Her Counterfeit Husband by Ruth Ann Nordin

Author:Ruth Ann Nordin [Nordin, Ruth Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Ruth Ann Nordin's Books
Published: 2012-09-03T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

When the inn at Gretna Green came into view, Jason turned from the carriage window and saw Anna peering out her window. “It’s too late to change your mind,” he told her in a playful tone. “We came all the way to Scotland.” He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “You have to marry me now.”

With an amused smile, she said, “I don’t recall suggesting we turn around and go back home.”

“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t consider that an option.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.”

“Good.” He pressed his lips to her cheek. “I promise I’ll be good to you.”

“I know you’ll be,” she whispered and squeezed his hand.

The carriage came to a stop at the inn, and they went in to secure their room. Though his stomach growled and it was the dinner hour, he didn’t feel like waiting to get married.

He turned to Anna as she laid her belongings on the small vanity in their room. “I’ll see what I can do about getting a priest.”

She placed her brush by the mirror and glanced at him. “You don’t want to eat first?”

“The priest might be busy. I want to make sure we get married tonight.”

“Once you set your mind to something, there’s no stopping you.”

“With a lady like you, can you blame me for being impatient?”

Though she sighed, a smile hinted at her lips. “You’re far too charming for my own good.”

Secretly pleased, he said, “I’ll be back as soon as I secure an appointment.”

“I imagine you won’t rest until you do.”

“Of course not.” He went over to her and kissed her. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a very long time.”

Before she could comment, he hurried out of the room. After he went to the innkeeper and found out where one of the priests lived, he left the inn. On his way down a path, someone called out the name Alastair. He didn’t think anything of it until the person got more insistent. Wondering who was calling out the name, he stopped and turned to the person. To his surprise, the gentleman was heading straight for him.

Jason waited for him to catch up to him. “Is there something I can help you with, sir?”

“Sir?” The gentleman laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “You and I were friends since we were children, and you address me so formally?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He laughed again. “Oh, Alastair, you always did have a sense of humor. Good thing, too, considering the lot you were given in this life. But never mind all that. You look good. I take it they were gracious enough to let you go. Or did you escape?”

Jason didn’t know what to make of the gentleman’s strange ramblings, but he knew they were meant for someone else. “I’m not Alastair. I’m Jason Merrill, the Duke of Watkins.”

The gentleman stopped laughing and studied him. “But the resemblance…” He motioned to his face and then the rest of him. “You don’t recognize me? I’m Don.

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