Weddings of the Century: A Pair of Wedding Novellas(2)
"Why, we'll run away and be married, my love."
Her eyes widened. "I couldn't do that! There would be the most dreadful scandal."
He arched his brows. "You wouldn't risk a scandal to become my wife?"
She bit her lip. What he was asking went against every principle of morality and propriety. To elope would be to carry a stigma for the rest of their lives. And yet ... Softly she said, "For that, I would dare anything."
His smile returned. "Then it's a bargain, my darling vixen. If your father refuses, we'll head for Gretna Green. You'll be the most lovely bride in Britain. Promise?"
Praying it would not come to that, she said, "I promise."
He gave her a last, lingering kiss, then turned to leave the drawing room so he could go to her father's study. As Roxanne watched him leave, a chill ran through her, a premonition that something would go horribly wrong.
Though her father was so absorbed in studying his bones and bits of pottery that he scarcely spoke to her, he did like having her around to order the household and write his letters. He hated change, and his first reaction would be to refuse any offer.
It wouldn't help that Dominick had a reputation for wildness and he was universally considered too handsome and charming for his own good. Yet Dominick was right that he was an entirely eligible suitor. In fact, he was something of a catch for quiet Roxanne Mayfield, if the truth be known.
Surely in time her father would come around. All they needed was patience.
Her hands clenched. And if patience wasn't enough, well, there was always Gretna Green.
*
After entering the study, Dominick spent several minutes shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot before he cleared his throat and said, "Sir William?"
The baronet lifted his head and stared balefully at his visitor. "Who are you and what do you want?"
Sir William Mayfield was a renowned student of primitive civilizations, and Dominick had assumed he was an absentminded scholar. But as he looked into Mayfield's cold eyes, he suddenly understood Roxanne's trepidation. This was not going to be easy.
He thought of Roxanne's sweet laughing spirit and warmth, her slim body and tantalizing red hair, the way she made him feel complete and happy, and he cleared his throat again. "Sir William, my name is Dominick Chandler, and I would like your permission to pay my addresses to Miss Mayfield."
Pure shock washed over the baronet. Leaning back in his chair, he said, "Of the Wiltshire Chandlers?"
Thinking it a good sign that her father knew of his family, Dominick said, "Yes, sir. My father was Charles Chandler, and I am heir to my uncle, Viscount Chandler."
His pale eyes like ice, the baronet said without inflection, "So you wish to marry my daughter. You're what, twenty-one or twenty-two?"
"Twenty-one, sir."
"And Roxanne is eighteen." With startling suddenness, Mayfield's calm manner erupted into rage. His face reddening, he snarled, "Do you seriously think I will allow my daughter to ruin her life by marrying a worthless, debt-ridden, dishonorable wastrel like you?"
Dominick stiffened, stunned by the virulence of the attack. Controlling his temper with effort, he said, "I'll admit that I've sometimes been intemperate, sir, but I'm not debt-ridden. I've inherited a competence from a great-aunt, and I'm about to take up an appointment with the East India Company. When my uncle dies, I'll inherit his title and a very pretty property. You won't have to worry about your daughter's future, sir. "
Mayfield leaped to his feet. Though he was inches shorter than Dominick, his fury made him menacing. "There has never been a Chandler worth the powder to blow him to hell! You're a bad colt from a bad stable, boy, and I don't want you near Roxanne! Do you understand me? I forbid you ever to see my daughter again!"
Dominick felt the blood drain from his face. Thank God Roxanne had already agreed to elope with him. That was not the way he had wanted to start their marriage, but if an elopement was necessary ...
Guessing his thoughts, Sir William growled, "Don't think that you can get around me, Chandler. I will discharge my daughter's worthless chaperone, and from this day forward she will not be allowed out of my house without two escorts. Men, not simpering females who might be taken in by you. Every servant on this estate, every laborer, will be told to give the alarm if you appear. The gamekeepers will be instructed to shoot on sight. By God, I'll put man traps around the property! Step in one of those and it will cut you in half. You'll never see her again, boy! Resign yourself to that fact."
Dominick had aroused exasperation in many, and occasionally anger, but never anything like this. Bewildered, he asked, "Is it me that you hate, or would you feel the same about any man who wanted to marry Roxanne?"
"Both. My daughter is mine, and she belongs here at Maybourne. But it's a special pleasure to deny you. I knew and hated your father. He was just as handsome, just as selfish, just as arrogant, as you." Mayfield's face worked angrily. "He ruined the girl I loved! She killed herself after he betrayed her by marrying your mother, who was an heiress. I was never able to make him pay for his sins, and now he's beyond my reach, frying in hell. But the sins of the father are visited on future generations, and the good Lord has given me the opportunity to inflict a small measure of justice on you. I've waited many years for this moment."