Page 17 of How to Catch an Heiress

He looked confused. “The rings.”

“A mere formality. Where is the damned registry?”

The man hurried to the book lying left of the altar. Stirling followed. Chastity tried to kick, and his signature came out as shaky as an old man’s.

He looked at the duke. “Your Grace, would you lift the book so my wife can sign?”

“I will not sign,” she muttered.

“The carriage awaits us, Chastity,” Stirling warned.

The duke hefted the big book up and Stirling turned so that Chastity faced it. She went stiff.

“Sign,” the duke said, “or I will annul the marriage and marry you to Lord Bigly.”

“What?” she cried. “What of Lord Hathaway?”

“He is too good for you. Lord Bigly is older and certainly more reprehensible to you.”

“You are a traitor,” she cried, and grabbed the quill from him.

She signed with a jerky motion and Stirling didn’t wait for anything more, but strode from the chapel, with her rigid over his shoulder. He emerged from the church and hurried down the steps to the nearest carriage.

“Excuse me, sir,” the driver called when he opened the door, “but I’m waiting for Mrs. MacPherson.”

“She gave me leave to borrow her carriage. Begin to drive, now.”

“Where to, sir?”

“Stay in the country.” Stirling tossed Chastity onto the seat and vaulted inside. A cheer went up as he pulled the door shut.

She glared at him in the dim light. “Stay on your side of the coach,” she warned. “I married you, so you have no reason to carry out your threat to-to—” She growled in frustration.

The carriage started forward with a squeaky wheel and a clop of horses’ hooves on stone.

He stared back. “Do not play the injured miss with me. We are not parked outside the church, so no one will be privy to our lovemaking.”

Her mouth fell open. “You forced me to marry you—”

“Forced you? I beg to differ,” he said on a laugh. “This entire scheme was your idea.”

She started to reply, then glared.

“Why did you run away?” he demanded.

“I didn’t. I went for a walk.”

“You expect me to believe that?” he said.

Her eyes narrowed. “Wouldn’t you want to clear your head if you were going to marry you?”

Stirling blinked. How did he respond to that logic?

The carriage jostled over a bump. “When have I ever hesitated to tell you what I thought?” she demanded.

She had a point. Good God, he was a bigger fool than the three men he had married to her sisters. He thought she had run and he’d nearly lost his mind.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered.