Excerpt from Book 1 (unnamed) of the Secrets of the Shroud series, the continuing adventures of the Avalon Society.
“If you would be so kind,
Miss Frost and explain why you are hiding in my carriage. If you could
elaborate even further, perhaps you will tell me why you are pointing a pistol
at me. When we waltzed last evening before your engagement to Lord Dinbeigh was announced at Mrs. Faversham’s Annual
Autumn Gala, I did not get the impression that you meant my person any, ah,
harm.” He was certain their closeness during the waltz had affected her in the
same manner it did him.
Francis Nightshade studied
the pale beauty seated across from him. Although clumsy and irritating, he had
never thought her unbalanced or insane. She was dressed in a fine fitting,
albeit it wrinkled, travelling gown of plum-colored velvet, her black hat sat a
bit askew, her pale silvery hair was mussed and trailing down on one side. Her
full lips were set in a grim line and her trembling hands held a large pistol, which
she aimed at his chest. While her appearance would support claims of a crazed
individual, he knew she was not a victim of lunacy. Miss Violet Frost was desperate.
He could see fear reflected in the depth of her indigo eyes along with what he
suspected was a glimmer of hope.
“Of course, Mr. Nightshade. I
am in your carriage because I am fleeing my uncle and marriage to old Lord
Dinbeigh. I had no idea that there was an engagement; certainly not that it
would be announced last evening. No one consulted me. I had no idea what my
uncle and Dinbeigh planned. You see, I do not wish to marry the man. Or any
man, really.”
“I can understand why a young
and lovely woman, like you, Miss Frost, would resist marrying an old, cold-hearted
codger like Dinbeigh, but it does not explain why you are in my carriage, or
why you are holding me at gunpoint. You must realize I will be accused of
kidnapping you. There are those who
will suspect we go to Scotland to marry.” As it happened, going to Scotland to
marry would be a perfect alibi as to why he was in Scotland. Hmm. It was an
idea definitely worth considering.
Violet Frost rolled her eyes.
“Oh, dear. I hadn’t thought of that.” She let go a heavy sigh. The pistol
lowered slightly, aiming at his midsection. She removed one hand from the handle
and brushed a pale strand of hair from her eyes.
“That does change things, and
possibly for the better, for me. Once you escort me to Scotland, I will take my
leave of you and disappear. I am certain my Uncle and Dinbeigh will think I did
marry you. There is a chance they will not pursue me because of that. If they
think I am married, there is nothing either one can do, is there? Excellent.” The
dimple in her right cheek showed when she smiled.
“You were not planning to force
me to the altar?” Nightshade asked. He truly did not think she was. Yet, he
enjoyed the irritation she so openly displayed when he asked his questions that
he did so, on purpose. He scarcely remembered the last time he had enjoyed a
waltz as much as he did last evening holding the prickly Miss Frost in his
arms. He had been at his best, needling her at every opportunity.
“Marry you?” Violet asked in surprise. “Good heavens, no!”
“I was certain that was what
you were about, hmm. I assure you it would take a pistol pointed at me to get
me to the altar, or the anvil.”
“I’ll have you know, sir, you
could make a worse choice in a wife than me. I assure you, I do not wish to
marry you or any man. Men only want to control a woman. After living with my
father, then my uncle and just what I’ve heard of Dinbeigh, I have no wish to
be controlled, by anyone, ever again.
Let me explain myself more clearly, Mr. Nightshade.” She moved the large pistol
to her other hand, keeping it pointed at him. She had no wish to shoot Francis
Nightshade. She wanted to make certain he had no intention of throwing her out
of the carriage or returning her to her uncle first.
“Please, by all means, explain,”
he remarked in a dry, sarcastic tone.
“As I mentioned earlier, I was
as surprised as everyone else about my engagement. I learned while returning
home from the ball last evening that Dinbeigh paid my uncle a large sum in
order to wed me. I was sold like a piece of horseflesh. I am certain you have
heard, no doubt all of London knows, there is no love lost between Old Frosty and me.”
“I pay no attention to gossip
and idle chatter, Miss Frost. I do not see what any of this has to do with me.”
That was a lie, he had to admit. He made a point to discover whatever he could
about Miss Violet Frost since she literally ran into him that day three weeks
ago. He didn’t know why, only that she irritated him so much, he wanted to know
more. He could explain the physical attraction. The woman was stunning, with
her pale skin, silvery hair and large eyes the color of the night sky. She was
slender and dainty, delicately boned. If not for her delectable curves (and shrewish tongue), she would appear
quite fragile.
“Quit interrupting me. If you
please, sir, I am trying to explain myself to you.” Violet arched a pale,
irritated brow at him.
“Of course, after one
question. Your hand is trembling, there is truly no need to hold me at gunpoint,
firstly because it is far too heavy a weapon for you and secondly, I believe
you know me well enough to know I will not harm you. My question to you is
this; do you even know how to shoot a pistol?”
