Page 90 of The Beauty and the Boxer
She smiled at him.
“Would you really let me marry someoneelse?”
“I’m trying to,” he said honestly. “It’s whyI’m going to New York. I couldn’t trust myself not to ruin yourchances,” he said. “Damn it. New York. Meredith, you have to getoff this ship.”
“Take me with you.”
“It’s unseemly to travel together likethis,” he said and her face became crestfallen. “Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless you’d be willing to marry me?”
Meredith sucked in a breath and he wasworried for a moment that she would say no, when she jumped intohis arms.
“Yes, Jack. Yes, I will marry you.”
Jack had never felt quite like he did inthat moment. It was as if he had won all the boxing matches atonce, had secured all the deals and yet, it felt better than all ofthat put together. Meredith was his, or at least she would be assoon as possible.
On the deck of the ship not twenty minuteslater and having explained their situation, Meredith Taylor marriedJack Archer as they sailed into the sunset together.
Chapter Twenty
Four months later…
Meredith sat in her velvet dressing robe ather writing desk, having bathed after an early dinner in theluxurious grand Buffalo Hotel where they had decided to make theirhome since arriving some four months ago. They had thought aboutrenting a home, but the hotel was brand new and really rathergrand, having just been hailed as one of the fifteen finest hotelsin the entire country. It also afforded a level of privacy that hadbeen terribly beneficial to the Archers since Jack was highlysought after for pushy entrepreneurs.
She had just finished reading a veryshocking letter Sarah had sent her and was eager to write back. Itseemed the Duchess of Mountebank had passed away. Some sort offever had passed through London and while death by fever wascommon, death by fever in one’s supposed lover’s home was not.
There was no mention in the paper howeverabout the duchess’s state of being however. It seemed odd toMeredith that the newspapers wouldn’t have mentioned the fact thatshe was with child, but then perhaps the duke had asked for themnot to report it.
It also appeared that the duchess was havingseveral affairs, for at the time of her death, when it wasdiscovered that she had passed away in the house of her lover,several homes were reported to be where the duchess had taken herlast breath, but it had certainly cast a dark shadow over the houseof Dragmoor.
Sarah and Simon had been surprised thatMeredith had basically ran away with Jack, but had been successfulin spinning it to the London papers that the two were madly in loveand, really, wasn’t that nice that a spinster should marry, even ifit was a former boxer.
Jack had been terribly proud to read thearticle that Sarah had sent about their elopement. It had describedthem both rather poorly, making Meredith sound like an old wretchand him as if he still dined in back alleys.
Still, Meredith had never known herself tobe so carefree and happy and Jack was proving to be the mostattentive and loving sort of husband. When they had been marriedfor two weeks, he had taken the day off and locked their hotel roomdoor, and made love to her for hours, seemingly trying to erase herprevious experiences with marriage. He hadn’t spoken it, butMeredith knew what he was trying to prove and she had fallen inlove with him all the more since that day.
Sarah’s pregnancy was terribly uncomfortableand she had been ordered to rest in bed, which had made Simon damnnear impossible to manage, according to her letters. Meredith wasjust about to write her about their plans for returning when Jackentered the room, having stayed in the lobby to finish some sort ofbusiness after dinner.
He paused when he saw her after he closedthe door, and Meredith felt giddy. He was forever staring at herlike he was surprised she was there and while it was flattering,she wished he would feel comfortable in the fact that she wasn’tgoing anywhere. She had learned in recent months that Jack too deltwith feelings of abandonment and while she told him constantly shewasn’t going anywhere, she wondered if he believed her. Still, shewould tell him every day if she had to, in hopes that he mightrelax and believe her.
“News?” he asked after a moment, beforecoming further in to shrug off his coat.
“Yes, quite a lot, I’m afraid,” she said.“The duke’s wife has passed away.”
Jack stilled.
“She’s dead?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“How?”
“Fever.”
“Is Mountebank alive?”
