Authors: Amelia Grey
Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Historical, #Man-Woman Relationships, #London (England), #London (England) - Social Life and Customs - 19th Century, #Historial Fiction, #Regency, #Man-Woman Relationships - England - 19th Century, #Love Stories
Daniel finished pulling on his boot and started stuffing his shirttail into his trousers. “It is true, I will be married by the time you turn twenty-one.”
A jagged pain splintered inside her.
Twenty-two
A lump swelled in Isabella’s throat at Daniel’s pronouncement, but she didn’t look up at him. She couldn’t. She had known he was looking to marry from the first day they met. How could she have known then that the news he’d delivered would devastate her.
Isabella concentrated on the buttons on her pelisse as she calmly asked, “Who did you decide to marry? Lady Katherine?”
“No.”
“Alice Eldridge?” she asked, realizing her fingers were so trembly by his news that she couldn’t get her pelisse fastened.
“Oh, no, not her,” he said as he grabbed his neckcloth and collar from the floor.
Isabella looked up at him. “Miss Joanne Langley? Really, Daniel, I don’t think she would be the best choice for you.”
A questioning expression eased across his face. “Is that so? Why?” he asked as he fitted his collar and neckcloth around his neck.
“Well, she doesn’t smile very often and her laugh is rather shrill.”
“Oh, you noticed that?”
“Of course and I think you would get tired of that as the years go by. And she is rather short, and I do believe her shoulders slump a bit.”
“Without doubt.”
“So maybe you should consider someone else.”
She looked up at him. He continued to tie his neckcloth. She loved him so much, but she had to remain strong and not let him know.
She wanted to smile at him, but found that she was just too sad. Her heart ached because she knew how desperately she was going to miss him.
“Perhaps it’s best you don’t tell me who you will marry.”
“Would you rather read about it in the Society column?”
Prolonging it would be a good idea. She might break down in front of him and beg him not to marry anyone. “Yes. Yes, that would be better. Do not tell me. Most likely I will be in the country by the time you marry, and there will be no need for me to know.”
He finished tying his neckcloth into a bow and walked over to her. He pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was warm, comforting, yet she felt hollow inside. She would miss him greatly.
Isabella took a deep breath. “Do I look presentable? Does anything appear out of place?”
“You look beautiful. There’s only one thing left to do before you leave.”
“And what is that?”
“You must pay the price for what just happened between us.”
The lump in her throat grew bigger. She felt as if she would choke, but somewhere inside herself she found the courage to say, “I promised. Whatever you wish me to do, I accept that. What is it?”
Suddenly she closed her eyes and squeezed them tightly, as if that could make his punishment bearable.
“Open your eyes, Isabella.”
“No, I can’t. Just tell me what I must do.”
“All right. You must marry me.”
She heard his husky, whispered voice, but she couldn’t have heard him correctly. She opened first one eye and then the other. He was standing so close to her, smiling so sweetly at her.
She moistened her lips. “I think you are going to have to say that again. I didn’t understand what you said.”
He bent his head close to hers. “You heard me correctly. You cannot deny me. You must marry me as soon as I can make the arrangements.”
Isabella’s heart leaped for joy. He wanted her to marry him? But did he feel she had trapped him? No, she couldn’t do that to him. That’s not what she planned.
She smiled and lovingly touched his cheek with her palm. “Daniel, I’m not going to do that to you. I couldn’t. I know what I asked of you was selfish, but I have no desire to leg-shackle you. I only wanted to have the memory of being with you when I go to the country with my father. Do not worry. No one will ever know what happened between us.”
“The only reason I agreed to touch you this afternoon is because I knew I was going to marry you.” He pulled her into his arms. “Isabella, I love you and I want you to be my wife.”
For the second time that afternoon he had left her breathless. “You love me? Daniel, do you love me?”
“As insane as it sounds, yes!”
Isabella laughed and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the passion she was feeling. His kiss was demanding yet cherishing, and she loved it. She felt as if her heart was going to beat out of her chest, she was so happy.
“I’m thrilled, Daniel. I love you so much. I knew you desired me, but I can’t believe you love me, too.”
“I do. How could I not fall in love with such a tempting mischief-maker?”
Daniel started to kiss her again, but Isabella stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Daniel, there’s something you should know. I don’t think I could ever be a conventional wife.”
“Thank God. If they are all like the ladies I’ve been calling on, I don’t think I could live with one.”
Isabella laughed and Daniel joined her as they hugged. “Daniel, I’m so glad you fell in love with me.”
“So I am. You make me happy, Isabella. I enjoy being with you. You are a challenge and unpredictable, and I know I don’t want to live without you.”
She smiled up at him. “That’s exactly the way I feel about you, and yes, yes, yes, I will marry you.”
He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “It’s about time you said yes.”
“I didn’t want to appear too eager.”
“There’s one other matter we need to clear up.”
“What is that?”
“Did you really let Sir William Smith kiss you?”
She smiled at him. “Of course not. Daniel, you are the only man who has ever kissed my lips.”
