“But you had concerns about me,” Adele reminded him. “You said it yourself—that I was not faithful to my fiancé. As I became more open and aware of my passions, you became more threatened by memories of your parents. You did think I was like your mother, and it broke my heart that you believed I was dishonorable, even though it was true in certain ways. The fact is, I couldn’t go through life feeling as if my husband did not trust or respect me completely.”
“I didn’t know the truth about my mother, Adele, and I was self-righteous. I was angry with her because she was not perfect, but she had a difficult burden to bear. I know that now. I must forgive her for her weakness, because I have suddenly found myself in a similar situation—in love with a woman who was forbidden to me. And you....” He took a step closer and laid a hand on her cheek. “You are not perfect, Adele. I know that. At first I thought you were, which is why I was enamored with you in the beginning. But then I saw the passion in you, and yes, I mourned the loss of my perfect, pure Adele, and I felt guilty for being the cause of that, but I needed you to break out of that perfect shell in order for us to be together, and you did.
“So now, I cannot idolize you anymore. You have flaws. You made a commitment to my cousin, and you fell in love with another man and broke that commitment. But that man was me, and hurting Harold was the right thing to do. So, when I look at you now, I know that you are as close to perfect as any real person can be. I do trust you, Adele. Completely.”
Adele stared, speechless, stunned by his vehemence and honesty. She remembered the morning she woke next to him at the inn, the final day of their travels. She had felt happy, safe, and content next to him. Everything had felt right. There was no other word for it.
All at once, she wanted more than anything to wake up beside him again and feel that same sense of contentment—that all was right with the world—every day for the rest of her life. It was where her heart was meant to be. With him. In his home. At Essence House.
It was time to admit the truth to herself. She loved him. She loved Damien Renshaw, with every inch of her soul, and she believed in him. Wholly and absolutely. It was time to trust her heart. To follow it, and to go after what she wanted.
“From the first moment I met you,” she said shakily, “I was drawn to you, and it brings me some relief to finally know that I was not so wrong after all to care for you the way I did. I believe my heart had seen you better than my eyes.”
She watched the strain in his face fade away. He wet his lips, looking hopeful and joyful, though still tentative.
“There was more to you,” she continued, “than what could be seen or heard about through other people’s misguided opinions. What I have learned about you this morning—that in your own strange way, you have always wanted love and fidelity—I like very much.”
He gripped both her hands in his. She had never seen him look so vulnerable before. Her knight. Her black lion, who feared nothing.
“Is that all, Adele? You like what you have heard? Can there ever be more? Because I must have more.”
“There is already more,” she replied, feeling an overwhelming urge to laugh out loud. “Much more. I love you quite hopelessly, Damien Renshaw, and I have loved you for what seems like forever.”
His lips fell upon hers suddenly, without reservation or composure. He swept her up into his arms until her feet lifted clear off the ground, and Adele shook with bursts of laughter. Or were they sobs of joy?
He kissed her deeply as if the intimacy could erase all the agony and frustration of the past month—when they had both been certain they could never have each other.
Well, they would have each other. Utterly and completely for the rest of their lives.
Damien pulled back and dropped to one knee. He held one of her hands in his and kissed it tenderly before he lifted his gaze to look up at her face, into her eyes.
“Adele Wilson, I love you. I want to be with you forever. I want to have children and grandchildren with you, I want to laugh with you, go for long walks in the woods with you, make love to you, and I want to make you the happiest woman on earth, if I can. You are the only woman in the world for me, and I cannot imagine my life without you. Will you marry me?”
She squeezed both his hands and pulled him to his feet. “Yes, Damien. Yes, to everything.”
He pressed his lips to hers again, with passion and love and the promise of forever. Then he rested his forehead upon hers and smiled down at her. “You have made me so happy. I’ve never been this happy before. Not once in my life.”
“There is more to come,” she promised. “I will make you happy again, every day if I can. I am a better person for knowing you. I am happier with myself. When I look in the mirror, I no longer see a stranger. I know the things I want. I know I want a simple life with you in your messy, unpretentious house.” She grinned.
“Then messy and unpretentious is what you shall have. I am most pleased to be marrying a woman who will not make me get my hair cut.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “Cut it? I should think not!”
He smiled. “It’s a fright in the mornings.”
“It’s beautiful.”
Damien pulled her into his arms again and kissed her hand. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a red candy stick. Adele’s lips parted in surprise as she took hold of it.
“Damien....”
“I’ve been wanting to give you this and so much more ever since that first night you told me about wanting something you didn’t think you could have. So here it is. You can have what you want, Adele. I will devote my life to making sure you know it.”
Adele took his face in her hands and kissed him passionately on the mouth. “Will Harold be all right with this?” she asked. “Will Eustacia and your grandmother ever forgive us?”
“I believe they will,” he replied, “because Harold is a true friend. We will move past this, and he will survive.”
She smiled. “He will be my friend, too, Damien. He always was.”
“There will only be one problem,” Damien said, glancing off to the side.
