by Cheryl Bolen
She moaned. This was far too good to be true. “Are you sure? I’m scandalous. There will be a lot of talk.”
“Well, as long as you don’t poison me…”
“Gawain, I’m serious. Maybe you should take some time to think about it.”
“I have thought about it.” He held her away from him and gazed down at her. She couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Look at me,” he said.
“Gawain…”
“Do you love me?” he asked. “The truth, now.”
She swallowed. She took a deep breath. She shouldn’t be afraid, and yet she was. But of what? She knew Gawain, had known him forever. She had loved him all her life. “Gawain, I…”
He put a finger under her chin and raised her eyes to his. Oh, God, the worry in his gaze…
And then it became clear: if she’d been an innocent girl, she would have accepted his proposal with eager delight. She mustn’t let her previous marriages affect her decision. It wasn’t fair to her—or to him.
“Yes,” she said. “I love you with all my heart.”
After a great many kisses and a few brief words, Isolde and Gawain decided to join the hearts immediately. The little hook locked perfectly into place. Gawain clasped the chains around Isolde’s neck. The two hearts lay glowing on her breast.
“It’s lovely,” she said, “but I don’t trust my father not to try to keep it.” She unclasped it and put it in Gawain’s hand. “Give it to your mother as a gesture of goodwill, to hold until our wedding. I shall explain to my mother.”
Which she did, and found her father grumpy but resigned. “You could do worse, I suppose,” was all he said when she announced her intention of marrying Gawain as soon as possible. Which might not have sounded like an apology from anyone else’s mouth, but Isolde knew her father.
Or maybe she didn’t, for to her astonishment, he immediately reinstated the old custom of gathering all the villagers on Twelfth Night, to toast the apple trees for a fruitful crop in the year to come.
A huge cauldron of lamb’s wool was carried to the orchard that evening. Gawain and Isolde announced their engagement and were duly celebrated with toasts and well-wishes. Lady Statham and Lady Burke beamed side by side, and if Lord Statham and Sir Wally weren’t exactly cordial to one another, they put up a good pretense.
“Look!” Isolde said as the hubbub died down. Far back in the orchard, an otherworldly tableau took shape. The Cavalier strolled forward, a ghostly matron on his arm. He raised a spectral tankard in a toast of his own, and gestured behind…to a ghost in the garb of a Puritan soldier with a young woman, lithe and graceful, at his side.
As suddenly as the ghosts had come, they were gone, and the villagers marveled or shuddered according to their respective natures.
“Do you think they are gone forever?” Gawain asked.
“No,” Isolde said dryly, for the Cavalier had spoken to her earlier, and lingered now, invisible. “I’m afraid not.”
He smiled down at her. “What now?”
“The Cavalier says that although you are an honorable man and a worthy husband for me, your poetry is execrable. You need a tutor, and therefore, he has no choice but to remain.”
Gawain gave a shout of laughter. “As long as he promises to stay out of our bedchamber, that’s fine by me.”
“You have my word,” said the ghost of the Cavalier.
* * *
The End
About Barbara Monajem
Winner of the Holt Medallion, Maggie, Daphne du Maurier, Reviewer’s Choice and Epic awards, Barbara Monajem wrote her first story at eight years old about apple tree gnomes. She published a middle-grade fantasy when her children were young, then moved on to paranormal mysteries and Regency romances with intrepid heroines and long-suffering heroes (or vice versa). Regency mysteries are next on the agenda.
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Barbara loves to cook, especially soups. She used to have two items on her bucket list: to make asparagus pudding (because it was too weird to resist) and to succeed at knitting socks. She managed the first (it was dreadful) but doubts she’ll ever accomplish the second. This is not a bid for immortality but merely the dismal truth. She lives near Atlanta, Georgia with an ever-shifting population of relatives, friends, and feline strays.
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You can find details of her work at
www.BarbaraMonajem.com
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MISS HATHAWAY’S WISH
~ Book 4 of the Hathaway Heirs Series ~
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by
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SUZANNA MEDEIROS
Will Emily Hathaway get her Christmas Wish?
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Emily Hathaway wants to marry for love, but after three unsuccessful seasons she's given up on finding the same happiness her brothers found in their marriages.
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Sir Jonah Stanton has returned to England after ten years abroad. A Christmas party at Hathaway Manor provides the perfect opportunity to ease back into English society. But one thing has changed since Jonah's been away. His friend's little sister is now a young woman, and he finds himself appreciating her in ways he'd never imagined possible.
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As Emily becomes reacquainted with Jonah, she discovers the feelings she'd attributed to friendship run far deeper. Is it possible Jonah might be the man she's been looking for all along?
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Copyright © 2019 by Saozinha Medeiros
Chapter 1
December 15, 1816
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Emily Hathaway could barely contain her excitement as she made her way to the Hathaway manor house. She’d taken care to bundle up, so the cold air that nipped at her nose didn’t dampen her spirits.
