Scandal and the Runaway Bride (Heirs to an Empire 1)

CHAPTER ONE

Surrey, mid-July

WILLIAM PEMBERTON HELD the folded sheet of cream paper in his hand and clenched his jaw. Just beyond this room, in the Chatsworth estate chapel, his elder brother, Stephen Pemberton, the Earl of Chatsworth, was waiting for his bride. The guests had already filled the pews and the organist was playing quietly, though the wait had been so long now she was starting to repeat pieces. The bridesmaids were lined up at the entry doors, dresses and bouquets perfect, and William had been discreetly dispatched to find out what was keeping the bride.

What he’d discovered was no bride at all, and a note instead.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me.

William fought to contain the rage and contempt racing through his veins. His brother was a good man, and deserved better than this. Especially after his previous broken engagement—though the rest of the family wasn’t aware of the circumstances of Stephen’s breakup with Bridget. Only William, who’d found his brother soundly inebriated in the Chatsworth study one night last February, knew the truth. The whole sordid tale had come out over far too much gin.

And while William had thought that Stephen’s marriage to Gabriella was also a mistake, this was too much. Who did Gabi Baresi think she was? There’d been ample time to change her mind. Instead she’d left it to the eleventh hour, when it was sure to humiliate Stephen—and his family—the most. Rage simmered in William’s veins. This wasn’t just going to hurt Stephen, it was going to be a PR nightmare for Aurora, Inc.

He let out a breath. Okay. His job right now was damage control. There would be no wedding today and he had to think fast to keep it from being an utter scandal, splashed all over the tabloids. The Pembertons and the company didn’t need that. Not now, so soon after William’s father’s death.

He folded the paper in little squares, tucked it into his pocket, and then set his shoulders, preparing for the horrible task ahead. His shoes clicked on the stone floor as he made his way through the back door to the chapel, where Stephen looked over at him with a questioning brow. William gave a jerk of his head and Stephen hurried to his side, still beaming his happy groom smile. That was, until they were behind a gigantic display of roses and lilies. William nearly choked on the overpowering scent.

“What is it?” Stephen asked. “You look like you’re ready to murder someone.”

“Not far off,” William whispered. “Listen, Gabi’s not coming. But I have a plan, so please don’t go off half-cocked until you hear me out.”

Stephen’s face paled and his lips thinned. “My God. What do you mean, she’s not coming?”

“She left a note, saying she’s sorry and to forgive her.”

“Let me see it.”

William had learned long ago to never disobey that tone in his brother’s voice. He took the note out of his pocket and unfolded it, careful to keep it out of sight of any guests. Not much worry, though. There were so many flower arrangements that the chapel had become a veritable bower of blooms. One only had to duck behind a single installment of blossoms and greenery to be completely concealed.

Stephen swore.

“My thoughts exactly,” William said. “Now, here’s what you’re going to do, and it’s going to take all your acting ability. You’re going to go up to that altar, incredibly concerned that your bride-to-be has fallen horribly ill. You’re going to ask to be excused, and you’re going to go back to the house. No one is going to see you, and once I’ve found her we’ll figure out a plan to contain the damage. It’ll be on social media within the hour, so we have to watch our steps.”

“You’re going to find her.”

“Oh, yes,” William promised darkly. “I don’t care if we have to call it food poisoning or the flu, but she is going to disappear for a while to ‘recuperate’ until this is under control. Then you can decide if you still want to go through with this farce.”

“William—”

“I know. Sorry. We’ll talk more later. Right now, you give the performance of your life and get back to the house. I’ll smooth things here and then find Gabi.”

Stephen gave a brusque nod. If William had ever had any doubts about his brother’s feelings for Gabi, they were put to rest. He was angry, but he wasn’t heartbroken like a man should be when his bride pulls a runner. It was small comfort, but it was something.

Stephen went to the altar and cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m so sorry to say that there won’t be a wedding today. Gabi has fallen horribly ill. I thank you all for coming, and I’m sure we’ll set a new date once she’s feeling better. Right now, I’d better go look after my...after Gabriella.” He put on an expression of appropriate concern and affection that even William nearly believed.

Then Stephen brushed past him and stormed through the door, looking to the rest of the world like a worried fiancé. But William knew that look. And when Stephen wore that expression, his mind was set. No matter what Gabi said now, this “arrangement” was over. Maybe that was a blessing, even if it was a mess to be cleaned up.

Their mother, Aurora Germain Pemberton, hastened forward, concern flattening her normally soft, ethereal expression. “William, what is happening?”

He met her gaze and kept his voice low. “Gabi ran. Stephen’s going to the house as if she’s ill. I’m going to find her, and then I’m going to find us a way out of this mess. Can you handle things here? Say as little as possible?”

She scoffed. “Of course.” Then she looked up at William. “I wish I could say I was sorry, but I’m not. She was not the woman for Stephen, and they do not love each other. But, mon Dieu, I wish she’d done it another way. What a mess.”

“I know, Maman.” He risked a little of Stephen’s secret. “You know he wanted a happy occasion. Something to make you look to the future, instead of grieving so much.”

Aurora looked into William’s eyes, and he saw the sadness lurking in the gray depths. “Grief is what it is, darling. I will always grieve for your father. No wedding can take that away.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It is life.” She smiled a little and kissed his cheek. “Now, don’t worry about a thing here. This is not my first PR crisis.”

She walked away, head high and so very poised. His mother was an incredibly strong woman.

One of the bridesmaids was standing back, twisting her fingers in her bouquet and biting her lip. Gabi’s younger sister, Giulia, who had traveled from Italy to be in the wedding. William beckoned her forward.

“Giulia, right?” he asked.