Biker Romance: Never Desire an Exile (Exile Love Biker MC Series Book Book 2)

by Kara Summers

  “Martin, will you tell Will that I need him to saddle Gwennie to the wagon. We are going for a ride,” he instructed Martin after he was shaved and dressed.

  “Yes, sir,” Martin said obediently. “At what hour?”

  “I shall first partake of your sister’s cooking. I find that I will need to be nourished for my endeavor.”

  “Sir, is everything all right?” Martin had inherited his father’s caution and although he didn’t know what his master intended, he was aware, from his expression, that the Duke was set on an adventure of some sort.

  “Quite all right, Martin.”

  After another of Bess’ excellent meals, Laverly got into the wagon. Will took the reins; Gwennie was a placid horse with a good mouth and an easy manner. Laverly had ridden her around the grounds but not beyond the boundaries of the estate. He was not sure enough of the route to the Dart cottage to venture on his errand alone, but he trusted Will’s discretion.

  “We are heading to Miss Dart’s cottage,” he told Will. “I have unfinished business with her. You will leave me there, and return in half an hour.”

  “Yes, sir,” Will said.

  “You may visit your family during that time, or---are you courting anyone, Will?

  Will confessed, bashfully, that he had begun walking out with Lizzie Cantwell, the middle daughter of the Cantwell brood.

  “Excellent, I’m glad to hear it. Love is most invigorating. Do you plan to wed?”

  Will said that was his wish, but it was early days yet and he hadn’t asked her father for her hand.

  “Her father. Yes, of course. You must follow the rules. If you wed her, you can move into one of the bigger cottages on the estate. I hope that you will stay in my employ; you are a valued member of the staff,” Dennison said.

  Wil confessed that it was his wish to do so and to continue to help Laverly build up his stables. “Word is, sir, that you’re likely to marry in the coming year yourself. They do say that you were much admired at the squire’s dance.”

  “I do intend to marry,” Laverly said. “My bride is not exactly a horsewoman, but she must have the very best that the stables can afford. She must have the best of everything.”

  “Yes, sir,” Will agreed, wondering why, if the Duke planned to marry well, he was heading to the Dart cottage. The ways of the gentry were more than he could understand, but the offer of a bigger cottage on the estate would be an added inducement when he approached Mr. Cantwell for his daughter’s hand in marriage.

  They arrived at the Dart cottage and Laverly stepped down. ”A half hour, Will. It should take no longer than that.”

  “I’ll be back on time, sir.”

  Laverly knocked on the cottage door. He was greeted by the scent of lavender as the door opened.

  “My lord!” Bella exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to see your father. Is he about?”

  “Yes, he is within. Why do you need to see him?” she asked with curiosity.

  “Bella, have we guests?”

  “It’s Lord Laverly, Father, he’s come to see you.”

  “Has he indeed?”

  Laverly heard Larkin Dart chuckle. “My lord, welcome. Will you join me for a taste of Bella’s excellent butter cake?”

  “I would be pleased to do so, sir, but I have business with you that must be attended to first,” Laverly said.

  “I see. Bella, will you leave us?”

  “Why on earth should I leave you two? What business can you possibly have?” she asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

  “Bella, will you show your father such disrespect?” Laverly inquired.

  “I do not disrespect my father,” she challenged firmly.

  “Excellent. Then be a dutiful daughter and leave us to our business.”

  The silence revealed that Bella was not convinced of his reasoning.

  “Bella, my dear,” said her father. “Please do as Lord Laverly requests.”

  “I shall leave,” Bella said, plainly irked by the mystery. “But I shall return soon.”

  Laverly heard her putting on her winter cloak. “Please return in fifteen minutes,” he told her.

  She did not answer, but the slamming of the door gave her response.

  Once he was sure Bella was out of earshot, Dennison got down to business. “Mr. Dart, I have come to ask for your permission to marry your daughter.”

  “I thought that might be it,” Dart replied.

  “You knew?”

  “Please to be seated, my lord. Such matters are best discussed sitting down,” Larkin said.

  “How did you know?”

  “As you have learned, to be blind is not to be insensate. I knew from my daughter.”

  “Has she indicated an affection for me?” Lavelry asked eagerly.

  “No,” Dart replied, “but she has been disconsolate since she broke off the lessons with you. I knew that she previously had been in excellent spirits when she returned from the Hall, until the day when she came home and insisted that she was afflicted with an ague and was not crying. She has had that ‘cold’ for days, and Bella is always in superb health.”

  “I see,” Laverly said with renewed hope. “Do I have your permission then?”

  “You have my permission, but it is Bella who must be convinced. She is a proud young woman and she will not marry a Duke only to be held in contempt because she is not of your station.”

  “Sir, if we marry, she will be a Duchess and she will bear my children. Can I offer any greater indication of my regard for her and her worthiness?”

  “Do you love her?” her father asked.

  “I cannot live without her,” Dennison said in response.

