Page 46 of Wicked Highland Heroes

Chapter Eight

“There is no turning back.”

Fury swept through Eve. Lord Blane had said much the same thing when they’d made their mad dash for Gretna Green. She’d believed him and had accepted the logic that consummating their union before the vows were taken was the only way to ensure that no one could stop their marriage.

In truth, while her father had paid Lord Blane to disappear, it had been his father who caught up with them. The earl planned for his son to marry a rich heiress, not a baron’s daughter with a meager income. She’d often wondered if Blane had hoped that the accusation she was pregnant would force their fathers to allow them to marry after they’d returned to England. The fact was, however, his father had done her a great service by forbidding the marriage because Blane would have made a terrible husband—far worse than Lord Rushton.

Lord Halifax would be worse than the two put together.

“Lord Halifax, I will not marry you.”

He shrugged. “I can bribe someone to marry us. These Scots allow anyone to claim they are married as long as there’s a witness.”

“I do not understand,” she said. “You expressed no wish to marry. In fact, you have vigorously avoided marriage for thirty-eight years.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I admit that I have no love for the institution, but—” The carriage slowed and he lifted the curtain and looked outside. “Damn, I see the church spire in the distance.” He dropped the curtain. “We had better get this over with.”

“This?” Eve repeated, but needed no explanation when he shifted onto the cushion beside her. She scooted closer to the door. “This has gone far enough.”

“We both know this isn’t the first time you’ve spread your legs for a man in a carriage. Everyone knows Blane took your maidenhead during your last trip to Gretna Green and there is no telling how many other men you have accommodated since.”

Eve slapped him. His eyes widened, then narrowed, not with anger, but with a shrewd glint that frightened her.

“Had I known of your predilection for violence, we would have done this long ago.”

“I will not agree to be your wife,” she snapped. “Nor will I...do anything else.”

He gave her a malicious smile. “But you will, for your father won’t believe you didn’t beg me to fuck you in order to ensure I married you.”

Eve’s shock at his crude language was shoved aside by the chilling realization that Lord Halifax had concluded what she should have deduced the moment he kidnapped her: her father would kill him.

Panic sent her heart pounding. “My lord, you need not concern yourself about my father. He will not take to heart this jest.”

“Do you think I am a fool?” Lord Halifax yanked her against him. “We have little time, so you will forgive me for not savoring you this first time.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Eve tried to twist free, but his arms tightened painfully around her. “I will have you thrown into Newgate.”

“A husband can do with his wife what he chooses.” His hot breath washed over her face.

“You will never be my husband.” She drew a breath to scream and he gave her a rough kiss to the mouth.

Eve jerked her head aside, but he grabbed the side of her head and forced her still as he shoved his tongue into her mouth. She half screamed, half gagged, and he groaned in response. He yanked her across his lap and pinned her against his body with one arm while he jammed his free hand between her legs. Eve instinctively clamped her legs together, but his fingers were like iron and rammed between her clenched thighs.

She bucked and became aware of his hard length beneath her buttocks. Her stomach roiled. She yanked her knee up and, in the instant before her knee made contact with his cheek, felt the cruel, hard probe of his fingers in her tender folds. Pain radiated up her leg when her kneecap made contact with his cheekbone. He cried out and his hold loosened. Eve shoved away from him and thudded to the floor onto her backside.

“Damn you.” He seized her arm.

“Re-lease me!”

A cry went up from the driver. Eve thought he’d heard the commotion. She knew a sudden urge to cry in relief—then the carriage sped up. Lord Halifax tumbled from the seat onto her. His weight knocked the breath from her and she gasped for air. He grabbed her shoulders and pinned her to the floor. Eve had the fleeting thought that he couldn’t possibly lay between her legs on the small space of the floor and she thought she heard another shout, this one some distance off.

“I will beat you,” Lord Halifax hissed.

Eve clawed at his face. He screamed like a schoolgirl as she raked her nails down his left cheek. Another shout outside, this one louder, and the carriage listed hard to the right, then rocked to a stop. The door flew open. Lord Halifax blocked her view, but Eve saw large fingers seize his coat at the shoulder, then he was up and off her as he tumbled backwards out of the coach.

Eve scrambled to her knees, then grabbed the handle near the door and shoved through the opening, nearly falling out and onto the ground. She righted herself and took in the few thatched roofs, clay cottages, an inn, and church that surrounded them. She gave a small cry when Oscar and Lord Somerset jumped from their horses while Lord Rushton yanked Lord Halifax off the ground by his collar.

Two men rushed from the nearest cottage as the earl drove a fist into Lord Halifax’s stomach. Halifax doubled over with a groan. He retreated and Lord Rushton matched him step for step, throwing a punch to his chin, then another to his stomach. More men emerged from cottages, but no one tried to stop the fight and Eve realized with growing horror that they were accustomed to the sight of brawls in their square when an angry parent or brother caught up with a would-be groom.