“Good evening, Daisy,” Geoff said from the darkness of the interior. “And a good evening to you, too, Mrs. Masters,” he said as Helena stepped in behind Daisy. “I’m sorry that we have to meet in such a clandestine manner, but we don’t want to be observed. Good,” he told Leland, who followed Helena into the coach. “Now we can leave; we have a long way yet to go.”

The coach rattled down the side alley, over the rough cobbles, and then turned into the high street.

“It sounds like thunder,” Daisy said nervously. “Anyone can hear it.”

“The hotel gets deliveries at night,” Leland said. “They’ll take no notice. Anyway, the coins I left with the staff will muffle the noise. Just sit back. Sleep if you wish.”

“Sleep?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes,” he said. “No one expects scintillating conversation now. Sit back, close your eyes, and when you wake, we’ll be there.”

“I couldn’t sleep!” she declared. “What sort of a person do you think I am? I’m sneaking out of London to escape the Runners, off to marry a man in order to save my neck, and you say ‘sleep’?”

“Doze, then,” Leland said calmly.

“Well, you may sleep if you wish,” she said heatedly. “But I could not, not for anything.”

“Very well, fight then,” he said equitably, lay back against the leather squabs, and closed his eyes.

Daisy could see him do it. It was a soft, late spring evening. Even though it was full dark, fair skies and a half moon made it bright enough to see, once her eyes had adjusted to the dark. “We should have left on a cloudy night,” she said moodily.

“And risk getting our wheels mired if it started to rain? I think not,” Leland said, without opening an eye.

“The farther we go, the easier it will be,” the earl told her. “The coachman is taking a side route for a while, and there’s a footman on back of the carriage to see if we’re being followed. There’s our other coach, following slowly, with your maid and our valets. So you may rest easy, Daisy. We’re here to watch over you. And you’re doing the right thing.”

“I wish I was sure of that,” she said. “Oh, I’m not complaining. I know what I must do, and believe me, I’m grateful for your sacrifice and cooperation. But when I think of the future…”

“So don’t,” Leland said lazily. “Such a lot of trouble anticipating trouble. Just live for the moment and let the next ones fall into place. You’re getting married. You’re ensuring your freedom.”

“I have come to see that is a contradiction in terms,” she said coldly.

“Daisy!” Helena gasped. “Excuse me, but I must tell you that’s rude. Think of your groom, and how he must feel. He’s doing a brave and noble thing.”

“Yes,” Daisy said, abashed. “I’m sorry. That was rude. I am fully aware of the honor being done me.”

“Now that sounds worse,” Leland commented, opening an eye.

“Well, I meant it,” she said angrily.

“My dear, we know it,” the earl said. “Stop teasing her, Lee.”

“Oh yes,” Leland said. “I beg your pardon. I ought to let her sit and stew and worry, instead of lacing into me, which, by the way, seems to elevate her mood considerably.”

The earl turned in outrage to stare at Leland, but before he could say anything, he heard a giggle.

“Too right,” Daisy said, her voice filled with laughter. “I’ve a terrible temper. I suppose I use it too much these days, but you’ve no idea of what a luxury that is! It’s so nice to quarrel without being afraid of being slapped. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to snap your head off.”

“Quite all right,” Leland said graciously.

“But marriage is a big step,” she said, “especially being married in such a hurry. Although, mind, I’m grateful, I really am. So, I’m nervous. But I’d be a sight more so if I thought Bow Street was going to clap me in jail. They can’t now, right?”

“They can’t and won’t,” Geoff reassured her. “I’ve spoken to many people in power, as has Lee, and even if Bow Street were to stop us now, they couldn’t put you in jail, not right away. And once you’re married, they likely never can. We have some influence, you know. You won’t be an obscure ex-convict anymore, but a woman married to a gentleman of standing, with friends in the right places. Someone wants to make trouble for you. We’ll find out who it is and they’ll be in for a surprise. It’s a crime to give false witness. Don’t worry. We’re here, so are you, and so you will remain. I promise that.”

“Thank you,” Daisy said softly.

But nevertheless, the earl sat on the edge of his seat until the coach had left London and was rolling along the road west.

No one spoke for a while. Daisy could see Leland, across from her; his eyes were closed again, his hands folded in his lap, his long body relaxed. In time, Helena closed her eyes, and by her deep and even breathing, Daisy could tell she was sleeping, too. The earl also finally closed his eyes, and Daisy soon heard him accompanying Helena with light, regular snores.

