A Summons From Yorkshire (Regency Christmas Summons Collection 1)

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A Summons From Yorkshire (Regency Christmas Summons Collection 1) Page 10

by Johnstone, Julie


  She gnawed her lower lip, drawing his gaze there and making him long for a taste. He forced himself to look into her misty eyes. “Marry me, Harriet. Please say you will.”

  “I will. Yes. I will!” She threw her arms around his neck, and he finally took the kiss he craved. He held his lips to hers, breathing in her sweet pea essence.

  In the back of his mind, he registered silence in the room and realized the question hadn’t been settled. He pressed Harriet to step back, and he faced the two men. “Your Grace, I am aware I am making a mull of all his, but perhaps now you might bestow your blessing on us.”

  The silence echoed off the bookshelves as the old man studied him. His glance towards Lord Alderford surely didn’t seek advice. The Duke of Danby drew the moment out until Morley thought he would burst. At last the man rose and extended his arm with a broad smile. “Welcome to the family, young man.”

  The moment Morley released the duke’s hand, Harriet filled his arms again. He fought to push her a respectable distance away. How had he thought he could control her once they married?

  Harriet’s laughter filled his heart. “I must write Ellie this very day! She will not believe the news I send her. And to think I dreaded this visit.”

  Whatever else she said was lost to Morley when her father chuckled. Lord Alderford spoke softly, as if wishing only his father-in-law could hear him, but Morley was able to make it out. “Do you know, I believe this is the first time we’re in agreement on anything.”

  The duke echoed the laughter. “Quite so. I must say, my plan worked quite well in this case.”

  “You cannot claim credit for this match. I defy you to show me how you could have orchestrated my daughter’s near elopement.”

  “Near elopement? She claimed it was just a kiss. You don’t mean you believe there was more to this affair than Morley let on? Do you think their meeting at the inn was arranged?”

  “I’m not quite sure what I believe. If this were Miriam or Lee, I would expect such shenanigans. But Harriet… She has always been such a biddable child. I see now it has all been a ruse. She is just as scheming as my other children.”

  Being no fool, Morley knew it was time to make their escape. Placing Lady Harriet’s hand on his arm, he steered her towards the door in hopes of quitting the room before the men discovered their absence.

  Once they were safely in the hallway, he took her hands and drew her close again. “This is a most unusual Christmas Eve.”

  She gasped. “I’d forgotten. And I don’t have a gift for you. I wonder if I might join some of my cousins in a brief trip to the village.”

  “There is one gift you can never give me too often.” With his palms on her cheeks, he lifted her face and gazed into her eyes. “Sweet Harriet, I am truly the luckiest of men.”

  Morley bent and captured her mouth. Her lips parted beneath his and she pressed herself against him, her hands tangling in his hair. She felt so right in his arms. His heart pounded as his body urged him on. He kept his own hands firmly behind her shoulders to keep from mauling her in the hallway where anyone could see.

  Harriet apparently felt no such restraints, allowing her tongue to dance most erotically with his. She stood on her toes, tugging to bring him closer. Her panting breaths were a siren’s call stirring his desire.

  Morley knew he would be sorely tested to not make love to her before they spoke their vows. How long did it take to acquire a special license? Better still, they were much closer to Gretna Green than London. They could slip away just as soon as his horses were rested.

  A hand suddenly clamped down on his shoulder and tore him from Harriet’s arms.

  ~ 11 ~

  “Morley, how dare you!” Nick swung his fist at Archie, landing a hard blow to his face.

  Harriet shrieked.

  Archie staggered and cupped his jaw. “Blast it, Nick, that hurt!”

  “It was intended to hurt. What the blazes were you thinking, man? She’s my cousin. Not one of your merry widows.” Nick blew on the knuckles of his right hand while continuing to glare at the other young man.

  Rushing to Archie’s side, Harriet clutched his sleeve. “Are you all right?”

