Rexanne Becnel - Scandalous Weddings

She slapped him.

He deserved it. But though he wanted to apologize to her, he did not. This attraction between them must be killed. It had begun too abruptly. It would have to end in the same manner. So he stepped back from her and gave an abbreviated bow. "I'll leave you now."

When he reached the door, however, she called out. "I'm not turning back, Lord Hartley. You can't scare me off so easily as 3JI that."

He did not think he had. But Harrison kept his own counsel. He did not look back at her or respond in any way. He left and sought his own room where he and a bottle of whisky proceeded to spend a long, restless night together.

How was he to get rid of the difficult Jinx Benchley? He'd kissed her, a stupid move, given who she was and the circumstances of their relationship. He'd seen her naked and run his hands over her delectable body, compounding his stupidity tenfold. Still, he'd not totally compromised her. Somehow he'd managed not to do anything he could not undo.

He stared up at the ceiling, disgusted with himself. He wanted her even though he knew she was not the sort of woman a man could seduce with impunity. But logic fell short when it came to his reaction to Jinx. Though he should put her out of his mind, he could not. He wanted her still.

He heaved a great sigh and lifted the whisky glass once more to his lips. The only solution was to get rid of the difficult and delicious Miss Benchley before he gave in and did something that he could not undo.

She should have slept the sleep of the dead; she'd been that exhausted. But Jinx was too upset to sleep. Too agitated and bewildered and furious.

By midnight she was seething. How dare he burst into her private chamber?

By two A.M. she was ready to commit murder. How dare he kiss her, then turn around and accuse her of trying to distract him!

By four o'clock, she was sick with shame. How could she have risen, wet and naked from the tub, with him right there? How could she have kissed him so passionately? And why should he not question the purposes of any woman who behaved so?

When the downstairs clock chimed half past four, she decided she must do something, else she would tear her hair out in utter frustration. So she dressed in her wrinkled, barely dried riding costume, pulled on dry hose and wet boots, then wound her hair into a serviceable knot and tied on her hat. She would not subject herself to Harrison Stirling's distracting presence one moment longer. Nor him to hers. She would go on alone. According to their hostess, Scotland was another two-day ride-assuming the weather cooperated. With the slower carriage, Colin could not be too much ahead of her.

The hove Match

Perhaps she might even catch up with him today.

She paused at the door. Lord Hartley would be furious and he would be after her with the same vengeance he felt for Colin. He was not a man accustomed to being thwarted. But that only intensified her resolve. He deserved to be thwarted. He deserved to have his sister wed someone he refused to approve.

Jinx's brow creased in a frown. In a way it was ironic, for in theory, her goals and Lord Hartley's were the same: prevent the union in marriage of their respective siblings. But her primary reason for wanting to prevent it was to avoid Lord Hartley's revenge upon Colin. If his nature were not so vengeful, she would not be so opposed to Colin marrying his sister.

But why should she help the arrogant Lord Hartley achieve his aim? Why should she seek to prevent Colin and Alice marrying? They were adult enough to make their own decisions, and if they were in love, who was she to gainsay them? Rather than join with Lord Hartley in thwarting them, it behooved her to rush to their aid- and thereby thwart Lord Hartley.

Her hand tightened on the ceramic doorknob. She would find the wayward pair before he could, she vowed. And if necessary, she would hire Bow Street runners to protect them. And she would laugh in Harrison Stirling's face and bring his sister home to Benchley Manor and all its charming follies.

Feeling much better than she had in hours, Jinx shoved the door open-and promptly sent a tower of pots clattering onto the floor.

"Lizard legs!" she swore as one of the metal vessels careened down the hall. So much for making a silent getaway.

When the last lid stilled its wobbling spin, she heard the creak of a door and the thud of footfalls on the bare wood floor. But Jinx did not want to hear the triumph in Lord Hartley's voice, or see the gloating look in his eyes. She slammed her door, then leaned back against it, breathing hard. Blast the man for foiling her escape. And blast him for being the most difficult, frustrating, stubborn oaf she'd ever had the misfortune to meet!

"Good try." His voice came through the door, and she jumped like a startled cat. "Good try, but you can't escape me that easily," he continued.

If it weren't that his voice was so unnervingly husky, Jinx would have snapped some sharp retort at him. She would! The trouble was, his voice was unnervingly husky. It was dark and warm and as luscious as velvet pouring over her naked skin.

"Bee's knees," she breathed, afraid for her own sanity. She lurched away from the door, one hand at her throat, the other holding on to her valise with a death grip. This was insane. Insane! She could not be having such an improbable reaction to this man. Such a primitive and visceral reaction.

But she was. There was no denying it. And that, more than anything else, kept her somber and silent in her room the long remainder of the night.

The farmer's wife came at dawn with a tray. Jinx ate because she knew she must. The stable lad brought the horses around to the front door, but still she sat in the room. Only when Lord Hartley knocked at her door did she rouse. "Go along without me. I'm not accompanying you any further."

He came straightaway into the room, as she should have known he would. "Are you ill?" he demanded to know.

"Yes. Ill," she responded, refusing to look at him. She was afraid to.

At once he pressed his hand to her brow. Jinx leapt back, a difficult feat, considering she was sitting on the bed. She glared at him. "Who taught you manners? This is not your room, nor am I your concern. Go." She waved her hand. "Go on about your fool's errand. As for me, I am returning home."

