by Cheryl Holt
“For pity’s sake, Winnie. What is wrong?”
She was dreadfully close to bursting into tears, but then, she’d been on the verge of weeping ever since he’d saved her from Mr. Townsend. She was sad and forlorn, her isolation from the rest of society more poignant than ever.
“I’ve always felt as if I had no place in the world,” she said. “I had a lonely childhood, with no mother to tend me, and a distant father who had no idea how to raise a daughter. When he died, I lost everything. I still have my name, but that’s about it.”
“I hate that your life has wound in this direction.”
“I want to belong somewhere.” She sounded so pathetic! “I want to live somewhere where the people are glad to have me, where they’re happy to welcome me.”
“I am glad to have you, Winnie. I am happy you’re here.”
“You’re the only one. You, Bobby, and Jane.”
“Who else matters but the three of us?”
Could he be that thick? “Your family despises me!”
“So?”
“When their animosity has been so clear, how could I ever earn a spot for myself?”
“Will my cousins keep you from my side? Should they decide how you and I carry on?”
“Maybe they can’t decide for you, but they can definitely decide for me.” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “I’m terrified of your relatives—and with good reason! They’re dangerous, and they loathe me.”
He snorted with disgust. “You’re being ridiculous, Winnie. You must know that.”
“No, I don’t know it.”
“First of all, this is my castle, and what I say is law. I say you’re being ridiculous, so you are.”
“Fine, I’m being ridiculous.”
“And second of all, I’ve rid myself of every devious, deceptive cousin. They’re gone, so there’s no one left to scorn or mistreat you.”
“I’m not willing to tarry and find out if that’s true.”
“And third of all—”
She cut him off. “There is no such thing as third of all.”
“Let’s review, Winnie. Whose castle is this?”
“Yours.”
“If I mention there’s a third, then there’s a third.”
“What is it then? Would you hurry up? My patience is exhausted.”
As they’d been bickering, he’d been slowly striding toward her, coming nearer and nearer as if she wouldn’t notice. Much too soon, he was right next to her.
“Fourth of all,” he said.
“Fourth!”
“Yes, fourth of all, I love you so much I’m dying with it.”
“You…what?”
She’d braced, being ready to parry whatever ludicrous comment spewed out of his mouth, but she hadn’t expected him to declare himself.
He couldn’t…love her! If he was stridently attached, where would it leave her? How could she toss such a dear announcement back in his face?
She shook her head. “You don’t love me.”
“Don’t tell me what I feel and what I don’t.”
He fell to a knee again and clasped her hand again. She was so stunned that she didn’t pull away. What would be the point? He would continue until he wore her down.
She had to try another tactic. “It’s not love you’re suffering. You’re just incredibly vain, and you can’t stand that I might not behave as you’re demanding.”
“Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I know. You’re determined that I remain at Dunworthy, and it drives you mad to suppose that I might have a different view of the situation.”
“I’m being driven mad, but it’s not by your bizarre views. It’s by you!”
“Yes, I have that effect on men. I drive them insane with my lunacy and antics. I always have. Since you realize it, I can’t imagine why you’d want me glued to your side.”
He grinned his devil’s grin, and she couldn’t bear to observe it. When he smiled at her like that, she couldn’t resist him. He knew it too. He’d coerce, bully, and pressure her until she acted precisely as he planned.
“I love you,” he said again, “and don’t you dare claim I don’t.”
“All right, I won’t.”
“If you weren’t being so contrary, you might admit you love me too.”
She should have denied it, should have told him he was deranged, but the words slipped out before she could bite them down. “I might love you too.”
“Then the rest is incidental details.”
“Your family doesn’t like me.”
“They don’t like me much either.” He laughed. “I’ve never really been one of them. My brother understood that about me. He made sure I escaped, so I spent more of my life away from Dunworthy than I spent here. I’m a stranger to most of my cousins.”
“Still, your surname is Dunn. You’re not a stranger.”
“Yes, and if you wed me, your surname will be Dunn too.” He paused and pretended to consider. “Winifred Dunn. Winnie Dunn. Mrs. John Dunn. All of them sound quite nice, don’t they?”
At the various designations, her pulse raced. The notion of being Mrs. John Dunn was too riveting, and she was eager to throw herself into his arms and say, Yes, yes, yes, let me become Mrs. Dunn!
Yet no matter how he harangued, she couldn’t convince herself it was a good idea.
“Get up, John,” she pleaded.
She tried to drag him to his feet, but the stubborn oaf wouldn’t budge.
“I’m staying where I am until you give me the answer I seek,” he said.
“Now who’s being ridiculous?”
“I am. I am ridiculously, pathetically, idiotically obsessed with you. Will you marry me?”
He plucked a betrothal ring out of a pocket, and before she could stop him, he slid it onto her finger. It was a thin gold band that fit perfectly. She gaped down at it, captivated and alarmed by how thrilled she was to have it on her hand.
“It was my mother’s,” he said.
“You can’t want me to have it.”
“Why wouldn’t I? You’ll wear it for me forever.”
