Lady and the Rake

by Anders, Annabelle

  His arms tightened around her. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world. Not only are you my wife and my lover, but you are also my best friend, my partner—the other half of my soul.”

  At the same time he lifted her heart with his words, he lifted her up and into his arms and then carried her to their bed. The bed where they talked, where they laughed, where they cried sometimes, but always, where they loved.

  “And you are mine!” he added. Her beautiful husband. For an instant, her heart fluttered.

  All those years ago, on that night when she’d taken such a bold step and thought she’d made a gigantic mistake, she had not made a mistake at all. Oh, she had not!

  It had been the smartest thing she’d ever done. She sighed as she opened her legs to welcome her husband into her body.

  Oh, yes. She’d climbed into the right bed after all.

  *** The End ***

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you have enjoyed reading Margaret and Sebastian’s story. Lady and the Rake is Book Six of the Lord Love A Lady Series, which also includes the following:

  Nobody’s Lady: The Duke and Duchess of Cortland (Lilly and Michael)

  A Lady’s Prerogative: The Earl and Countess of Hawthorne (Lady Natalie and Garrett)

  Lady Saves the Duke: The Duke and Duchess of Monfort (Abigail and Alex)

  Lady at Last: The Viscount and Viscountess of Danbury (Penelope and Hugh)

  Lady Be Good: The Viscount and Viscountess of Darlington (Rose and Rome)

  Turn the page to read the first chapter of Penelope and Hugh’s happily ever after; Lady at Last.

  .

  Lady At Last

  Penelope’s Story

  It had taken a miracle to change Penelope Cross’s mind about spinsterhood, but her mind had changed, nonetheless.

  Penelope wrinkled her nose. Had it been a miracle? It was simply a baby. A birth. The creation of life.

  Perhaps it was a miracle, after all. Penelope placed her gloved hands atop the sturdy fence post, leaned her head forward, and pressed it against the wood. The air was crisp; the sun bright. A bit of snow remained in the shaded areas of the meadow.

  It ought to be a perfectly normal February evening.

  But it was not.

  After thirty-six hours of labor pains, her dear friend, Lilly, the Duchess of Cortland, had finally given birth to a tiny, red-faced, wiggling, and wrinkled human. He was all of two hours old.

  Penelope had witnessed the entire event. And oh, what a spectacle it had been. One would think at the ripe age of eight-and-twenty that nothing could change her mind about what she wanted in life. But this…

  Seeing a child enter the world…

  Well, it had.

  And the craziest thought had developed as she’d assisted the midwife in cleaning the squirming, slimy little creature before handing him over to his exhausted mother.

  I want one.

  Which, of course, changed everything.

  Because Penelope had long ago given up any hope of capturing the attention of her one true love. And if she could not have him, she didn’t want anybody else. She would never marry; she had decided so just this past fall.

  And now this!

  This bodily need—this hunger—had hit her so very unexpectedly. An emptiness had opened up inside of her, an emptiness that could only be filled by making her own little screaming human.

  She smiled and covered her mouth with one hand, tears flowing down her cheeks. The look on Lilly’s face, in her eyes, when Penelope had handed her the blanketed bundle. Total fulfillment.

  Penelope swiped at her tears and sniffled.

  Lilly’s husband, the Duke of Cortland, had been in awe—of both his wife and his son. For theirs was a marriage of love. Not only did the duke have his heir now, but he and Lilly and that miniature human were a family now.

  Penelope did not begrudge them. In fact, most of the girls who’d befriended her when she’d first entered society were now married. Not only married but happily so. Even Abigail! The least likely of them all to wed!

  Again, the image of tiny little hands, tiny little feet and toes, tiny little everything, clouded her vision. And again, she experienced the hunger.

  I want one!

  But how? Well, the answer was obvious. Penelope sighed. I’ll have to find myself a man! A husband to be exact.

  As Penelope marched back toward Summer’s Park, the duke’s large country estate near Exeter, she mentally calculated which gentlemen of her acquaintance she’d be willing to tolerate. Since he was most definitely not interested, she was going to have to find somebody else. Somebody she could bear for the remainder of her life—or his, whichever the case may be.

  She could always set her sights upon one of his brothers. But Penelope quickly dismissed the notion.

