Evan squatted down and gave the lad a hug. “I promise I will care for your sister, Jason. In fact, I hope that you and your mother to come and live with us in Epsom.”
Charlotte smiled at him and leaned over to place a kiss on Jason’s head. She released his hand and clasped Evan’s, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, her other hand tucked safely within his. As Evan reached for the door, the doors flew open in front of them.
“Uncle!” Charlotte gasped. “What are you doing here?” Her voice betrayed her panic.
“I should ask you that, my dear niece. What are you doing here? This”—he waved his hand toward Evan—“is not your betrothed.” His face became mottled in anger. “How could that be? I am your guardian and I never agreed to this arrangement,” he raged.
“I am not betrothed, Uncle. I am married.” Charlotte squared her shoulders. “And at one and twenty years, the decision is not yours.”
“And now she belongs to me,” Evan spoke up. Charlotte’s age had never entered his mind. He had not expected the baron to show up at their wedding. How did Langdale find them? Everyone had been so careful. Unwilling to believe anyone in his household would have sabotaged the day, he wondered if someone had tipped him off in the court system. Yesterday, he sent for the paperwork from the Court of Chancery necessary to move Jason’s guardianship from Langdale to him once their marriage had taken place. While it probably had not been necessary, perhaps someone had asked for the details.
It mattered not. Banbury promised to ensure his barrister, Franklin, delivered it today along with proof that showed the baron was stealing the young lord’s funds for his own use. The barrister had the proof and a vested interest in this family and would not let him down.
Seeing the baron edge forward, Evan stepped in front of his wife. “She is my wife, and you have no legal right to betroth her to anyone.”
Seizing the opportunity, the baron grabbed his nephew’s hand and began pulling him from the church. “You are leaving with me, Jason.” The boy resisted, and Langdale slapped him and pulled harder.
Jason screamed and dug in his heels. “No! Charlotte! Mummy!” he cried. “I will not go with you, Uncle.”
“You will not take this child,” Evan seethed. He lent his considerable muscle and pulled the boy away from his uncle. “You, sir, are no gentleman,” he spoke in a low tone, grabbing Langdale’s arm and twisting it high behind his back.
“Ow! Let me go!” the baron screamed.
“When I do, you will have one chance to crawl back into your hole before you do something you will live to regret,” he said with a dangerous edge.
“Wait!” Lady Romney pushed her way in front of the newly married couple. “This is for you, dear brother.” She drew back and punched the baron in the face. Satisfied, she held her son to her side, hugging him. “Leave my son alone. What have you done to instill fear in him, Aaron? What kind of monster have you become?” Lady Romney glared at her brother.
“You punched me. You bitch!” he growled, pulling back his fist, preparing to hit Lady Romney.
Evan stepped in front of her and grabbed his arm before the baron could land a punch.
“You are not here for his welfare. You are here for his birthright,” she snapped.
The baron lunged once more for the boy, and her new husband grasped his hand. “Leave here at once,” Evan seethed. “I am petitioning the court for immediate guardianship of my new little brother. I suggest you leave, now!”
“You have not heard the end of this! I am his guardian. You had better deliver Lord Romney to my residence by three o’clock tomorrow,” he shouted.
“Charlotte, take Jason to Banbury’s carriage. I will meet you out there.” Evan regretted the frustration in his voice. It had nothing to do with his new wife.
Banbury stepped from behind him with Lord Rivers. “We will take care of this. You and your new bride should be off.” The two men secured the baron.
“We have the baron and will hold him until you and your party are safely away from here.” Lord Rivers nodded toward the baron’s carriage. “We will not let him go until your party is safely away.”
“This will not be the last you see of me,” Langdale screamed after them.
Chapter Ten
This day had been full of surprises. Her mother had punched her uncle in a church.
The silence after that blow had stunned everyone, especially her uncle. Her uncle, who thought her mother had been losing her mind, had been educated by a woman mourning the loss of her husband—definitely not a muddled woman. He vowed they had not seen the last of him. Charlotte believed him.
She was married. It had happened so quickly that she lightly pinched her arm to make sure she was not asleep. No, she could definitely feel the pinch. It might even bruise, she mused, moving her hand down and touching the wedding ring she now wore, rolling it around on her finger. Evan had surprised her with his generosity and his thoughtfulness, the note, and the intimate service he had created. It was all more than she had expected, as was her husband . . . much more than she had expected. She glanced out the corner of her eye and caught him watching, smiling with a hint of amusement. Caught.
“Evan, thank you,” she managed softly. “I could not have imagined such contentment.” She wished she could say love. Perhaps that would come with time. She wanted the love match of her parents; for now, she felt contentment for the happiness on her
