The Courtship (Sherbrooke Brides 5) - Page 59

“Yes, but I came back. I ate the brea

d.”

“What do you want, Lord Beecham?”

“There is a naked man in the inn courtyard. His wrists are tied by a rope looped over the lower branch of that immense elm tree, and Gwen is whipping him. There were three other women in line, waiting their turn. They have switches, not hollyhock bunches.”

“Yes. Geordie spilled twenty pounds of oats in a mud puddle. It demands a Level Six punishment. Gwen believed that was appropriate.”

“I see. It all makes sense now. Will you marry me, Helen?”

She dropped her cup of cider. She sat there, stunned, watching the cider snake over her exquisitely polished oak floor toward the small rectangular Aubusson carpet. She moaned, jumped to her feet, and looked wildly around.

Lord Beecham untied his beautiful white cravat and handed it to her.

He watched her go down on her knees and wipe up the cider. She continued to wipe long after the cider was gone.

“Helen, it is all clean now.” He held out his hand. “You will rub the wood away.”

She ignored his hand and jumped to her feet, tottered a bit because she was dizzy, then sat down heavily back into her chair.

“I didn’t run away from you. I rode to Shugborough. I have just returned from there. Your father gives me his permission to court you. Actually, he also gives his permission to marry you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

There was another yell from Geordie, followed by a deep moan. Helen said absently, “That was probably Miss Millbark. Did you notice how the moan was louder than the yell? She always teases before she strikes.”

“Helen, I don’t care about Geordie’s discipline at this particular moment. How many strokes does he get?”

“Only ten. Then he is forced to stand naked in front of the inn, holding a lamp, for three hours, unless it rains, in which case it is postponed until it is sunny again.”

“I see. Will you?”

She was shaking her head at him, saying, “This makes no sense. You desire me, I will grant you that, since I feel the same about you. But you don’t love me. How could you? You don’t know me.”

“Don’t know you? My God, woman, if ours is not a marvelous beginning of knowing, I don’t know what is.”

“That is something I still don’t understand. I am coming to believe that you are a sorcerer, sir. You have but to touch me and I am suddenly mindless.”

“Yes, it is rather nice, isn’t it?”

She looked suddenly lost.

He was at her side in an instant. He came down on his haunches beside her chair. “Helen,” he said. “I know we only met each other a month ago. I know that I never wanted to marry, at least not until I was nearly ready to cork it. But now everything is different. We are different. Marry me, Helen. We will deal well together. We will find this bloody lamp and perhaps become joint rulers of the world through its magic. What do you think? Is that enough power? There are lots of mysteries in the world, just waiting to be discovered. We can search out our fair share of them. Say yes, Helen.”

“I am as strong as you are.”

“Possibly.” He grinned up at her.

There was another very long yell and a short moan.

“Who was that?”

“The vicar’s wife, Mrs. Possett. She enjoys more the pain end of things. I believe she is seeing the vicar in Geordie’s place. He isn’t a very tolerant man. I have heard her gnash her teeth.”

“Tell me yes, Helen.”

“I was married before.” There was a deep and dangerous pause. “I didn’t care for it.”

“You were young, your exquisite mind unformed. The man was an idiot. But it doesn’t matter now. He is long dead. You and I are different, Helen. We are no longer children. We know what we want.”

Tags: Catherine Coulter Sherbrooke Brides Historical
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