She cringed with a pang of apprehension. “What is that?”
“We will all have to continue to put up with Violet. God give us strength.”
Adele laughed, and pulled him close for another kiss.
Epilogue
Wentworth Castle, Yorkshire
Two months later
It was just beginning to rain when Lily walked quickly back from the stables following her early morning gallop across the moors. She wore a black riding habit and top hat, but her shiny new boots—crunching over the white rocks in the courtyard—were pinching her feet. She looked forward to getting out of them and finding her old ones before someone gave them away.
She entered the house and was just pulling off her gloves when a footman approached with a letter on a silver salver. “For you,” he said.
She picked up the letter and glanced at it. It was from Sophia. She stuffed her gloves into her pockets and tore at the seal. Lily slowly climbed the stairs while she read....
Dear Lily,
The Season is finally over, and James and I and the boys will be coming home soon. Martin will follow a day or two later.
I can hardly wait to see you and Marion, and the boys are looking forward to returning to the country where they can run about and play with the ponies. They have especially been missing the little gray one.
You will be pleased to hear that Adele is very happy in her new home at Essence House. It was exactly as she had imagined it would be, and she told me she felt as if she was born to live there. I am so happy for her. She sends her love.
(In case you are wondering, my father insisted on giving them a very generous wedding gift, even though they protested it strongly. But you know my father. When he wants to do something, he does it. Adele has grown to
be very much like him, I daresay.)
Please tell Marion that I found a lovely hat for her yesterday, and I believe it will go well with her blue day dress with the navy velvet trim. I will bring it when I come.
I hope all is well at home, and I will see you in a few days.
Love,
Sophia
P.S. You may also be interested to know that Lord Whitby left London early this Season and returned to his country house. James said he was trying to avoid Miss Violet Scott, who evidently was making rather a spectacle of herself, following him everywhere. What a shame. She was very pretty. Though I don’t think she is quite Whitby’s type.
See you soon,
S.
Lily stopped at the top of the stairs and read the postscript again. A single tear ran down her cheek. It was not sadness, but relief that she felt—a most delightful, invigorating wave of relief.
Author’s Note
The heroine of this book, Adele Wilson, is the youngest of three fictional sisters who leave old New York to go husband hunting in London in the late-Victorian period. While these sisters are entirely fictional, I based each of them on a number of real-life American heiresses, as well as some fictional characters from the works of some nineteenth and twentieth-century novelists.
The most obvious models for this trilogy are the Jerome sisters—Jennie, Clara, and Leonie, who according to the book To Marry an English Lord, by Gail MacColl and Carol McD. Wallace, came to be known as “the Beautiful, the Good, and the Witty.” My own three fictional sisters I would similarly describe as “the Beautiful, the Adventurous, and the Good.”
Jennie Jerome married Lord Randolph Churchill, second son of the seventh Duke of Marlborough, and they became parents to a baby boy who would later lead the nation—Winston Churchill. You can read about Jennie and Randolph in the book, Jennie: The Life of Lady Randolph Churchill, by Ralph Martin. Jennie’s two sisters also married Englishmen.
Another real-life American heiress was Consuelo Vanderbilt, who married the ninth Duke of Marlborough in 1895. She is perhaps the most prominent example of an American heiress abroad, partly because she wrote a book about her life—The Glitter and the Gold. In it, she describes the hardships and heartbreaks she faced as a young woman who was expected to do her duty to her family by marrying into the British aristocracy. Sophia, the oldest Wilson sister, in my book To Marry the Duke, is the closest to Consuelo, as she also marries a duke and experiences much loneliness as an outsider.
In this series, Adele’s mother, Beatrice Wilson, is loosely based on Consuelo’s mother, Alva Vanderbilt, who aggressively fought the social divisions between the old New Yorkers and the nouveaux riches. In March 1883, Alva held a costume ball in honor of her friend Lady Mandeville, a fellow American who had married an English lord in 1876. Alva invited a thousand guests, and all were anxious to see the extravagant mansion Alva and her husband had just built on Fifth Avenue. She neglected to invite the old New York matriarch, Mrs. Astor, however, because according to protocol, Mrs. Astor—being the social superior, who had not acknowledged the Vanderbilts previously—had to call on Alva first. Mrs. Astor finally did have a card delivered to Alva and was subsequently invited to the Vanderbilt ball.
My fictional heroine Adele describes the Knickerbockers in New York when she’s in the cottage with Damien. If you’re interested in reading about Old New York, try The Age of Innocence, by Edith Wharton. Wharton was born into an old New York family, but spent much of her life abroad in Europe. In addition to The Age of Innocence, she wrote about American heiresses in London in another of her novels, The Buccaneers, which is one of my favorite books and inspired me to write this series.
Edith Wharton became good friends with Henry James, who was also born in New York and chose to live much of his life abroad. He, too, wrote a number of great books about Americans mixing with Europeans. My favorite of his novels is Washington Square, set in old New York. This—and the society Edith Wharton writes about in The Age of Innocence—is the socially exacting world Adele is so anxious to leave behind.
