Page 3 of The Marquis, the Minx, and the Mistletoe
December 1st ... many years later
Tatiana Everstead was at a crossroads.If you asked her which sort, she would tell you with no small degree of impatience that it was a literal crossroads, the sort you find when travelling. But, deep down, Tatiana knew that it was the metaphorical sort of crossroads too.
She was alone, at least ten miles from Norwich by now, dressed in her grandmother's plainest clothes so as to not draw attention to herself, and now she had reached the fabled fork in the road and must choose ... north or south?
Perhaps she might turn around and go back home. That was an option too?
No. That she would not do. It was too late. She could not get back before they found her gone, and she did not relish facing the aftermath of her flight.
Today is your wedding day, a voice in her head taunted, and she quipped back, hissing under her breath, "Itwas. Itwasmy wedding day."
If Nana were still here, none of this would be happening. Nana would have insisted that Tia listen to her instincts rather than her parents. But Nana was gone, and Tia had walked into her engagement knowing full well that it was all wrong. The pit of her stomach housed a stone, heavy and branded, screaming at her day and night,all wrong!
He was a lovely man. Truly. And she would have become a baroness today, had she not fled her family home in the dead of night like a coward. It hurt her to hurt him, but with the clock ticking ever closer to permanence, she'd had to choose herself. Isn't that what Nana always said?Never catch fire to keep another warm.
How would she live without her guidance? She had done a poor job of it thus far. All she had left of her Nana were her things: clothes and trinkets, cold and impersonal. Even the cottage was gone now. Sold.
The split in the road offered two clear choices, for either direction went toward one of her two closest friends. The only two people in the world who might offer her shelter after she'd done the unthinkable.
If she took the south road, she would make for Meridian House in Kent.
It was the sensible choice.
She knew for a certainty that her friend Nell was there, hanging garland for Yuletide and fussing over her newborn. She knew Meridian was a large house with much extra space, and that its owners would welcome her unexpected arrival with warmth. Nell would provide compassionate, but rational, counsel. She would not judge Tia too harshly, but she would be honest and frank about the consequences of what she’d done.
Nell had run away too, hadn't she? Last year, she had taken off on a scandalous elopement with her now-husband. Perhaps because of that she would understand more than anyone else what Tia had done. Maybe she was misjudging her level-headed and intelligent friend, and Nell would surprise her with support and affirmation for behaving so recklessly.
No. No, for that type of thing, Nell was not the person to go to. If she wanted rebellion and fantasy and reinforcement, she wanted Gloriana. Glory would tell her what shewantedto hear.
For Gloriana, she’d have to go north. After all, Glory was a woman who knew all too well the consequences of denying marriage proposals from perfectly desirable men. Glory loved a good scandal and would take Tia in with murmurs of sympathy and reassurance. And of course, there was the other thing.
If she went to Glory ... well, she might findhimthere as well … that damned Scotsman who had haunted her dreams for over a year now, who had kissed her once and addled her brains permanently. He might be there too.
Did she want him to be there?
She sighed, her breath fogging about her as she closed her eyes. She had known from the moment she'd seen that enormous dog of his, racing across the green of the Somerton lawns last autumn, that he was the man from the teacup.
Her heart had thudded to an abrupt halt in her chest, the bloodhound turning to sodden dregs clinging to a cup in her mind's eye. She had felt as though she were floating, her body turning to behold, at last, the prince of her dreams.
She held her breath, waiting for him to be revealed, golden and slender, stylish and elegant and fair.
Instead, a giant of a man had stomped out of his carriage, all shaggy black hair and an unshaven face and a loud, uncouth voice booming across the green.
She had swallowed the lump in her throat quickly. She must have been mistaken, she had told herself, watching him stride over the drive, pebbles flying up around his shiny black boots from the weight of his footfalls. Yes, just a simple coincidence. Many men had dogs.
But then she'd looked back at the carriage. That was her mistake. She saw his house crest and there was no more denying who he was. Moorvale colors, blue and gold, crossed on a shield, and in its center was a bat, a big, ugly bat.
Oh, and how she thought she might faint. She had hurried inside to find somewhere to sit, to gather her thoughts and catch her breath. How could that wild-looking man be the true love she'd seen in a teacup as a little girl?How?!He was nothing of what she wanted. A nobleman, yes, but a gentleman? His status meant nothing alongside his presence, so imposing and brash and untamed.
She had done all she could to avoid him in the following weeks. It had been easy enough to begin with, and then not so easy at all, once he'd caught sight of her. Nell thought she had gone mad, to be so averse to the idea of an interested marquis, especially as she'd had no prospects for marriage at the time.
She had resisted. She did all she could to hate him, to sever any beginnings of a connection, all the while being drawn to him like an invisible silk cord was knotted around her heart, tugging her closer and closer to her doom.
She had given in once, just once! A kiss, in a moment of chaos. Oh, what a kiss. It had been a mistake. And it had sealed her fate, she was certain. Memories of it had hounded her ever since.
You must lose one love to gain another,said Nana's ghost, warm and reassuring in her ear, as though she was not at all perturbed by her own death.
Had meeting Sheldon Bywater killed her grandmother? Was that the way of the universe? One love for another. If so, let the void take him, and good riddance! Tia would rather have her Nana back than a hundred princes vying for her hand. It was not fair.
