by Lauren Smith
“Many men have these days,” she agreed, looking at him. She knew full well that he had been trying to marry Mildred for her fortune and her reputation. The dowager countess had explained that clearly when they’d reconnected over tea at the WSPU meeting. She’d been shocked to learn Leo was so desperate as to abandon his heart in a quest for stability.
“No man should have to marry simply to keep the estate. Even I made the mistake when I was planning to propose to Mildred. I thought it was the right thing to do, but now I see what a mistake it was. I only hope Owen can find a way to happiness like I have.”
“I did like him, compromising intentions aside.” Ivy sighed. He’d been a bit of a bounder but he’d been amusing, too. “I do hope you’re right that he will be as lucky as we are.” It had always been her nature to forgive and while Owen’s kiss had frightened her, she was not as angry as she’d been earlier. It was the way of the Romani, to forgive and forget.
When they reached the door to the lodge, they shared a gaze. Leo grinned like a boy and Ivy’s own mouth curved upward. She wanted so desperately for him to want her and for this to really be happening, but after losing her mother, she dared not hope.
“Leo, do you really want to marry me?” She couldn’t look away even as her cheeks heated. “We’re practically strangers. It has been sixteen years since we’ve last seen each other.”
“Have you so little faith in a man’s heart?” He studied her. “Or is it that you think we will not suit?” The corner of his mouth kicked up in a rakish expression that promised utter wickedness. He lifted her hands to his mouth, pressing little kisses on her knuckles.
“I used to be wild and free once…when I knew you. Teach me to be that man again, Ivy. When my father died, I lost myself to my worries and fears of becoming just like him. I don’t ever want to lose the man I am because my worries grow too big.”
He leaned down and kissed her. Her eyes fell shut, and in that moment, she was living the dream she’d always wanted in the most secret part of her heart. She could be a free, independent woman and still have love. His lips urged hers to part and they shared a breath before he deepened the kiss. Lost in him, she found herself, the girl she had been before her mother died. Leaving Leo and his world behind had left her empty in a way she’d been too afraid to admit until now, when true joy was finally within reach. What was there to living a life only in halves? Nothing. With Leo and Hampton, she would be whole.
“I think,” Leo murmured against her lips as they broke apart, “that marrying a suffragette is just what I need.”
She stood up on tiptoe and kissed him, quick and hard, unable to stop the flood of hunger she had for him in that moment. He truly was the most wonderful man she’d ever known.
“And being with you has always been what I wanted.” She nuzzled his cheek before meeting his gaze.
He tucked her under the chin. “Ready to meet our parents?”
“Are you?” she teased.
“Only if you hold my hand,” he replied in all seriousness.
“I promise.”
* * *
Leo entered the library where Mr. Leighton and his mother were waiting for them. Ivy’s hand was in his, and it gave him strength to face her father. He had no idea what sort of storm he was to encounter. He had scandalized the house party guests by being with Ivy in the hunting lodge. It would only be natural to have Leighton in a rage, but Leo didn’t know him well enough to guess how he would react. Leo knew how his father would have been in this situation. The old tyrant, as his mother called him, was no exaggeration. How often had he dreaded coming into the library when his father was alive? Far too often. The old earl had mastered the ability to lecture his victims for hours. But his father was gone. It was Ivy’s father he had to contend with now.
Mr. Leighton stood by the large paned window, a glass of brandy in one hand. No sign of his rifle anywhere. Relief exploded through him, and when his lungs stopped burning, he realized he hadn’t been breathing for the last few seconds. Ivy’s father turned when Leo’s mother coughed. She was perched on the edge of a rose-colored couch, clearly anticipating the coming discussion. She pursed her lips, but hope glimmered in her eyes as Leo led Ivy inside.
“Ahh, there they are. The lovebirds have finally emerged from their nest.” Mr. Leighton was smiling.
Smiling. Leo froze, sensing something was afoot.
