Page 82 of An Unexpected Earl

“Or perhaps—” She couldn’t help but lick her suddenly dry lips. “Perhaps we were never legally married in the first place, and this unsigned contract proves it.”

He froze with his hand down his breeches. Disappointment panged through her that he hadn’t paused like that to wantonly titillate her. But there would be time later for such play. If she had her way, they’d have a lifetime.

“Explain.” He recovered himself with that brusque order and turned to pour a glass of whiskey. But every inch of him was tensed like a coiled spring.

“When we married, my twenty-first birthday was still two weeks away. I was still a minor, which meant I needed Freddie’s consent to marry.”

“But you had it,” he said to the drink tray. “You said Howard agreed to let Northam court you, laid out the terms of the marriage agreement… He supported your marriage.”

“He did.” Hope spiked her pulse as she admitted, “But never in writing. Or in public.”

He turned slowly toward her, raising the glass to his mouth but not drinking as he paused, waiting for her to finish.

She picked up the agreement and pointed to the blank space where her brother’s signature should have gone. “No signed agreement by my guardian, no reading of the banns, no formal announcement of any kind—nothing. As far as the world knows, Freddie knew nothing about the marriage before we eloped. And without my guardian’s consent—”

“Then your brother can file for an annulment on your behalf.” The glass lowered away, the whiskey completely forgotten.

“Yes. On grounds of incompetency.” She held her breath, a part of her yet afraid of how he would react to the full ramifications of what that meant. “But it’s going to be a difficult process, with everyone from the Church and the courts attempting to make me change my mind and remain married.”

His eyes sparkled. “Then they don’t know the fight they have coming if they think they can make you do anything you don’t want to.”

She warmed at that quiet compliment, but it did little to ease her trepidation.

“I can’t do it alone.” She picked up the paper and tried to keep her hands from shaking as she refolded it and slipped it back into her pocket. “I have no money to hire lawyers, no status or standing to persuade the courts and Church to my side—” She cut herself off to take a deep breath as he slowly returned to her, still having no idea of what he thought about any of this. “And even if the annulment is granted, it’s unlikely I’ll ever see a single penny of my fortune returned to me.”

He stopped in front of her but said nothing, taking a large swallow of whiskey.

She shook her head. “My first fight in this battle might very well be with Freddie. He has to agree, publicly, that he never gave consent, or the annulment won’t happen.” She paused. “It will also mean scandal, no matter how much we try to keep the details private. For everyone involved.”

Worry tightened her belly. What she was asking would risk not only her own reputation and Freddie’s but also Pearce’s. Everything he’d worked so hard to achieve—his military rank, his respect as a peer, his fortune—all of it might be jeopardized if he chose to remain at her side for this fight. A fight that might take years to win, if at all. And where would he be then, tied to a woman who might be too old to give him an heir, the subject of scandalous gossip, a good chunk of his fortune gone to pay lawyers…

Judging from the grim way he looked down at her, he realized all that, too.

“Well then.” He held the glass out to her, giving her the last of his drink. “It’s a good thing you’re not going through this alone.”

Relief poured through her, and she blinked, hard, to clear her eyes of the tears that instantly blurred his handsome face. “You truly meant it, then?” she pressed breathlessly. “What you said earlier, that you have no intention of letting me go?”

He leaned down, placing his hands on the edge of the settee cushion on both sides of her and bringing his face level with hers. He reached to touch the little locket she wore around her neck. As his fingers caressed it, his eyes locked with hers. “I’ve got you back now, Amelia. Wild horses couldn’t drag you away from me.”

She fought back a smile as she teased, “What about tame ones?”

“Not those either. Or ponies, donkeys, jackasses…” He arched a brow. “Your brother.”

“Pearce,” she scolded, but any ferocity was lost beneath her soft laugh.

“Neither will our past, your husband, or society. Understand?”

“Then…” She inhaled a deep breath and reached to slip her hand behind his neck to tug him closer. “Will you marry me, Brandon Pearce? Do you promise to love and honor me, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health…in law courts or taverns?” He laughed, but the seriousness of the moment made her tremble as she laid her hand against his chest to feel the pulse of his strong heartbeat. “For as long as we both shall live?”

“I do.” He leaned in to kiss her. “I very much do.”

Twenty-two

Pearce glanced out the carriage window at the dark city. “Where exactly are we going?”

“To a special club meeting. That’s all I can tell you for now,” Howard answered, pleased at the idea of mystery.

But Pearce wasn’t pleased at all with the secrecy. The only consolation he had was that Merritt and his men were following behind, unseen in the darkness. In case anything went wrong.