  “She is obstinate, she is not biddable, and she is independent. She will challenge you. You must not expect a wife who intends to pay heed to the marital vow which holds her to obedience; she is not an obedient woman,” Larkin said, to push the point that Dennison must be sure of his intention.

  “She is what I need, sir, and I believe that I am what she needs.”

  “Yes,” Dart considered. “I believe you are correct.”

  When Bella returned, Dart had donned his winter coat and expressed the intention of stepping out for air. He had closed the door behind him before his daughter could remonstrate with him.

  “Bella,” Laverly said. “Will you sit down?”

  He had turned one of the chairs so that it faced outward from the table. He heard her sit down. When she did so, he lowered himself to one knee. “Bella, I have asked your father for his permission and now I ask for your consent. Will you be my wife?”

  “Your wife? Are you drunk or mad?” she asked, surprise in her voice.

  “That’s a fine response to a marriage proposal,” he said indignantly.

  “Get up. You look absurd on bended knee like some lovesick swain. You are stepping on my dress and will tear it,”

  “You neglected to teach me how to properly comport myself when proposing marriage; it is entirely your fault if I disappoint you. Do I disappoint you, Bella?”

  “No,” she said, her voice obscured by what sounded like tears.

  “Bella, are you crying?” he asked tenderly.

  “I have a cold.”

  “That cold is lasting too long. You should summon Dr. Keating for medicine.”

  “It will end in good time,” she responded.

  “You have not answered me.”

  “I cannot marry you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because,” she said simply.

  “That is insufficient.”

  “I do not need to give a reason.”

  “Shall I give one then?” He gave her no chance to answer. ”You are afraid to accept my proposal because you fear that you will not receive the respect from the gentry who may consider their breeding to be higher than yours. You fear that you will be shunned because the schoolmaster’s daughter will be the Duchess of Laverly. You fear that you will have to
learn new ways and you are accustomed to being the one who teaches. In short, my dear, beautiful, beloved Bella, you are a coward.”

  “I’m not afraid of anything!” she cried indignantly.

  “Are you afraid of loving me?” he asked softly.

  “And I’m not beautiful. You can’t see, you have no idea whether I am ill-favored or fair,” she ignored his question.

  Laverly took her hands in his. “Tell me then,” he said. ”Tell me what I would be looking at if I could see you with my eyes.”

  She sniffed, and a handkerchief brushed against his cheek as she pulled it from her sleeve.

  “I am too short for you. We should look ridiculous.”

  “As long as we can reach to kiss one another, our height is perfect.”

  “My hair is not fashionable; I do not have ringlets.”

  “Then I shall not muss it when I kiss you,” he countered.

  “My nose is not demure.”

  “Is it overlarge?” he asked with amusement.

  “No!” she replied, insulted by his query.

  He gave in to his laughter. “I would not care if it were. But our children might.”

  “Children!”

  “It’s commonly believed that the purpose of marriage is for the begetting of children,” he stated simply.

  “Yes,” she said faintly.

  “I shall look forward to the begetting of children with my diminutive, unfashionably coiffed, undemure-nosed Duchess.”

  He stood up. “It is at this time that a man who has proposed marriage may expect that his intended will receive his affections with pleasure.”

  Laverly bent his head. Her lips were very soft and warm and when he wrapped his arms around her, she followed his example with an embrace that told him that, although she could not give voice to her feelings, her passion was quickened. They were still locked in the same kiss when the door opened to admit Larkin Dart.

  “I take it, Bella, that I am to welcome His Lordship into the family as a son-in-law?”

  “You are,” Bella said, her voice muffled.

  “Might I ask when the marriage is to take place?”

  “If the banns are read at Christmas,” Laverly said, “we can be wed in the early new year. I have no wish to wait.”

  “But are you sure? You were among your own kind,” Bella said, sounding troubled, the excitement of his kiss banished by the reality of what marriage meant. “Why should you leave?”

  “I learned something at the dance. The prattling girls, the invitation to gamble, the meaningless talk about the battle. I found that I am not the one who is blind. You taught me to see, darling Bella, and having viewed the world as it is, I cannot return to a society that lives in a masquerade. I love you. Do you love me?”

  Bella flung her arms around him. “I knew I loved you the day I left Laverly Hall for the last time. I have been so wretched without you.”

  “You shall return to Laverly Hall as its mistress. And as my beloved Bella.” He returned her embrace with eagerness.

  Bella’s father coughed gently. “Your manservant is outside, waiting for you.”

  “Will! Yes, of course; I told him to return in half an hour.”

  “Were you so sure of me?” Bella demanded.

  “Not at all. I intended to abduct you and ride to Gretna Green if you refused me. I merely needed to obtain your father’s willingness to accompany us.”

  He kissed her tenderly. She would be his Duchess, the woman who had returned his sight to him. Blindness, he realized, was admittedly a physical condition. But sight was a choice as well, and Bella had offered him the choice to see for the first time, love.

