A Gift From a Goddess

by Maggi Andersen

  As expected, the newspapers were filled with the details of Lord Osborne’s murderous dealings, and friends informed them the subject was on everyone’s lips. Laura’s brother had even stood up in the House and apologized to Lewis. It all served to calm the waters, but Hebe still feared the ton would not accept her. And after all Lewis had been through, she would hate to have that happen. Lewis believed a couple of months away from London would banish the gossips, but Hebe was not so sure.

  ~~~

  As the coach traveled along the country lanes sprinkled with daisies and blackthorn blossom, Lewis held Hebe’s hand in his, surprised at how much he looked forward to showing her his country home. “Where exactly was your father’s estate?” He needed to hear more about Hebe’s past life, to fill in all those years when he hadn’t known her.

  “Charlbury. In the Evenlode valley. Our land bordered Wychwood forest.”

  A mere two days ride from his estate, he thought and made a silent promise to Hebe.

  She was telling him about fishing in their stream as a child with her father, but stopped to crane her neck out of the window as their coach entered through the gates and traveled along the driveway to Chesterton Manor.

  “I can see the roof and chimneys above the trees.” She turned back to him, blue eyes dancing.

  She looked so endearing that his heart hammered in his chest. He felt a burst of pride, and something close to pure joy as the Tudor mansion came into view, its warm brick walls partly obscured by creeper. Spring had wrought its magic on the garden. The huge crabapple tree was a froth of pink and white blossom and the sweet scent of honeysuckle filled the air.

  “Oh, my goodness. It’s charming,” she murmured, as he assisted her from the carriage. She tucked a small gloved hand through his arm, her pretty smile, and the dimple at its corner, all he could see of her face beneath the brim of her bonnet. She uttered a gusty sigh. “I wish we could stay here forever.”

  Lewis also found the idea appealing. When Sarah answered the door, he escorted Hebe inside and introduced her to his housemaid. The peaceful atmosphere settled over him as it used to do. Determined that their weeks here would be spent in lighthearted enjoyment and the dark past banished, he led Hebe into the great hall with a massive inglenook fireplace at one end. “We’ll ride into the village this afternoon. The villagers will want to meet you.”

  “Heavens,” she murmured, her face turning pink. She removed her hat and patted her hair. Then ran a hand over the intricately carved woodwork on the staircase before going to view one of his statues which graced a corner. An oil painting hung on the oak paneled wall caught her eye. It was of Lewis as a youth, holding the reins of a chestnut stallion, his dog, Billy, at his feet.

  “You look as if you want to mount the horse and ride away,” she said with a laugh, “and I suspect that Billy wants to join you.”

  Lewis grinned. “That describes us both perfectly.”

  “A trifle impatient?” she asked with a mischievous smile.

  He was forced to tamp down the urge to press her against the door and kiss his way from her tempting lips down to the rise of her breasts. Sarah had reappeared. She was with Mrs. Priddy, the housekeeper, and the carriage carrying his valet and other members of the staff, had just rattled its way around the corner of the house.

  Lewis introduced Hebe to the housekeeper. “Some of Cook’s excellent buns which rival Sally Lunn’s with our tea please, Mrs. Priddy. But first, I wish to show Lady Chesterton the rest of the house.” His heart warmed at the prospect of sharing his favorite place with her. But right now, he most wanted to be alone with her.

  An orange cat came to greet them with a loud mew. Lewis scooped the cat into his arms. “Caught any mice, Poppy?” He grinned. “What Poppy lacks as a mouser, she makes up for in charm.”

  “Indeed she does.” Hebe stroked Poppy’s fur and was rewarded with a loud purr. “You’re a fine looking cat.”

  After giving Hebe a glimpse of the reception rooms Lewis took her hand and led her upstairs, with the cat following.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The days passed in a blur, filled with delightful discoveries, about each other as well as the estate. They made love endlessly, talked late into the night and slept until almost noon. Then famished, they breakfasted, rode over the meadows, with Lewis’ two greyhounds following, tongues lolling. Or they wandered the land on foot, through the apple orchard where the bees buzzed among the blossoms which reminded Hebe of Aunt Prudence, until Lewis drew her against a trunk and angled his mouth to meet hers. Then all her thoughts were of him.

  They visited the neighbors, rode into the village, and stopped traffic when a crowd gathered in the street to meet her. The same occurred when they attended Sunday service at the gray stone church.

  At the beginning of the third week, Lewis propped his head in his hand as he lay in bed beside her. “Shall we go to Bath for a few days?”

  Hebe felt lazy, but the prospect of viewing the Cathedral, shopping on Pulteney Bridge, visiting the Pump Room and promenading the streets called to her. “Oh yes, lets.”

  “We could spend the night there,” he said a glint of a smile in his brown eyes. “And then we might travel on to Charlbury,” he said casually.

  She sat up, her eyes wide. “You’d like to view my old home?”

  “We could find out if your dog remembers you. Doesn’t a neighbor have him?”

  Hebe drew in a breath. “Rex? Oh, Lewis! I do love you!” She rolled on top of him and nuzzled his neck, enjoying his deep chuckle rumbling beneath her.

  Lewis’ hands slid along her spine and cupped her derriere. “The bottom that inspired a statue of Aphrodite,” he murmured and pressed a kiss on her ear.

  “You said it was a mosaic in…” she began but her words were swept away by his kiss.

