Beauty for Ashes. Dorothy Clark

carriage lurched forward, then dipped and swayed as it crossed the courtyard and entered the rutted road. Laina jerked to one side, then held herself stiff and aloof, refusing to allow the motion to cause her body to come into contact with the judge.

      “Laina, my dear, you are going to be terribly weary by the time you reach home if you do not relax. Besides, anger does not become you. Some women may look beautiful when they are angry—though I, personally, have never met one—but you…” The judge’s infectious chuckle floated through the darkness to her. “You just turn red!”

      Laina laughed in spite of herself. “Trying to get back into my good graces with flattery, Judge?” She relaxed back against the cushioned seat and glanced toward his dark form. “Very well, I forgive you. But all the same, I am hurt by your laughter.”

      “I know, my dear. But if you will permit me to explain, you will understand.” The judge shook out a lap robe, spread it over her legs, then shook out another for himself. “Tell me, Laina, why did Justin devise this plan for a marriage of convenience?”

      “Why? You know why. Or perhaps— Oh, Judge. Surely you weren’t bamboozled by all those reasonable excuses Justin offered. Surely you knew…” She dismissed the excuses with one disparaging flick of her hand. “He was looking for a way to protect himself from further hurt and disappointment.”

      “Precisely! Your summation is correct, my dear. Justin needed a mother for those two children—but his main motive is to be safe from emotional entanglement. And, my dear Laina, your brother has never been farther removed from safety!”

      Laina stiffened, and stared toward the judge. He was actually chortling with glee! “Have you taken leave of your senses?”

      “No.” The judge choked back his laughter. “It’s only that I’ve been holding that back since the ceremony. Oh, Laina! That young lady—and I do mean lady, for there is breeding in every inch of her—is lovely. Absolutely lovely.”

      “No!”

      “Yes.” The judge wiped at his watering eyes. “Didn’t you think it strange there was so little light in the room for the ceremony? I snuffed all but one candle! I was afraid if Justin had a good look at her he would refuse to marry her and try again with someone less appealing. The boy’s only human after all.”

      “Why you wily, old— Is that why you had Thomas spirit her from the room so quickly? I thought you simply could not bear the sight of her any longer. I know I couldn’t.”

      “No, no. Believe me, I found her lovely of face and character.”

      “Character?” Laina all but snorted. “I expected better of you, Judge.” She threw a cool look his direction. “You are far too experienced to have your head turned by a pretty face. A woman of character does not blatantly sell herself.”

      “She refused the money.”

      “Refused it?” Laina gaped through the darkness at the judge’s dark form. “She refused the settlement?”

      “Indeed she did. And with such dignity and grace I felt the worst sort of bounder for having offered it!”

      Laina burst into laughter.

      “You find that amusing?”

      “Amusing? No, not really.” Laina yanked her hand out of her muff and grabbed for the hold strap as the carriage bounced over a deep rut in the road. “It’s only that, for all your age and experience, you are still a man.”

      “And what does that mean?”

      He sounded a little huffy. She smiled. The judge did not take kindly to truth he perceived as criticism. “It means you are sweet…and protective…and, sometimes, manipulated by cunning women with pretty faces.” She put a teasing note in her voice. “I should know.”

      “That is different!”

      Now he sounded defensive. “It may be.” Laina made her tone placating.

      The judge crossed his arms and leaned back against the seat. “She refused the money.”

      He obviously thought that was a strong point in the woman’s favor. Laina sighed and leaned down to tuck the lap robe more closely about her boots. “That was quite clever of her. What better way to get into Justin’s good graces? Any fool would know the generous settlement he offered is but a small portion of his wealth. And if she can make him trust her…” Laina straightened up and tucked her hands back into her muff. “Well—we both know what can happen.” There was bitterness, fear and undeniable logic in her words.

      The judge sighed heavily. “We must pray, Laina. We must continue to pray for Justin.”

      She shot a look his direction, then turned and stared straight ahead. “You pray if you wish, Judge, but I will not.” Her voice was sharp with hurt and anger. “I prayed that God would keep Justin from ruining his life by marrying another low, greedy, scheming female and look what has happened. He’s married to that—that strumpet!” She withdrew her hand from the muff and wiped sudden tears from her eyes. “God does not answer prayer. And I won’t waste my time again!”

      Chapter Four

      T he cabriolet swept smartly into the courtyard of the Wetherstone Inn and rolled to a halt opposite the entrance. At last! Justin stretched the travel stiffness from his body, tossed his lap robe aside, and glanced at his bride—she was still sleeping. “Madam, wake up—we have arrived at our destination.” The carriage swayed as the driver climbed from his seat. The horses snorted. “Madam?” There was no response.

      Justin grasped his wife’s shoulder and shook her lightly. Her head, hidden by the fur-lined hood, lolled forward onto her chest. A scowl creased his forehead. No one slept that soundly. The woman must be ill. Footsteps signaled the driver’s approach. A blast of cold air hit him as the door was opened.

      Justin scooped his new wife’s limp body into his arms, climbed from the carriage and hurried toward the inn. With one booted foot he gave the door a solid, satisfying kick.

      “Breams? Josiah Breams! Open the door!”

      There was a protesting squeak of cold hinges. The door opened.

      “Good evening, sir. We’ve been expecting you and your— Good heavens, sir!” The proprietor of the inn stared down at the cloak-draped body hanging across Justin’s arms. “Has there been an accident, sir? Is your wife injured?”

      “No, there’s been no accident—she’s taken ill.” Justin pushed past the portly proprietor and headed for the stairs. “Have you prepared the room?”

      “Oh, yes, sir.” The little man closed the door and scurried forward, hurrying to get ahead of Justin’s long-legged strides. “It’s all exactly as you asked.” He puffed his way up the long flight of stairs, using the banister to pull himself upward. “I’m sure you’ll be pleased. I laid the fire and—”

      “Save your air. You’ll have an apoplectic fit.” Justin followed the puffing, panting little man down the hall to a small, corner room.

      “Yes, sir.” The corpulent proprietor gasped out the words and opened the bedroom door. Justin brushed past the little man’s protruding paunch and headed for the bed.

      “There!” He deposited Elizabeth on the quilt-covered mattress and turned toward the proprietor who was busily poking up the fire. “I’ll do that. You go get your wife to—What is it?” His eyes narrowed as he peered down at Josiah’s face. “What’s wrong?”

      “My wife’s not here.”

      “Not here? Then who is going to tend my wife?”

      “Perhaps I might be of some assistance.”

      Justin pivoted. A tall, thin man with dark, penetrating eyes and brown hair stood in the open doorway. There was a black leather bag in his hand. “And who might you be?”

      “Thaddeous