It was ten days before Christmas, and her eldest brother had agreed to host a ball the following evening. Some of the guests who lived far away would begin to arrive this afternoon, and Emily’s thoughts had been filled with nothing else for the past month. The entire event would only last three days and two evenings, but it was, essentially, a house party. She’d never imagined such an event would take place under her brother’s roof.
James had become Viscount Hathaway four years before, when their uncle died without an heir, but he’d never lost his preference for avoiding social gatherings. He attended only those events he felt were necessary and declined all other invitations. Of course, that only resulted in his favor being courted by all, his attendance at a soiree a prize many sought to claim.
Her brother had loathed every second he’d spent in London over the past few years. He and Sarah had escorted her for what had proven to be three very long seasons during which James had scowled at any man brave enough to approach her. That Sarah had somehow convinced him to host this gathering spoke volumes about how much he loved his wife.
Emily quickened her pace, looking forward to spending the morning with the two women who had made her brothers so happy. She imagined Sarah would already have things well in hand, but there were always last-minute details that needed to be taken care of.
When she reached the manor house, she didn’t bother to wait for the butler to open the door and let her in. Nonetheless, he appeared instantly as she closed the door against the sharp breeze. She visited so often she might as well be living here. If Mama hadn’t insisted on staying at the dower house when James first inherited the viscountcy, she’d be living in the manor house now. But she hadn’t wanted to leave her mother alone when she was still reeling from the sudden change in their social status, and now Emily was comfortable with the arrangement.
She smiled at the older man as she removed her hat and cloak and handed him the garments. “It’s a beautiful morning despite the cold, isn’t it, Dalton?”
He inclined his head by way of response, but the corners of his mouth lifted in an ever-so-slight smile. “Lady Hathaway is waiting for you in the library.”
“Thank you,” she said, then rushed down the hall to the
room that was near the back of the house.
When she crossed the threshold, she saw that Grace was also present. Both she and Sarah were seated on a settee placed near the blazing fireplace, their fair heads bent together in conversation. She was grateful for the tendrils of heat she could feel reaching out across the room.
She’d known Sarah since she and James had wed four years before. She’d only been sixteen then, but they’d taken an instant liking to one another and had become friends from the start.
Grace was a newer addition to the family. When her brother Edward had returned to England the year before after serving in the war against Napoleon, he’d met Grace in Somerset and fallen in love. They’d been expecting Edward’s arrival in Northampton and had been shocked to receive an invitation to Somerset for his wedding to a young woman named Grace Kent. They now lived in a small house bordering James’s estate, and Edward helped with Hathaway Stables, continuing the business their father had started before any of them had been born.
Sarah turned to Grace as Emily made her way to the fireplace to warm her hands. “I told you she would be early.”
“I may be new to this family, but I could have predicted that for myself,” Grace said.
Emily only smiled in response as she waited for both women to stand so she could give them each her customary hug by way of greeting. It wasn’t the first time they’d teased her about her exuberance, but who could blame her? They were about to host an event she’d thought would never take place in this house.
She pulled back after hugging Sarah and gave her head a slight shake. “I still can’t believe James actually agreed to host a house party. Everyone can see that he loves you, but my brother has got to be one of the most stubborn men in existence.” As far back as she could remember, James had always insisted he’d never allow himself to be forced to stay under the same roof with strangers who would expect him to dance attendance on them. He hardly tolerated a dinner party, and his behavior when in London was barely civilized. “You must share your secret.”
Sarah laughed as she and Grace sank back onto the settee. She waited for Emily to join them before saying, “Well, to begin, don’t call it a house party in his presence. We’re referring to it as a Christmas ball and not mentioning the fact that some of the guests will be staying for two nights.”
Emily fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Changing the name of the event doesn’t change what it is.”
“You and I both know that. But James is terrified we’re going to have a snowstorm and all the guests will be trapped here for days on end. As for how I convinced him to host a ball in the first place…” She shared a look with Grace before continuing. “I shouldn’t tell you this since it takes the shine off my accomplishment, but it was actually Grace’s idea.”
Emily lowered herself onto the settee next to Grace, barely managing to keep her expression even as all manner of unwelcome thoughts threatened to surface. She’d walked in on each of her brothers and their wives several times in what could only be called a heated embrace, and she now regretted asking the question. “If this has anything to do with what you get up to in the bedroom when you’re alone with your husbands, I’d rather not hear the details.”
Grace and Sarah laughed again, and she realized she hadn’t been successful in holding back her slight grimace.
“If you really want to know, it involves you actually,” Grace said when their amusement died down.
“Me?” Emily was now more confused than ever. James would never agree to host a ball—especially not so near to Christmas—for her.
“I’m almost afraid to tell you.” Grace cast a sheepish glance at Sarah before facing her again. “You might not be happy when you hear this.”