I hope you enjoyed this trilogy about the Wilson sisters. If you did, you may want to read my spinoff series (Can This Be Love Trilogy) which begins with Love According to Lily. The novel was originally published by Avon/Harper Collins in 2005 and received a Reviewers Choice Award from Romantic Times for Best Historical Romance of 2005, and also the Bookbuyer’s Best Award from Greater Detroit RWA. Read on for an excerpt from that novel and my complete booklist.
If you would like to stay informed about my future releases, or learn about my monthly autographed book giveaway, please visit my website at www. juliannemaclean.com and sign up for my email newsletter. I would love to send news to you. Lastly, if you would like to know when an ebook edition from my backlist goes on sale for 99¢ (or is occasionally offered for free), please go to my author profile on Bookbub and click the “follow” button. You’ll be sent an email whenever there’s a flash sale. I am also on Facebook and Twitter where I chat with readers every day.
–Julianne
Excerpt from
Love According to Lily
Excerpt Copyright Julianne MacLean
Publishing Inc. 2020
There is only one man in the world for Lady Lily, and she’ll use whatever seduction is necessary to win his heart….
“MacLean’s compelling writing turns this simple, classic love story into a richly emotional romance.” –Booklist
“It takes a talented author to segue from a lighthearted tale of seduction to an emotionally powerful romance that plays on your heartstrings…a very special, powerful read.” –Romantic Times Book Reviews
Being raised in a strict, humorless household did nothing to dampen Lady Lily Langdon’s wildly romantic nature—nor cool her lifelong affection for Edward Wallis, Earl of Whitby, her elder brother’s oldest, dearest friend. But Edward cannot see the lovely woman she’s become for the young schoolgirl she once was. So with lessons in flirtation from her American sister-in-law, Duchess Sophia, Lily means to open Edward’s eyes and win his heart.
But just when her seduction begins to take hold, a shocking twist of fate forces Edward to take stock of the reckless life he has lived. Flirtation with his best friend’s younger sister is the last thing he wants, but Lily cannot give up the dream of rapture that surely awaits her, if only she can prove to the handsome, haunted earl that it is never too late to fall in love.
Prologue
Wentworth Castle, Yorkshire
Summer 1872
It was at the youthful age of twenty-one that Edward Peter Wallis, Earl of Whitby, raised a coffee cup to his lips and made the conscious decision that he did not want to die. Or rather, he did not want to grow old—for being young was far more entertaining.
“Here comes your little sister, dashing up the hill,” Whitby said to his friend James, the Duke of Wentworth, who sat across from him at the breakfast table.
They’d had the table brought outside onto the sunny stone veranda, having decided they needed fresh air to ward off the disagreeable effects of their excessive consumption of brandy the night before. Although now it seemed a rather idiotic idea, as the sun was casting a blinding reflection off the sterling silver coffeepot in the center of the table, making it necessary to squint. And squinting was never advisable when one was nursing a pounding headache.
“Look at her run,” Whitby said, lounging back in his chair as he watched Lily, her blue-and-white skirts flying everywhere. “You don’t suppose she’s going to ask me to play hide-and-seek, do you? Good Lord.”
“Maybe tag,” James replied irritably, resting his forehead on a finger.
Whitby was still wearing the same clothes he’d worn the night before, and his face was prickly with stubble. He felt grimy and quite honestly disgusting, yet he couldn’t help smiling at Lily, who was racing toward him with a fresh smile on her face, her bright dr
ess clean and crisp. She had just turned nine.
He leaned toward James. “When do you think she’ll be old enough to realize we’re still half pickled when she comes running up the hill to our breakfast table? I swear it goes completely unnoticed by her innocent eyes when we stagger our way to find her behind the rosebushes or wherever she takes herself off to hide.” He lowered his voice to a near whisper. “And she giggles, James. She doesn’t know we find her because we can hear her.” He chuckled and took another sip of his coffee.
“Speak for yourself, Whitby. You may still be pickled, but I am sober enough to feel the throbbing in my brain, and if Lily asks me to chase her....”
“You’ll tell her to go play with her dolls.”
Lily came to a slow stop on the veranda, breathing hard and smiling. She wore her shiny black hair in two braids with blue ribbons that matched the broad ribbon sash on her dress. “Lord Whitby! I knew you’d be here this morning!”
“And how did you know, Lily?” he asked, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees, ignoring the pounding in his head. “Did a little bird tell you? Or perhaps it was that spider on your shoulder.” He pointed.
Lily jumped and brushed at herself. “Where?”
Whitby laughed, though it hurt to do so.
Lily shook her head at him. “You are a tease, Lord Whitby. And you need to take a bath. You both do. You smell like cigar smoke.”
Whitby raised an eyebrow at James. “From the mouths of babes.”
In Love with the Viscount (American Heiress Trilogy Book 3) Page 23