Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

" W here are we going to find them?" James asked as he and Nathan approached Barry, the sunset lighting up the sky in reds, oranges, and yellows that might have been beautiful if he had the capacity to notice beauty anymore. "We have no idea where in Barry they might be."

"We are going to have to check every inn," Nathan said, pulling his horse up next to James's. He was scanning the town in front of them as if he might just see their quarry.

It had been a long, hard ride to Barry. They had left London a day and a half ago, barely stopping except to water their horses. And while James still felt wide awake—the fear coursing through every inch of him—he was sure that his cousin was exhausted. It made him appreciate Nathan even more.

But now they were here, and they couldn't afford to be tired.

"Do you think they already got married?" he asked as he dug his heels into the flanks of his horse and urged her forward. "Do you think it's too late?"

This was the question that had haunted him throughout the journey. On horseback, he could travel faster than Violet and Crampton, who were presumably in a carriage, but they still had half a day's headstart on him. If his calculations were correct, she and Crampton had arrived in Barry a few hours earlier. It was possible that she and Redfield had already gotten married.

"We can only hope and pray that they are not," Nathan said as calmly and as patiently as it was possible in such a dire situation.

"Let's get started," James urged. "We have no time to waste."

"And you're sure you understand everything I'm asking of you?" Violet asked, looking into the eyes of the maid her father had found to help her with her hair and dress for the wedding.

The girl, whose name was Hannah, couldn't be more than fifteen and had been surprisingly good at twisting Violet's freshly washed hair into an acceptable coiffure and ironing her dress. Even more importantly, she listened calmly and deliberately as Violet explained the situation and what she needed.

"I understand, Milady," Hannah said, her eyes narrowed and her jaw tight with determination. "You want me to find out if a gentleman has arrived from London, a duke by the name of Attorton."

"Yes. And you are to tell him where I am and that he should come at once. He will understand." Violet paused for a moment. "Do you think that will be possible?"

"I think so," Hannah nodded. "Barry is small, and new arrivals always spark gossip and questions. Your arrival was noted as soon as you rode into town."

"And Lord Redfield? Was his arrival noted?"

"Who?" Hannah looked confused. "Oh, the man who arrived two days before you? He presented himself as Mr. Crane, but yes, his arrival was noted."

"I just don't have much time," Violet sighed. "You must find the Duke in the next hour. It is of the utmost importance."

"There's a posting inn a quarter of a mile down the road," Hannah said. "More likely than not, that's where he'll go first, to let his horse rest and get directions to the inns and churches in town. I can go there first and leave word that anyone who sees him is to tell him to come here."

"Thank you," Violet whispered, tears springing to her eyes. "Thank you for helping me. Here…" She reached into her reticule and pulled out a pound note. "Please, take this, for your trouble."

"Oh, no, Milady," Hannah insisted, her eyes going wide. "I couldn't accept that."

"But you are helping me!"

Hannah shook her head. "Not for payment, Milady. My sister married a cruel man a few years ago. She didn't want to marry him, but he owns a shop, and he was a good match. My mama encouraged her, but it has been an unhappy marriage. I'd do anything to save another woman from that fate." She looked sad for a moment. "Truthfully, I thought rich ladies didn't have to marry bad men. I thought you had more choice."

"Sometimes, but not always," Violet said sadly.

She thought of her mother. She thought of herself. It was enough to make her want to scream, but right now, she had to focus .

She took Hannah's hands in hers. "Go now, Hannah, and please hurry. My life is in your hands."

"Yes, Milady," the girl whispered. She curtsied and then scurried out of the room.

Violet felt only a deep hollowness. Time was running out, and she knew, in her heart of hearts, that it was too late.

James pulled his horse up in front of the posting inn. At once, the door opened, and a groomsman came out, wiping his hands, clearly having just finished supper.

"This horse needs rest and water," James said as he dismounted. Behind him, Nathan was also dismounting. "And I need the name of the seediest inn in Barry."

The groomsman stared at him, a little affronted. "The seediest inn. This is a reputable town, My Lord."

James gritted his teeth. In his impatience and fear, he was behaving like a ruffian. He looked back at Nathan, whose haggard face betrayed his tiredness.

