When they reached the open space at the crossroads, he reined in and waited for Tamsyn and Gabriel to catch up.
‘Cris, why on earth did you do that?’
Please tell me you realised you love me…
‘I have saved you a trial,’ Cris said, getting Jackdaw under control as the stallion plunged and backed as Gabriel thundered up. ‘They would have put you in prison and I could not allow them to do that to you. And it exposed Goode as a liar and probably as the man who pulled the trigger.’
‘Of all the damn-fool things to have done!’ Gabriel exploded into speech the moment he was within earshot. ‘Couldn’t you have done something that didn’t almost involve you marrying a totally unsuitable woman?’
‘Mind your tongue, Stone.’ Jackdaw plunged again as Cris wheeled him to face Gabriel. ‘You will not speak disrespectfully of Mrs Perowne in my hearing.’
‘Disrespectful? She is a charming lady, an intelligent, beautiful lady, a wonderful hostess and great company.’ Gabriel, his face grim, sketched a bow from the saddle to Tamsyn. ‘She is also a smuggler’s window and, forgive me, ma’am, of simple gentry stock. She is not a suitable wife for a man in your position and you know it.’
‘Will you both please stop discussing me as though I am not here?’ Foxy had caught Jackdaw’s restlessness and was sidling away from the other horses, tossing his head. ‘What is Cris’s position?’ An awful thought struck her. ‘No, you aren’t going to tell me he is a duke and that you were not joking the other day.’
‘No, he is not a duke,’ Gabriel said furiously. ‘Allow me to introduce the Marquess of Avenmore.’
Chapter Sixteen
‘A marquess?’ It was a joke, of course. They would both laugh in a moment.
They did not.
And then it all began to make sense. Cris’s fine clothes, his superior manservant, his air of utter confidence, his foreign travels. His whole attitude of assurance.
‘My name is de Feaux.’ He gave it a slight French intonation. ‘Not Defoe. I was not trying to lie to you, but my voice was hoarse.’
She waved away the explanation with an irritable flick of her hand. ‘You could have told the coroner anything—that we had both been up looking after a sick horse, that Mr Stone played cards with us all night—anything than let everyone think we were lovers.’
‘But that would not be true,’ Cris said with maddening reasonableness. ‘I do not lie under oath. If I could have seen a way to prevaricate, I would have done. If what I said was going to ruin you, then I would have had to keep silent for now. But once I said I intended to marry you there was no danger of that, Tamsyn.’
‘And thanks to my own willingness to tell half-truths you are not leg-shackled to a wife your close friend regards as a disaster! Why did you do it?’
‘Because it was an explanation that convinced both the coroner and the jury and, as for your reputation, almost anything will be forgiven to the betrothed of a marquess.’
‘And anything at all will be forgiven of a marquess, I suppose?’
‘It is the way of the world.’
‘Maddening, but true,’ Gabriel observed.
‘Thank you, Mr Stone, I do not need you to point that out to me,’ she snapped.
‘I am the Earl of Edenbridge, actually,’ he said with a rueful grimace. ‘I suppose I had better tell you while we are laying our cards on the table.’
‘And the ruse served its purpose. Goode ran, exposing his own guilt.’ Cris shrugged. ‘No one has to marry anyone.’
‘I suppose I got in with my explanation just as you were about to explain your cunning deception to the coroner.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Cris had both his voice and his horse under perfect control now.
She was so angry that she was unsure whether it was with him, or with herself for being so shamefully weak in wanting him to love her, to tell her it had been no ruse at all, but a ploy to make a humble country girl the wife of a marquess. Tamsyn gathered up the reins, dug her heel into Foxy’s side and gave the gelding his head, thundering along the road that led back towards Stibworthy. Anything but think, anything but risk him reading the feelings in her face.
*
‘We must keep her in sight.’ Cris spurred Jackdaw in pursuit.
‘But I would advise you not to actually catch her.’ Gabriel jammed his hat on his head and drew level with Cris. ‘That is not a happy woman.’