Dawn Thompson Read Online Free PDF

but for that. She knew such places are dangerous after dark for a woman alone. She wanted to tell me that her mother had passed and she was returning to Cornwall. I hired a chaise and brought her here. I couldn’t let her go as she was, and I couldn’t go with her as I am.”
    “You haven’t told me how you think I can help,” the vicar said.
    “That should be fairly obvious,” Jon replied. “I want you to marry us. That will put paid to the nonsense of her having been compromised—not that such a thing even signifies, considering the rest of this. It’s ludicrous!”
    “What? You actually mean to go back to London for a special license?”
    “How can I now, when I have no idea how long I willbe able to go abroad in daylight, as you say? They do not issue special licenses at night, Clive.”
    “Even if I could perform the ceremony and post the banns, it would be four weeks, Jon, before you could wed. By then, the Reveres would be banging your door down at the Abbey. This, of course, is hypothetical. What you ask is impossible. Why, it would be sacrilege!”
    “The Devil take the banns, Clive! I’m asking you to join us—here, in that kirk out there, tomorrow night. Once we are wed, there is naught anyone can do. We cannot be separated—not now, not ever. It is the only way. I cannot abandon her to this . . . whatever it is. That would be unthinkable! I want to protect her, care for her, give her the life we planned. And as to sacrilege, you are guilty of that already, and have been since you gave me sanctuary on holy ground.”
    The vicar was silent apace. Jon couldn’t read his expression. It was often thus; Clive Snow always seemed to be able to read his thoughts, but it was never the other way around.
    “Do you realize what you are asking?” the vicar said at last, rising from his chair.
    “I am asking a dear friend and mentor for help,” Jon said.
    The vicar gave a stricken look, then turned away from Jon’s eyes.
    “You are asking that I take you and the girl into that kirk next door and sanctify the unholy before God. How are you in a state of grace? How long before you may not even be able to set foot on holy ground?”
    “I am asking for your help, Clive,” Jon repeated.
    “Anything. Anything but this.”
    Jon surged to his feet and began to pace the length of the carpet before the vacant hearth. He didn’t feel unholy.He hadn’t asked to be rendered thus, though he had left himself open to the evil that had possessed him. If he were guilty of anything, it would be carelessness, recklessness, gross stupidity.
    “I love you like a father, Jon,” the vicar went on, “and my heart is breaking for you, but you are asking me to seek God’s blessing upon evil. To attempt to sanctify such a union upon holy ground would damn us all.”
    “What am I to do, then? I love her, Clive. I planned to press my suit. I’ll be damned indeed if I make a whore of her. That’s what you’re condemning her to—a life of living in sin.”
    “The blacksmiths at Gretna Green are bound by no such strictures as those to which I must adhere,” the vicar said. “Anvil weddings are performed there night and day, no questions asked. All you need do is declare your wish to join before a witness for it to be legal and binding. It’s just over the border, Jon. If you were to leave at sunset, you could have it done and return well before dawn—now, while you can still bear the light of day, should you be caught behindhand.”
    “I know how far it is to Gretna Green. It is possible, yes, but only barring the slightest setback. Uncooperative weather, a broken wheel, an encounter with a highwayman—all are more probable than possible, mind. And I am a dead man should my current situation change, Clive. Have you forgotten? We do not know how long I will be able to bear the light of day.”
    “No, I haven’t forgotten, which brings up another thing: You must make a secure place for yourself at the Abbey—a dark