  If she could not have him, then she most definitely did not wish to become a part of his family.

  No, she would have to find some other lucky gent.

  Hugh Chesterton, the Viscount of Danbury, was the most obvious choice. Except Danbury had eluded marriage for as long as she’d known him. Nearly ten years, in fact!

  Ouch. This fact reminded her that the next London season would be her tenth. Most would consider her firmly upon the shelf. At eight and twenty, she could never hope to take the ton by storm. She’d become something more along the lines of a drizzle. She personified London itself—in the form of a woman. Had she really participated in a decade of seasons?

  Not to be distracted by these negative thoughts, Penelope enumerated to herself the reasons Danbury would be a good choice.

  Proximity, first and foremost.

  He was, at this very moment, lounging in Cortland’s study consuming copious amounts of celebratory scotch. For this was where the gentlemen had spent the past twenty or so hours awaiting the news of a safe delivery for the duchess and their little marquess.

  Tolerability as well.

  Hugh, as a friend, could very possibly be molded into a tolerable husband. He was pleasant, had a fine sense of humor, and wasn’t a complete idiot.

  Neither was he hard on the eyes.

  And ah, yes, suitability. As a viscount, he was born of a fine lineage. Her parents would not find any fault in him whatsoever. Which wasn’t really an issue for Penelope, but it would make things easier.

  Availability.

  Hmmm… this was an uncertainty. Not that Danbury was actually attached to any other female of her acquaintance, but he had certainly been successful in escaping wedlock thus far.

  The debutantes who’d set their sights upon Viscount Danbury had gone about attempting to capture him in all the wrong ways. They’d endeavored to seduce him with their frills, sighs, batting eyelashes, and empty-headed opinions.

  But Penelope had an advantage. She knew Hugh.

  She knew him for what he was. A bit of a rogue. He preferred a turn of the ankle to a pretty blush any day. He preferred cleavage to lace, passion to infatuation, and he also preferred…

  Red hair.

  How did she know this? How could she not know this? Every demi-mondaine he’d ever appeared with had had red hair. Quite honestly, he must have worked his way through piles and piles of the stuff. And why had Penelope noticed this tendency?

  Well, she had red hair herself. Not the brassy, deep-colored red hair of Danbury’s lady friends, but a sun-kissed sort of red, closer to blond, but definitely red.

  This could come in quite handy.

  And, she reasoned with herself, Danbury needed to marry eventually. He was halfway through his thirties, for heaven’s sake. He might as well marry her. They got along well enough. Aside from some occasional bickering, that was.

  She was a baron’s daughter and tolerably pretty when she put forth an effort. She had a decent-sized dowry, and she was smart as a whip.

  Well, perhaps he would not appreciate the last attribute in his wife at first, but eventually, he would be forced to admit that such a characteristic made for a consi
derable asset in the woman one married.

  With her as his wife, he would not beggar any of his estates, nor would he cast any unwise votes in Parliament.

  Yes, Danbury could use such a guiding hand as hers.

  The cool air sent a shiver through her as she entered the large open foyer of the ancient castle. It reminded her of entering a cathedral—or a museum. The large home at Summer’s Park certainly boasted enough artwork and sculptures to rival either. She handed her coat, bonnet, and gloves to the stoic butler and then commenced climbing the long curving staircase to the upper floors.

  Would Danbury still be in the study?

  Would he be alone?

  Penelope stopped to glance in a mirror at one of the landings and pushed a few tendrils of hair behind her ears. She then removed her fichu and tucked it into her skirt. Shimmying her shoulders a bit, she leaned forward and plumped her breasts upward, so they were nearly coming out of her stays. Ah, yes, a bit of cleavage was just what she needed. She bit her lips to plump them up as well.

  Much better. Studying herself again, she untucked the hair from behind her ears and pulled out a few hairpins. The released strands made her look softer… less the spinster she’d been for several years now.

  Her eyes were shining, and her cheeks were a bit reddened from the cold outside. Penelope bit her lips one last time and smoothed her skirts.

  If Danbury was to be the father to her child, she’d best get to work now.

  She spun on her heel and marched purposefully toward the masculine study, her plan to land a husband underway.

