20150618 A Midsummer Night's Kiss epub final

by And Then the Moon) (epub)

  Not that she cared overly much. She was content to hold hands with her husband and walk through the gardens. They passed a few people with murmured greetings and tried not to look too guilty. Though her brilliant, satisfied grin might have given her away.

  “I probably shouldn’t mention this,” Stephen said. “But I’ve not seen a Catocala Fraxini.”

  Jane laughed, remembering their wager. “Well, I wasn’t entirely serious. Though…” she added “a few more nights like this one might make up for all the money you owe me.”

  “Just a few?” he murmured, sounding disappointed.

  She tried to stifle a giggle when she caught his quick grin.

  Eventually they made their way back toward the balcony, and Jane noticed a few people had just gathered by the beech tree to make wishes. A young woman leaned forward and cupped her hands against the trunk to keep her whispered words a secret.

  Stephen followed Jane’s gaze. “I made a wish last year,” he said. “Did you?”

  She leaned into his side. “I did. What did you wish for?”

  “I wished for you.”

  She stopped walking. “You did?”

  “I felt silly,” he admitted with a wry smile. “Very unscientific, if you will. But something made me do it anyway, and I think…I think some wishes do come true.”

  Yes, she thought, as she looked at him and remembered her own wish for happiness.

  They certainly did.

  Acknowledgment

  Thank you to my fellow authors Stacy Reid, Ally Broadfield, and Nicola Davidson, for being both wonderful writers and wonderful ladies. Another huge thanks goes to Stacy for being our fearless leader in this endeavor—this anthology wouldn’t be possible without you!

  About Lily

  Lily Maxton grew up in the Midwest, reading, writing, and daydreaming amidst cornfields. After graduating with a degree in English, she decided to put her natural inclinations to good use and embark on a career as a writer. When she’s not working on a new story, she likes to tour old houses, add to her tea stash, and think of reasons to avoid housework.

  Connect with Lily: Website, Facebook, and Twitter

  Other books by Lily Maxton

  Sisters of Scandal series book one

  The Affair

  She was his for one week only…

  When a beautiful stranger ducks into his bookshop during a rainstorm, Cale Cameron, well-known rake, is instantly attracted to her. Elizabeth, Lady Thornhill, is restless and hungers for something she cannot name. Society would never accept a countess and a mere bookseller, so they agree to a one week affair to indulge their desire.

  As their passion ignites and their connection grows, Elizabeth threatens the one thing Cale has protected above all else – his heart. Letting her go is the only solution… and the one thing he is not prepared to do.

  Sisters of Scandal series book two

  The Wager

  London, 1818

  Anne Middleton never plays by the rules. She is willful when she should be obedient and unabashed when she should be decorous. Worse still, she can never resist a good wager… or a very naughty book. And Confessions of a Courtesan is about as sensational and risque as a book can be.

  Michael Grey – Earl of Thornhill – had once courted Anne’s sweet and modest sister. But whilst Anne is certainly no lady of decorum, her bold impulsiveness slips through his armor, and propriety is forgotten. Now he too is immersed in the book of forbidden delights, where each page is an invitation to sin and a guide to pleasures unknown…

  Roused by heady desire, Michael tempts Anne in a way she cannot resist – a wager. Thus begins a game of chance, where coins have been replaced by a currency that is far more illicit. And the stakes of seduction are dangerous indeed…

  Sisters of Scandal series book three

  The Love Match

  Hampshire, 1818

  To her family, Olivia Middleton is a problem of the most vexing sort. With her older two sisters married off, Olivia is now the target of her mother’s matrimonial scheming. Shy and somewhat plain, Olivia prefers the thrill of a gothic novel to the hunt for a husband. And as far as her family is concerned, something must be done. But Olivia has no interest in the men paraded before her-except, perhaps, the sought-after bachelor William Cross. But she’s not about to inflate his already oversized ego by telling him so.

  William has sworn never to wed, but that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy women. What he excels at most is flirtation… unless the woman in question is Olivia Middleton. She barely bats an eyelash at his most creative compliments. She laughs at his attempts to flatter her when other ladies would swoon. William is reluctantly intrigued by Olivia, particularly when he discovers the passion simmering beneath her wallflower facade. A passion that should be to his benefit…

  Because he’s determined to impress her, by fair means or foul…

  Sisters of Scandal series book four

  The Mistake

  Childhood love never disappears…

  Infamous courtesan Julia Forsythe is the former mistress of a ruthless marquess. She’s also expecting his child. But while she longs to flee from his cold clutches, the welfare of her unborn babe prevents it. Now she must find a way to remain a “mistress” in name, if not in deed. And her plans are only complicated by a growing affection for the estate’s head gardener…

  Fifteen years ago, Adam Radcliff once shared a close friendship with Julia. Now they stand worlds apart in both lives and statuses, sharing only the memory of that old friendship. But even as Julia slips out of the marquess’s lascivious clutches, she finds herself seeking the pleasure of Adam’s company. Now Adam is falling more deeply for Julia, even knowing that wanting another man’s mistress will only bring ruin upon them both…

  Once Upon a Promise

  Long abandoned by her aristocratic soldier husband, Emma Montclair craves a formal separation. To forget the man who pulled her into his glittering, stifling world, introduced her to sizzling passion, then broke her heart.

