Chapter 13

T he days passed in absolute bliss.

Winnie had never been so happy in her entire life. They traveled about the country, going from site to site, soaking it all in, and Ajax was the most remarkable companion. His brothers and cousin had gone on their own merry way, leaving them, as Zephyr said, to make starstruck eyes at each other.

For the first time in her entire life, someone not only listened to her as her brother did, but he also gazed upon her with adoration. Not just kindness or tolerance or, as was more typical, frustration and impatience.

No, this time with him was such a wonder that she could scarcely believe it.

He looked at her as if every word she said was fascinating. Surely, it wasn't possible that she had been so entirely misunderstood by the masses all these years, was it?

Had she simply needed to find someone who understood her? Apparently so.

Yes, she was not who had needed to change. She'd needed to change who she was with.

As they continued her adventure, they rode side by side in the coach. She often sat upon his lap. The intimacy that they could now embrace stunned her.

They kept the curtains down when they did that, of course, and many other things ensued. Things which caused her cheeks to burn with excitement and made her body tingle with desire.

Life was so incredibly wonderful in every way! She'd had no idea until she'd found Ajax.

When they were alone, they wound their hands together. They spoke of every single Shakespeare play: the merits and the failures of some of the plays.

Oh, how glorious it was!

They spoke of what it must have been like to have been an author in that time period—the Golden Age. A time when the world was full of dangers and suspicions, when nothing was truly safe and one's beliefs could easily get one killed.

Yes, each day was a glow of castles, and battlefields, and abbeys. Her heart was full, and she felt that nothing could be better than this, but with each day, and each inn, and each beautiful place in his company, she felt herself growing more fearful, if she was honest.

Surely, this could not last.

In her entire life, she'd never been allowed to have such happiness.

No, it had always been seized from her right when she felt she'd been about to grasp any sort of contentment. And then she'd been shoved away and kept quiet, told to sit down and close her mouth and keep her thoughts to herself.

She was coming out of her chrysalis now, like a caterpillar that was finally getting to be a butterfly, but she was terrified that some errant, cruel boy was going to find her and rip off her wings.

Ajax could never do that.

She knew that by looking into his eyes, being with him. His soul, his whole being, his heart was so beautiful that she sometimes wondered how it was that she had found him.

What chance of fate had slipped the idea to search for him into her head? Whatever it was, she was so grateful that Alfred had known so much about him.

Perhaps Ajax and his brothers were correct. Perhaps The Fates were at work. Perhaps this was always meant to happen. Perhaps there was no question that he was the one for her.

As the coach pulled into the inn late that dusky evening, she could still not quite trust that all would work out. Yes, Ajax had proposed marriage to her.

His brothers and his cousin knew.

And it seemed his whole family in London had been cheering on the union.

It would be highly unlikely now that Ajax would rescind such an offer, but she felt uneasy. For all of this seemed to be formed on duplicity—her lie to her mother and, of course, her masquerading as a young man about the countryside.

As they headed across the courtyard to the inn, she drew in a breath. She was being foolish. All would be well; everything would work out. Her life was different now.

The innkeeper spotted them, smiled, wiped his hands on his apron, and gave a quick pull of his forelock to Ajax. "How do you do, my lord? You're looking for a room this evening, is it?"

"That's correct," Ajax replied in his typical pleasant manner.

The innkeeper tsked and looked apologetic. "Well, we did just have another lord arrive. I think we might have a small space for you, but it might not be what you're accustomed to."

"That's quite acceptable," Ajax assured. "We don't mind a bit of rough, do we, Win?"

Winifred nodded, making sure that her face did not light up with excitement at the idea of being even closer to him than usual. "Oh, we'll manage," Winifred agreed in her best young man's voice.

"That is a relief because Lord Tuttle is most particular."

She stiffened. Lord Tuttle?

"He'll be down in a moment. Perhaps you would all like to dine together," the innkeeper said helpfully.

She swung her gaze to Ajax, even as fear laced through her. "My brother," she mouthed.

The innkeeper bounced on his booted feet. "Shall I take you upstairs?"

A muscle in Ajax's jaw tightened. "Perhaps not. Perhaps we need a moment outside." But before he could say another word, footsteps echoed down the corridor above and along the stairwell.

Panic clawed her throat. Had she made her brother appear with her worried thoughts? She'd been so certain it was all about to end. And now her brother was here.

She almost wondered if her thoughts had been like a magical spell, summoning trouble.

How she wished she could go back and eradicate all of those fears and think only good things, but she could not. It was too late.

She stared up at the archway over the stairwell.

