The Songbird's Seduction (39 page)

“I love you, Lucy. I’ve been such a fool but you have to forgive. You have to because I love you and I know you love me, God knows why, but I’m sure as hell not going to question it. I’m simply going to do my damnedest to make sure you never stop.”

She started to smile but then recalled a very good reason not to smile. “Miss Litchfield.”

He shook his head. “She’s not you. How could I . . . ? If I’m a cad then so be it. But at least I’m not the sort of cad who would marry one woman when I’m in love with another.”

She should stop now, while she was ahead. After all, everything she wanted was right here in her arms. She shouldn’t muck it up by asking stupid, irrelevant questions like, “What about your job?”

But she did. Because she did love him.

“I don’t need to work, Lucy. I’m disgustingly well-heeled. I
do
need you. With you, I’m the man I want to be, the person I want to be. I was never interested in recognition or acclaim, I work because I find it fascinating. Whether I’m a professor at St. Phillip’s or not won’t make it any more or less so.”

Something in her expression made him drop a kiss on her lips and once there, linger longer before reluctantly lifting his head again.

She told herself to be satisfied but restraint had never been her strong suit. “You said you didn’t know me.”

He laughed. “I was angry. I knew it for a lie the second it left my lips. True, I may not know what cake you like best, or the name of your first crush. But I do know you don’t speak French. I know you are the most audacious storyteller I have ever seen”—his beautiful mouth quirked with humor—“that you sing like a fallen angel and dance like a Gypsy’s fantasy.

“I
know
you in my very bones, Lucy. You’re no more a stranger to me than my own breath, the sun in the sky, or the sound of my heartbeat and no less a part of me. So, please say you’ll marry me, Lucy. And pray God, say you’ll marry me soon.”

For a split second Lucy thought of Lavinia boldly telling Lord Barton that he would have to court her. But then she looked at Archie, his rumpled black locks and cleft chin under his unshaven
cheeks, his black-lashed pirate eyes, and the strong throat bared to the night air, and his mouth . . . oh my, his mouth . . .

Waiting had never been her strong suit, either.

“Yes,” she said as he caught her up in his arms.

And didn’t have to wait at all.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

What could be more delicious, exciting, or evocative than the Edwardian age? I’ve been hooked ever since binging on
Downton Abbey
one snowy Minnesota winter day.

The Songbird’s Seduction
takes place a wee bit earlier than Season One of the wonderful BBC production, but I have been ruthless in making sure that I faithfully represented the clothing, the idioms, the theatrical productions, the music, the technology, and the ferry transportation of 1908 and, hopefully, how women were enjoying newfound freedoms.

Because I’m a history geek, I have to share some of this über-cool stuff. Better to do so here, I believe you’ll agree, than in the middle of a scene. Here are but a few things you might find interesting: Margery is based on an American female impersonator, Julian Eltinge, whose onstage alter ego was Vesta Tilley. At one time, he was the highest-paid actor in New York, and toured the continent to rave reviews.

Written in the mid-nineteenth century, the song “Dark Eyes,” though Ukrainian, has long and traditionally been associated with Russian Romani. Over the years it has had so many lyrics attached to it, to so many ends, that I settled on using a jumble of several. If you hear it, I’m sure you’ll recognize it. It’s the quintessential passionate Gypsy ballad.

I have strived for verisimilitude in my down-and-dirty portrayal of the siege of Patnimba. While there is no hill station called Patnimba, the Indian Mutiny of 1857 claimed many lives, both innocent and otherwise, and looting on both sides was rampant. But for the purposes of the story, I made up the fortress and the siege.

Finally, the first Olympic boxing match was held in St. Louis in 1904.

I think Archie won.

Minnesota, 2013

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHOR

Photo © 2010 Heidi Ehalt

New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author Connie Brockway has received starred reviews from both
Publishers Weekly
and the
Library Journal,
which named
My Seduction
as one of 2004’s top ten romances.

An eight-time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award, Brockway has twice been its recipient, for
My Dearest Enemy
and
The Bridal Season.
In 2006 Connie wrote her first women’s contemporary,
Hot Dish,
which won critical raves. Connie’s historical romance
The Other Guy’s Bride
was the launch book for Montlake Romance.

Today Brockway lives in Minnesota with her husband—a family physician—and two spoiled mutts.