Scandalous Weddings

"Help!" A

"Do not move," Pierce countermanded the staff, jerking on her. The servants remained frozen like statues. A

Pierce himself could hardly believe what was happening. He propelled the now-silent A

"Braxton!" Boothe cried from behind him in shock and disbelief.

Pierce halted, facing A

Boothe was incredulous, but anger quickly overcame him. "You son of a bitch! Release my daughter!" he shouted from the entrance to the ballroom.

A young man had come up beside him, as blond and blue-eyed as A

"As long as nobody moves, she will be returned to you no worse for wear," he said, briefly pointing the revolver at the crowd. Collectively they gasped.

Pierce replaced the muzzle of the pistol to A

"You will regret this," she cried, but now she was ru

"I am sure that I will," he said. But he was not thinking about the bride. He had never signaled Louie from the second floor as had been the plan, but the backup plan had called for Louie to have the Packard waiting for a getaway in thirty minutes should Pierce fail to signal. He was certain that thirty-five minutes or so had elapsed, but the Packard was nowhere to be seen. Had Pierce had the luxury, he would have been in a state of severe disbelief. Louie had never let him down before.

"Damn it, Louie!" he said, hurrying with A

"Who is Louie?" she gasped, tripping now over her skirts as he increased their pace.

Pierce had no intention of answering her, because the father of the bride, the groom, and at least a hundred guests were crowding the front door of the mansion, watching him as he fled with A

And Louie saw him. The Packard had been idling, now it came to life, rolling. forward. Pierce ran to it, A

She was rising. Grass, dirt, and gravel now stained her wedding dress, and her blue eyes were wide. She faced him, and their gazes locked. The tiara she wore, which held her veil in place, was slipping.

Pierce was sorry that he had ruined her wedding. But since she was so reluctant to wed, maybe he had done her a favor. He couldn't help feeling an odd regret. There was nothing unfortunate about A

And the Packard jerked, backfired, and stalled.

"Damn it." Pierce turned to Louie, incredulous.

Louie was leaping out, to crank up the engine again.

Pierce jumped into the driver's seat and shifted. Half a dozen gentlemen were ru

The engine roared to life.

"Get in!" Pierce shouted at Louie.

Louie was already racing for the passenger door, but A

They separated, Louie tripping on A

This was unbelievable.

The Packard sped wildly around the circular drive. A horse reared, backing up in terror, pushing its coach into another carriage.

Gripping the steering wheel with two hands, his gaze glued on the straightaway and Fifth Avenue, beyond that, Pierce saw, from the corner of his eye, Louie righting himself in the same seat as the bride. And then they were shooting through the wide-open front gates. Tires screeched as he turned the Packard so hard to the left that two wheels briefly lost contact with the ground.

A

But Louie did, absolute amazement on his face, along with an obvious question.

He was driving very fast, passing carriages, wagons, a hansom, and a cyclist. The Holland House, one of the city's most fashionable hotels, was on their right. A liveried doorman was standing in the street to wave down a cab, and a pair of gentlemen were attempting to cross on the same corner of Thirtieth Street. A dray was also trying to cross Fifth Avenue. Driving was taking almost all of his concentration. Casting one brief glance of steel at the very flushed bride, he said, "Throw her out."

"Aye, aye, guvnor," Louie replied.

Chapter Two

A

But a small smile formed on her lips.

And then he commanded Louie to throw her out of the motorcar.

His harsh words made her whip her head around to stare at him in a combination of amazement and dismay. Had she misheard?

"Throw her out," he said again, as firmly.

The expression on her father's face-and her fiance's- as they stared at her in the foyer while the thief dragged her out of the house seared itself upon her mind. She recalled the sight of the several hundred shocked and gaping guests. Her pulse raced with alarming speed. Her fingers dug more deeply into the leather seat. She was not going anywhere.

She had made her choice. She could not marry Harold Talbot. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. This was, must be, fate.

Louie's hands closed upon her shoulders.

A

A

"No!" A

Louie's head slapped backward, his eyes rolling shut, his body going limp.

"Jesus!" the thief cried.

Even A