"Excuse the Duke of Attorton," Nathan said, stepping forward. "We are looking for someone—perhaps you could help us?"

The groomsman's eyes went wide at James's title, and he hurriedly and awkwardly bowed. "Forgive me, Your Grace, I did not realize?—"

"No, it was I who was in the wrong," James assured him. "We are looking for two people who arrived in town yesterday, in an unmarked carriage. It would be an older gentleman and his daughter. It's possible there were more men with them, or servants, or… bodyguards."

"Bodyguards?" The groomsman was gaping at him now.

"Just servants," Nathan interjected. "Has anyone arrived in town today who might match that description? Both the gentleman and the lady have dark hair and green eyes."

"The lady is particularly beautiful," James couldn't help but add.

"There was a carriage that arrived earlier," the groomsman said. "I changed the horses for the gentleman. I do believe he was with a lady, but I didn't get a good look at her. She stayed in the carriage. The gentleman was mostly gray, but aye, his hair was dark. Not sure about the color of his eyes, though."

"What was the gentleman like?" James asked, his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage. "Was he impatient? Rude?"

"He was not the most gentlemanly," the groomsman admitted. "He said they were in a hurry."

"That must be him," James said at once.

"And did they change horses and ride out of Barry?" Nathan asked the groomsman. "Or did they stay here?"

"They were staying here. I asked the gentleman if he needed a recommendation for an inn, but he said had everything sorted. And when I came back from watering the horses, they were gone. I'm not sure where they went." The groomsman took in the devastated look on James's face and added, quite sincerely, "I'm sorry, Your Grace."

"Thank you for your time," Nathan said when James said nothing.

The groomsman nodded and walked away, and James let out a frustrated breath. He was so close but still so far away. It was no good. There was no hope.

And then, he couldn't hold it in anymore. Kicking at the ground, he let out a roar of anger, fear, sadness, and guilt. It tore out of his throat, and he heard the groomsman gasp in fear and the horses whinny. But he didn't care. The world was ending, and he could do nothing to stop it.

"Excuse me? Yer Grace?" James turned at the sound of a girl's timid voice.

Standing behind him was a girl dressed as a maid. She looked winded, as if she had run to reach the posting inn, but her eyes were shining with purpose and excitement.

"You are the Duke of Attorton?" she asked, looking him up and down as if for proof. "I heard William call you ‘ Yer Grace'… and she said you'd be here."

"Yes, I am the Duke of Atterton," James confirmed at once, a strange, surreal feeling washing over him. Goosebumps spread up his arms and legs. "She? Who is she? Who said I'd be here?"

Could she be talking about Violet?

"Lady Crampton," the girl said, and James felt as if someone had just told him he'd narrowly escaped death. "She told me you'd be here, that you'd come to rescue her."

"Where is she?" James whispered, paralyzed and full of energy at the same time. "Is she married yet?"

"Not yet," the girl said. "But we must hurry."

"Violet, it's time."

Violet looked up from her reflection in the dirty, cracked mirror of the vanity in the bedroom to see her father standing at the door. He had washed and changed into a black velvet jacket that looked less worn than the one he'd been wearing before.

Her throat very dry, Violet nodded. She wasn't sure her legs would work, but somehow, she managed to stand up and cross the room to where her father was waiting for her.

"You look very beautiful," he remarked.

For a moment, Violet thought she saw a flicker of pride in his eyes. He offered her arm, and she took it numbly before they stepped out into the hallway.

"The vicar is downstairs. We will have a simple ceremony in the parlor of the inn. I know it isn't very grand, but given the circumstances…"

Violet didn't trust herself to speak, so she merely nodded again.

As they walked down the hallway, she had the feeling that she was walking not to her wedding, but to the guillotine.

"This is better than your first wedding, isn't it?" Her father chuckled. "This time, your father is here to give you away."

Violet didn't respond to this. She thought she would be sick as he led her down the stairs. She couldn't breathe, but she kept going.

How many minutes have passed since Hannah left? Has she made it to the posting inn? Will James be there?

She had no hope anymore. No hope whatsoever.

The door to the parlor opened. Someone had opened it on the inside. She felt as if she were going to faint.

