Her Ladyship's Man (23 page)

"Melanie?" Drew leapt to his feet, the brandy snifter falling from his fingers. "What about her? Is she all right?"

"I fear not, Captain." The butler's grave tones
made Drew's stomach clench with horror. "She appears to have suffered a relapse. The marchioness sent me to fetch a doctor, but I thought I should inform you as well."

Drew was already pulling on the jacket he had discarded only half an hour earlier, his thoughts all on Melanie. Sir was right, if he loved Melanie and she him, then he owed it to each of them to tell her of that love. If she rejected him . . . He grew cold at the thought.

Sir accompanied them back to Marchfield House, an odd light visible in his deep blue eyes. He would glance at Drew occasionally, a slight smile touching his lips, but he kept his own counsel. Soon they were pulling up in front of the house, and the wheels had barely stopped before Drew jumped out and went dashing up the front steps.

"Where is Melanie?" he demanded of the footman who let him in.

"Her ladyship be in her room," the footman answered, gaping at his former superior in amazement. "But she be resting now, and—"

Drew didn't wait for any further explanations, taking the stairs two at a time in his eagerness. He reached her door and threw it open, groaning in anguish at the sight of her lying so still and silent on the bed.

Melanie heard the door hitting the wall and felt herself being gathered up in a protective embrace. "Melanie, sweet, be all right, please be all right," she heard a soft voice pleading as a string of frantic kisses was trailed across her cheek and down her neck.

She kept her eyes shut, threading her fingers through his thick hair and reveling in the sweet sensations. If this was part of the dream she had
been having, then she hoped she never awakened. She sighed deeply, using her hold on her dream-lover to bring his lips down to hers. The ardent kiss they exchanged brought all her senses flaming to life, but it wasn't until she felt his warm hand gently cupping her breast that her eyes flew open.

"Drew!"

"I love you, Melanie," he was whispering, his voice husky with passion as he held her against him. "Please say you will marry me!"

Melanie's eyes filled with tears as she gazed up at him. This was real, she realized, happiness chasing out the last of her bleak despair. Drew was here holding her and speaking the words she had been longing to hear. She touched his cheek lovingly, her voice not quite steady as she answered him. "Oh, yes, Drew, my darling," she said softly, "yes, I will marry you!"

"Darling!" Drew held her close, pouring all of his love and his passion into a burning kiss. When he pulled back, they were both breathing heavily, and Melanie's cheeks were tinted a rosy red.

"The doctor will be delighted to see such color in your cheeks, my love," he laughed huskily, brushing a thumb over the full mouth that was still throbbing from his kiss. "Although he will doubtlessly think himself ill used to have been called out for nothing."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Melanie asked, feeling warm and dazed all at the same time. She wasn't sure why Drew had stopped kissing her, but she wished he would get back to the matter at hand.

"Your head," Drew answered, frowning as he touched the bandage that covered her wound. Gazing down at her, he realized she looked rather
healthy for a young lady who was supposedly at death's door. "Halvey said you had had a relapse and he has gone to fetch the doctor."

"But I am fine," she answered, as puzzled as he by the odd circumstances. "When the doctor was here this morning he said I should be up and about by the end of the week."

"But—"

"Well, are you going to stand there all day arguing, or are you going to get properly engaged?" the marchioness demanded, standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her bosom. She wasn't alone; Miss Evingale was standing beside her, a smile of delight lighting her prim face. Sir stood on the other side of her, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he studied the two young lovers.

"I am afraid her ladyship is quite right," he drawled, "after what we have witnessed, I am afraid the two of you really have no course other than to marry. You have been most thoroughly compromised, I promise you."

Melanie and Drew looked at their unexpected visitors and then at each other before breaking into laughter. "
The Romance of Lady Clarice
," Melanie said as Drew helped her into her dressing gown. "Really, Lady Charlotte, I might have known you would pull such a trick!"

"And don't forget that Gothic nonsense about the relapse," Sir pointed out, enjoying his friend's discomfiture immensely. "I spied that at once, having recently read it in a book. 'The Purloined Heart,' I believe it was called."

"
A Heart Purloined
," Lady Charlotte corrected him, beaming at Sir in approval. "I am glad to see you took my advice and read it. Did I not tell you such books were instructive?"

"Indeed you did, your ladyship, and if I ever find myself fighting spirits or digging for buried gold, I shall know just what to do. But in the meanwhile, what of our lovebirds? Are you certain the earl will not object to Merrick's suit?"

