Read Online The Kidnapped Bride by Amanda Scott - Free Book Online

then drove oh around the house. She expected his lordship to come to her immediately, but he did not. Instead, after a long wait, Tom came with a small trunk.
    “My lord says as ’ow yer t’ dine with ’im in an hour, miss. ’E sent these.” He dumped the trunk onto the floor and left, taking the dog with him. No key turned in the lock. Sarah stared after them, torn between wanting to find Darcy and hear what had happened and wanting to see what was in the trunk. The trunk won.
    She opened it and sat back on her heels with a smile. It was filled with her own things. There were several gowns, a night dress, her riding habit and boots, two lace chemises, and her silver hairbrush. Right on top sat the reticule she had left in the carriage. There were also various ribbons and two pairs of sandals, some scented French soap, a string of varicolored beads, and a pair of white silk mittens. Clearly, except for the reticule, Lizzie had packed the trunk and had tried to include things her mistress might need immediately. She had not thought to send a shawl, so she had not discovered Emma , but one of the gowns was for evening wear. Sarah shook it out.
    It was a simple dress of white muslin, the type most solidly approved by Aunt Aurelia for young ladies in their first Season. High waisted, it would be worn with a long pink sash, the colored beads, and her pink satin sandals. Maybe she could even contrive to weave a ribbon through her hair. Oh, if he had to bring her a surprise, why had Darcy not thought to bring Lizzie!
    The thought had simply never crossed his mind. And, of course, it would never have occurred to her uncle that she might have need of a maidservant. At dinner, Darcy seemed actually apologetic about the oversight but explained that his plan had otherwise gone without a hitch. Lord Hartley had reacted precisely to form. “Furious, of course. Couldn’t expect him to be otherwise. ’Fraid you must prepare yourself for a scold, m’dear. That is, if he ever speaks to you again,” he observed amiably.
    “What did he say about the wedding?” Sarah asked. A scold from her uncle was not something she need worry about. A blistering reprimand from her aunt was much more likely, though it was even more probable that neither of them would want to see her again. She gazed now across the table at Darcy. He was dressed in a coat of black superfine, and his well-starched neckcloth was intricately tied and adorned with a pearl stick pin. He might complain of poverty, but he always dressed well, and the phaeton she had seen was a well-made vehicle pulled by a team of highbred, matched bays. His voice interrupted her train of thought.
    “Signed the waiver and helped me himself to arrange for the special license. S’pose it was a sense of mischief inspired me to suggest St. George’s.” He paused with a reminiscent gleam in his eye. “’Fraid his lordship nearly went into strong convulsions. Turned red as a turkey cock and gobbled something about the Regent and Lady Jersey, though I had thought that affair long ended.”
    Sarah frowned. “You know perfectly well what he meant, sir. The Prince will be displeased as it is not to be invited to my wedding, but to be asked to lend his countenance to a ceremony with this sort of scandal attached to it—well, he wouldn’t, and you know it. As for Lady Jersey, she is forever unsettling Aunt Aurelia’s sensibilities with her long tongue.”
    He nodded. “Discovered that m’self. Suggested that your absence from Town might be hushed up or at least that an excuse might be found for it, so as to wrap things up nicely after we’re safely riveted, but that don’t appear possible now. Seems one of the shopkeepers noticed a pretty young lady climb into a shabby hackney coach, and your precious Lizzie burst in upon Lady Hartley bewailing your disappearance and putting forth the notion that you had been abducted by God knows what sort of wild ruffians.” He paused for effect.