"To Hampshire? To Benchley Manor?" he asked, fixing her with a suspicious gaze.

She nodded. Now that she was looking at him, it seemed she could not look away. He was so tall, and so beautiful, she conceded, in a harsh, masculine sort of way. Why must he be the one man to move her?

By rights he should be the very last man to attract her. Other than his manly appearance, he had nothing to commend him. He was too arrogant, too high-handed, and too rich, and she had no inkling whether he possessed either intellect or common sense, both of which she admired in a person.

But he is a loyal brother, the small voice of reason reminded her. Rightly or wrongly, he took his sister's welfare most seriously.

Too seriously, she decided when he crossed his arms and stared down at her. "I am not fool enough to leave you here alone, Jinx, neither for my sake nor your own."

"Don't call me that. And I hardly believe you have any concern for my welfare."

"I am not leaving you here and that is final. For one thing, you cannot travel all the way back to Hampshire unescorted. Not that I trust you to go home. By the same token, I cannot let you travel on to Gretna Green alone, either."

"I told you. I've changed my mind. I'm not going on to Gretna Green."

"Yes you are." So saying, he caught her wrist in one hand and pulled her to her feet.

"Stop that! Who do you think you are?" she sputtered. "No-"

But Lord Hartley was stronger than she and bent on ignoring her. He snatched up her portmanteau and, deaf to her complaints, hauled her out of the room, down the narrow stairs, and out to the waiting horses. He rudely put her on Daffodil and then mounted his own steed. The farm wife thrust a bundle of bread and cheese into her hands, then they were off, with the farmer, his wife, and their three workers waving them down the road.

Jinx plotted revenge the whole day long. Over every hill, through every valley. Beneath clouds and sun and the occasional drizzle, she plotted revenge against the despotic Lord Hartley. They rode swiftly, he goading her horse before him when she did not ride fast enough. But to his every remark, she turned a cold shoulder.

"How did you get the name Jinx?" he'd asked at one point.

When she did not reply he answered for her. "Oh, I was a troublesome child, almost as troublesome as I am now."

She stared straight ahead, vowing to remain angry with him. Unfortunately, the ridiculous falsetto voice he'd adopted made it hard.

"You, troublesome?" he said in his own voice. "Oh, yes," he replied, mimicking her once more. "Women who are hardheaded and unreasonable generally behaved the same way during their childhood-"

"I am not unreasonable," Jinx stated in a haughty tone.

"So you admit that you're hardheaded."

"You are hardheaded. I am merely determined."

He had dropped back so that they now rode side by side. "Most people would agree that a young woman sallying forth alone to find her brother is more than merely determined."

She shot him a glare, her anger restored by his patronizing tone. "I was not brought up to be a slave to what 'most people' think. I do what I believe is right."

"As do I."

Frustrated, she urged Daffodil on. She would not ride beside him, conversing as if they were on an afternoon's pleasure ride. She would not exchange banter, nor even insults with him, for it did no good.

But it did not sit well for her to be silent in the face of frustration. She was more wont to lash out with her quick tongue than suffer in silence. Unfortunately, her reactions to Harrison Stirling were simply too irrational. She tried to stay angry, but he charmed her. She tried to shock him and he kissed her. She still had not recovered from that!

Oh, but he was the most arrogant, high-handed, egotistical… She couldn't find words remotely adequate to express her fury. He was the most egotistical man she'd ever had the misfortune to know. So she rode and she fumed and she bided her time. She would have her revenge, one way or another, she vowed. One way or another.

Late afternoon the rain resumed. They were well into the north country now, a pretty land of mountains and lakes, but few villages. They'd made good time, for the road was well maintained. But as they descended into a shallow valley, her captor, as she'd begun to think of him, turned off the road into a private park. Jinx had been riding rather dispiritedly just a little behind him. Now she straightened and peered out from beneath the drooping brim of her bedraggled bonnet.

"Where are you taking me now? Not calling on some friend or another, I hope." The last thing she wanted was for anyone to hear of this incident. Bad enough that everyone thought the Benchleys odd. If it got out she'd spent all this time alone with Lord Hartley, her reputation would be in a complete shambles.

Though her friend Virginia and the housekeeper, Mrs. Honeywell, feared Jinx meant never to marry, that was not so. It was only that-it was difficult to find the right man. But ruining her reputation with Lord Hartley would make it utterly impossible to find a husband.

That thought caused her to straighten even further.

Harrison Stirling was obsessed with his sister's reputation yet he did not mind playing fast and easy with hers. Perhaps it was time that she present a threat to his reputation.

"Where are we going?" she repeated. "This is not the way to Gretna Green. Why have we turned off the main road?"

He shot her a damp, disgruntled look. "So you're speaking to me again."

She tilted her chin to a lofty angle. "I have my reputation to protect. The last thing I want is to be caught in a compromising position with you. I should think you would feel the same."

A muscle began to twitch in his jaw. "The last thing, you say? It didn't feel like the last thing on your mind yesterday."

She fought the rise of color in her cheeks. "If you were a true gentleman, you would not bring that up!"

"If you were a lady, you would not be traipsing across the countryside alone!"

"But I'm not alone, am I? I'm stuck with a vengeful brute who's bent on murdering my brother-my only brother-and bent on ruining me as well!" She wheeled Daffodil around so abruptly the little mare nearly sat down on her haunches. Then she was off, flying down the gravel drive, back toward the main road.