“No, I have never fired a
pistol in my life. I believe it is simply a matter of pulling the trigger, sir.”
She raised the heavy weapon a
little higher to point at his chest again.
When he saw how her hands trembled
and he remembered her propensity for calamity and mishaps, he commanded, “Put
the damn thing down, Violet!”
“No. I never gave you
permission to call me by my Christian name, Mr. Nightshade. Furthermore, I do
not want you to stop the carriage and put me out. We are not far enough from
London yet. I know you won’t hurt me or abuse me, but I am not convinced you
won’t send me back to my uncle. I was trying
to explain. Will you please let me
continue?”
Nightshade nodded. “I am all
ears, Miss Frost.” Her aim lowered to
his midsection again as she began speaking.
“After I
was surprised by the announcement of my engagement to Dinbeigh last evening, I
knew I had to get away quickly. I remembered you said you were leaving for
Scotland this morning. I will not marry Dinbeigh, and I will not allow my uncle
to force another of his cronies on me as a husband. I could not get away on my
own, safely, in any case. My uncle gives me only a trifling allowance, though
my father’s will instructed I receive much more. Without funds, I could not get
far. I decided to come to Scotland with you. I will find a post as governess or
some such thing upon my arrival. I shall repay you for every cost of this
journey when I am able to do so. I never thought about forcing you into
marriage, why would I? You made it perfectly clear last evening that you are
not the marrying sort. I am not the
marrying sort. In addition, what little I already know of your character, I
have concluded that you like to be in control of every situation, and I’ve
already expressed my sentiments on that particular subject.”
Again, the pistol bobbed in
her trembling hand. He swore he saw her finger tighten on the trigger as she
tried to tighten her loosening grip on the weapon.
“Give me the damn gun, Violet! I have no plans to set you from my
carriage. I would not leave a lady by the side of the road unattended, nor would
I leave you to your own devices. With your propensity for accidents and clumsiness,
I don’t see how you could possibly make it ten miles without disaster ensuing.
I do not want to see any young woman marry Dinbeigh. Therefore, I offer my
assistance to escort you to your destination.” He started to smile at her then realized
she was glaring at him. And frowning. An angry frown. She was so prickly. Hot
one minute and looking at him like she wanted to…well he didn’t really know
what she wanted when she looked at him in that dewy-eyed way. He was left to
fantasize. Within seconds, she could turn angry and bitter, glaring at him as
if he had two heads. Like she was doing at this precise moment.
“I can change my mind and
shoot you now,” she huffed. “You have no manners, Mr. Nightshade. Propensity
for accidents and clumsiness. Really,”
she sniffed in displeasure. “A gentleman doesn’t say such things to a lady.”
“A lady doesn’t sneak into a gentleman’s
carriage, when he’s traveling to Scotland.”
Her displeasure at his
comment brought a victorious smile to his lips.
He continued, “In the three
weeks that I have known you, you have run into me, tripped me, nearly knocked
me over, and you very nearly took out my eye with your parasol. The fact that
you are clumsy and prone to accidents can’t be denied. If you do not approve of
my manners, Violet, I can take you back to London and leave you to marry
Dinbeigh. It would be my preference, actually. I am known for many things, but
I don’t want to add kidnapper and the debauching of an innocent to my numerous
and highly acclaimed, sinful accolades.”
“You are not going to debauch
me. I have a pistol. Pointed at you.”
The pistol end lowered from
aiming at his midsection to a place that caused Nightshade further alarm. She
wasn’t even paying attention to where the weapon was pointed. She continued with
her tirade.
“Besides, I much prefer to
suffer your company for a short trip to Scotland as opposed to marriage to
Dinbeigh for a lifetime.”
“I could take your pistol
with very little effort. I could debauch you, even persuade you that you wish
to be debauched,” Nightshade posed with a devilish grin. He was trying to
frighten her. When the vision of Miss Violet Frost writhing beneath him came to
him, it sent heat coursing through his body. To say he was bewildered by the powerful
effect this little moon-kissed, sharp-tongued beauty had on him was an
understatement. He didn’t like it. At all.
Violet now had both hands on
the pistol. “Wait just one minute. I am pointing a pistol at you, Mr.
Nightshade. I believe I am in charge here!” Violet’s dark blue eyes flashed
with anger then grew wide as the carriage hit a bump and the pistol slipped and
bobbled, nearly falling from her hands.
“Enough!” Nightshade growled.
He leaned forward and easily took the large, heavy pistol from her. He shoved
it beneath his seat. “If you aren’t concerned about killing me with that
blasted thing, please know you could just as easily shoot yourself. You don’t
need a pistol, Violet. I’m not taking you back to London. I’m not putting you
out of the carriage. I’m not letting you out of my bloody sight. When we reach
Scotland, we will be married. That will solve all of our problems.”
