Page 74 of The Lord Meets His Lady
Seventeen
“She gets married. Today. Problem solved.”
“What?” Miss Turner gaped at Samuel, her mouth twisting with distaste.
“Married?” Marcus exclaimed.
Miss Turner’s distaste metamorphosed to slight horror. Was the idea of marriage to him that awful? He didn’t have time to delve deeper into her reaction or to soothe his dented male pride.
“Marriage is the way out,” Samuel said, his finger spearing the contract. “Read this clause.”
Miss Turner crowded close to Samuel’s side, but Marcus’s boots were stuck in place.
“It says ‘…and the indentured servant shall have no reprieve from service’”—Samuel paused for dramatic effect—“‘exceptif a marriage results during the time of service. If marriage occurs, the indenture shall be considered dissolved, and the servant may live free and clear of obligation.’” Samuel’s knuckles rapped the paper. “That’s our answer.”
“Let me see.” Marcus pushed off the mantel and grabbed the contract.
Lines slanted from hasty writing. The release clause was there in black ink, freedom for Miss Turner. She sidled up to him, all the better to read the paper. Her mouth moved and barely audible words poured from her lips.
“‘…may live free and clear…’” Her words were reverent at his side.
Did she linger on the wordfree? Her face lit up as she exhaled a deep sigh of relief. She had a path out of the trouble that dogged her. Marcus scrubbed a hand across his face and gave the contract back to Samuel.
Did it have to be marriage?
Marcus situated himself in front of the fire, his teeth grinding. Mr. Wolf couldn’t have her. His blood had boiled at the scene in the forest, the giant Prussian touching her face intimately. He’d grabbed his wheel lock and cocked the pistol, ready to shoot first and ask questions later. Samuel’s staying hand had stopped him from doing anything rash.
Samuel pored over the contract with Miss Turner. They spoke in hushed tones, their words eluding Marcus because of the rush of blood through his ears.
“I’m not sure marriage is the answer. Why can’t we take her to her grandmother tonight?” he suggested, tugging on his collar. “She could hide there until we find a better solution.”
With his head bent over the paper, Samuel’s blue gaze shot up. “That’s an option, but marriage offers the only legal protection.”
“Reinhard would eventually find me,” she agreed. “There’d be no hiding from him.”
“Then it’s all settled.” Samuel gave the contract back to her. “Get married, then tomorrow you can burn this.”
Her joyful intake of breath was music to Marcus’s ears.But marriage?
His spine hit the mantel, the hearth’s inferno scorching his legs. Marriage to Miss Turner would be a new definition of purgatory. “This is all going too fast,” he said to Samuel. “This isn’t good for Miss Turner.”
Samuel balked. “Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Thank you, milord,” she quipped. “But Miss Turner can decide what’s best for Miss Turner. I’m quite done with men making decisions for me.”
“Because you’ve done a fine job thus far.”
“Well enough.” She glared at him, clamping both arms under her bosom. “If this gets rid of Reinhard, I’ll do it.”
Her cloak fell open, and creamy, desirable flesh pillowed from the russet bodice. Her arms pushed up the very curves that were his downfall. She was beautifully proud in her faded gown with bits of wood in her hair. Sweat pricked his skin, the fire bitingly hot at his backside. He was the worst wastrel. Even in her desperate hour, lust, not reason, clouded his brain. But he couldn’t stop what came out of his mouth.
“Don’t you think you ought to call himMr.Wolf? Or Herr Wolf?”
Samuel’s icy gaze scanned him from head to toe. “Did the laundress put too much starch in your shirt? Since when do proprieties bother you?”
Marcus looked down. Shoulders stiff, he held his hands clasped behind his back. Legs rigid, the toes of his boots angled slightly out and he groaned, “Bloody hell. I’m turning into my brother.”