She spotted her older brother, the lord—the one who did everything correctly and was looking for a wife just as their mother wished him to—and their eyes locked.

For a moment, Winston, with his dark hair and soft brown eyes, looked uncomprehending.

He stared at her for a very long moment and, for a second, she thought perhaps her disguise was good enough.

After all, she wasn't herself.

She was dressed as a boy. Then his mouth dropped open. He swung his gaze to Lord Ajax and then back to her.

A fire crackled in Winston's gaze, one mixed with horror.

"My lord," the innkeeper called happily. "May I introduce you?"

"Please do," her brother said tightly as he came down the steps, his polished boots shining in the lights flickering on the walls.

"This is Lord Ajax Briarwood and his companion, one Mr. Win Tucker, I believe."

Her brother cocked his head to the side, but his gaze was as sharp as a razor. "Oh, indeed. A pleasure to meet you both. Shall we share a glass to welcome the evening in?"

"Of course," Lord Ajax said.

She was amazed at his calm demeanor. She was a mass of nerves and longed to flee to the safety of their coach.

The innkeeper gestured towards a doorway to the left. "That room is always kept waiting for esteemed guests. There's claret and Madeira for you."

With that, her brother turned on his booted heel, his back stiff as a coffin board, and she felt as if a funeral was waiting for her. He strode through the door that the innkeeper had gestured to, and she exchanged a look with Ajax.

He smiled down at her and whispered, "Do not worry. Nothing will go amiss, and I shall not leave your side."

She nodded, though her stomach was churning. "All right."

Together, they went in to face her brother.

He was studying the fire. He'd already poured out three glasses of wine, which she did not mistake for a hospitable action. Instead, it felt ominous, as if he was ready to weigh his condemnation upon them but felt the need for them to all have libation first.

They were clearly all going to need it.

"Explain yourselves," Winston ground out coldly, not even bothering to look at them.

Ajax drew in a breath and began, "My lord, it is I—"

"I don't want to hear from you," Winston snapped. "At least not yet. I want to know what she's doing here, unless, of course, you've kidnapped her. Have you kidnapped her, Lord Ajax? I'm sure, as the brother of the Duke of Westleigh, you think that you are powerful enough to get away with such a thing."

Ajax ground his teeth, clearly disgusted by the stain on his character.

Offended on his behalf, she piped up quickly. "Of course not, brother. He's been ever so kind."

"Worse and worse," her brother bit out. "Sister, you have been seduced by a rake. What the bloody hell are you thinking?"

Her brother turned, and his entire face was a mask of disappointment. His eyes sparked with fury, and his hands were curled into tight fists.

"Are you harmed?" he gritted. "Has he hurt you? Has he forced you here?"

She supposed she should be grateful that he was asking those questions and not immediately condemning her. "No. If you must know, I sought him out."

"You sought him out?" her brother choked. "This is your idea? To be taken about the countryside, to dress as a boy, and to, I assume, be deflowered by him?"

Ajax let out a noise of protest.

"Brother," she said, rushing, lest Ajax say something he regret, "please. While you are not necessarily incorrect, that is not what I sought him out for. You see, Mama told me that I was to be sent down to the country—"

"And rightly, apparently," her brother sneered. "I tried to defend you, you know. I suggested to Mother that you should have at least one more year of company and fun before you were sent away, but now I see I should have done it sooner. And perhaps I should have called a doctor in to see if you are in your right mind."

She sucked in a sharp breath.

"Take it back," growled Ajax, his voice so low and so cold that it sent a shudder down her spine.

But her brother did not take it back. Instead, Winston's mouth thinned into a line, making his disgust apparent.

"I have not lost my wits," she stated, hoping to God she could pacify Winston before this escalated. "If anything, I have gained them. I sought Lord Ajax out because I could not bear the idea of being shut away for the rest of my life to live such a little existence. I wanted to see a bit of the world, to see a bit of the things I loved."

"And now?" her brother challenged. "Now that you're completely and totally ruined."

"I'm not ruined," she countered. "No one knows that I'm here—"

"It is only a matter of time before the scandal gets out," her brother hissed. "You know that."

"And I know that there will be no scandal," Ajax declared. "She is to be my wife."

Her brother turned to Ajax and blinked before he let out a dry laugh. "You think there will be no scandal, my lord? That a man like you would want to marry my sister? Everyone will assume the worst and that you have indeed ruined her. They will assume that she is with child. It is the only possible reason a man like you would marry someone like her."

"Someone like her," Ajax echoed, and she could hear the low, building anger in his voice. "Say something like that again," Ajax gritted, "and I'll call you out."

