"I was shocked at first, but now it seems oddly irrelevant. She's nothing to me." She shrugged. "It's strange, but I really don't feel any connection with her at all. In fact, now I know who she is-what she is-it's a great weight off my mind. She's been disturbing me ever since I met her. It's a relief to know why."
Marcus nodded. "She is nothing to you. Now we can put all this behind us and start afresh."
Judith bit her lip. "Yes, well, there's just one thing more-"
"Oh, no." Marcus groaned, dropping her hands. "Not something else, Judith, please. "
"I wasn't going to tell you-" "Judith, don't do this to me!" "I have to," she wailed. "If you hadn't discovered about Gracemere and all this muddle, I would have kept quiet about it. Sebastian said it wasn't important because we create our own truths, but it is important, and since you know all the rest, you had better know this, too. In fact, it'll probably occur to you, anyway, at some point, when you have time to think."
Marcus closed his eyes briefly and said with heavy resignation, "Go on. What truth have you created now?" He moved away to the fireplace and stood waiting.
"Well, you see… you see, we aren't married," she blurted, wringing her hands. "What!"
"Judith Davenport isn't a legal person; neither is Sebastian Davenport. I didn't think about it in the church, how should I have? It was only afterward, when I looked at the register. But we're Devereux… I don't ever remember being called Charlotte, but…" She saw comprehension in his eyes and fell silent, judging she'd said enough.
Marcus strode across the room. His fingers clamped one wrist, tightening around the fragile bones, as he dragged her to the door. She tripped over an uneven flagstone on the threshold but his pace didn't slacken as he hauled her after him, down the rickety stairs. She stumbled in his wake, her manacled wrist at full stretch, and they emerged in the sunlit stableyard. Judith blinked at the brightness of the light after the gloom above.
"Marcus, what are you doing? Where are we going?" she demanded breathlessly.
"I'll tell you where we're going," he replied in clipped accents. "We're going to find a bishop and a special license, and we're going to finalize this marriage beyond all possible doubt. After which I intend to exercise all my marital rights-including the one involving a rod no thicker than my finger. The only question is in which order I decide to exercise those rights." He caught her around the waist and tossed her unceremoniously into his curricle.
"Can't I have an opinion?" Judith asked, picking herself up and scrambling onto the seat.
"No, you may not!" He jumped up beside her. "If you have a grain of common sense, which I doubt, you'll sit very still and keep your mouth shut."
Judith sat back, smoothing down her skirt, catching her breath, as the thong of his whip flicked the leader's neck and the team plunged forward. They kept up a furious pace, pounding across the heath, and swung onto the deserted post road at the gibbet. Judith examined her companion's profile with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Marcus, you're laughing," she stated.
"What the hell have I got to laugh about?" he demanded, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "For the last seven months, I've been living in sin with a woman who took part in an illegal marriage ceremony, and if circumstances hadn't forced a confession from her, fully intended to leave me in ignorance for the rest of my mortal span!"
"Ignorance is supposed to be bliss," Judith offered, not a whit fooled by his ferocious tone. "Anyway, what's in a name?" A strange little sound came from him and his shoulders shook. "I know you're laughing," she insisted. "You once said it was very bad to repress laughter… I'm. sure you said it would give one an apoplexy."
Marcus checked his horses and drove the curricle off the road into a stand of trees. There they stopped and he turned toward Judith. Her mischievous glint deepened as she saw the merriment in his eyes. "I knew you were laughing," she said with satisfaction.
He caught her chin. "Ever since I met you, I have taken leave of my senses. Why else would I permit a tempestuous, manipulative, unscrupulous wildcat to lead me the craziest dance a man has ever been led?"
"For a man who hates dancing, it does seem a little inconsistent," she agreed, smiling. "But, judging by my own experience, one doesn't choose where to love. Why else would I fall body and soul in lust and love with a tyrannical, stuffy despot, who insists on keeping me under his thumb, and is only happy when he's laying down the law to all and sundry?"
"But you do love him nevertheless?"
"Oh, yes," she said, reaching up to grasp his wrist. "As he loves a designing adventuress."
"Beyond reason," he said softly. "I love you beyond reason, you abominable lynx."
He brought his mouth to hers, his hand moving to palm her scalp as she reached against him, and his tongue plundered the sweetness of her mouth even as she drank greedily of the taste and scent of him, of the promise of an untrammeled future, where loyalties were simple and trust was absolute.