Authors: Claudy Conn
WAVERLY HOUSE WAS built, furnished, and designed with modern fashion in mind. Every room was decorated with style, elegance, and good taste. Felicia, however, meandered from room to room as she found on this, her twenty-first birthday, that she could not achieve comfort anywhere. She was restless. She was anxious. She was worried, and she was desperately in love with a man who put the proprieties first.
She had wanted him, for these past six weeks, to fling those proprieties to the wind and declare himself, but he had not. Even yesterday after they had signed all the documents that would make her a free woman on this, her birthday, he did not take her into his arms. She was heartsick and determined to be so.
She had to believe that he loved her. She had seen it in his eyes and, even in those early days, had heard it in his voice. But here it was, her birthday … and where was he?
She peeped in at the study and found Freddy.
She liked this room. It was a man’s room, warm and cozy with comfortable furniture. Yes, she would stay in here with Freddy.
She plopped on a deeply worn leather winged chair facing him and said as he eyed her doubtfully, “Go on with whatever it is you are doing. I shan’t bother you.”
He eyed her in some fascination, and she knew that was because this was Freddy’s private domain where even his beloved wife did not intrude. He had set down his quill, but as Felicia appeared to settle down with a book, he picked it up again.
Only a brief moment or two went by before she advised him conspiratorially, “I am hiding, you know.”
He eyed her and asked, though seeming to regret it as soon as the words were out, “Why? From whom?”
“From Daffy,” she answered happily.
“Ah, yes. I adore my Daffy, but one must hide from her at times,” he agreed.
“It is my birthday today. She has been fussing over me without giving me leave to breathe,” Felicia further advised him.
He shook his head. “A fusser … is my Daff.”
“She wants me to go out with her this morning, but I am determined to stay here,” Felicia confided.
He sighed heavily and gave up whatever it was he was doing, and Felicia beamed at her victory as he asked, “Why?”
“Because I am hopeful … well, I think perhaps …”
“You are waiting for the duke to pay you a call,” he finished, tapping his nose as though to emphasize that nothing got past him.
She clapped her hands. “You are a knowing one, aren’t you?”
“In this case, one would have to be blind,” he answered with a warm smile. “Fond of him?”
“Yes,” she said solemnly.
“Well, I believe he is here now,” Freddy said quietly as he got to his feet.
The duke stood in the doorway, and Freddy said, “I shall leave you two for a moment, as I have just remembered that I need speak with my lady.”
So saying, Freddy was gone.
* * *
Lady Daphne heard her brother’s voice as he parted with Freddy and closed the study door at his back. She hurried forward, towards the study, but Freddy took her hands, pulled her to him, and said, “No, my dear, leave them be for a moment.”
“Them?”
“Yes, Felicia came into the study while I was trying to get some paperwork attended to.”
“You mean she was in there with you? Whatever for?”
“Hiding from you.” He chuckled.
“But why?”
“Didn’t want to go out. Wanted to wait for the duke,” he answered her.
“Yes, but we weren’t expecting Glen.” Evidently puzzled by this, Daffy frowned.
“No, but
he is
here,” he said patiently.
“Yes, but what is going on?”
“Don’t you know, dearest? You are usually more knowing than you appear to be right at this moment.” He held her hand and pulled her along. “Come on, then, I fancy we should prepare some champagne.”
“What? At ten in the morning?”
“Precisely!”
* * *
Inside the study, the duke stared at a vision in green velvet. She sat on the winged chair, with her dusky curls tied high and bouncing long to frame her piquant face. Her green eyes glowed with wonder as she waited for him to speak. Her cherry lips beckoned as they always did. She was everything he had ever wanted.
He couldn’t, mustn’t botch this.
This was the moment …
She saw him enter and close the door and sat perfectly still, then bopped up and moved from the winged chair to the dark leather sofa and sat watching him.
He was everything she had been aching for, this vision of a giant, this man in superfine dark blue coming towards her. He was her world, and she put out her hands in welcome.
He clasped them, and she said, “So, you are here at last.”
“Happy birthday, brat,” he answered, taking her hands and sitting beside her without letting either hand go.
She giggled and kissed his bare knuckles as he held her hands. “I knew you would come.”
“Did you? Do you know why I am here?”
“Tell me,” she answered.
“Because I cannot contemplate a life without you in it. Because my bachelor days were done the moment you appeared, because I love you with all my heart …”
He took her into a crushing embrace, and his mouth covered hers as his tongue joined and sealed the truth of his words.
When he pulled away he said on a hushed note, “I don’t want to think what my life would have been without you in it.”
“Then don’t,” she said simply.
“I have never felt this way before. Do you understand, my love? Bloody hell … am I doing this right?”
“I love you, Glen Ashton, Duke of Somerset,” she whispered.
He dropped to one knee and produced an exquisite ring of diamonds. “Will you be my bride?”
She pulled him up and said, “
Took you long enough!
”
He laughed and placed the ring on her finger, and she pressed herself into his body. “I don’t want a long engagement. Are we clear?” He laughed and kissed her long.
When he let her up for air, she told him in a low and sensual voice, “No … that would never do.”
~ * ~
In the mood for another Risqué Regency?
