Marguerite Kaye - Regency Surrender - Scandal And Deception

‘I suppose it is too much to hope that she will forget her plan and find a husband,’ Justine said, staring into the bottom of her empty cup.

‘She seems very set on the idea of keeping it. In any case, you may settle it between the two of you,’ Will said softly. ‘It is your decision, and yours alone. But I suspect, what with a successful business and a safe full of jewellery, that you are now a wealthy woman, Miss de Bryun.’ He cleared his throat. ‘You shall have your pick of young men, should you wish to marry.’

‘Marry.’ Did he really need to remind her of the fact that they were not attached? Each time he called her Miss de Bryun, it was as if he hammered nails into her heart. What good would it be to finally have control over one’s own life, when one could still not have what one truly desired? ‘I will not marry,’ she said softly. After Will, she could not bear the thought.

‘It would be a shame if you did not,’ he said.

‘Now that you know my past, you must understand that it would not be possible.’

‘I am part of that past,’ he reminded her.

He was. But if he was the past, then what point was there in finding a future?

He cleared his throat and shifted uneasily in his chair. ‘No matter what you choose, I do not wish the events of the last few weeks to weigh too heavily on you. You are free, just as I said before.’

Was this what freedom was? To be alone and heavy hearted? If so, then she did not want it after all.

‘If a child results, of course I will claim it.’ He was talking quickly, as though wanting to get through all the difficult words that would separate them, before she could raise an objection. ‘For my part, I would be willing to forget the whole affair. No word of it shall ever pass my lips.’

‘You mean to forget me?’ Perhaps it was all the talk of freedom going to her head. She had expected a dismissal. She had even been prepared for it. But now that it was here, she could not manage to go meekly. ‘How convenient for you, William Felkirk, that you have such a porous memory. If you insist on forgetting anything, why could it not be everything that had happened before the last two weeks?’

‘You misunderstand me,’ he said hurriedly.

She ignored his interruptions. ‘You were quite happy to lie with me when you could not remember how we had met. But now that you know of my past, which was no fault of mine, you would forget me, as though I was never here. I was a fool to allow myself to believe, even for a moment, that a wonderful man like you might love me, in spite of what had happened. I—’

Suddenly, he pulled her out of her chair and into his lap. Warm, strong lips on hers cut off any desire to argue. As it had been for some days, during their kisses, they were in total agreement with each other. One of his hands cupped her bottom and the other plucked at the pins that still held her hair, eager to touch it now that there was no cap in the way.

He pulled back and shook his head in wonder at how out of hand things could get with a single kiss. ‘It was so much easier, when I thought you were my wife. Then I simply assumed that you would obey me and commanded that you come to bed. But now I have no right to hold you.’ To her surprise, his face was suffused with a schoolboy’s blush. ‘When I look into your eyes, I can barely find the words...’ He smiled. ‘Now that I have your attention, may I be allowed to speak in my defence?’

She nodded cautiously, afraid that if she moved too much, he would come to his senses and return her to her own chair.

‘As I have been trying to tell you, the decision is yours, just as it should have been from the first. You did not come willingly to my house or my bed. I will not force you to stay here, if you would prefer to be elsewhere. And I am hesitant to even offer this, for it is quite possible, when the accounts are totalled, that you will be worth more than I am. I would not want to be thought a fortune hunter. Nor would I press my advantage to force you into a union that might disgust you...’

She kissed him back to prove that she was most definitely not disgusted. In fact, his words were so sweet she was trembling in his arms. Or else she was finally giving in to the terror she had felt over the last twenty-four hours, when she was sure she would lose him.

In answer, his hands became less demanding and wrapped loosely around her, offering protection and support, as his kisses soothed her brow. ‘It is all right,’ he whispered. ‘You are safe now. If you stay with me, I promise you need never worry again.’

‘My past.’

‘You have none. Nor do I.’ He buried his face in her throat, pressing his lips to her skin. ‘My life began when I opened my eyes and saw you leaning over my bed.’

‘Suppose we met, just as I imagined,’ she said dreamily. ‘Quite innocently, in a shop in Bath?’

He smiled. ‘I would have been struck mute by your beauty and would probably have embarrassed myself by talking nonsense as I did just now.’

‘I’d have thought it charming,’ she said.

‘But you’d have been too proper to respond,’ he replied. ‘From what I have seen, you are a very reserved young lady, with your prim dresses and your silly caps.’

‘I would not have been wearing a cap,’ she reminded him. ‘They are for married ladies. It is why I no longer wear one.’

He stroked her head. ‘Then I am glad that you are unmarried, for I do love to touch your hair.’

‘I would not wear one, if my husband wished otherwise,’ she said. ‘You must realise by now what an agreeable wife I would be.’

‘Wife,’ he said, purring the word into the skin of her neck. ‘That is what I wish you to be. I had grand plans to court you slowly and properly, so you might come to me by your own choice. But it seems I am just as impulsive as you made me out to be, when you invented our elopement. Come away with me, Justine. We will go to Scotland this very day and marry over the anvil. We will bring our families this time to witness it. Other than that, it will be just as you imagined it.’

She would be married, just as she had dreamed. And it would be to the man she loved, more than life itself. ‘Almost as I imagined it,’ she reminded him. ‘In my story, we were forced to marry because you could not contain your desire and seduced me.’

He smiled and she felt the hand on her hip tighten, ever so slightly. ‘I had forgotten,’ he said, pushing her from his lap so that he could stand. And then, before she could protest, he has scooped her up in his arms and was carrying her towards the door. ‘Let us retire to my chamber, Miss de Bryun, and I will show you just how it happened.’

* * * * *

A Ring from a Marquess

Christine Merrill

To Melanie Hilton, for some fabulous information about Bath. Bowing, as always, to your superior knowledge.

Chapter One

Margot de Bryun ran a professional eye over the private salon that had once been the back room of Montague and de Bryun Fine Jewellery, then paused to plump the velvet pillows on the chaise . The old shop had been a rather stuffy place. But now that she was in charge and the late and unlamented Mr Montague’s name had been scrubbed from the gilt on the windows, she felt that the design was cheerfully elegant. The walls were white and the columns on either side of the door were mirrored. In the main room, the gold and gems lay on fields of white velvet and carefully ruched blue silk, in cases of the cleanest, clearest glass.

Once she was sure the stock was in order, she checked each shop clerk to make sure their uniforms were spotless. The female employees wore pale-blue gowns and the gentlemen a not-too-sombre midnight blue. She inspected them each morning, to be sure that no bow was crooked, no button unpolished, and no pin in a pinafore out of line. She required nothing less than perfection.