  He nodded, never taking his eyes off her cousin. “Why did you hit me? Because I was kissing Lady Harriet? It’s all right–”

  “No. It’s not all right. What were you thinking, traveling alone with her? And where were you taking her? You’ve never mentioned an affection for her in the past.”

  Archie smiled. “It’s actually a complicated story. I’m rather surprised you’ve heard any of it. I believed Lady Harriet was going to keep still about it.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” she interjected.

  “She didn’t need to,” Nick explained. “I heard the shouting from upstairs and came down to discover who had crossed the old man. I imagined it to be one of my cousins, so I was quite surprised to hear your voice in the mix. I caught enough of the tale to know you attempted to run away with her.”

  “Yes, well, I’m rather surprised at the turn of events, myself. I had intended to spend the holiday with my aunt. In Bath.”

  Some of her cousins peered at them from the dining room doorway down the hall, so Harriet made a suggestion. “Shall we step into the parlor to finish this discussion? There is no need to continue to entertain the rest of the family with the sordid details.”

  “Sordid are they?” Nick’s fist clenched and unclenched.

  Archie slapped his friend genially on the back and guided him towards the parlor. “I fear they’ll be exceedingly dull in comparison to our past adventures.”

  Harriet followed them into the lavishly decorated room and sat in a chair between them near the roaring fire. She hadn’t realized how close an acquaintance Archie had with Nick. They were of an age and similar consequence, so it was likely they had become good friends in school.

  Once they were settled, Archie began. “By some odd bit of fate, I stopped at the same inn where Lord Alderford and his family were resting for the night. Lady Harriet feared the duke had chosen a husband for her. When she saw my carriage, she assumed my sisters were aboard, so she snuck out of the inn to await their departure. By the time I discovered her, we’d traveled some miles alone. After some discussion, I was finally able to make Lord Alderford see that marriage is the best solution to protecting Lady Harriet.”

  Nick continued to flex his hand, so Harriet offered assistance. “Shall I ring for some ice, Nicky? You appear to have hurt your hand.”

  Archie chuckled. “Don’t tell me my jaw has broken your knuckles.”

  Ducking his head and looking towards the fire, Nick admitted, “This wasn’t the first punch I threw this morning.”

  “What?” Archie’s surprise echoed Harriet’s.

  “I don’t understand what is taking place among my cousins. And my friends. Sharing bedrooms and carriages with ladies of Quality with no concern for the repercussions. The damage to the young ladies’ reputations. I found Trent in Elizabeth’s chamber this morning.”

  Harriet gasped, then fought to hide her giggle. Elizabeth’s behavior was much more shocking than her own. Perhaps she and Archie would not be the main on dit at the ball that evening, after all.

  She must try to speak to Elizabeth as soon as possible. She had so many questions about relations between a man and a woman.

  “Trent?” Archie shook his head. “So he will be leg-shackled also.”

  “To hear some of my other cousins tell it, the duke has arranged for special licenses for at least half the family,” Nick added. “And I believe the vicar will be attending the ball tonight.”

  Archie winked at Harriet. “I doubt there is one with my name on it, although there might be one with Lady Harriet’s.”

  She laughed, her eyes widening. She turned to her cousin. “Do you know if he had chosen a husband for me and the others? It must have come as quite a shock when Archie marched into the library. The poor man will be sent away without his bride.


  “Archie is it, now?” Nick glanced from Harriet to his friend.

  “Lord Morley, I mean. Forgive me, but he has been Archie to me for so many years, even though we just met. Lady Eleanor and her sisters call him thus. I must learn to address him properly, mustn’t I?”

  “Is there a license with your name on it, Nick?” Archie’s grin hinted that he hoped his friend shared his fate. “Some fine young lady waiting in the wings?”

  “I should say not.” Nick laughed, then glanced towards the closed doors and tugged at his cravat. “There had better not be. You don’t suppose Grandfather bribed some poor girl to come all this way with promises of a title? A baron has little consequence, but to some mothers in the marriage mart, any title is a good one.”

  Archie nodded. “Perhaps you should ask the servants. They know everything.”

