“What happened to ye?”
She felt Carlisle tense beside her, but she put a hand on his arm. “It’s a birthmark, Mr. Burns. I was born like this.”
“Too bad. Ye might hae been a bonny lass.”
Katie felt her face grow hot, a reaction, she knew, that only made her birthmark appear darker. Carlisle stepped in front of her. “She’s a bonny lass in my eyes and soon to be the Duchess of Carlisle. I daresay she doesn’t need your pity.”
Burns tipped his hat to Carlisle and stepped aside.
There was a loud commotion outside, and Katie heard her father’s voice.
“If we could proceed, sir?” the duke said to the blacksmith, his tone level. The blacksmith motioned for them to stand over the anvil in the center of the shop. Carlisle took Katie’s hand, and she was grateful as she was shaking now, partly from embarrassment at Burns’s remark about her face and partly outof fear her father would discover them at any moment. What would she say to him?
The blacksmith was speaking, and Katie was trying to listen over the ringing in her ears. Carlisle held her hand tightly and whispered, “Look at me.”
She looked into his blue eyes and found them calm and clear. His hand was warm as it enveloped hers, and when he repeated after the blacksmith, his voice was measured and even. He spoke in a tone she didn’t think she’d heard before from him. It was the tone of authority, command. The tone a duke would use.
Suddenly, Katie knew everything would work out. Her nerves mostly drained away, and she was able to take a calming breath. Carlisle squeezed her hand, and she repeated after the blacksmith. Then he brought his hammer down on the anvil and Carlisle pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He smiled down at her and whispered, “Hello, Your Grace.”
She jumped at the pounding on the door. “Carlisle, I know you’re in there!” came the sound of her father’s voice.
She half expected Carlisle to pull her out the back door. Instead, he faced the door where the pounding emanated. “Ah. Our first well-wishers have arrived. Sir?” He gestured to the blacksmith, who went to the door and unbarred it.
“Ye sure aboot this?”
“No avoiding it, sir. Do your worst.”
The blacksmith nodded and heaved the bar up, then pulled the door open. Katie stared into her father’s angry face. It was a shade of deep purple, and a vein throbbed on his forehead. She forced herself not to cower or back away but to stand at the anvil with her hands clasped serenely before her.
The marquess swept into the shop, making it seem suddenly smaller. He wore a greatcoat that swirled about him, and he looked down his long, straight nose at her, then Carlisle. Katie was impressed he managed that, as Carlisle was of a height withher father. His blond hair was perfectly styled under his hat, which he did not remove. But there were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked older than she remembered.
“My lord.” Carlisle gave an exaggerated bow. “What brings you here?”
“You know very well, Carlisle. How dare you run off with my daughter to spite me?” Her father raised his icy blue eyes to the blacksmith. “Is the deed done?”
“They are legally wed, my lord,” the blacksmith said.
Shrewsbury pointed to one of his outriders. “Fetch that license and tear it up.”
“Nay!” The blacksmith’s wife snatched the license off the table. “There were two witnesses to the ceremony. Even if ye tear this up, the marriage is still legal.”
The marquess’s gaze landed on Katie, and his lip lifted in a snarl. “Little fool. You’ve given him the perfect opportunity for revenge.”
“Now, listen here—” Carlisle began, but Katie pushed past him to stand before her father. She hadn’t expected to confront him. She’d never done so before. Perhaps in the past she hadn’t had anything worth fighting for.
She looked up at him, hands on her hips. “I know you won’t believe this, Papa, but our wedding has nothing to do with you. I love the duke. I believe he also cares for me. Our wedding is not about revenge or spite. We want to be together.”
The marquess shook his head. “You were an easy target. That was my fault. I should have protected you better. This discussion is over. My men will have hired a carriage by now. Get in. We’re returning to London. I’ll see about having this farce annulled when we arrive.”
He pushed Katie aside to confront Carlisle. “And you! You and I will have a meeting at dawn with pistols.”
“I won’t agree to an annulment,” Katie said quietly.
Her father turned and stared at her. “Are you still here?”
“My husband is here. I am at his side. And an annulment won’t be as simple as you think. I’m quite ruined,” she said.
“The gossip of your flight from Carlisle House can be handled with a few coins.”