“Oh, Leo dear, tell me it is true. You are to be married to Ivy?” His mother rose from the couch and joined them, her eyes so bright with hope that his throat constricted. Here he had been feeling irritated that she continually interfered with his life. She had only ever wanted him to be happy, and she’d known right away that Mildred wasn’t for him.
“Yes, it’s true, Mother. Your scheming bore fruit. Lucky for you.” He kissed her cheek. “I love Ivy.”
“We are glad to hear it.” She beamed like the sun in the height of summer. “I knew if you rescued Ivy from her motorcar that neither of you would be able to resist each other. To think, you chastised me for my meddling. But look how everything has turned out!” She clapped her hands together.
“Wait, what? Someone tampered with the Hudson?” Ivy demanded.
Her father joined them, looking amused. Leo glanced at Ivy and could tell she had got her back up. She was bristling like an angry cat. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
“I had the petrol tank tampered with so it would have a slow leak.” He tipped Ivy’s chin back and kissed his daughter’s cheek, still chuckling at her silent outrage.
“There was no guarantee that Leo and I would fall in love just because my motorcar broke.”
God bless her, she was a dear. “Ivy, sweetheart. If there’s one thing I know about my mother, her instincts, fortunately in our case, are never wrong.”
“So let me be clear.” Ivy jabbed her father in the chest with a finger. “You were involved with this scheme as well? I thought only Lady Hampton and I were party to this plan.” The dagger-laden glare she gave her father would have killed any other man.
“Of course. Mina couldn’t have done this all on her own.”
Leo arched a brow and shock rippled through him. Mina? Since when did Mr. Leighton and his mother exist on such familiar terms? They stood awfully close together, almost touching.
“Oh.” His mother blushed like a young girl. “That reminds me, Leo…Mr. Leighton has asked me to marry him. I’ve accepted.” She glanced away as though embarrassed. “I didn’t plan that part, you see, but we just spent so much time together, planning this and well…nature and all that.” She waved her hand in the air, dismissing any further discussion on that particular subject.
“You’re getting married?” Ivy clenched Leo’s hand tight, and he squeezed back to reassure her.
“The way I see it, lad,” Mr. Leighton said, “you are taking my daughter, and I will take your mother. A fair Romani trade.” He winked at Leo and burst out laughing.
She had wanted to live scandalously…
“Mother, if this is what makes you happy, then I am happy for you both.”
“Ivy?” His mother bit her lip, hands clasped together. “I hope that this is all right with you. I cannot replace your mother and would never want to…” She trailed off, eyes glimmering with unshed tears.
Ivy sniffled and then let go of Leo’s hand to embrace his mother fiercely.
“I always thought of you as my second mother. Mama would have wanted all of us to be happy. And now…now I think we are.”
Leo placed his hands on Ivy’s shoulders and nuzzled her cheek. He couldn’t have said it better himself.
“How will we explain this to everyone?” his mother asked, looking a tad vexed at their new social situation of her marrying Mr. Leighton and Leo marrying Ivy. It was certainly unusual.
With a crooked grin at his mother, he winked. “I believe our marriages will be the least of everyone’s concerns. The biggest scandal will be when I attend your WSPU meetings
and start a petition for women’s rights in the House of Lords. I’m liable to bring down society altogether.”
“Oh, Leo!” She swatted him, but he didn’t care. Ivy was here in his arms, in his life. He made a vow in that instant to never waste a second of life with her. He would do everything he could to give her what she wanted in life, including love and even equality in the eyes of English law. He gazed down at her, hoping she could see the love he felt bursting from inside him.
“What is it?” Ivy asked. “You have an odd expression…” She stroked a finger over his lips.
“I am finally free.” He echoed her feelings, the word she’d whispered in the wake of their passion. “With you, I will always be free.”
Ivy’s skin blossomed into a delicate red, and he couldn’t resist stealing one kiss, knowing it would never be enough. That…that was love.
This is love.
About the Author
Lauren Smith was born and raised in Tulsa. She attended Oklahoma State University, where she earned a BA in both history and political science. Drawn to paintings and museums, Lauren is obsessed with antiques and satisfies her fascination with history by writing and exploring exotic, ancient lands.
