Queen of my Hart - Emily Royal Page 0,6

after?

And what man could be such a fearsome prospect for a husband that even Alderley felt the need to assign a gaoler to prevent her from escaping him?

Chapter Three

Dexter and his business partner climbed out of the carriage, and both stared at the building.

The Alderley family chapel.

“Hell’s teeth, Peyton, did you ever see such a godforsaken place?”

His companion laughed. “You’ll find it a fitting environment for your black heart.”

It was a testament to Peyton’s usefulness that Dexter didn’t call him out for such disrespect.

Oliver Peyton employed his business brain during the day with the accuracy of a master swordsman, and he was the only worthy opponent in chess in London. But by night, he was a dandy, who set reason aside and pursued women with gentle charm instead of a hunter’s ruthlessness.

Unlike Dexter, to whom the game of seduction was just another chess match, where he could read a woman’s intentions and desires several steps in advance.

Nobody could beat him at chess.

Or at seduction.

Oliver gave him a nudge.

“Cheer up, old boy. Alderley might swap the brides back!”

“Let’s hope not,” Dexter replied.

Oliver laughed. “You prefer to shackle yourself to a dried-up old maid from a country village than the honorable Elizabeth?”

Perhaps. Dexter had reconciled himself to his fate. However unpalatable she was—and a natural daughter raised in the gutter could not be considered anything but unpalatable—his bride would, most likely, be so grateful for being elevated from the mud pile that she’d submit to his every command.

“I daresay you’ll relish the gratitude of a peasant,” Oliver continued, “and I’m sure she’ll be obliging enough to remain indoors while you explore London’s bawdy houses to dine on sweeter meat!”

“That’s enough!” Dexter growled. “In less than an hour, the woman will be my wife.”

Oliver’s smile disappeared. “I’m sorry, my friend, I was only trying…”

“I know,” Dexter sighed. “To make light of this godawful situation, I find myself in.”

“You could always call it off,” Oliver said. “None would think the worse of you.”

“It’s a question of honor,” Dexter said. “And this way, I can keep Alderley in my sights. If he wishes to sacrifice one of his pawns, let it be to my advantage. He must have a purpose for giving her to me. Once I discover that purpose, I can use her for my own ends.”

Oliver shook his head. “I almost feel sorry for her.”

His words, unwittingly repeating Harold Pelham’s observations of a fortnight ago, pricked at Dexter’s conscience.

Dexter gestured toward the chapel. “Best get this over with.”

The chapel was empty save for the parson and a black-clad man Dexter didn’t recognize. He stood and issued a stiff bow as Dexter approached him.

“Mr. Hart,” he said. “Permit me to introduce myself. Mr. Turner, at your service. I’m his lordship’s steward.”

“What happened to your predecessor?” Dexter asked.

The man colored and averted his eyes.

“Never mind,” Dexter said. “No doubt the challenge of restoring Alderley’s finances proved too much for him. I wish you greater success, though unless you’re practiced in alchemy or witchcraft, you’ll have a struggle on your hands.”

“Which is why I’d be most obliged if you saw fit to discuss his lordship’s debt with…”

Dexter raised his hand. “First, I deem it unseemly to discuss finances on what is supposed to be the happiest day of my life. And second, any plea on behalf of the Alderley estate must come from his lordship’s mouth, for me to consider it.”

A creak echoed around the church as the doors opened. A solitary figure stood, silhouetted in the light. Dexter sighed in irritation. He’d recognize that shape anywhere, given the numerous occasions on which it had been shown to him.

The newcomer walked down the aisle, slowly, as if in a procession, and the parson let out a nervous cough.

“I was right,” Oliver whispered. “Alderley has swapped daughters.”

The woman tipped her head up, greed and desperation in her eyes.

“What are you doing, Elizabeth?” Dexter hissed.

“I’m come to demand you see reason.” She reached out her hand, and he brushed it aside. Her lips thinned into a frown, and it struck Dexter how unattractive she really was. Her sharp handsomeness displayed a meanness of spirit, which only served to emphasize what a lucky escape he’d had.

“What’s done is done,” he said. “You do yourself no favors being here, and your father would object to his prize possession, tainting herself with my presence.”

“I can still persuade him,” she said, her tone taking on a nasal whine. She grasped his wrist, her hand moving too quickly for him to avoid her.