The Wedding Escape Read Online Free Page A

meant nothing to him—it was only I who had captured his heart.” Her eyes flashed with challenge. “Do you find that so impossible to believe, Mr. Kent?”
    She was an enigma, Jack realized. One moment she seemed as forlorn as an abandoned child, huddled amidst the ragged remains of her gown with her scratched hands and her red-rimmed eyes. And the next she was like an outraged angel, filling the carriage with her strength and her passion as she defended the man to whom she believed she had united her soul. If this Philmore had any inkling of the woman breathing beneath the shimmering trappings of wealth and cultivation in which her family had swaddled her, he would have been a fool not to want her.
    Unfortunately, in Jack’s experience, most men born to a life of privilege were utter morons.
    He didn’t have time for this nonsense, he reminded himself impatiently. He was scheduled to meet with the manager of his shipping company to review its finances and finalize the details of the shipments scheduled for the next four months. He planned to remain in Inverness for no more than three days before boarding his ship for Ceylon. He didn’t have time to go traipsing off to London to deliver Miss Belford into the arms of her paramour. But what the devil was he to do with her? He could hardly drag her all the way back to Inverness against her will and then abandon her. By helping her escape her marriage to Whitcliffe, he had inadvertently assumed responsibility for her, at least temporarily.
    The most logical course of action was to see Miss Belford safely deposited into someone else’s trust. While that would inconveniently delay his business dealings by a day or two, it would absolve Jack of any further responsibility regarding her welfare. If Philmore was as happy to see her as Miss Belford claimed he would be, then Jack could leave her in his tender charge to marry or do whatever she bloody well pleased while he got on with his own affairs.
    â€œOliver,” he called, “we’re going to London after all.”
    Oliver abruptly halted the horses and turned to scowl at him, his white brows knotted in exasperation. “Are ye sure, lad? I can always just stop for a bit at the side of the road while the two of ye make up yer minds. After all, I’ve nae better to do on this blisterin’ afternoon.”
    â€œI’m quite sure, Oliver,” Jack replied, wholly untroubled by the old man’s churlish attitude. “Just get us there as quickly as you can.”
    â€œFine. London it is.” He grumbled something more under his breath that Jack couldn’t quite hear as he snapped the reins smartly over the horses’ hindquarters.
    â€œIs he always quite so—discourteous?” wondered Amelia, amazed by the rude tone the driver had taken with Jack.
    â€œFrequently.”
    â€œThen why don’t you discharge him?”
    â€œBecause he has been part of my family for years.”
    Amelia didn’t know what to make of that. Her mother had discharged scores of servants for far less serious infractions than the impertinent manner Oliver had taken with Jack. Certainly none of them were ever thought of as part of the family.
    â€œWas he always a coachman?” She couldn’t imagine another employer tolerating the old man’s insolence.
    â€œActually, he was a thief.” Jack was amused by the look of incredulity on her face. “And quite a good one, too.”
    Amelia stared in fascination at the back of Oliver’s snowy head. She had never met a criminal of any kind before—at least, not knowingly. “Didn’t you check his references?”
    â€œActually, I didn’t hire him,” Jack told her. “My mother employed him years ago. She took him straight from the Inveraray jail to her home, and certainly wasn’t expecting him to have any references.”
    â€œWasn’t she concerned about having a dangerous