Free No Other Man by Shannon Drake Page A

trick anyone. She hadn't married Lord Douglas for gain.
    Apparently, she hadn't married the man she'd met at all.
She'd married his son.
    The trick had been on her.
    She buried her face in her hands, trembling, then stared up
at the ceiling, as if she could see God.
    "Why?" she whispered, glad that the green-eyed
savage wasn't around to hear the whimpering sound of her voice. She didn't
deserve this.
    She
'd married to escape.
    What in God's name was she going to do now? What kind of
cruel hoax had they all played upon one another? Just when she had thought that
life had finally given her a way . ..
    She shouldn't have done it.
    She had never meant any harm. Pike's place had always been
her escape. It was a small inn, but it had been in business since Revolutionary
times, established by Pike's great-grandfather. The present Pike had been her
father's very good friend. A number of Baltimore matrons and their daughters
came to Pike's for an occasional luncheon, and since it was considered such a
respectable establishment, she's had little trouble claiming to her mother that
she went to Pike's to meet friends. Lord Douglas had been a visitor over the
years—it was quite the fashionable place for wealthy out-of-towners to frequent
as well. Pike had pointed him out to her before as an eccentric Englishman
living on the frontier who came east on occasion to see to his banking
concerns. She had spoken with him politely in the past. But this time she had
been there when he had so nearly collapsed. She had been the one to catch him,
to insist on calling the doctor. And she would never forget the way that he had
told her after he'd seen the doctor that there was little that could be done
for him. But it was then- secret, please.
    He'd been so gentle, kind, dignified, fascinating. She'd
realized she was the only one in the world who was aware of how ill he had
become. She'd begun to open up to him in turn, telling him things she had never
told anyone before. In a matter of days, she'd felt as if he'd been her best
friend all of her life. He'd understood the gravity of her situation, the
trickiness of it, and had suggested that she come with him. But she couldn't
just leave; she didn't dare.
    Then had come the night when she hadn't dared go home.
    And he had offered her a way out. She had needed the help so
badly ...
    Skylar leaped to her feet and began pacing the floor.
    An annulment. She had to get an annulment. If she really was
wed to this hateful creature.
    She would just go back. Go back east.
    Was she insane? She couldn't go back!
    That thought racked her over and over again. No, she couldn't
go back. And she hadn't married for gain, but she did need money. Desperately.
    The fire was dying in the hearth. The cabin was darkening.
It was probably very late. She was alone in the wilderness with nothing but a
wretched, bloodthirsty dog nearby. She hoped. There could be worse creatures of
the night beyond the door. . ..
    She couldn't be afraid, she told herself. Thankfully, she was
too exhausted to feel much of anything.
    She sat on the bed, then stretched out upon it. The iliought
remained with her, growing duller and duller. She couldn't go back.
    So
what did she do now?
    She laid her head on the pillow.
    What if he didn't come
back? Who would die first, her or the wolf-dog?
    She felt like laughing again. She was so tired. She closed
her eyes and felt herself dozing. It felt good. So good. Her body eased down
more comfortably into the mattress. And her sleep deepened.
    Gold Town, a small mining settlement that
had grown up quickly in the last few years since gold had been discovered in
the Black Hills, was rustic—and prosperous. Henry Pierpont did a decent enough
business to keep a large office on Main Street, fully furnished from the East
with handsome leather chairs and sofas and cherrywood bookcases. He had a
secretary, Jim Higgins, a young man who'd originally come for the gold, then
turned in his miner's equipment for pen and