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married by proxy. Your signature is on the certificate,” she said as she began skirting the table.
    “Impossible. I would remember signing a marriage certificate.” She raised a disbelieving brow and stared pointedly at his elixirs.
    Rather than lunge at her as she’d expected, he slumped back. “Get out,” he said in a chilling tone that sent her fleeing.

Chapter Three

    Her hands coated in dirt, Jessie swiped the tears away with her sleeve. She sniffled as she ripped out another stubborn weed invading her lilac patch.
    A bee flew from the blooms and zigzagged past her nose. She felt it alight in her hair. She shook her head to rid herself of it. That’s when she became aware of him.
    Lord Blackwood sat on one of the marble benches shaded by the ancient elm tree. His long legs were thrust out in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest. He had been watching her. And, as if mesmerized, she stared right back at him.
    The entrance of this new, dangerous element into her life had jarred her. She was no longer feeling apathetic and wished to act, to shed these hateful bonds. She prayed he would spare her a prison sentence, because being pursued by the law made any future plans frightening to contemplate. But judging from what she’d witnessed so far, there was little chance. It was doubtful that mercy tempered his ruthless heart.
    Jessie tried to concentrate on the flowerbed again. In her nervousness, she pulled at a perfect daffodil, leaving behind the stringy weed. “Blast it,” she muttered and got to her feet. With a brusque movement, she brushed the dirt from her hands. It was impossible to even think with that man so near. She decided to take a ride on Titus before she ended up destroying her entire garden.
    She took a surreptitious peek at the lounging lord. He was now lying atop the stone seat, his booted feet propped on the second bench. A slight breeze ruffled the leaves of the elm, shaking loose rainwater from yesterday’s storm. The water drizzled down on him and he didn’t stir. A momentary reprieve, she thought, and headed toward the stalls.
    Titus greeted her with a friendly nuzzle. He was the only agreeable male on the entire estate. She threw on his bridle and led him out to the sunny field adjacent to the barn. Spring rains had covered the pasture with clover. She gave Titus a few minutes to devour a patch of it before lifting up her dress and springing onto his back. She had a momentary thought to ride off on him and escape her fate.

    As they galloped the length of the lawn and back, her hair burst loose from its chignon and fell in soft waves to her waist. In the field, she cantered the huge gelding around in circles. Finally, unable to resist, she glanced in the direction of Lord Blackwood and noticed that he’d shifted positions. He straddled the bench, his forearms resting on his thighs. He’d napped briefly, and now he was watching her again. The ride had helped calm her nerves. She decided she should go and talk to this man, her husband, to find out what he intended to do with her.
    Perhaps, if she set him off balance as she had earlier when he’d coarsely pointed out his erection, she could use it to her advantage. Surely, he’d intended to shock her, but she’d seen it as a tiny conquest. Flirting, she decided, might prove useful. But first she would try reasoning with him.

    

    Ryder watched the little trickster striding purposefully toward him as though intent on speaking her mind. Obviously, he’d ruined her plans. And she’d ruined his. Ryder had sought oblivion for the day. It had taken an hour to clear his mind of the haze and absorb the impact of her announcement. He’d been royally duped. And now she was going to be royally fucked. He wondered if she was prepared to suffer the consequences for her conniving.
    She and his uncle certainly hadn’t anticipated that he would survive Newgate. Once he’d had his fill of her wifely attentions, Ryder would see all three