  Home at last, Major Caleb Montclair offers the wife he never stopped loving a counter-bargain: Grant him the six weeks until Midsummer night to win her back. But even as old tenderness rekindles, lost time and shocking secrets threaten their second chance…

  Copyright © 2015 by

  Nicola Davidson

  For some amazing women:

  Sherilee Gray, the world’s best CP and friend.

  My mother, Annette, who answered many a food parcel SOS.

  And

  Stacy, Lily and Ally – this was so much fun!

  Chapter One

  London, May 1815

  Five words.

  Just five words stood between herself and happiness, and she still didn’t have the courage to write them.

  Hand shaking, Emma Montclair dipped her pen into the silver pot of jet-black ink and brought it back to the crisp cream paper, to begin the necessary letter she’d been putting off for months.

  I heartily desire

  Too flowery.

  I respectfully request

  Too weak.

  “Oh, please,” she scolded herself out loud as the pen faltered again. “They’re just words. The sky will not fall. The ground will not split open. In actual fact, everyone will be most relieved, so write, damn you.”

  Her fingers flexed, then gripped the pen hard, the scratching sound of writing on paper like a sword unsheathing in the silence of the lavishly appointed bedchamber.

  Caleb, I want a separation.

  There was the answer to all her problems. And it wouldn’t be such a terrible scandal, barren wives often retired to the country. Nor would anyone raise an eyebrow if her husband took a permanent mistress; all of London knew the sinfully handsome and dashing Major Caleb Montclair had wed far, far below himself when he insisted on marrying
the daughter of his father’s secretary. For heaven’s sake, he was the beloved eldest son of society leaders Lord and Lady Hugh Montclair, nephew of the Marquess of Hadleigh and godson to the all-conquering Duke of Wellington.

  Despite the warmth of the late spring morning, Emma shivered and rubbed her arms, an all-too-familiar reaction to thoughts of the glossy, rigid world she didn’t belong in and felt trapped and hounded by. Caleb was born, raised and entirely at ease in the ton. She merely lurched from one faux pas to the next, never knowing the right fashion plate to view, on-dit to hear or fan to use.

  Indeed, it would be far better for everyone if their stop-start six year union became a different arrangement. He could then march the globe with the British Army until his hair turned gray. And she, well, she would have freedom.

  Her dreams were simple: A pretty cottage leased from her dear widower friend Donald. Charity work, not balls. A small garden to personally tend again. Taking tea with women because they were kind and amusing and smart, not because of a suitable rank.

  No more would she roam the lavishly perfect Montclair townhouse like a lost soul, lonely and isolated from the busy, fulfilling life she’d once known. No more living under the thumb of a mother-in-law who spoke only to criticize. No more waking from vivid dreams of someone who was not there…

  A sob caught in her throat.

  When Caleb first joined the army, temporary leave certificates were generous, but over time her husband’s visits home dwindled considerably. After the summer of 1812 they stopped altogether, and she had to make do with brief, polite letters. At least he still wrote, the missives arriving infrequently but continuously from the brutal battlefields of Spain and France, then the shadowed corridors of power in Vienna, and lately, with his godfather Wellington in Brussels.

  It was three years since she had seen him, and finally, thankfully, the memories of his touch were fading. Never again would a man possess her body and soul so completely, that a mere glance or light caress hurled her into a raging storm of fevered need. Nor would there be any more scandalous daytime trysts in secluded alcoves or the lush, private meadows of the Montclair country estate in their quest for a baby.

  Three whole years.

  If that wasn’t the act of a man who had fallen completely out of love with his wife, who profoundly regretted his impulsive, whirlwind marriage when they had been a pair of foolish twenty year olds, it was hard to imagine what was.

  “So write the wretched letter,” she muttered, swallowing hard. “Send it. And let it be done.”

  “Em! Emma!”

  Uttering an unladylike curse under her breath at the familiar shout, Emma snatched up the piece of paper, shoved it into a desk drawer and banged it closed, just as her bedchamber door shook with a flurry of heavy knocks.

  “Emma Georgiana Montclair. Are you in there? Speak now, or forever grow carbuncles on your backside.”

  Her lips twitched. “Come in, Lucy!”

  The door burst open and her sister-in-law sailed into the room. Eighteen years old, a sapphire-eyed, ebony-haired beauty, Lucinda Montclair was the beloved sibling she’d never had and the person she would miss beyond all once she was no longer living here with the family.

  “I cannot believe you are sitting up here so calmly, Emma. How can you be so serene? I feel like…like I’m going to fly around the room. Or my belly is going to split open and release a thousand butterflies into the air.”

  “Then you really must cease pilfering your father’s brandy.”

  Lucy widened her eyes. “Moi? Those days are quite behind me. Well, suspended at least since Father caught me topping up his decanter with water and blathered for a full hour. But that is by the by. Why aren’t you dancing? I thought you would be just as excited as I am.”

  “Excited about what? Have you received a particularly coveted invitation? An offer of marriage?”

