Free The Highwayman's Bride by Jane Beckenham Page A

man.”
    His friend was right. Too many nights trawling the dank and darkened roads from London to the coast had brought him to the depths of despair and exhaustion. But he had to keep going. He had no choice. The memory of his sister’s face distorted by silent tears haunted Aiden’s nights.
    “Are you sure you want to continue? No one would judge you if you simply left Nash for others to deal with.”
    Aiden blinked, drawing back from the guilt-charged memories, and lifted his gaze to focus on his friend. He witnessed Beswick’s concern and was grateful for it. But even his best friend didn’t understand the intensity of the self-reproach riding roughshod through him.
    “No,” he said pushing back the exhaustion that threatened both physically and mentally. “I will not walk away from the bastard until he’s strung up from the rafters.”
    “Mary was a sweet young girl when I saw her last, before we shipped out to Spain.”
    The muscle in Aiden’s cheek twitched and he cast a glance at his friend and confidant. “’Tis a time that seems so long ago. When life was simple.”
    “So much has happened since.”
    Despair. Betrayal. The silent words grated across Aiden’s brain. Pain-filled words. Fury-filled.
    “Nash is a dangerous fellow and murder is second nature to him. The law isn’t on your sister’s side. No one is interested in a battered woman. Once they’re married their property is the husband’s. Mary cannot complain.” His friend voiced the same concerns Aiden had battled for months.
    “At least she’s left the bastard, though how I wish I’d been here to stop her in the first place.”
    “You had a duty to your country.”
    Aiden snorted his disgust and emptied his glass. “First and foremost is my duty to my family, surely. Mary is my sister and it was my duty to protect her and I wasn’t there to help her when she needed it. Nash wed her in secret, then abused her and left her a broken woman.” God, how he’d make that bastard pay for what he’d done.
    Last night was another failed attempt at catching Nash in the midst of his illegal dealings and Aiden felt as if he’d run out of ideas. Worse, he wasn’t certain about Tess. She protested about Luther Gibbs, but the blustering fool was in league with Nash. Was she, too?
    A waiter hovered nearby once more. “I think another drink is in order,” he stated more to himself. He nodded toward Beswick. “You?”
    “Don’t mind if I do.”
    With silent efficiency the waiter refilled Aiden’s glass and brought a drink for his friend. As he went to leave, Aiden said, “Leave the bottle. I may need it.”
    Beswick eyed him, blue eyes piercing. “That’s not like you.”
    Aiden tossed back the entire contents of his glass, then quickly poured a third. “I may need it, for it seems I’m about to get married.”
    “Married!” Beswick shot forward on his seat. “You? You’re a confirmed bachelor.”
    “Not always.”
    “Well, yes, we all make mistakes,” his friend said of Aiden’s foray into the marriage den. “So who is she, and why?”
    Aiden narrowed his gaze on his friend. “Could it not be love?”
    His friend’s mouth quirked. “Doubtful. So, tell me, what is this marriage all about?”
    “I’m helping someone.”
    “Getting married to help a woman. That’s a novel concept. Who is she? ”
    “Miss Tess Stanhope.”
    “The young woman at Bancroft’s last eve.”
    “You saw her?”
    “How could I not? She was the most glorious young woman there.”
    Aiden couldn’t disagree. Seeing Tess again had fired something inside his chest, something he hadn’t been expecting. In her dress of satin threaded with gold, she had taken his breath away. Aphrodite in person.
    “How long have you known her?”
    “An eve at most, though we did cross paths a few weeks ago.” Crossed at gunpoint. She had saved his life, so perhaps the least he could do was save her from hers.
    “And you intend to marry her on such a flimsy