The Bride Wore Scandal. Helen Dickson

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      Her sudden appearance surprised them and had them springing to their feet, their hands automatically going to their pistols. Their leader turned and looked directly at her and said with a note of mockery in his harsh, baritone voice, ‘Easy, men. Calm yourselves. ‘Tis Miss Atherton herself come to call. Although as to the reason … I can only surmise it is my own charming self she has come to see.’

      Her look was one of intense dislike, but Mark Bucklow appeared not to notice. There was something about him that physically revolted her. She hated it every time she had to speak to him, to see the lust in his eyes and to hear the lechery in his sneer when he addressed her. As he threw off his cloak and swaggered towards where she stood with her legs trembling, she clamped her jaw, shrinking inside, realising it would gratify him too much if she showed her fear. Better to hold her ground, unpleasant as the next few minutes would be. He seemed to have the power to get right under her skin, and she hated herself for letting him.

      A man who enjoyed the robust, earthy pleasures of life, he liked to cut a dash, did Mark Bucklow, and dressed in outrageously extroverted fashion. Tonight he was flamboyantly dressed in scarlet velvet and gold braid to draw attention to himself, a froth of lace at his throat and wrists. Two pistols were thrust into a gold sash about his thickening waist, and a dagger showed above the deep cuff of his boot. He was tall and stout with long and curling sandy hair. Some would call him quite handsome—not in a gentlemanly way, with fine chiselled features, but with broad, strong cheekbones and a wide mouth. Grinning his wolfish smile, he was the very picture of what her mother had taught her to fear.

      Taking the lantern from her, he set it down, placing his hand on her elbow and drawing her away from the others, who had resumed their seats and once again began to throw the dice.

      ‘I am indeed honoured that the mistress of the house should seek me out, Christina,’ Mark drawled mockingly, ‘and looking as pretty as a picture, too. I’d like to think it was for my benefit.’

      ‘We are entertaining—on your say so for what can be gained from it. It cannot have slipped your mind,’ she uttered with cold sarcasm, her eyes flashing irately.

      Reaching out, he ran one of his heavily jewelled fingers down the curve of her cheek, laughing softly when she cringed and drew back. ‘Ah, you show your claws, Christina,’ he murmured. ‘I like that. You are so adorable when you are angry. But enough of this,’ he said on a sharper note, knowing it would have to be a matter of considerable importance for her to brave the tunnel. ‘The evening is going well, I trust?’

      ‘Yes, perfectly well—only …’

      He cocked a brow, his dark eyes assessing and gleaming sharply. ‘What? Do I detect a problem? Is something amiss, Christina?’

      ‘William sent me to tell you—to warn you—that we have an unexpected and uninvited guest by the name of Lord Rockley. He has been appointed by the Lord Lieutenant to investigate the increase in robberies in the area.’

      Mark stared. For a practised scoundrel who was never at a loss for a quip, he suddenly found himself with nothing to say. He kept his face expressionless through sheer strength of will-power. He didn’t need to hear anything about Rockley. Mark had heard of him, though he’d never seen him in the flesh. Rockley was a powerful, ruthless man, whose exploits were talked about throughout Europe. Mark did not fear him—indeed, Mark feared no man—but he was fully aware of Rockley’s strength. To take on such an assignment, Rockley had set himself against him as his full-blown enemy. Undaunted, Mark was ready for the challenge. He would crush Rockley as easily as he would an insect.

      Mark shrugged unconcernedly. ‘The infamous Lord Rockley. What do I care? He isn’t the first to come after us, and he won’t be the last. If he interferes in what I do, he’ll find himself food for carrion before the dawn. He will be dealt the same treatment as any man who tries to get the better of me—friend or foe.’

      ‘Even those who work for you?’

      ‘Especially those who work for me and attempt to double-cross me or shirk a hold-up—as I’ve made clear to your brother. Their weakness would render them an encumbrance—an encumbrance to be rid of.’ He sneered as his eyes did a sweep of the men sitting around. ‘You know the expression, I am sure—there is no honour among thieves. It must also apply to thief-catchers.’

      With a complete contempt for authority, and pouring scorn on the law and its representatives, Mark wouldn’t be unduly worried by the appearance of this particular thief-catcher, but after meeting Lord Rockley, Christina thought that perhaps in this instance he should be.

      ‘Now that I have delivered my message, I must go back. How is Toby, by the way? I hope he was returned to you and is recovering from the injuries incurred yesterday.’

      Mark nodded towards a corner where the little dog was sleeping soundly on a heap of sacking. ‘Toby’s like me. It will take more than a bramble bush to defeat him.’

      ‘Yes—I’m sure,’ Christina remarked tartly. ‘I must go. Soon the guests will be coming in from the firework display and I must be there to receive them.’

      ‘What? You will leave me so soon?’

      ‘Yes, I must.’

      He growled in exasperation. ‘Such cruelty, Christina, when all I want is to take care of you. Of all the women in the world that I could have, doesn’t it mean anything to you that you’re the one I want?’

      ‘No, Mark, it doesn’t.’

      ‘Come away with me and you can have me and my money.’

      ‘I don’t want you or your money. I want you to move away from Oakbridge—to leave us alone.’

      ‘And be reduced to poverty and penny pinching,’ Mark sneered. ‘I don’t think so, Christina. That would never do for your precious William. He always did like the good things in life, which was what I noticed about him from the start. We have an arrangement. Oakbridge serves my purpose.’

      ‘Only until the authorities catch up with you—as they will one day.’

      ‘Me and your brother. If they catch me, I’ll take him with me.’ His eyes narrowed and gleamed. ‘You can count on that, Christina. You won’t come out of it unscathed either, I promise you.’

      ‘And that doesn’t bother you, I suppose,’ she said scathingly.

      Mark shrugged. ‘Not in the slightest. I’m not moving from here. As I said, it suits my purpose.’

      ‘And if we want to contact you for any reason, where can we find you?’ William had told her he often used the Black Swan Inn at Wakeham for his meetings, but where he actually lived was a mystery to her.

      He leaned forwards, saying for her ears alone, ‘If I thought you might find your way to my lair to help me while away the daylight hours, I would tell you, but since you aren’t too friendly and might take it into that pretty head of yours to turn me in, you’re better off not knowing. Let’s just say it’s an out-of-the-way place where a man can come and go without any questions being asked of him.’ He raised a speculative brow. ‘Do you think you might come looking for me, Christina?

      ‘Never. СКАЧАТЬ