  “No, silly,” said Lucy, perching on a low chaise then immediately springing back to her feet. “The wonderful news! Richard is coming home from Brussels.”

  Emma grinned. “Not a certain Captain Sir Richard Freeman, the man you’ve been besotted with since, oh about age twelve?”

  “I’d say closer to eight. But yes, that very Richard.”

  “And he’s finally, finally admitted to returning your ardent admiration tenfold, and we’ll shortly be celebrating a betrothal?”

  “Pah,” muttered Lucy, shoulders slumping, and Emma’s heart ached for her. She knew that look.

  “Oh dear.”

  “I know deep down Richard is madly in love with me. He just doesn’t know how to show it. Or say it. But this time he shall be home for a while at least. Convalescing.”

  “He’s hurt?”

  “Cal’s note said a minor leg wound from a skirmish with some French mercenaries. And fortunately I shall be right here to nurse him back to full health,” her sister-in-law finished with the determined look so typical of a Montclair.

  A strange twist of disappointment gouged Emma’s insides. “Caleb wrote to you? There was no, ah, message for me?”

  Lucy frowned. “Why would he…?”

  “Well—”

  “…when he’s coming home also? You shall be talking face to face by tomorrow evening. And I wager a whole lot more, if the past is anything to go…Em? Are you all right? You’ve gone frightfully pale.”

  Black dots danced before her eyes and she swayed, overcome with the promise of a different future.

  Caleb was on his way home for a visit!

  Tomorrow she could calmly and clearly outline all the reasons their marriage must change, gain his permission to leave London for good.

  Tomorrow she might regain some peace. Happiness.

  Finally.

  “How much longer do you think, Cal?”

  Major Caleb Montclair smiled grimly at Captain Sir Richard Freeman, and firmly suppressed the words ‘not long enough’. To him, the luxurious, well-sprung carriage hurtled toward London like a comet. To the pale, perspiring, seriously-injured man opposite, it probably felt like a square-wheeled cart drawn by elderly goats with an uncanny eye for ruts and rocks.

  “Not long, old man. An hour or so and you’ll be tucked up in cool linen, barking orders at London’s best physicians while a dozen beauties fight to nurse you back to full health.”

  “You should have told them the truth in your letter.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And have everyone fret for weeks, able to do nothing? I think not.”

  “They’ll be expecting a few scratches, a slight limp for a while. The fact is, I can’t walk. I’ll be in a damned wheeled chair the rest of my life.”

  Caleb gritted his teeth as agony clawed through him. Just as he had failed as a brother and husband, he had failed Richard, his second in command and oldest friend. All the bloody dispatches to England, all the idiot speeches raving about the heroic Major Montclair’s skill and bravery in saving the lives of ten men after the company was set upon by French mercenaries during an early morning exploratory mission. Utterly false.

  He had been lucky, then so damned cocky and foolish after cutting a swathe through the blue jackets, thinking the danger over. But one man remained hidden in the trees, and Richard paid the price of two bullets to the thigh.

  “No,” Caleb bit out. “You’ll walk again. Decent food, good doctoring, plenty of rest and you’ll be waltzing ‘til dawn in no time.”

  A ghost of a smile touched Richard’s lips.

  “You could always waltz in my stead.”

  Caleb instantly recoiled as chills iced his spine, the kind that crept up and mercilessly shredded any hard-won partial peace. One long-ago day, one shocking event tore two brothers apart, and no matter what he did to atone for his terrible mistake, the wound had never healed.

  It would be a cold day in hell before he set foot on a dance floor.
<
br />   “Good God no.”

  “It’s downright unnatural, not to mention unpatriotic that you’ve never waltzed with your wife. I think you owe her a few sets at least, for three years absent.”

  Caleb turned away, utterly unwilling to discuss either taboo topics of dancing, or the woman he had married in haste, loved at leisure and abandoned.

  Sweet, beautiful Emma.

  The first time he saw her, when she burst through a door to deliver some papers to her father, pelisse flapping, bonnet askew, red curls bouncing around her perfect oval face and emerald-green eyes brimming with laughter, it was done. Nothing else mattered, not her social status, his mother’s stinging objections, or an impending military career.

  One month later they were man and wife. And that had been the beginning of the end.

  “I fail to see how crushing Emma’s feet, tearing a hem and swinging her into a Grecian urn would make up for anything. Jewelry might, perhaps if I purchased every bauble in the country. But then there is Goose to think of as well. She’s been out long enough, it is past time the impertinent baggage was married. Quite frankly, I’m stunned Father hasn’t attended to the matter already.”

  Richard snorted. “Tame that tempest? Ha. Lord Hugh is smart enough to know and accept that little Lucy will marry when she’s ready and not a moment before. Your brother, also.”

  Fierce emotions roiling his gut, Caleb kept staring out the carriage window as they bounced over uneven cobbled streets, their driver expertly weaving between cargo-heavy carts and shiny curricles slowing to enjoy the mid-afternoon sunshine. Nothing would please him more than Adam finding happiness. But his younger brother was hell-bent on a path of self-destruction, his deadened eyes and unhealed scars keeping all but a few hardy souls well away.