  THE END

  Return to the TOC for Bonus Content

  TWO EXCLUSIVE ROMANCE STORIES

  The Cursed Highlander’s Child

  Prologue

  Laird Bhradain Drummond could feel the transformation begin to take over and slowly consume him. If it continued to build, his clan would have no choice but to kill him — if they could catch him. The transformation would turn him into a mindless, bloodthirsty beast.

  They all hoped that it wouldn't come to that, that the curse would be lifted before Bhradain's thirtieth birthday. However, that hope was dwindling as the fateful day drew closer and the witch from the prophecy failed to appear and deliver him from his beastly fate.

  Bhradain desperately hoped for salvation, but the bitterness of his fate began to consume him as time continued to run out. Nevertheless, he continued his nightly pilgrimage to the hidden silver lake outside of his family's estate, waiting and watching for the one woman that would be able to free him from his hellish fate.

  Chapter: I

  "Eva, can you pretty please play a game with us!" pleaded six-year-old Jamie, her youngest cousin.

  "Not tonight, I have a big project for work that my boss needs tomorrow," Eva tried to explain. She was already stressed to the max with all the recent demands being placed on her. It wasn't easy trying to get noticed at a big publishing firm when she spent most of her time running menial errands, and Eva was starting to feel like a small fish in a very big sea. Eva didn't like the idea of admitting that maybe her job just wasn't working out, but at the moment, her financial prospects were the biggest incentive for getting her butt out of bed every morning.

  "Pleeeeeeease," chimed in Maggie, Jamie's older sister by two years. The little girl furrowed her brow and wrinkled her nose as if she was about to cry.

  Jamie took a look at Maggie's devastated expression and quickly followed suit with his own take on the puppy-dog look.

  Eva chuckled before throwing her hands up in the air in an expression of surrender. "You guys are good, you know that?" she teased.

  "Hurray!" Both Maggie and Jamie jumped up in excitement.

  Eva quickly closed the book she had been working on and brushed a thick tendril of black hair behind her ear, before turning her full attention back toward her little cousins. "So what game did you have in mind?" she asked them.

  "I want to play hide-n-seek," demanded the impetuous Maggie.

  "No!" cried Jamie. "Manhunt, I want to play manhunt," he said with a decisiveness that was uncanny for a six-year-old.

  Eva couldn't help but laugh at their exchange. She had been more like a big sister to her little cousins ever since her Aunt Marie and Uncle Mark had graciously taken her in when she was struggling to make ends meet. She adored little Jamie and Maggie, but she had already begun to suspect that they were more than a little spoiled.

  "How about we play both?" she offered in an attempt to placate the two. "Which one do you want to —" she began.

  "Manhunt!" Jamie interrupted enthusiastically. He turned to look at his sister; a disapproving scowl was already forming on Maggie's face. "Please," he added to both his sister and his cousin.

  "Oh okay," Maggie gave in. It didn't take much for her to indulge her baby brother.

  "Yippy!" cried Jamie. "You are it!" he tagged Eva abruptly with his hand before he turned on his heel and darted down the hall and out of the room.

  Maggie gave an impatient sigh and a rather precocious eye-roll, before she too took off after her little brother.

  Eva was left alone in the room before she had time to fully process what she had just gotten herself into.

  She waited a few moments, allowing the children time to disperse off in the large house before she made her way down the dark hallway. She didn't have a lot of energy after a grueling day at work to run after them, but she didn't think she would have much trouble catching a six and eight-year-old. However, they were a lot more familiar with the old Tudor-style house than she was, as she had only been living there for a few months, which gave the children a decisive advantage in their attempts to evade being tagged "It."

  As Eva began moving throughout the rooms in search of her cousins, she couldn't help but feel a little unsettled by the eerie quietness that descended upon the house; it was almost too quiet. She thought for sure she would hear th
e sound of the children running down the hallways, or giggling and giving themselves away. Instead, the only sound came from her own beating heart as it echoed loudly in her ears.

  "Jamie? Maggie?" she called out, hoping that they might throw her a bone and respond. "Can I get a hint?" she asked. Eva wasn't the type of girl to be unsettled easily, but whenever she was alone, she sometimes had the feeling that she was being watched. Although she knew that her young cousins and aunt and uncle were somewhere on the property, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease. Eva wasn't necessarily a superstitious person, but this house had the ability to make her doubt that she was seeing the world with crystal clarity.

  Eva's thoughts were interrupted when she heard a loud crash coming from a room upstairs. "Gotcha," she muttered under her breath. The distraction was welcomed, as it momentarily diverted her attention from the strange direction her thoughts had shifted.

  She headed toward the stairs and made her way up as quickly as she could. When she reached the top, she found herself facing several different doors. She wasn't sure which one the crashing sound came out of. She moved toward the first, but before she turned the handle, she heard what sounded like a guttural moan emit from behind the door.

  Eva paused, unsure if she should proceed. The sound was definitely not something that the children would be capable of making. Likewise her aunt and uncle were in the study on the main floor, which was quite far from where she was.