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Chapter 8
“It’s her!” the slurred voice shouted from above.
Gabriel cursed, spurred the horse on, and galloped away.
Evie clung tightly to Gabriel’s chest, pressing her cheek into his vest. That man yelling from the window was definitely the one sent after her. He was probably not alone, either. The sly Lady Montbrook would rather see her dead than married, evidenced by the thugs she’d sent after her.
And they’d found her.
“It’s all right,” Gabriel shouted over the sounds of the wind and horse’s hoofs. “He was too drunk to follow us at such a pace.”
Evie nodded against his chest, although she wasn’t so certain he was correct. Either way, this would all be over soon.
With incredible luck for the second time in a sennight, Evie traveled during the night and wasn’t accosted by brigands. Her luck was bound to run out soon. She prayed it wouldn’t happen before she married.
They arrived in Gretna Green with the first light of morning. Gabriel stopped the horse near a blacksmith shop. According to gossip, that’s where people got married in Scotland.
Gabriel hopped down from the horse, then took her by the waist and lowered her to the ground. His hair was mussed from the wind, his golden mane dirt-streaked and no longer shining. His cravat was gray and rumpled as if it had been balled in a fist for several hours. The rest of his clothing wasn’t well groomed either, his boots taking most of the toll. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face covered with grime.
Evie looked him up and down, laughter bubbling from inside of her. She put her hand to her mouth and proceeded to laugh in earnest.
“What?” Gabriel frowned down his length and looked back at her.
Evie couldn’t stop laughing. The nerves, the lack of sleep, and their journey were finally taking a toll on her sanity. “You”—she paused for air—“you look hideous.”
Gabriel huffed a tiny chuckle, looked himself over once again, and then looked back at her. “You, my darling, are not looking any better.”
“I know!” Evie hugged her stomach and wheezed with laughter. “But you…” She tried to catch her breath unsuccessfully. “You’re supposed to be this handsome rake… Seducer of innocents.” She doubled over again. “Look at you!”
Gabriel finally joined in on the laughter. “You are supposed to be a diamond of the first water, the haughty duchess. What would your hundreds of suitors say?”
Evie rubbed her eyes, wiping the tears. “They would run like wild dogs were on their tails.” She stopped, and her eyes widened in horror. “Oh, my God, my hair!”
She put her hands on her hair and realized no amount of palming would ever do it any good. She couldn’t see it, but it felt like she had a bird’s nest on her head. She leaned her forehead against Gabriel’s rumpled, dirty waistcoat, shaking with laughter.
“Some bride and groom, huh?” she said between chuckles. “Samantha and I wagered that whoever married last between the two of us would have to wear a gown the color of manure.” She looked down her length. “She’d be delighted to know that she got her forfeit.”
“Well, at least right now, we are a perfect couple.” Gabriel placed his arms around her and rubbed her back with a soothing motion. “Are you ready to become my lady wife?”
Evie shook her head against his chest. She then drew away and wiped at the place her forehead was touching a moment ago. “I just smeared the dirt here,” she said, grinning.
“Look at it this way. Maybe nobody will recognize you now. I mean, your hair does not shine anymore. It is almost ordinary, a dull red now.”
Evie smiled at the implied compliment.
Gabriel extended his hand. “Shall we?”
Evie took his hand, and together they walked to the blacksmith’s door. Gabriel gave it a loud knock.
No answer.
He knocked again.
Still no answer.
Evie broke out in hysterical laughter again.
“Would you cease that?” Gabriel couldn’t hold back his own laugh.