She started to tremble, which was outrageous. She wasn’t the sort of female to quake with emotion, but with the ring on her finger, it all seemed real, seemed possible. Why couldn’t they wed? Why couldn’t they live happily ever after? Why allow his horrid family to ruin her future?
“This is demented,” she said. “You are demented.”
He smirked. “You’re shaking. Why is that? Could it be because I overwhelm you, and you can’t fend me off?”
“You couldn’t overwhelm me. Don’t flatter yourself.”
He drew her close and kissed her tummy. Was there a baby growing inside her? If so, he was correct: She couldn’t decline to wed him.
What to do…what to do…
“I’m not the greatest catch,” he absurdly stated.
Her loyalty flared. “Yes, you are! How dare you claim you might not be.”
“I’m conceited and proud, and I always have to have my own way.”
“True.”
“But I offer you what I have, and it’s a lot. It’s a home and a place to call your own. It’s Bobby and Jane as our children, and if we’re lucky, we’ll have many others too. It’s this unique spot in the world—Dunworthy Island—where I will cherish you all my days. Won’t you let me?”
He gazed up at her, appearing firm and unbendable, and she was weakening by the second. If she rejected him, what were her options?
She’d stagger to London and hope to find employment. She’d likely remain a spinster, and it was a fate too humiliating to ponder.
Would she spurn him? Would she make the stupid choice, the awful choice, that would guarantee she ended up alone? Why would she pick that as her conclusion? Why would she deliberately select it?
“I don’t know what’s best!” She was practically wailing.
> “You silly girl. I am what’s best. You can’t decide for yourself, so I’ll decide for you. Say yes, Winnie. Say you’ll have me.”
“I don’t know,” she muttered again, but her resolve was collapsing.
“You might as well give in. I won’t cease pestering you until you relent.”
“You’re such a bully!”
“I admit it.” Finally, he stood, and he looked cocky and very sure of himself. “Before you agree, there’s a pesky fact I should share with you.”
She was almost afraid to learn what it might be. “What is it?”
“Jane and I discussed you, and I have declared you a Dunn. You are one of us now. You can’t ever escape that reality.”
She chuckled miserably. “You declared me a Dunn?”
“Yes. Shall I brand your arm so it’s official or will you simply take my word for it?”
“If I’m a Dunn, I suppose the island’s tentacles will bind my ankles to trap me.”
“Precisely.”
“And if I’m a Dunn, I don’t suppose I can refuse to obey you.”
“Now you’re beginning to comprehend how things work around here.”
“If I’m a Dunn, you are my lord and master.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“I don’t, but it’s occurred to me that I can’t out-argue you.”
“I can’t figure out why you ever thought you could.”
She felt as if she was running toward a cliff and about to jump over. Where would she be when she landed?
“Swear an oath to me,” she said.
“Whatever it is, Winnie, if I have to fly to the moon to get it for you, I will.”
“Swear that you’ll protect me, that I’ll always be safe with you.”
He scoffed. “I can’t believe you’d need my vow about it. I won’t dignify your request with a reply.”
“Then promise you’ll always love me, that you’ll never stop.”
“That’s two oaths, not one,” he arrogantly pointed out, “and I swear to both.”
They froze, gawking at each other like halfwits. There was such an air of destiny in the room, as if every step she’d taken in her life had led her to this very moment.
“I’m going to ask you again, Winnie,” he said, “and you better be ready with the correct answer. I’m weary of debating this.”
“Ask away, John Dunn. Let’s discover what answer you receive.”
“Will you marry me, Winifred Watson? Will you be mine forever?”
For an eternity, she paused, holding her breath, anxious for every detail to sink in so she’d never forget, then she said, “Yes, John Dunn, I’ll marry you. I’ll be yours forever.”
He whooped with joy and lifted her off the floor, twirling her in happy circles, then he was kissing her and kissing her, the wild embrace leaving her dizzy with merriment and satisfaction.
The door opened, and Bobby was standing there. Jane and Huntly hovered behind him. Rex too.
“Are you all right, Lord John?” Bobby asked. “We heard hollering.”
John set her on her feet and said to them, “We weren’t hollering.”
“What were you doing?” Jane inquired, looking worried.
“I was proposing—” John confessed.
“And I was accepting,” Winnie finished for him.
Jane frowned. “Uncle John, you were proposing…marriage? To Miss Watson?”
“Yes, Jane,” John responded. “We’re marrying.”
“That’s splendid news!”
“I certainly think so,” John haughtily retorted.
The three children gaped at them, then Jane asked, “When will it happen? Please tell me it will be immediately.”
“I can’t predict when we will—” Winnie started, but John interrupted her.
“Yes, it will be immediately. I can’t delay and risk that she’d change her mind.”
Winnie peered up at him, realizing that he’d offered her everything she’d ever dreamed of having: a home, a husband, a place, a family.
She smiled. “I won’t ever change my mind, John Dunn.”
Bobby grinned. “You’re about to be leg-shackled, Lord John.”
John grinned too and said, “Aren’t I lucky?”
Rex barked his approval, as Jane rushed over to hug Winnie as tightly as she could. The two boys were more reserved, but still, they hurried in to pat John on the back.