  ~~~

  Three letters awaited them when they returned to Chesterton Manor with Rex, a large silky-eared black dog of indeterminate species, who was nowhere near as fleet of foot as Lewis’ greyhounds, although he kept trying. Lewis had delighted in Hebe and the dog’s happy reunion. The neighbor, a Mr. Marksville had taken good care of the animal. But it was plain Rex considered himself to be Hebe’s dog, so with good grace, the gentleman returned him to his mistress.

  In the Evenlode valley, they’d stopped to view Hebe’s old house from the road, a large manor house built of Bath stone with the majestic forest in the distance. Hebe sighed and sniffed into her handkerchief, but when Rex jumped onto the seat in concern, she hugged the dog and turned grateful eyes to Lewis. He smiled, delighted that she was happy. This trip had been a gamble and might have been disastrous, but it had turned out very well indeed.

  Lewis sat on the bookroom sofa with Rex stretched out on the rug beside Poppy, the dog having made his peace with the cat after a cautious beginning. Lewis opened the letter from Colin, while Hebe seated beside him, read Emmy’s. It appeared, from Colin’s point of view, the birth had been a very worrying time. Colin had feared Emmy would not survive a long perilous labor. But he was delighted to announce a new member to the family, a daughter, Catherine Anne. Colin was perfectly comfortable with one child and had no need for an heir.

  “Emmy says the birthing went as well as expected. She adores her daughter, but she plans to give Colin a son,” Hebe said looking up from the letter.

  Lewis chuckled. “It appears Colin might have other ideas. Although with time he may change his mind. Emmy is a healthy young woman.”

  “I hope to give you a son,” Hebe said gazing at him fondly.

  Lewis’ chest tightened. He was suddenly in accord with Colin, giving birth could be dangerous. “Let’s allow nature to take its course,” he said, guardedly.

  “I may even be pregnant now,” Hebe said, a hand on her stomach.

  “Do you think so?” Mixed feelings rushed through him: joy, excitement, trepidation, as he fondly regarded his wife. Hebe had blossomed since they’d come here. Her cheeks pink, her blue eyes as bright a
s the carpet of bluebells in the wood.

  “It’s too early to tell, silly,” she said, affectionately stroking his hair.

  “Mm. What about the other letter?”

  “It’s from my mother.” She unfolded the paper and read.

  “Well, is she coming to visit?”

  “No, not yet. Mama says Grandfather still needs her.”

  “Your mother enjoys being needed,” he said gently.

  “At first I thought she was saying it to put my mind at ease. But I honestly believe Mama does like caring for Grandfather. And, surprisingly, after a bad beginning, it appears he has grown fond of her.”

  “Shall we hold a ball when we return to London? We’ll invite your mother, your aunt, and your grandfather.”

  “A ball?” Hebe’s heart began to beat fast. She clutched the letter in her hands. “I wonder if Aunt Prudence will come? I’m sure Grandfather won’t.”

  “No, but your mother will, and that’s all that matters.”

  “Yes, I hope to see Mama restored to her old life.”

  “And for her to see you safe and well,” he said looping an arm around her shoulders.

  “What if those we invite don’t wish to attend?”

  “They will, my love. Some out of true friendship and others from curiosity.”

  Hebe nodded. “That sounds very much like the ton.”

  She rested her head against his shoulder.

  Epilogue

  Mayfair, London, Six Weeks Later

  Every invitation to the ball had been accepted. Whether out of curiosity, or to invite them back into the fold, Hebe had no way of knowing. Lewis assured her it was the latter, but she remained jittery. She wanted this ball to be special for his sake as well as her own.

  Her mother had come to London with Hebe’s grandfather. They stayed at the earl’s home, Longford Court. Grandfather’s health had apparently improved, but Hebe doubted he would be well enough or even desire to attend the ball.

  The reception room doors had been folded back to form one long room, the furniture removed. Chairs and sofas and occasional tables now lined the walls. The twin chandeliers sparkled after having been taken down and cleaned, and a three-piece orchestra set up on a dais for the dancing. Cook and the kitchen staff created an array of tasty dishes to tempt the guests, the footmen ready to serve them chilled champagne. The servants had been busy for weeks and were to be rewarded with a party of their own below stairs.

  Hebe conferred with Mrs. Priddy concerning any last minute concerns. Now satisfied, she returned to her bedchamber where Molly waited to dress her in the pale blue satin ballgown. Madame LaFontaine had exceeded all Hebe’s expectations. The embroidered gown had a ruched and padded hem, its tightly fitted bodice cut in a low square to show off the diamond necklace and earrings which were a present from Lewis.

  At nine o’clock Hebe came down to join Lewis to greet their guests.

  His eyes warmed, and he kissed her cheek. “You take my breath away.”

