Page 45 of The Virgin in the Rake's Bed
Talk of elopement and Scotland was exciting, and the thought of defying her father and brother even more so. Once they were married, there could be no denying the legitimacy of what they had done, and the Earl of Westwood would have no claim over her. Catherine smiled at the thought of her father and brother’s faces when they discovered she was married to Ian, a defiance which would secure her independence and thwart their plans in one.
“Elope? To Scotland?” she exclaimed, and he nodded.
“Why not? What is stopping us? Why hold back a moment longer?” he asked, and she smiled at him.
“It is all I want,” she said, and he took her in his arms and kissed her, the two of them of one mind as to what they desired.
* * *
“Where have you been?” Samantha asked, when Catherine returned to the ballroom a few moments later.
Her dress was somewhat disheveled and her face flushed red, breathless from the excitement of her exertions and excited at the prospect of what was to come next.
“I have been in the library, Samantha,” she said, raising her eyebrows at her friend, just as Ian appeared behind her, nodding to Samantha as she passed.
“My library?” Samantha exclaimed, a look of horror coming over her face.
“Well, I have already seen that of Rebecca and Nicholas,” Catherine replied, glancing over at Ian, who was now talking to Samantha’s husband Norman.
“You are quite unbelievable,” Samantha said, though she could not hide the smile coming over her face.
“You have seen nothing yet,” Catherine replied, her thoughts turned to the elopement, and all the excitement that was to come.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Elope? To Scotland?” Rebecca exclaimed, and Catherine nodded.
She did not think it particularly remarkable. As Ian had told her, many others of their rank and class did it, and she would return a respectable woman, married and on the arm of the man she loved, rather than the man to be forced on her.
“It is no longer a ruse, Rebecca. We are to be married. Ian has told me he loves me, and as you know, my feelings for him are the same. We want to marry, but my father will not permit it, and so our only choice is to elope,” she said.
It sounded entirely reasonable, and she was somewhat surprised at her friend’s reaction. She had come to take tea with Rebecca the day after the ball and wanted her and Samantha to know the truth before she and Ian departed for Scotland. They were to leave the following day, a carriage taking them north, where they would join a mail coach north to Gretna Green.
“But do you not think it is a rash decision?” Rebecca asked.
“I do not think it a rash decision at all,” Catherine replied.
As far as she was concerned, Catherine was getting married. It may not be in a pretty church, surrounded by her friends and family, but it would be to the man she loved. And surely that was all that mattered?
“But why has he changed his mind so readily? He was entirely against the idea before, and when Nicholas went to see him, he was far from enthusiastic,” she replied.
“Nicholas went to see him?” Catherine said, and Rebecca blushed.
“Oh, yes, did he not say so? I asked Nicholas to speak with Ian, to persuade him to go to the ball. I knew he was reluctant to do so, and I did not want you to miss out on seeing him,” Rebecca said.
Catherine smiled. She could not be cross with Rebecca for playing matchmaker. If anything, those words had evidently persuaded Ian of the rightness of attending the ball. But as for his sudden change of heart, Catherine was somewhat uncertain. She did not know why Ian had decided to break his own rules and declare his love. All she knew was that his words were entirely sincere, and that her love for him was true, too. They would be married, and despite all the obstacles, it would surely be the happiest day of her life.
“Then I am glad you did, Rebecca, for I have never felt so happy,” Catherine replied, taking a sip of tea.
“I am only sorry that Samantha and I will not see you on the day you are married. We will not help you ready yourself or see your dress. It is such a shame,” Rebecca said, but Catherine shook her head.
“We shall have a blessing, perhaps, when we return. Then you may see the dress, though I have no plans for something fancy. All I want is to be married, and that is that,” she replied.
It was all she wanted – to marry Ian and escape the Earl of Westwood. The trapping and peripheries – the dress, the carriage, the throwing of the rice, none of it mattered, only love, and it was love which drove her, love which enticed her, love for which she was prepared to give up everything for the man she had fallen for, even in deception.
* * *
“And tell them we have gone south, not north,” Ian said, stuffing clothes into a bag, as his faithful butler Redbrand looked on in somewhat amusement.