Emily waved a hand in dismissal at Grace’s concern. “You might as well tell me straight away and get it over with. Even if I am annoyed, we all know I’ll forgive you soon enough as long as your intentions weren’t malicious.”
“Oh no, never that. It’s just that… Well, you’ll reach your age of majority just before your next season starts.”
This time Emily didn’t even try to hold back her frown. She tried not to think about the fact that she’d already had three unsuccessful seasons and was almost one-and-twenty with nary a marriage prospect in sight. After this year she feared she’d be firmly on the shelf.
“Which means,” Grace said with an arch smile, “that you will no longer need your brother’s approval to wed.”
Sarah jumped in to add, “I’ve assured Grace that James would never withhold your dowry to force you to fall in line with his wishes. He never approved of the way his father was cut off when he began breeding and selling horses, after all. James would never be so heavy-handed in dealing with his own family.”
Grace nodded. “That means you’ll be free to wed whomever you wish.”
Emily couldn’t see how her upcoming birthday had anything to do with hosting a ball, especially since she couldn’t imagine running off with anyone, and said as much.
Sarah shook her head in exasperation, her blond curls swinging with the movement. “This will be the last opportunity James has to choose someone suitable for you. Or at least to have a say in whom you choose. When I pointed that out to him, he relented and agreed to host this party. Of course, he also insisted on providing me with a list of suitable candidates.”
A sense of dread settled over Emily as she imagined all the staid, boring men who would be paraded before her like prized cattle over the next two days. She’d seen clearly enough the type of man of whom her brother approved, and none had held even a faint interest for her.
What had once seemed like an enjoyable occasion had now become a vain attempt to find her a husband. And the last thing she wanted was another reminder that she was destined to remain a spinster since she refused to settle for anything less than the happiness her brothers had found for themselves.
Emily leaned back against the cushions of the settee and closed her eyes. “I know you meant well, but the two of you have done me no favors.”
“Don’t fret,” Grace said, reaching over to pat her hand. “Sarah and I might have slipped in a few invitations about which our husbands know nothing. There will be several men here who never show their faces in London during the season. You’ll have the opportunity to meet someone new.”
“And,” Sarah added, “there will be no expectation placed upon you—or on these men—to circle each other, looking for a potential marriage partner. You can be yourselves without all those constraints.”
Emily opened her eyes and stared right at the woman who’d just spoken such nonsense. “Clearly you don’t know my brother as well as you think you do. He loves constraints. He’s always trying to rein in my ‘indiscriminate enthusiasm.’ And won’t it seem a little odd if it’s just us and a whole house filled with men?”
She had to close her eyes again as the awfulness of the situation settled over her. How humiliating. Everyone present would know exactly what Sarah and Grace were trying to do. Find a spouse for their almost-spinster sister-by-marriage whom no man wanted.
Although that wasn’t strictly true. Plenty of men had wanted her, but they’d wanted her generous dowry more. Anyone with enough wealth that the money to be settled on her when she wed wouldn’t be the main enticement was either already wed or utterly boring. Or old. She didn’t want to think about all the men who’d already buried wives and were looking for another young woman to take their place. And now she’d have to deal with them under this roof.
Thank the heavens she resided at the dower house with her mother. At least she could escape there when the situation became too insufferable at the manor house.
She realized it was too quiet and opened her eyes to see what Grace and Sarah were doing. She found them staring at her, twin expressions of exasperation on their faces.
“There will be plenty of women here as well—both wed and unwed. You needn’t worry about being uncomfortable.”
Emily
could feel the heat creeping up her face. “You can hardly blame me for my reaction. You could have assured me this wouldn’t appear to be a gathering put together to rid yourselves of me before you mentioned all the men you plan to parade me before.”
Grace gave Emily’s hand another brief squeeze. “You can hardly blame us for wanting to secure for you the same happiness we’ve found.”
“And as you recall,” Sarah continued, “I was forced into this marriage with James and wasn’t at all happy about it. But it turned out well for everyone involved.”
“If you say so,” Emily said, trying her best not to allow her dismay to cloud her former enthusiasm. Things wouldn’t be so bad if she made sure to stay close to her family or members of her own sex during the ball.
Sarah was quiet for several moments, and Emily knew she wanted to reassure her again, but instead she stood and moved over to the table that acted as her desk. Three chairs had been placed around it, and she settled into one and lifted a page from one of the neatly separated piles. “The menus have been planned, but I haven’t been able to make up my mind about what activities should be made available for this afternoon and tomorrow before the guests who are staying here return to their rooms to dress for the ball. This might be the shortest house party any of them have ever attended, and while they might not expect much, I’d like to ensure everyone isn’t bored to tears.”
Guilt settled over Emily when she saw the way Sarah’s brows had drawn together as she dropped the page she was holding and concentrated on a second pile. Pushing aside her doubts about any embarrassment she might suffer, Emily stood and, together with Grace, joined Sarah to give their opinions and to reassure her everything was well in hand.