  Nick rose and bowed briefly before Harriet. “You both will excuse me? I do believe I feel a chill coming on. A fever. Some sort of complaint. I’m sure you both will make excuses for me if I am too ill to attend the function tonight?”

  Harriet smiled, knowing if her grandfather had decided it was time for Nick to wed, the young man would be helpless to prevent it.

  ~ 12 ~

  The ballroom of Danby Castle glowed brighter than any Morley had entered in recent years, but he wondered if the light beaming from so many faces of the newly betrothed and married young ladies had something to do with that.

  He raked his hand through his hair. Now he was waxing poetic about beaming young brides. What had happened to him? Had he hit his head when the carriage lurched into the mud?

  Danby’s Christmas Eve ball was a crush by any society matron’s standards. Beyond family, it appeared most anyone of Quality in Yorkshire had joined the locals in dancing in the holiday. Word of his engagement to Lady Harriet must have spread quickly, because the matrons barely paused in their perusal of the room when their gaze landed on him.

  Perhaps there were benefits to marriage that extended beyond what he once thought. The ability to enjoy an entertainment without constantly looking over one’s shoulder was a boon, to be sure. And once he and Harriet were married, they could retire to his country house and spend time away from the city.

  The butler had been announcing arrivals, and finally Morley heard the one he awaited. “Lord and Lady Alderford, and Lady Harriet Thornhill.”

  Morley turned to watch her descend the grand staircase. Her pale pink gown set off her rosy cheeks and golden blonde curls. Her smile gleamed as she nodded a greeting to those she passed. Then her gaze found him.

  She nearly stumbled, but caught herself in time. Her eyes lowered as if suddenly shy, and he had to laugh. His Harriet, shy? He couldn’t believe it. Not the young lady who burst out laughing upon realizing she was alone in a carriage with a strange man.

  But she wasn’t coy, either. The prospect of getting to know her many facets grew more intriguing by the hour.

  Bowing when he reached the family, Morley greeted them. “Lord Alderford. Lady Alderford. Lady Harriet, might I have the next dance?”

  She curtsied quite gracefully and took his proffered hand. “Of course, Lord Morley.”

  Harriet fell in step beside him. She waved a gloved hand at a pair of young ladies nearby. “I do think this must be the largest ball Grandpapa has given. At least since I’ve been old enough to attend. I don’t recall seeing so many of my cousins in attendance at one time.”

  “Are your brother and sister here?”

  “Miriam is in Bath with Papa’s sister. I heard Lee has arrived at the castle—and with a wife! Mama is beside herself with that news. I am so excited to meet her, my new sister. I had not heard he’d formed an attachment.”

  Morley leaned close to her ear. “Perhaps he also discovered a stowaway?”

  She gasped and threw him a brief glance. “We mustn’t speak of that. What would people think?”

  “The same thing your father and cousin did, as you are all too well aware.”

  Harriet pulled on his sleeve and led him behind a column. “Will you ever forgive me, Archie? It was ill-conceived of me to—”

  He pressed his fingers to her lips. “Speak no more of it. As improper and unconventional as our meeting might have been, I don’t regret having met you. Nor anything else that has happened since.”

  Rubbing a hand along his jaw, he grinned. “Although I might have preferred informing Nicholas in a more congenial manner.”

  Her fingers traced the tender area, making him turn to press a kiss into her palm. Her sharp breath tightened his groin. Without thinking, he leaned down and captured her mouth, letting his tongue trace the seam of her lips. She leaned closer, her palms flat on his chest.

  Heat coursed through him, and he longed to explore her curves, but realization of where they were broke through the passionate fog. He took a step back. “We mustn’t do that here.”

  “Then where?”

  His laugh was rough with his need. “Your parents would notice if we were missing for too long. I wonder if your grandfather could be convinced to alter the names on one of those licenses he is said to have obtained.”

  “Oh, but Mama is looking forward to a large wedding celebration. I am the first of her children to marry. Perhaps in London at the beginning of the Season?”