  Later, she would consider that perhaps she ought to have slept on the matter first—allowed herself a few days to consider the matter practically. One didn’t always make the wisest of decisions when they’d gone two days without sleep.

  Lady At Last… Available now!

  Acknowledgments

  A huge shout out to the members of the Regency House Party, particularly all of those who participated in the Lord Love A Lady Book Club that led up to this release. First and foremost, the Lord Love A Lady Book Club was the brainchild of my amazing assistant, Tamera Beard. Thank you, Tamera, for being so diligent and keeping all of us moving along without fail. This project encompassed for more than I had imagined but has proven to be well worth the effort in a zillion different ways!

  For those who of you who aren’t in the group, I wrote Lady and the Rake over the course of eight weeks at the same time readers in my reader group: The Regency House Party, read through the Lord Love a Lady Series which included Nobody’s Lady, A Lady’s Prerogative, Lady Saves the Duke, Lady at Last and Lady Be Good.

  The comments, encouragement and LOVE that awaited me every single day added a level of insight to these characters that I never could have imagined.

  Thank you! Thank You! Thank You! For EVERY SINGLE POST! I am forever grateful for all of you:

  (In no particular order) Lori Cooper Lewis, Gayle Lee Fairless, Kelly Snyder, Lisa C. Dolphin, Estela Niedo-Williams, Susanne Cloen, Chandrani Shome, Laura Dickey, Maxine Wilson, Lana Lee Birky, Jacqueline Pfahl, Patricia King, Joanna Davis, Marisol Romero De Burneo, Taffy Ulm Homyak, Suzanne Irving, Mary Selmania Spurr, Heather Hindman, Cathy Green, Janice Addams, Cindy Lott, Sophia George, Dawn Keith, Theresa Baer, Judy Barrera, Amlas Siravor, Carlene Michalk, Lenna Hendershott, Kat Tolle, Carol Bradbury, Debbie Hoopes, Becky Hand Ossif, Debra Pruss, Ruth Salmador-rey Baraibar, Laura Incollingo, Maggie Whitworth, Pam Sharkey, Angela Mitchell, Tina Marie Young, Sarah Wente, Angela Lain, Christine Colburn, Sandy Smith, Gina Griffin Johnson and Gabrielle Land Reed (who does a mean karaoke, by the way).

  A particular hug and squeeze to Estelle for reading through this book at the last minute in order to help me make it shine. (Also, for keeping “aunts” from climbing up Margaret’s legs.)

  To my INCREDIBLE editor, Tracy Mooring Liebchen, for, as always, keeping me honest. To Jena Brignola for creating such awesome covers for me, and it goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway, to Rebecca Jenshak, for knowing when I need kudos and when I need a kick in the pants.

  And finally, a heartfelt thanks to YOU for stepping into my imagination. It means the world to me.

  Love,

  Annabelle

  About the Author

  Annabelle Anders began publishing in 2017 and left her day job a year later. Since then, she’s published over ten full length Regency Romance novels, with one of them receiving the distinguished RITA nomination in 2019. She writes at her home in the small town of Grand Junction, Colorado with the “help" of her two miniature dachshunds and husband of over thirty years and is happy to have finally found her place in life.

  Find info on all of Annabelle’s Books and at www.annabelleanders.com

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  Also by Annabelle Anders

  The Perfect Series

  (Also known as the Not-So-Saintly Sisters)

  The Perfect Debutante (Louella)

  The Perfect Spinster (Olivia)

  The Perfect Christmas (Eliza)

  Also: The Perfect Regency Romance Set

  The Devilish Debutantes

  Hell Hath No Fury

  Hell in a Handbasket

  Hell’s Belle

  Hell of A Lady

  Hell Hath Frozen Over (novella)

  To Hell and Back (novella)

  Hell’s Wedding Bells (novella)

  The Lord Love A Lady Series

  Nobody’s Lady

  A Lady’s Prerogative

  Lady Saves the Duke

  Lady at Last

  Lady and the Rake

  From the Fortunes of Fate Shared World

  Miss Fortune’s First Kiss

  Coming to the Cocky Hero Club Shared World

  Cocky Duke (May 2020)

  Find info on all of Annabelle’s Books and at www.annabelleanders.com