“And I intend to keep it that way. I’ll speak to your aunt and tell her we want to be ready to marry as soon as your father arrives. If he gets here by the end of the month, he can attend the wedding. If not, he’ll have to bless us after we’ve wed. I refuse to wait more than two weeks to have you as my bride and in my bed.”
Isabella reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Two weeks. That is such a long time. I will have to slip over here and see you before then.”
Daniel smiled. “Isabella, don’t start that. We will wait until we are married.”
Her hand slipped to the buttons on his trousers.
He chuckled and hugged her up close. “Maybe not.” He set her away from him. “Now, you will ride home with your maid, and I’ll follow in my carriage. I want to speak to your aunt about us immediately. This is unbelievable. I’ve settled Gretchen’s future and mine in the same day.”
“But how did you settle Gretchen’s future? You can’t possibly still consider Mr. Wright a suitable match for your sister.”
“No. Someone infinitely better has come along and asked for Gretchen’s hand.”
“Oh, how wonderful! Who?”
“Chilton.”
Isabella gasped with delight. “Your best friend. Daniel, that’s wonderful for you and for Gretchen. I feel sure they will be happy together.”
Daniel smiled. “Me, too. They know each other well, and I couldn’t have been more surprised when he told me his intentions. I know Gretchen will agree. I think she’s always loved him.”
“This will give such hope to all the ladies in my Reading Society.”
“I’m glad you have them over. I hope you’ll continue after we’re married.”
“Of course I will.” Her heart felt as if it was bursting with love. “Thank you, Daniel, for knowing that I want to continue my work with them.”
He smiled and kissed her again. “Chilton will be in my family and you will be my wife. There’s nothing more I could want.”
“And all I want is you.”
“Come here, my tempting Isabella.” He pulled her to him and kissed her softly, tenderly and lovingly.
Isabella thrilled to his touch.
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed Isabella and Daniel’s story. This was one of my favorite books to write. I had such fun with all the quirky ladies in the Wallflower Society. It took some careful planning to make sure the missing dead body didn’t take away from the lightheartedness of the story. But most of all, as always, I loved developing the romance in the Regency time period with all its strict Society rules. It’s a challenge for me to see just how many rules I can let my hero and heroine get away with breaking before they find their happily-ever-after.
Please visit my website at
www.ameliagrey.com
to see a complete list of all my books. Many are still available from your favorite local or online bookstore.
I love to hear from my readers. Please contact me at [email protected].
Happy Reading,
Amelia Grey
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One
Anger can be an expensive luxury.
—Italian Proverb
Iverson Brentwood was out for blood.
It hadn’t taken him long to locate the address of the person he was looking for. His body tense, he lifted the collar of his greatcoat and stepped down from the comfort of his dry, warm carriage and into the chilling spring rain. Settling his hat lower on his forehead, with keen purpose, his boots splashing the puddles, he walked toward the front door of the elegant house in Mayfair. Banks of cold fog drifted in from the Thames and swirled in the dreary late afternoon air. The one bright spot was a lone light that shone from a front-room window of the place he sought.
Droplets of water fell from the brim of his hat as he stepped under the overhang of the stoop. Unclenching his tight fist, Iverson lifted the heavy door knocker and rapped it quickly a couple of times. The clang seemed to rattle the windowpanes in the house and reverberate down the quiet street. He waited impatiently in the fading light of day as the seconds ticked by, and then rapidly struck the brass plate a few more times.
It was hell being a twin, or so Iverson had thought until he arrived in London and found out hell was actually realizing the man he always thought was his father wasn’t. The easiest thing for him and his brother to do would have been to sail back to Baltimore on the first ship. Instead, he and Matson had decided to keep with their original plan and move to London, and prove to their older brother and the gossipmongers that they weren’t going to hide from anything. And the questioning glances and whispers about their parentage had settled down, until today.
A tall, buxom woman wearing servants’ attire jerked open the door. Her thin, graying brows scrunched together in an irritated line across her forehead, as did her lips on her flat, pinched face. She looked him up and down with peculiar, deep-set brown eyes and then sniffed with annoyance.
“Ye didn’t have to hit the knocker so hard. I’m slow, not deaf, ye know.”
Iverson had never been taken to task by a servant and was momentarily surprised by the woman’s insolent manner. He was in no mood to be hauled over the coals by a peevish maid. But before he could gather his wits and put her in her place, she snapped her large hands to her ample hips, glared at him once again, and said, “What can I do for ye?”
The woman clearly wanted him to know she had better things to do with her time than bother with him. Her surly attitude made him even angrier with her employer. It shouldn’t surprise him that the scoundrel he was after had such a disrespectful servant in his employ. Iverson should have expected it.
Refusing to let go of his temper until he faced his intended prey, Iverson held his offensive retort in check and remained in what he considered a civil attitude. “I’m Mr. Iverson Brentwood here to see Sir Phillip Crisp.”
The servant rolled her eyes beneath puffy lids and lifted her rounded chin as if to dismiss him. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“And why isn’t that possible?” he asked, his ire growing stronger.