“What? It will certainly not
solve my problem, Mr. Nightshade. I
believe you have forgotten that I do not wish to marry. If I am forced to marry you, then that still presents
a problem for me.”
“Princess, you have only two
choices. Marry Dinbeigh, or marry me. I will honor whichever decision you make.
You are not the only one whose reputation is in danger at this moment. Did you
ever consider what your actions would do to my
reputation?”
She blushed profusely and at
least had the good grace to look remorseful.
“Aha, of course, you did not.
This is all about you. I have a very
important job to do in Scotland, and I do not wish to bring any more attention
to myself than necessary while there. I don’t think I have to remind you of my already
less than stellar reputation. I would prefer to keep my name from the gossips’ tongues.
Once we marry, you can send a message to your uncle and to Lord Dinbeigh that
you are now Mrs. Francis Nightshade. Neither one of them shall have any reason
to pursue you, nor any recourse to force you to do anything. If you are married, neither your uncle nor Dinbeigh have
any say in what you do or do not do. It is the only way you can escape the fate
that currently awaits you.”
It would be freedom, with the
exception of one thing. She would be married to Francis Nightshade. He would
have a say in what she did. Although, he was a very handsome man, with quite a
fine figure, Mr. Nightshade was a little surly and taciturn. And controlling. She did remember the
way he looked at her last evening when they waltzed. His eyes were so dark and
intense it was as if he was looking into her soul. She remembered how warm his
hand felt as it rested upon her back and the rush of energy she felt when his
thigh brushed hers. She shivered at the delicious memory.
“Can it be a marriage in name
only?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No! The marriage must be
consummated or it can be annulled.”
“Oh dear, what an absolute
mess this has become. I actually thought you could just escort me to Scotland
and let me go on about my business.” Violet frowned. “Will this be a real marriage? I thought you were
against marrying.”
“I was. You are correct,
Violet. I never planned to marry. Yet, I am in this predicament, thanks to you,
and the only resolution that I see to benefit each of us and save both our reputations is if we marry before we reach Edinburgh. Any marriage
is real and binding, even one performed in Scotland. As I said, it is of the
utmost importance that as little attention as possible is drawn to me while we
are in Edinburgh and wherever my journey may take us from there. I am tending
to a matter of great import. We shall marry as soon as we cross the border. That
will be in about four days depending on the weather.” He had decided a
honeymooning couple would prove to be a great cover for the real reason he was
going to Scotland.
He found it suddenly too warm
in the carriage. He told himself that marrying this pale, little princess would
not alter his life that much. After all, it wasn’t love that brought them to
the altar. He was on a mission. She was on the run. Aside from doing the
gentlemanly thing, for she was in his carriage and her reputation was already
ruined for that reason, this was truly a business arrangement for them. This
would be a good, solid cover for him while in Scotland. True she would still be
his wife after this mission was finished, and they would remain married, but
other than cohabiting, and hopefully, sharing a bed on occasion, they would
both be free to do as they chose in their lives. He believed the fact that theirs
was not a love match meant they could get along amicably. They could make their
union work to benefit them both. She would be free from the constraints of her
uncle and men who would use her as a pawn, have a generous allowance, and other
than performing the duties of wife and mistress of his homes, there was naught
else he required from her.
“Francis, I do not like that
we have to wed. You shall not try to control me, will you?”
“Do not call me Francis. No
one calls me, Francis.”
“Are we not to be wed?
Doesn’t a married woman have the right to call her husband by the familiar? You
insist on calling me Violet, I shall call you Francis.”
“No. One. Calls. Me. Francis,” he said through gritted teeth, “not
even you, Princess.”
“Then what should I call
you?”
A devilish gleam came to his
eyes. If he did not know that suggesting the words Lord and Master would send her jumping out the carriage door, he
would have suggested them just to see her reaction.
“You may call me Mr.
Nightshade.”
“Even after we have married?
How pompous you are.” She crossed her arms and glared at him.
He sighed. “Violet, I do not
like to be called Francis. Those who I am close to call me Shade or Nightshade,
it is that simple. You may call me one of those if you’d rather.”
“Very well, then. You may
call me Miss Frost now, and once we marry, I shall allow you to call me Mrs. Nightshade. Unless of course you
change your mind about marriage and let me go free upon our arrival in
Scotland.”
“No, Miss Frost, in order to save both our reputations, we must marry.”
Nightshade realized that
marrying Violet Frost might be a trifle more complicated than he initially
thought. If the fact that they were arguing over what to call one another was
any indication, he was in deep trouble. He sighed heavily. He could only hope
that he had not been wrong about the passion inside her. For he was now
sincerely hoping that once they married, he could at least keep her quiet in
the evenings by diverting her attention with more sensual pleasures. His
fantasies only included a silent Violet Frost who might utter a moan of
pleasure now and again when she was beneath or astride him, not an angry,
glaring beauty harping on him about every
little detail!
