Page 119 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Already married?” Eve echoed.

“There was even a notice in the paper,” Tolland said.

“I never agreed to any of this,” she said in a whisper.

“Are you telling me Rushton forced himself on you?” Tolland demanded. “If you tell me that, Eve, I will shoot him here and now.”

Her cheeks reddened. “No, no, of course not. It is just…”

She looked at Erroll and he knew she was thinking of the pleasure he’d given her moments ago. By God, he’d made a mess of that, hadn’t he? He thought he had three weeks to allow her to come to terms with marrying him so he had…had what? Bloody hell, he had no idea anymore.

“Apparently, all of Gretna Green knows you dueled Halifax because he kidnapped your betrothed,” the marquess said. “That public announcement was simply the confirmation of marriage.”

It was so ridiculous Erroll wanted to laugh. “You do remember the duel, my dear?”

“It is burned into my brain.”

His as well.

“I told you that duel was a bad idea.” She dropped down on the seat beside his mother. “Just as I told you that coming uninvited into my room was a bad idea.”

“Indeed, you did.”

She addressed her father. “If Lord Rushton and I are married, why are we here?”

“It is best you sign the marriage contract and that the Registrar witness and record the marriage,” he replied.

“As we are already man and wife, this could have waited until a more reasonable hour,” she said with asperity. Erroll barked a laugh and she shot him a recriminating look, then demanded, “Where are the papers?”

Erroll’s father rose and retrieved the documents from the desk in the corner. He brought them, along with a pen and book.

“Please sit down,” he told her.

She sat on the couch and signed each document as instructed. “I assume you saw to everything in the contract, Papa?”

“I did.”

“Then I need not worry for an instant.” She signed the contract with a flourish that told Erroll the wedding night might not be all that smooth, then laid the pen on top of the document, and the marquess took everything to Erroll, who did the same.

“Is it official?” Erroll’s mother asked the Registrar, once Erroll had signed the last paper and the marquess had handed him the documents.

The Registrar flipped through the papers, signed one sheet, then looked at her. “It is, my lady. You have Lord and Lady Rushton.”

Erroll glimpsed the flicker of panic in his new wife’s eyes. He didn’t blame her. Any woman of character would react with shock at hearing herself called by his name—one very good reason he had so determinedly avoided the ladies who had decided they wanted the title: lack of character.

His mother took Eve’s hand in hers. “We welcome you to the family. We will plan a party for the day after tomorrow.”

“Do not put yourself to any bother,” Eve said.

“A party is never trouble for Mother,” Erroll said.

“Indeed not,” she said. “I adore parties. However, that is for us to worry about tomorrow. It is still the wee hours of the morning, and I think everyone would do well to retire.”

“Thank you,” Eve said. “It has been a trying day.” She rose and everyone followed suit.

Her father came to her and grasped her shoulders. “I know this is not what either of us planned, but you could have done far worse.”

Erroll wondered if Tolland was thinking that Eve could have ended up married to Lord Blane, who Erroll had heard was so deep in gambling debts that it was expected he would turn up dead or disappear on a ship bound for Australia.

Tolland hugged his daughter and stepped back as Grace Crenshaw offered what appeared to be sincere congratulations. Eve accepted all this with polite acquiescence, then allowed Somerset to bow over her hand as he congratulated her.

“I will show you to your room,” his mother said at last.

“Thank you, but I can find my way,” Eve said.

“No, my dear. We have one of the private suites ready for you and Erroll.”

Eve’s mouth parted in surprise and for an instant Erroll feared she would cry. He started toward her, but his mother pulled her into a hug and Erroll halted as he glimpsed the shock on Eve’s face. To his surprise, she hugged his mother fiercely, then seemed to recall herself and stepped back.

“I am ready.”

Erroll was caught between wanting to laugh and the dawning comprehension that he was married without so much as a kiss or a drink to herald the event. He was also struck with the realization that the next woman he made love to would be his wife. By God, was he ready?