"Ajax," she said. "He's my brother."

"And he's a scoundrel," Ajax stated.

"Go ahead and call me out, Lord Ajax, if that's what you must do. But you are actually the scoundrel here to take a young, unmarried woman into the country to do what you will with her," Winston said coldly, his voice frighteningly quiet. "You are the educated one here. You are the one with knowledge of the world. You have taken advantage of her, no matter what you say."

Ajax paused and lifted his chin. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I understand things that she never could, but whose fault is that? I will tell you this, Tuttle. You have underestimated your sister. She's superior to any lady I know, and she will make a great wife to me."

"If I allow it," her brother stated.

"You cannot tell me no," she rushed, his words piercing her. "I am of age."

"Oh, perhaps that's true," her brother agreed, his lip curling, "but I can make it publicly known that you are a disgrace and that I am cutting you off. That's just the start. There are other avenues I can take…"

She sucked in a short breath. "You would never do such a thing. It would ruin the family."

"You're ruining it already," he ground out. "Do you not understand that? And for what? For pleasure? For selfishness?"

Winifred drew herself up, even as a war began inside her. A war of the old Winifred and the new. "I have never been selfish in my whole life."

Her brother snorted. "That's not true. I've tried to be on your side for years, Winnie. You and your strange habits and turns of phrase. I put up with them. But why couldn't you just be like everyone else?"

Her eyes stung with tears. "I tried," she rasped. "I tried so hard."

"You do not need to defend yourself," Ajax stated, his body radiating with fury. "I'm going to take her to your mother. I shall explain the situation, and we shall get married, and that shall be the end of it."

A long pause followed, and for a moment, she was certain that Ajax's declaration would end it all. That the pain would vanish and her fears would dissipate.

"No. No, it won't," Winston said. "I shall take her to my mother. We shall discuss this as a family. You will come and call. That is a condition I have in order to allow this marriage to go forward."

"I could take her to Gretna Green tomorrow, and you couldn't say a thing."

"You could try," her brother said. "But I cannot allow such dishonor to stain my family. Nor ruin my youngest sister's chances."

Winifred swung her gaze back and forth between them. "Please, I cannot bear this conversation. I will go with you, brother. Of course I shall. This is ridiculous. We shall work it out among families, as respectable people do. Ajax, you will come and call on my mother. You may bring your brother, the duke." She forced a smile. "How could my mother say no to that?"

"I don't want to let you go," Ajax gritted.

"You're not letting me go," she insisted, afraid the men might threaten a duel or worse if this could not be settled through contracts and negotiations.

Her heart pounded with terror. For though she declared that he wasn't letting her go, something deep and old and instinctual inside her screamed that they were being ripped apart.

"Please," she urged, "if this is what my brother demands for us to marry peaceably, without a scandal and without harming my little sister," she said softly, realizing what her brother was so furious about, "then that is what we must do."

"Where's Alfred?" her brother suddenly barked.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"He said that you were with him visiting friends, and that is clearly a lie, so where is he?" Winston demanded.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "He's having his own adventure. He didn't want to tell me about it."

Her brother ground his teeth. "I see," he said. "Well then, Lord Ajax, I shall take her to London immediately, and you should return as well. Our families shall settle it. That is enough for now."

With that, her brother crossed to her and started to take her by the arm.

"No," she said.

"What do you mean no?"

"Clearly, we won't leave with the sun setting." She squared her shoulders and declared, "I'm going to stay with him tonight. With my soon-to-be husband."

"Do not be ridiculous," her brother spat.

"I have never been ridiculous," she countered, her spine straightening and her confidence growing. She'd go with him, but she was no longer a sheep to be herded. "It is the world that is ridiculous."

"Argue with me any more on this and I, as your next of kin, shall make certain that you can never marry anyone."

Ajax took a step forward. "That is a dangerous threat."

"But it is also the truth," Winston said. "And you know that I could do it. We will not stay here this night. I do not care if we risk the road at night. This scandal ends now."

Her heart slammed against her ribs, and the reality of it all crashed down upon her. The bubble of the beauty of the last days burst, and she feared she might never find it again.

Ajax swallowed and locked gazes with her. "Don't be afraid," he said. "We shall not be parted long. Nothing can part us for long."

"Of course not," she replied. "We are fated," she said, even though her own heart sank.

Winifred lifted her chin and went with her brother, but she knew this was not the end of it. There was something about the way her brother was acting, but she was no longer the girl she once was, and she wasn't going to take whatever his edict was without a fight.