She felt like the only person awake in the world. She stared into the darkness outside the coach. The coachman had stopped to light the lamps once they’d left Town, and now she could see their bright, intermittent flare.

“Any last requests, any last wishes?” a soft low voice asked.

Daisy sat up. The viscount was awake and watching her; she could see the lamplight reflected in his eyes.

“I’d like a beefsteak, that’s what all the lags ask for before they’re marched to the sheriff’s picture frame. And a trifle, I think, a big one, made with sherry,” she said whimsically. She was nervous, and it felt good to jest.

“I didn’t mean for your last meal,” he said appreciatively, with laughter in his voice. “But you’ll have it, if you want. Only I believe it will have to be at your wedding breakfast, because the thing must be done as soon as the sun rises. Do you really think of it as an ending?” he asked suddenly, in a soft, sober voice.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said on a gusty sigh. “I don’t know anything anymore. I was so full of plans when I set sail for England, I didn’t look to the left or right. Now I have to act, and fast. How can I say if it’s wrong or right?”

“Excellent meter,” he said. “You should think of composing poetry. Don’t worry. I know that’s easy to say, but your new husband, whatever his sins, will be nothing like your old one. That, I can assure you.”

“I know. Still, I’ve been my own boss since Tanner died, and it will be hard for me to buckle under to someone else’s rule again.”

“Your husband won’t be a ruler,” Leland said. “At least, he shouldn’t be. There’s no fun for a fair man in that. And whatever else he may be, you must admit he is a fair man. Or at least, I hope you know that.”

“I do,” she said softly.

“Good, nicely put, keep rehearsing that line. And be easy. It won’t be an ending if you look at it as a beginning. I hear that husbands have done just that sort of rationalizing since the beginning of time.”

She smiled. “All right,” she said.

“Good, now sleep,” he whispered. “We don’t want to wake the beautiful dreamers, and you make me laugh, which would certainly do it. And most important, you have to be a wide-awake bride when the dawn comes. I think any vicar would be wary if a bride stumbled into his church all bleary-eyed and yawning. Drugs, not love, would be suspected. After all, look at the pair accompanying you, the earl and myself. One fellow who keeps saying he looks old enough to be your father, and the other, a beanpole of a figure, not like any Romeo outside of satirical broadsheets. And with your companion looking so nervous? No, special license or not, with such a weird wedding party in tow, and the bride half asleep on her feet, an honorable vicar would never marry you.”

She smiled again, and yawned, because he’d mentioned it. Then she closed her eyes. And so she slept until the long journey was over.

Leland stayed awake, watching her, and thinking hard.


Daisy opened her eyes to a soft, rosy dawn. And to the sight of Leland’s dark blue gaze fixed on her.

“We’re almost there,” he said. “Ready or not.”

“I’m ready,” Daisy said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “I just need to wash up first.”

“Of course the child must have time to change,” the earl said. “We’ll go to the inn in town first, and then to the chapel. That way, Daisy, you’ll enter your new home the mistress of it.”

“I shouldn’t worry about that,” Leland remarked lazily. “No doubt the servants will use the time to whip themselves into a frenzy making sure the house is in perfect order.”

“Very well,” she said, taking a deep breath, almost as nervous about taking on the duties of a mistress of a huge estate as she was about taking on a husband. “I just need a few minutes. I’d like to change my gown. You’re supposed to be married in your best, and I’ve brought mine with me.”


That was why the groom caught his breath that morning, when his bride finally came to meet him at the church.

Daisy smiled. Much that had been done was out of her control. How she looked at her wedding was the one thing she’d planned, since the day she’d realized she had to be married.

She’d had her hair done up high, so the weight of it could be caught in long curls that fell to her shoulders, and left her neck exposed. That wasn’t all that was exposed. She wore her best gown, her fabulous gold gown, the one she’d wanted to save for a ball.

“Are you sure you want to wear this today?” Helena had asked as Daisy’s maid helped drop it over her mistress’s head. But when the gown fell into place, Helena sighed. “Of course,” she said.

The gown had been fit to her body by a master’s hand, but Daisy’s lush body needed no artificial enhancement. The gown didn’t flatter her so much as display her. Her high breasts, slender waist, lithe hips, and pert derriere did the rest. Most brides wore their best on their wedding day, but few wore a gown made by an expert modiste for wearing at a grand ball, and yet it was perfect for Daisy today, and she knew it. She wasn’t a blushing bride or a frightened virgin. She was a woman grown doing what she believed was best for her, and she wanted her groom to know she could have done even better, if she’d chosen to.