"Of course not!" The marchioness gave a loud snort. "Percy may be a bit of a stickler about some things, but I assure you he is not beyond all sensibility. Young Drew has proven himself more than worthy of our Melanie, and so long as she loves him, the earl will have no objection. Besides," she added shrewdly, "at the gel's advanced age, we cannot afford to be so choosy. We do not want her to end her days as an old maid."

Melanie knew she should protest, but in truth she was simply too happy to care. Her wildest dreams had come true, and she did not give a whit how or why this had come to pass. She and Drew loved each other, and in her mind that was all that mattered.

Drew shared her indifference at how easily they had been maneuvered by the wily marchioness. He knew he would still have to speak to the earl, but so long as he knew Melanie loved and wanted him, he could face the coming interview with equanimity. Oblivious to the others, he took Melanie's hand and carried it to his lips for a soft kiss.

"Well, I suppose I had best go and talk to the earl," Lady Charlotte said, drawing her tiny frame erect. "I dare say he has worn a hole in the carpet by now. As for you, young man"—she gave Drew a warning glare—"you have five minutes in which to pop the question. Mind you do it properly."

Once they were alone again, Drew grinned down at Melanie. "If either of us had an ounce of pride, we would refuse to get married, if only on general
principle," he said, his hazel eyes bright with love. "Not that it would do us any good, I fear. As Sir said, we have been most thoroughly compromised."

"So we have been." Melanie was surprisingly happy about the matter. "If you were to cry off, Father would have to call you out, and only think of the scandal
that
would cause. I am certain Sir would never stand for such a thing."

"Not for one moment," Drew agreed, unable to resist depositing another kiss on her saucy mouth. "He has a positive mania when it comes to secrecy, and he insists that his agents keep as low a profile as possible. He would want me to marry you, if only for that reason."

"Then I suppose we had best post the banns at once," Melanie said, her violet eyes sparkling with warm laughter as she gazed up at him. "If our engagement is long enough, I suppose one of us could back out gracefully without too great a scan—"

His ardent kiss stopped the rest of her protest, and when he drew back she was trembling with desire. "I love you, Melanie," he said, his voice deep with love. "And if you do not agree to marry me, I vow I will carry you off to Gretna Green!"

"Are you quite certain, Drew?" she asked shyly, scarce able to believe in her good fortune. "I couldn't abide it if you were ever to have any regrets. I know I am not the easiest person to get along with. Papa says I have a temper like a fishwife, and I am afraid I am rather managing, and—"

Again she was silenced by his kiss, and when he lifted his head this time, she was more than convinced of his eagerness to become her groom. "I am certain, my darling," he told her quietly. "I love you passionately; and although I cannot say that it
may not cause us problems in the future, I must admit that I love your temper and your managing ways. But are
you
certain you wish to marry me? I have neither title nor fortune, and I am involved in work that could take me from your side without a moment's notice. It is difficult, dangerous work, and the time could come when I don't return from a mission. You must accept that, if you accept me."

"Then I accept it all," she said softly, pressing a loving kiss on his tanned throat. She knew living with his chosen profession would be hard, but how much harder was the prospect of living without him. Somehow, she knew they would find the strength to face the future together. Holding back her tears, she sent him a teasing smile.

"And now, Davies, hadn't you best get about your duties? If you remember correctly, my grandmother left you some explicit directions, and I must insist that you carry them out. I intend to be a rather demanding employer, you see," she added, trailing a daring finger down his cheek.

"Indeed I do, your ladyship," Drew replied, drawing her into his arms. "How fortunate for you that I am such a dutiful employee. I shall make it my personal duty to see that all of your demands are most thoroughly satisfied." And with that he gave her a passionate kiss, showing her in a most delightful manner just how dutiful he intended to be.

About the Author

A winner of The Romance Writers of America's Golden Heart Award for Best Regency for her very first novel, Joan Overfield has written 23 Regency Historical Romances. In addition, she has also written two time travel romances: the ground-breaking THE DOOR AJAR and its sequel, TIME'S TAPESTRY. In 2000 Romantic Times Magazine voted THE DOOR AJAR one of the top 100 Romances of all time. Joan has made several bestsellers lists and won numerous awards for her work, including A Career Achievement Award in Regency Romance from Romantic Times magazine.

A life-long Anglophile, Joan uses her degrees in History and English to conduct research in the fascinating and colorful Regency period and has compiled an impressive library. She has also taught numerous workshops on the period and the craft of writing, is a member of the Beau Monde writers group.

"Ms. Overfield's sense of romance is deliciously unerring." -- --
Romantic Times

Her Ladyship’s Man

Joan Overfield

Copyright 1990, 2014 by Joan Overfield