Milly has had enough of the marriage mart. If matrimony means giving up her freedom for a foppish husband, then society can take their idea of marital bliss and toss it. But when the ton’s most notorious rogue mistakenly makes his way into her bedchambers, Milly finds herself unexpectedly and unwillingly at the altar…
Please see the next page for a preview of A Gentleman Never Surrenders
Owen paced the length of his bedchamber, wearing light trousers and a dressing gown, but no shirt. His valet, Evan, had come and gone, having seen to helping him undress, putting away neckcloths, cuff links, and a hundred other minor details of Owen’s wardrobe. Normally he and Evan would converse at length on any number of topics but tonight he had one thing on his mind.
Rowena Pepperwirth.
Such a lovely young lady and perfect for his needs. Even though he hadn’t had a chance to speak with her that evening, he’d seen enough to know he’d happily bed her. He’d asked Evan tonight to discern where his future bride was sleeping. Apparently she was in the opposite wing, just past the suit of armor on the left.
Owen checked the clock on the marble mantelpiece above the fireplace in his chamber. Half-past midnight. Surely she was asleep by now. All he needed to do was slip inside her chamber and wait to be “discovered” when Evan would find a reason to have Rowena’s maid come to check on her. Stalking over to the door, he cracked it open and peered into the hall. Empty. No servants were within sight and no houseguests either.
He slipped out of his bedroom and hastily took the route Evans had described. The golden light of the hall lamps and the rich red carpet made the hall feel warm and cheery. It put him in good spirts. This plan was going to work. He paused at reaching the chain mail knight. His reflection cast off the shiny helmet was almost comical and he smiled. After tonight his future would be secured; he would have a lovely young bride and Wesden Heath would have a fortune to sustain it.
Two more steps and he was facing Rowena’s door: the woman who would become his wife, albeit through scandalous measures, but Wesden Heath needed to be protected and supported.
“You’ve got this, old boy,” he muttered in encouragement, and reached for the door handle. The latch clicked down and the door pushed inward to the darkened room.
Good. She was asleep. Padding softly into the room, he closed the door behind him. It was impossible to see except for the sliver of light cutting through the thick baize curtains draped in front of the window. Eventually his eyes adjusted to the lack of light and he made out a bed against one wall. Walking carefully over to the window, he swept a hand in between the curtains, pushing them apart. The milky moonlight now bathed the bed and its occupant enough to tease Owen with a view of a languidly stretched body with healthy curves. Bedding Rowena once they were married would be a most enjoyable experience and he would teach the innocent young lady how to seek her own pleasure, too. He would see to her happiness once they’d settled in at Wesden Heath.
Rowena shifted in the bed, sighed, and kicked one leg free of her blankets. Silky white skin made his fingers ache to stroke up from her delicate ankle to her upper thigh. Lord, the temptation to touch her, to take what he wanted was so strong, but he mastered his control. Rowena suddenly rolled restlessly in his direction and then she gasped.
“Who are you?” Her voice was a panicked whisper.
“It is me, Owen Hadley. I’ve come to—”
“Mr. Hadley?” The outrage in her tone was surprisingly forceful and her voice was deeper than he remembered, a sensual huskiness of a grown woman, rather than a young woman of eighteen.
“Rowena.” He paused, unsure of what to say, but she sat bolt upright in bed and fumbled by the wooden nightstand. A rasp of a match and then an oil lamp bloomed, casting a light on the woman in his bed.
“Good God,” he cursed.
Mildred, not Rowena, glowered at him, her long, dark chestnut hair in a luscious tangle of wild waves about her shoulders. For a moment he was utterly distracted by the thought of threading his fingers through her hair as he tilted her head back for a kiss.
“Mr. Hadley, leave my chamber at once before someone sees you.” Mildred only then seemed to realize her nightdress had ridden up her legs and she tugged it down before she slid out of bed. The fabric clung to her more than she expected it to.
“Please, Mr. Hadley.” Her plea broke through the haze of his building curiosity and desire.