Her father led her into the room. It was still shabby, but someone had put several bouquets of flowers on the mantel. They'd also strewn flower petals along the aisle. Several chairs had been set up on either side. In the front row was the innkeeper and a woman who looked like his wife. Both rose when Violet and Jebediah entered.

They were looking at her with slightly bemused looks on their faces, as if they didn't understand why they had been asked to be witnesses at the wedding of a viscount.

Violet locked gazes with the innkeeper's wife, and the woman's eyebrows knitted together, concern etched on her face.

She knows . She knows I don't want to do this. But what can she do?

At the end of the aisle stood the vicar, a sickly-looking man who avoided her gaze. Next to him stood Lord Redfield. He was the only person in the room who was dressed as if he were at the wedding of a peer. His clothes were of the finest quality—they didn't disguise the self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

A note suddenly rang out in the room, and Violet turned to see a drunk-looking man fumbling with a rickety piano in the corner of the room.

This wedding is a farce . She took a step forward. But it's still happening.

Far too soon, she found herself standing at the altar. Her father took her hand and placed it on top of Lord Redfield's, and she turned to face her groom.

"Dearly Beloved…" the vicar began.

"Hurry!" James yelled as he bolted down the street. "We don't have time!"

Hannah had given them the direction to the inn, and James hadn't stopped to try and re-saddle his horse. His urgency quickened his steps. He felt as if he were flying down the street. Those he passed looked shocked to see a gentleman racing down the street.

It was getting hard to breathe. He stopped for a moment and ripped off his cravat, then, after a second of hesitation, he pulled off his jacket. He left both on the ground, right in front of an elderly couple who were walking arm-in-arm. Both gaped at him. A little girl nearby gasped.

He began to run again.

Right at the fork , Hannah had said. Then immediately left. Two blocks, then right again. Then it's the third building on the left. The Goosedown Inn.

Right. He turned right.

A small alleyway to his left. Did she mean that or the street farther down?

He went down the alleyway.

At the end of the lane—two blocks?—he turned right again.

And there it was, The Goosedown Inn, a green building with white shutters.

His legs were screaming at him. His lungs were burning. But as James began to run towards the inn, he didn't notice any of the pain. Only one thought raced through his mind— Violet.

Well, two thoughts. The second thought guided his hand to the pistol, and as he arrived at the door, he cocked it.

"… but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God; duly considering the causes for which Matrimony was ordained."

Violet could barely hear the words the vicar was saying. They went in one ear and out of the other. All she could hear was the beating of her heart and the desperate plea in her head.

"First, it was ordained for the procreation of children, to be brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord, and to the praise of his holy Name."

James. I wanted children with you more than I ever admitted. I wanted to see your face in our son, to see you play with our daughter.

"Secondly, it was ordained for a remedy against sin, and to avoid fornication; that such persons as have not the gift of continency might marry, and keep themselves undefiled members of Christ's body."

It wouldn't have been a sin for us to love each other as man and wife. We were bound together in holy matrimony. Ours was a sacred vow. And the love in my heart is the most sacred vow of all.

"Thirdly, It was ordained for the mutual society, help, and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity."

I should have stuck with you through all the adversity we faced. But I gave up. I let my father manipulate and control me. I should have just admitted everything to you when I came in with the annulment papers. I should have trusted you would fight for me. All I want is to help and comfort you for the rest of my life.

Violet looked up, tears in her eyes. She glanced at the innkeeper's wife. She looked at the vicar. She looked at her father.

"Therefore, if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace."

A heartbeat passed. Maybe two. Then three things happened at the same time.

There was a crash from outside the parlor, as if someone had kicked down the front door of the inn.

Then, the innkeeper's wife shouted, "This is a farce! The lady clearly doesn't want to marry this man! I object! I object!"

And then a gun went off.

Jebediah tensed up, Lord Redfield's mouth fell open, and Violet turned towards the door of the parlor.

A second later, it flew open, and James Bolden, the Duke of Attorton, her husband , strode in, a smoking pistol in his hand.

"Sorry to crash the nuptials," he said into the stunned silence, "but that's my wife you're trying to marry."