Try a taste of
Courting Kit (unedited)
~ One ~
THE EARL OF HALLOWAY stood, his hands clasped at his broad back, as he stared out the large panoramic window of his grandmother’s drawing room.
Its central location afforded a lovely view of the Grange’s extensive gardens. Halloway Grange was only one of four Halloway establishments, but it was the only estate that did not belong to the present, young earl.
This was because his late grandfather had purchased the estate and deeded it to his bride as a wedding gift all those years ago. It reposed in elegant state only forty minutes out of London, and it was where the dowager had come to stay permanently when her beloved husband died.
The earl smiled ruefully to himself, as it was most certainly, every square foot, all hers and yet also the earl’s very special, very favorite haven.
He adored his grandmother, and her personality was entrenched in the Grange. He brushed this sentiment aside, however, as it had no place at that moment in his active, frenzied mind. He was frustrated and irritated with his grandmother and not quite certain just what he could do about it all.
A good ten months had passed since Shawna and Roland had been married. He had thought that, by now, his grandmother would be at ease with it and gotten over what she could not change. However, something untoward must have ruffled her feathers. She was tighter than ever about his monthly spending and walked about as though she was on the warpath about something.
He had received a brief and somewhat curt note from her at his bachelor’s lodgings that had made it quite clear she required him at the Grange to attend her at once.
The earl was never one to take orders, even if it meant spiting himself, so he put the note aside, much inclined to ignore her command. His heart, though, that was another thing altogether. He loved her and told himself she was getting on in years. In the end, he allowed guilt and conscience to dictate his plans.
A string of mumbled curses escaped his lips. Frenzied pacing took over his steps, and he found himself requesting his man to put together an overnight portmanteau. No more than a few hours later, feeling reduced to schoolboy status, he stood in his grandmother’s drawing room, facing her.
One bloody look at her and a sure wariness tickled warning signals in his brain. Damn, but he was in for it, really in for it, and there was no escape. Hell and Brimstone! She had the power to reduce him to a child with one look. Absurd.
He fancied he saw a whirlwind in her eyes and a storm about to erupt from her lips. She dashed well meant to throw everything she had at him fast and hard, and he took a step back and warily considered her.
Diving right in, she wagged her bony finger at him and got right to the point. “I’ll not have your errant spending, do you hear me, young man? You are on the road to hell, and I won’t stand by and allow it to happen. No … this will not go on.”
Her voice became a buzz in his ears and a pounding hammer in his head.
She continued to rant at him for several minutes during which he found his mind wandering elsewhere. He had heard all this before.
Sadly, he was in a difficult position. His pockets were to let, and there was another three weeks before his trust fund would release his next quarterly payment. He was heartily bored with everything and everyone and damned sure he was, as she pointed out, on the road to hell.
When she paused for breath, he put up his hand and gave her a wry smile. “When you are done berating me, perhaps you will tell me what it is you want.”
“Marriage. You will get married, and soon!” His grandmother’s voice told him she meant to be implacable on this. “I will not have you diddling about gaming parlors with harlots and paramours. I will not have our name dragged through the mud as it is being done here and now and because of you!”
“A bit too—” he started to object before she cut him off. Why did she always over exaggerate? He gritted his teeth, and suffered in silence.
“Because of YOU!” she reiterated and made a clucking sound before she continued. “You will marry, because you don’t have a choice about that. However, I will allow you this: find someone who you could be comfortable with … for I have given up hope that you will fall in love. You don’t seem to have it in you,” she ended on a wistful note.
“Marriage is not for me. I can’t see myself doing the polite to the same woman day in and day out for the rest of my life. It wouldn’t be fair to some poor girl to marry me, expecting me to attend her. No, she would be bound in a loveless marriage, and I don’t think I could live with a woman who would be calculating enough to want to marry for my wealth or name.”
“You wealth is something I can keep from you. Your name won’t be worth much if you continue on your present road,” she snapped back at him.
He studied her from the top of her gray hair piled high with its silver lacey scarf draped handsomely over her head, over her gray and mauve simple gown, down further to her feet. He didn’t want to meet her faded blue eyes. She was right, on both counts, but … marriage? Ah no, she expected too much, and he was too young to saddle himself with a missish bride.
However, his pockets were to let. It was damned annoying to be so wealthy and yet not be able to draw on his inheritance. He sighed heavily and looked out the window. He was in a bind, yes, but he would not marry unless his heart was in it.
On the other hand, a respectable life was what he owed his name.
Still, he would not foist himself onto some young maid. How could he hurt some young thing who would expect him to escort her about, do the polite, and end by falling madly in love with her? Indeed, he wasn’t about to shatter some young maid’s dreams, and if he entered into such an alliance, that was precisely what would happen, for he was sure he had no heart to give.
He tried to explain his situation to his grandmother, but she waved him off and would not listen. “You will marry,” she told him, and her eyes didn’t give him an inch.
“Not going to make such a despicable arrangement—a marriage of convenience? No, my dear heart, no.” He tore through his black hair with a frenzied movement of his hand. Such an arrangement did not suit his sense of self. Somewhere in the recesses of his brain—the part that belonged to his youth—he wished he was other than who he was. He wished he did not have such a jaded opinion about love.
Thus, it was, after a long and hard conversation, he and his grandmother bade one another a very cool good night before he managed to escape to his room.