Seducing The Bride (Brides of Mayfair 1) by Michelle McMaster Page A

swallowed, trying to calm her nerves. But relating the tale to Beckett brought everything back regarding the horrible night Mr. Langley was killed…and she had tried so hard to forget.
    She forced herself to continue, “As I said, he was a distant cousin of my father’s. After my parents’ funerals, he produced what he said was a valid will which was only recently discovered, saying my father had left the estate to him. But Mr. Langley confirmed with our lawyers that the document was a forgery. Yet this did not dissuade Sir Harry in the least. He swore he would be master of Hampton Park, and master of me as well.”
    Beckett asked, “Hampton Park is your family seat, I assume?”
    Isobel nodded, the thought of her beloved family home almost bringing tears to her eyes. “Yes, in Hertfordshire. My father was William Hampton, 4th Baron Pomeroy.”
    Beckett continued, “Which makes you, as your father’s sole heir, Baroness Pomeroy in your own right.”
    “Yes,” Isobel answered. “That’s why I ran. I had to protect the estate, and myself, from Sir Harry’s clutches.”
    “And that’s how you came to be on the street the night that I found you,” Beckett said.
    “I broke free from Sir Harry,” she explained, “then I ran and ran until I had no more strength. The next thing I remember is waking in your bed.”
    “And this Palmerston fellow,” Beckett continued. “What sort of evidence could he have against you?”
    “Whatever Sir Harry presented to him. He’s a very persuasive man,” Isobel explained. She searched Beckett’s eyes, but they gave away nothing. “Sir Harry found me at the Whitcomb ball. He took me out into the gardens—”
    Beckett set the glass down on the desk and took a step toward her. “To the garden? You went with him willingly?”
    “Certainly not! Have you heard nothing I’ve said?” she asked. “When he had me alone, he threatened me. He told me he would have no trouble convincing you that we were lovers—so that you would refuse to protect me.”
    “And how do I know you aren’t lovers?” Beckett asked, darkly.
    Isobel’s temper flared. “How dare you say such a thing?”
    “Forgive me, Isobel, but I’ve no experience in accusing a wife of being unfaithful. Is there a trick to it I don’t know?” he said flippantly.
    Before she knew what she was about, Isobel slapped him.
    All the anguish and desperation of the past weeks erupted from her heart and found its target in the man before her. She beat her fists against his chest and flailed in his arms as Beckett struggled to hold her.
    “Isobel!”
    She struggled against him. “Get your hands off me!”
    “Isobel, stop it!” Beckett shouted, quickly winning the physical battle and holding her immobile in his strong, unyielding arms.
    “Let me go,” she demanded, hotly.
    He ignored her, holding her effortlessly against him.
    “Surely you don’t want to keep a murderess as a wife?” she said.
    Beckett held her away front of him, so he could look at her. “I don’t believe you are a murderess, Isobel.”
    She stared up into his eyes, unwilling to hope. “You don’t?”
    “No.” Beckett touched his hand to the side of Isobel’s face. His thumb rubbed against the soft line of her jaw. “I am your husband, and I will protect you.”
    Isobel closed her eyes against the burning heat of tears. A strong hand curled gently around her neck as Beckett pulled her close against his chest.
    “I swore to honor and protect you all the days of my life, and all the days of yours,” he said, looking down at her with a wary expression. “You should have told me before.”
    “I was afraid,” she answered.
    “I can imagine you were,” Beckett replied, turning away from her. “This changes things, Isobel. I will have to take you away from London, certainly—someplace where you’ll be safe from both Lennox and Lord Palmerston’s arrest warrant. Until we can get these charges dropped and find some evidence against