“I was sure he’d pick you,” Jane said to Winnie. “I told Bobby weeks ago that he would.”
“Then you figured it out long before I did,” Winnie replied. “I had no idea this was coming.”
“For a minute there,” John said, “it was touch and go, but I wore her down.”
“I couldn’t resist,” Winnie admitted.
“Of course you couldn’t,” Bobby said. “This is Lord John we’re talking about.”
John nodded imperiously. “Everyone knows I always get my way.”
EPILOGUE(S)
Christmas Eve, three months later…
Winnie relaxed on a comfortable sofa and stared into the roaring fire. It was snowing outside, and the huge blaze had heated the room to a toasty temperature. She’d carried a shawl downstairs, but didn’t need to drape it over her shoulders. It was that balmy.
Josephine—Jo—Bates was sitting with her, although she wasn’t Miss Bates anymore. She was Josephine Prescott, Countess of Benton. Through a whirl of fast circumstances, she’d married Peyton Prescott, and they were together and extremely happy.
When she and Winnie had departed Benton six months earlier, they’d both been in dire straits. Jo had trudged off with her niece, Daisy, and Winnie had left with Bobby and Jane.
At the time, they hadn’t known what the future would bring. The children hadn’t had any champions to stand up for them. Winnie and Jo had been the only ones who’d stepped forward.
Their decision to take charge had been mad behavior, but they’d proceeded anyway. As a result, they’d both faced calamity, but had survived. They’d both fallen in love with strong, powerful men and had become brides.
Jo was in the family way and Winnie suspected she might be increasing too. She hadn’t mentioned the possibility to anyone though. She’d been too nervous and wouldn’t stir any excitement until she was sure.
“Last summer,” Jo said, “when we were so afraid, could you ever have imagined the wild endings we’ve had?”
“No. I wasn’t certain where I’d find my next meal, let alone a job or a place to live. I was making frantic, desperate choices. I definitely never expected to wind up with a husband and a home.”
“You didn’t just wind up with a home,” Jo said. “According to your description, you found a castle.”
“And the lord to go with it.”
They smiled, pleased with themselves, but relieved too at being safe, at having managed such stellar conclusions.
They were at Benton, the grand estate where Bobby and Jane had been raised. Peyton Prescott, Lord Benton, had followed through on his promise to Daisy that she could invite her siblings for a visit, and Daisy had begged for it to occur at Christmas.
Winnie and John had debated the request and had nearly declined. After all, they were newly married themselves, and they’d wanted to spend Christmas at Dunworthy. But Jane had been so thrilled over the prospect of traveling to Benton, of being with Daisy again, that it would have been cruel to refuse.
As John had pointed out, they had their entire life to celebrate holidays at Dunworthy. For this initial one, they were spoiling Jane, allowing her to see her sister. The previous year had been scary for all three children, and by trekking to Benton in the middle of winter, they were hoping to smooth over some of the damage that had been inflicted by Lord Benton’s in-laws.
With the mischief various relatives had recently fomented, it had Winnie wondering why any person would yearn to have a large family. At the moment, her smal
l one seemed like plenty.
The scene around her was cozy and intimate. John and Peyton were chatting over in the corner. It had turned out that they knew each other from school, and of course, they’d served in the military—Peyton in the navy and John in the army—so they had many acquaintances and experiences in common.
Bobby, Jane, and Daisy—with Rex avidly watching all—were loafing on the rug, playing cards with their other half-sisters, Nancy and Alice. The two girls were Peyton’s nieces too, his brother’s legitimate offspring born during his marriage. Peyton was their guardian, and he’d taken them away from their mother, the prior countess who was a vicious harpy. They lived with him and Jo at Benton.
It was odd to have the old earl’s legitimate and illegitimate children mixing together. There were many traditional types who would deem the situation to be scandalous. But the five children had been secret friends when Jane, Bobby, and Daisy had still resided at Benton, and their Uncle Peyton felt there wasn’t any reason to keep them separated.
So who was Winnie to quibble? She liked all of them and was delighted to have Jane so merry and calm.
Bobby, too, was more relaxed. He was acting more like the boy he was rather than the man he was becoming at Dunworthy. His four sisters adored him, and he was the center of their worshipful attention, which he clearly and pompously enjoyed.
“I have to hire a whole new staff for the castle,” Winnie said to Jo. “I’m a tad overwhelmed by the notion. I’m leaving most of it until next summer.”
“I had to hire all new at Benton too. Peyton’s sister-in-law and her brother were so awful to me that Peyton kicked them out and fired their servants. When I first moved into the manor, it was an empty shell.”
“If he had to evict relatives, it must have ignited quite a ruckus.”
“It was shocking. Normally, he’s very patient, but they’d vexed him outrageously. He’d finally had enough, and he snapped. His temper can be dangerous when he’s riled.”
“John’s kin were awful to me too,” Winnie said, “and he tossed most of them out—after tolerating them much longer than I would have. I’m predicting it will be more difficult for me to fill positions than for you. Benton is centrally located, and it’s so beautiful and renowned. People would love to work here. Dunworthy, on the other hand, is…well…it feels like the end of the Earth.”