Wedding of the Season
Page 28
“Like hell you will!”
He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want me to take care of you and our children?”
“Not by living in Stafford St. Mary, I don’t! Not now, not when you’re about to find Tut. We’re going to Egypt, Will. I want to go. I want that trip on the Orient Express, and I want to see Constantinople, and I want to excavate that tomb with you. If Tut’s in there, all well and good. And if he’s not—”
“And if not?”
She looked into his brilliant green eyes, and though she didn’t know how it was possible, she loved him more now than she ever had before. “It’s a sealed royal tomb, isn’t it? Some Egyptian king’s in there, and whoever he is, he’s bound to be worth digging up. I’ll sketch all the artifacts and you’ll write the articles and books about him, and Marlowe will print it all in his newspapers, and you’ll be that famous archaeologist who found all these wonderful Egyptian treasures.”
“No. I don’t want to be famous. I just want you. While I was waiting to board the train, I did a lot of thinking. I knew I’d have to come back next year and try to persuade you again, but then I thought about going back to my life in Egypt without you, and I realized that nothing I do anywhere on this earth matters to me now, not if I can’t share it with you.” He grabbed her hands. “I’ve loved you all my life, Beatrix Elizabeth Anne, and I want to marry you. Right here in Stafford St. Mary, with you in a beautiful white dress with a long train, and all our family and friends there, and a big wedding breakfast afterward. It’ll be the wedding of the season, just what you always wanted.”
“That doesn’t matter to me, Will. Not anymore.”
“It matters to me. And we’re going to have at least two boys and two girls. And our oldest son will just have to accept the fact that he’s the duke, and he’ll have to live up to his responsibilities at home, and that’s all there is to it.”
“But what if he wants to go to Egypt instead?”
“He can, but he’d better come home. And our girls will be allowed to swing high on the swings, as high as they want, and go to Florence and paint.”
She heard the church clock strike the quarter hour, and she knew they had to be going. “This is all lovely, Will, and I appreciate it. I do, and maybe we can go to Florence one day, but we can talk about all of that later. We have to be on our way.”
“And,” he went on as if he hadn’t even heard a word she was saying, “maybe one day you’ll let me take you to Egypt, and I’ll show you what the desert is like at sunset. And we’ll stand on the deck of a dahabiyeh boat on the Nile—”
“Will,” she interrupted impatiently, “I don’t want to stand here and talk about going to Egypt. I want to do it. We have to get moving or we’ll miss the next train.”
“Next train? Beatrix, we already missed the train, and there is no next one, not today.”
“Oh yes, there is, and we’re going to catch it.” She let go of one of his hands and tightened her grip on the other, pulling him. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?” He frowned, unmoving, clearly not sharing her sense of urgency. “Trix, we missed the train,” he repeated, as if she hadn’t already seen that for herself. “It’s gone.”
“I know, Will, but we’ll catch up with it at Exeter.”
“We can’t. A carriage isn’t fast enough—”
“We don’t need a carriage.” She pulled again, and this time, he allowed himself to be dragged around the end of the tiny train station so that he could see the Daimler, ignoring the fact that half the village of Stafford St. Mary seemed to be coming down the road toward them. “We have a motorcar.”
He looked at the Daimler and back at her. “The Daimler will get us to Exeter in time to make the train to Dover,” he said, enlightened at last.
“Exactly! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. And also that I love you. And that I truly, honestly don’t care where we live, because wherever we can be together is where I want to be.” She squeezed his hand and took a deep breath. “From now on, everything we do, we do together. Off the cliff and all the way down. Together.”
“All right. Together. Off the cliff and all the way down. But when this Egypt business is finished, we’re going to Florence, and then we’ll come back here for summer.”
“Pixy Cove in August?”
“Pixy Cove in August. And we ought to be able to roast a few chestnuts before going back to Egypt, and once we have children, I think we should spend Christmas here in Stafford St. Mary.” He pulled his hands out of hers and cupped her face. “I love you, Trix.”
“And I love you, Wi-ill.”
She watched him smile that heart-bruising smile, but this time it didn’t hurt to see it. Instead, it filled her heart with joy.
“Hell’s bells!” he said suddenly. “I’ve got to get my things and tell Aman our plans. He’ll have to follow us to Thebes and bring whatever I can’t carry with me.”
She glanced uneasily at the curious, approaching villagers. “We have to hurry or we’ll have half the village here gaping at us.”
“Right.” He dashed back toward the platform while she gathered her suitcases and hatbox and returned them to the boot of the Daimler. When Will joined her, he brought one large valise, one smaller one, and his dispatch case. He placed them beside hers and tied down all the luggage as she walked around to the front of the motorcar and cranked the engine. A few minutes later they were racing away, leaving the curious, approaching crowd in a cloud of dust.
“Well, you have to marry me now,” he told her, raising his voice to be heard over the noise of the engine as he settled his long legs as comfortably as he could in the limited space. “Your reputation’s thoroughly ruined, I fear. Elopement is one adventure we haven’t tried yet.”
She laughed, tilting her head back, relishing the feel of the wind on her face. “Will, my darling, with you, every day of our lives is an adventure.”
About the Author
LAURA LEE GUHRKE spent seven years in advertising, had a successful catering business, and managed a construction company before she decided writing novels was more fun. The New York Times bestselling author of fourteen historical romances, Laura has received many literary awards, including romance fiction’s highest honor, the RITA® Award, and her books routinely appear on the USA Today Bestseller list. When she’s not tapping away at her keyboard, Laura spends her time relearning how to ski, mastering the wakeboard grab, and trying to actually hit a golf ball, much to the amusement of her friends. She loves hearing from readers, and you may write to her by visiting her website, www.lauraleeguhrke.com.
By Laura Lee Guhrke
Wedding of the Season
With Seduction in Mind
Secret Desires of a Gentleman
The Wicked Ways of a Duke
And Then He Kissed Her
She’s No Princess
The Marriage Bed
His Every Kiss
Guilty Pleasures
Coming February 2011
Scandal of the Year
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
WEDDING OF THE SEASON. Copyright © 2011 by Laura Lee Guhrke. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition January 2011 ISBN: 9780062036711
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