  “Too long.”

  Her gaze locked on his, her smile softening. Her voice was a small margin deeper. “A winter wedding, then?”

  “As soon as the banns can be read. And my family told, of course.” What was he thinking? He was planning his wedding and his parents had yet to hear of his engagement.

  “I can’t wait to speak to Ellie. We’ll be sisters!”

  He groaned, closing his eyes. “I hadn’t thought of that. Another female giggling through the halls of Wrenthorpe.”

  “But I shall be a married woman. I’ll be much more composed.”

  “Marriage hasn’t helped my elder sisters in that manner. I won’t hold out for much hope.”

  She pouted. For some odd reason, his heart skipped a beat in fear he’d hurt her. “It is my wish that you never change. I pray you shall always be filled with laughter and joy as on the night we first met.”

  That turned the trick and her face brightened. “How can I be anything else, as long as you are at my side? Oh, dear Archie, this is all the best dream.”

  As he kissed her once more, he prayed it was a dream from which they’d never wake.

  Dedication

  I'd like to dedicate this short story to my husband for putting up with all the long nights, my children for putting up with give mommy one more minute, my mother for saying follow your dreams, and my critique partner Jodie for throwing this idea out there which opened up a whole new amazing world to me.

  ~ Julie

  ~ 1 ~

  Andrew Whitton, Earl of Hardwick had to escape.

  But he was finding it bloody hard to escape himself.

  He’d given it his best, mind you. He had the recurrent hangover to prove it. Yet no matter how much he drank, or how far away from his family he hid, his blasted memories stayed with him.

  As if haunting memories weren’t enough to make a gent depressed, Drew had, over the course of his year in France, come to understand some choices he had made were irreversible. He bloody well wished someone would have told him that little fact before he’d made such colossally bad choices. Enlightenment, after the fact, was not nearly as great as the Frenchies tried to make him believe.

  It had taken Drew a while, but he had finally stumbled upon something he was a smashing success at. He was a master at ignoring the past, so the fact that he was now being asked to face it infuriated him.

  He’d assumed he had imagined every ploy his family might try to bring him back into the fold, and had felt secure in the knowledge that he had come up with a sound counterattack for each of the tricks they might resort to. When countless letters had arrived from his sisters, he had summarily thrown them into the fire.
Who knew what sort of erstwhile entreaties lay inside them? He certainly didn’t, since he’d never opened a single one.

  If he had, he held no doubt he would have felt bad when he read how his disappearance had hurt both his sisters and mother. A worse thought than feminine disappointment though, was the idea of having to read news of his father, a man Drew hated almost as much as he hated himself. Almost. But not quite. The Marquess of Norland had been the catalyst that propelled Drew towards a bleak future—but if he was going to pretend for a moment to be a man, he had to admit his own cowardliness had sealed his fate. A sorry fate, indeed.

  He had everything he had thought he could not live without—money, a title, the promise of a greater title when Norland finally croaked—but Drew couldn’t care less. He wasn’t happy. He was less than happy. In fact, he was bloody well unhappy, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how to change the picture he had painted with his own brush of stupidity.

  To make matters worse, he was now being forced back home to Danby Castle in order to secure the inheritance he had given up everything for. An inheritance he was sure he no longer gave a flying leap about.

  He glared at the shabby boat before him and then at Nicholas Beckford, Lord Edgeworth—his one-time favorite cousin now turned traitor errand boy. Edgeworth couldn’t really expect him to risk his life by crossing the Channel back to England in that contraption, could he? “That crotchety old goat,” Drew muttered. He couldn’t believe his grandfather had sent this sorry excuse for a boat to carry him back to England. Drew eyed the tiny vessel with peeling paint and cracked boards. “As much money as the old man has, and he expects me to risk life and limb in this?”

  Edgeworth shot Drew a disapproving look. “You shouldn’t speak of Grandfather that way.”

  Drew motioned to the boat. “You do see that floating coffin, don’t you?”

 

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