra glared at him through the growing dark. He was as bad as they were—worse, in fact. She was accustomed to her family meddling in her life, but what right had this virtual stranger to do the same? It was beginning to dawn on her that “magic” might not be near enough to sustain a marriage. “I can vow not to talk to you as well.”
“Who said I was interested in talking tonight?”
His tone sent more tingles down her spine, but, realizing his game, she held on to her anger. Perhaps with other girls he’d been able to seduce his way out of trouble, but that wouldn’t work on her! “Who said I’m interested in what you’re interested in?” she snapped.
“Oooh, clever riposte.”
With a noise of disgust, she crossed her arms and turned her back on him—for a moment. In truth, she was too old for such petulance. They both were. She sighed. “My brothers manipulated you, too, you know. Aren’t you angry?”
“Aye, a bit perhaps.” He guided the caleche off the main road, onto a less-traveled path. “But not overmuch. And not at you. I know this isn’t your fault.” When Kendra faced him, his gaze softened, and his words took on the lilt of his homeland. “It’s not such a bad bargain I’ve made, aye?”
Kendra blushed wildly, thankful for the cover of darkness. A fair bargain, was she? She couldn’t think of anything to say in return to such a statement, so she remained silent, hugging herself.
Perhaps thinking she was cold, Trick wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She should be terrified, she thought vaguely. She knew little of men in an intimate way, and even less about Trick…besides that he was dangerous.
But his warmth was oddly comforting. She scooted closer, and when his long fingers rubbed up and down her arm, she leaned against him, thinking about when she first saw him and how she’d wanted him to notice her. Remembering yesterday in the cottage, and the thrilling moment when they’d nearly kissed. Today they finally had, and kissing him had been even better than she’d imagined. But now it was their wedding night, and she could only wonder: what came next?
She’d barely grown comfortable against him when the caleche bumped off the path and over a grassy knoll, following a faint trail that led to the cottage. Windows glowed in the distance, the lamps inside already lit.
The cottage looked warm and welcoming, but as they rolled to a stop, she tensed. Tonight she’d become his wife in more than just name, and, despite her curiosity, she wasn’t sure she could go through with it. Caithren’s words kept rumbling around in her head.
You should know it will hurt…
He helped her down and guided her inside with a hand at the small of her back, touching her where she wasn’t used to being touched. The door shut behind them, but he didn’t remove his hand.
He was close. Much too close. His gaze locked on hers, his heat penetrating the small space between them. She could smell a soap-fresh masculine scent—sandalwood, if she wasn’t mistaken. She wouldn’t expect a highwayman to use imported soap, but then, little about any of this had matched her expectations.
Just when she thought she might panic, he turned away. “I’m going to settle the horses, aye?” Before she could react, he was out the door.
How could this be happening to her?
Her fashionable high Louis-heeled shoes made a loud, unnerving sound
