Winter's Kiss (Howertys #3)

Chapter 32: Unexpected Arrivals

Five days. Nick paced the space of her bedroom for the nine-hundredth time that day. Five days Fontaine had kept them locked in their bedrooms. Alone. She was about ready to climb the walls by now. There had been nothing for her to do other than imagine the worst possible scenarios of what was happening in the rest of the house. To her servants. To Henry. To Gabriel. She'd heard some commotion earlier but had been unable to determine what the cause was.

In an attempt to appear reasonable, Fontaine had sent one of his men in with a stack of books to keep her busy. They had provided something of a distraction, at least. She'd built a small structure with them. Then she'd stomped through it like a dragon on a rampage. It had also been amusing for a few minutes to stand them up and use her brush as a projectile, trying to knock them over. She wondered if the others had been given books, too. They might have had a few more hours of entertainment from them, while she'd grown bored rather quickly.

The sound of the door unlocking stopped her in her tracks. Was it supper time already? Judging from the fading light outside, it might be. But rather than a tray of food being shoved into the room, the barrel-chested man from the first day came inside.

"Come," he grunted, motioning for her to join him. Normally, she'd baulk at anyone giving her orders, but she was so tired of being cooped up in that one room that she might have gone with just about anyone. And perhaps they would allow her to see Gabriel or Henry.

The man brought her to the small drawing room they had been in the other day, and relief flooded her as she saw Gabriel and Henry standing inside. Without thinking, she rushed past her jailer and into Gabriel's surprised embrace. He held her close for a moment before grasping her shoulders and holding her out in front of him.

"Are you all right?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Bored, but fine."

"I thought of you when they brought me some books," he admitted with a lopsided smile. "You must have been bored out of your mind."

"I found uses for them." She grinned mischievously.

Remembering that they weren't alone, she looked around the room. Her eyes widened as she saw Winterbourne sitting on a couch, a man on either side of him with guns in their hands. He nodded towards her as he noticed her regard. She looked back up at Gabriel.

"Did he get the license?"

"He did," Fontaine confirmed as he entered the room and crossed the floor to stand in front of her. "You will be wed tomorrow in the local church."

Nausea washed over her at the thought. Marry? Tomorrow? She wasn't ready!

The feeling persisted into the next day, as she stood before the minister with Gabriel by her side. Winterbourne and Henry sat in the front row, with Fontaine and his men behind them, their guns hidden so the minister wouldn't realise what was happening. If the priest thought the bride and groom looked unusually anxious, he must have put it down to nerves.

Dressed in a badly fitting white dress that was at least a size too big, Nick couldn't help but think about how this was nothing like how she had imagined her wedding day. She had never spent much thought on it, but she knew for a fact she would have liked to have her family present. And probably have a groom that didn't look like he would have bolted, had he been able to.

She fingered the wilting bouquet of roses picked from her garden. Whoever had chosen the flowers had taken no heed to choose the best ones. Half of them had browning petals already. If they weren't in peril, it would have been laughable. She could think of few weddings worse than this one. Looking up at Gabriel through her eyelashes, she noted the tense shoulders and the thin line of his mouth. How he must hate her.