Right, Mildred, must leave now…Then sanity restored itself in rapid fire and he headed for the door. The moment his hand touched the knob, he had to stumble back as it opened. A lady’s maid with a shawl about her shoulders and a lamp in one hand froze upon seeing him.
“My lady…,” the woman murmured in a hushed sound of shock. The situation was far worse than Owen could have predicted.
Lady Pepperwirth in her dressing gown and hair unbound, stood just behind the maid, her keen eyes sweeping over Owen and the scene with surprise.
“Constance said she was informed you’d taken ill, Milly dear,” Lady Pepperwirth said, but her frown said everything her words did not. “It seems it is not an illness that plagues you, but something else.”
“Mama, Mr. Hadley came here by mistake. He was just leaving—”
Lady Pepperwirth entered the room and motioned for Constance to come in as well.
“Silence, Milly. The damage is done. The four of us know what has happened tonight, but we cannot let word spread or else we will have a serious problem.” Lady Pepperwirth turned on Owen.
“You, Mr. Hadley, will ask for Milly’s hand tomorrow by speaking with my husband. I will tell him he should accept and the wedding will be done within a few weeks. If anyone asks, you two have had a secret understanding the last year and are now to be married. Is that understood?”
Owen sputtered. “I…”
“You’ll be properly compensated, Mr. Hadley. My daughter’s dowry is far larger than Rowena’s is.”
Could the viscountess read his mind?
“That is what you were concerned about, was it not?” Lady Pepperwirth’s chilly stare almost made him flinch.
Owen cleared his throat and nodded. “I will be honored to ask for Miss Pepperwirth’s hand first thing tomorrow.”
“Good. Now, I suggest we all retire for the night. Many preparations will need to be made on the morrow.” Lady Pepperwirth opened the door and nudged a still-stunned Constance out into the hallway.
For a long moment, Owen couldn’t move. His mind was blank and he just felt as though his feet were rooted to the carpet.
“What have you done?” Mildred hissed.
Her chiding tone got under his skin and he spun to face her.
“I’ve gotten us engaged, that’s what I’ve done, and we cannot get out of it.” He shoved his hands into his
robe’s pockets, fuming.
Mildred walked right up to him and jabbed a finger into his bare chest through the parted robe.
“You thought I was Rowena. It was her you meant to compromise, wasn’t it?”
He grasped her wrist, but rather than push her hand away, he held on to it, admiring the soft, warm skin beneath his hand. Her pulse raced wildly at that delicate point on her inner wrist where his fingers curled around it.
I should let go. But he didn’t. He was staring at her bright blue eyes so full of fire and those soft rosebud lips in a pout that made him want to kiss them, perhaps take a nibble…
“Hadley, are you listening to me?” She struggled to free her wrist from his hand.
“Owen. Please, call me Owen. We are to be married.” He tried to bite back a sudden smile at the entire ridiculous situation. He wasn’t sure if it was a nightmare to be married to her or not. He would have to wait and find out. There was something undeniably fascinating about riling Mildred’s temper. Even if he was condemned to marry the harpy, he could at least laugh about it.
“Fine. Owen. And if you call me Mildred again, I’ll…”
His lips twitched. “You prefer Milly, then? So do I. Thank heavens we agree on one thing at least.”
Her feminine huff of displeasure made him chuckle. Just like October and July. They were opposites. What a dreadful match they would make.
“You’ve ruined everything!” Milly snapped, but he saw the glimmer of hurt in her eyes rather than anger. Had she loved another? Was he robbing her of a man she’d intended to marry?
“Milly, did you…” He swallowed before continuing. “Did you have an understanding with another man?” Why he wanted her to say no he wasn’t sure. The thought of her weeping into a pillow over another man after she became his was not a pleasant thought, not that he wanted her. He didn’t. He wanted Rowena.
Milly sighed, a little tear dripping down her right cheek as she pulled her wrist free of his grasp. She walked around him to her bed and sat on the edge, tucking her knees up under her chin like a child.