  “And you’re very handsome.” In his dark evening clothes Lewis was devastatingly attractive. She was glad he was hers and no ambitious marriage-minded mamas could cast a speculative eye on him.

  The statue, Aphrodite, now sat in an alcove on the staircase. “What if some guests know I was the model?” she asked, horrified.

  “We’ll just have to cope with the envy,” Lewis said with a chuckle.

  Hebe blinked. “Envy?”

  “Why do you think I placed it there before the ball? I’ll enjoy the prospect of gentlemen envying me my gorgeous wife.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him and took his arm as the first guests began to arrive.

  As Stubbs announced them, a maid took their cloaks and wraps, and a footman directed them to the ballroom.

  When the butler opened the door again, Hebe rushed forward. “Mama!” Her mother was dressed in a beautiful dark blue silk gown, the family sapphires adorning her throat and ears.

  “Hebe, how beautiful you look. And Lewis so handsome!” She kissed their cheeks then turned as Hebe’s grandfather entered leaning on his cane, a hand on Aunt Prudence’s arm.

  “Grandfather! And Aunt Prudence!” Hebe cried, coming to kiss her aunt’s cheek. “How good of you to come.”

  Grandfather bowed his head. “Good evening, Hebe, Chesterton.”

  Aunt Prudence wore a new purple gown with the feathers in her hair dyed to match. Brilliants sparkled here and there like tiny stars. “Ah, you both seem content.” She nodded at Lewis. “The planetary systems never lie.”

  “It is good indeed to see you here and looking well, sir.”

  “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it,” Grandfather said, looking a good deal brighter than Hebe remembered.

  “Is that a new gown, Mama?”

  Her mother smiled. “Your grandfather has been most generous.”

  Hebe admitted to being surprised. “You are happy in Tunbridge Wells, Mama? You don’t wish to live here with us?”

  She patted Hebe’s cheek. “My dear girl. I am very busy. I spend the evenings playing faro and chess with your grandfather. I’m at present rearranging the reception rooms, which have become fusty and dull. The head gardener consults with me over the planting. So you must not worry. But should you need me in the future, of course I will come immediately.”

  Lewis gestured to Thomas, and he hurried forward. “Escort Lord Longford and the ladies to the drawing room. Ensure they are made comfortable.”

  “Is that the Earl of Longford?” a lady asked as she came through the front door.

  “I believe it is,” her husband replied. “He hasn’t been seen for so long I thought he’d passed away. Good to find him amongst Society once more.”

  Hebe was very grateful to her grandfather for coming. He no doubt knew his presence would dignify the occasion and aid her and her mother’s return to polite Society.

  As more carriages began to queue up outside in the street, Lewis tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “Have I told you how much I adore you, Hebe?” he whispered in her ear.

  “You have, my lord,” she said as another couple entered.

  “In case there’s any misapprehension, I shall endeavor to show you later.”

  Her cheeks warm, Hebe stepped forward with Lewis to receive another couple. “Mr. and Mrs. Grimes. How good of you to come.”

  A Legend To Love Series

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  A Gift From A Goddess by Maggi Andersen

  The Duke of Darkness by Cora Lee

  Chapter One Excerpt from The Duke of Darkness

  A Legend to Love Series

  By

  Cora Lee

  Copyright ©2018 Cora Lee

  Buy The Duke of Darkness

  Book 10

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  Chapter One

  North Wales, 1819

  Thump

  The Duke of Rhuddlan’s hand flew to the back of his head as he pitched forward over the neck of his horse. Stars exploded before his eyes and pain spread through his skull, while sticky warmth began to ooze through his fingers. He managed to sling an arm around the horse’s neck to keep himself from falling off, but only just. The sudden clinch made the poor beast panic and it started thrashing about, determined to dislodge Rhuddlan. The tighter he held on, the harder the horse bucked, until it succeeded in dumping its ducal rider onto the muddy road.

  Rhuddlan landed on his side, his head bouncing mercifully off his arm—flung up at the last moment to shie
ld his face from the impact—rather than the ground. He lay there for a moment or two with his eyes closed, trying to clear his mind and take stock of his body.

  But when he opened his eyes, he saw only darkness.

  He held a hand up to his face, close enough for him to smell the damp earth on his fingers, but his eyes registered nothing. Rolling onto his back, he spread his arms out wide and shut his eyes again, hoping that the next time he opened them his vision would be restored.

  It wasn’t.

  “Your Grace!” a voice called from somewhere far away. “Your Grace, are you hurt?”

  He struggled to sit up, loath to appear weak before a stranger. But a great wave of dizziness washed over him and knocked him back to the ground.

  Fabric swished in his ear as if someone in a gown or long robe had knelt down beside him. A cool, calloused hand smoothed his brow, stroked his cheek. The blackness began to fade when he opened his eyes once more, but it was replaced by a world twirling like a demented ballerina and he shut them tight again.

  “Your Grace, don’t move for a moment. You’ve had a nasty fall.”

  The voice was feminine, English, and he heard its owner suck in a breath when her fingers met the blood oozing from his wound.

  “I assure you, madam, that I—”

  “I beg your pardon, Your Grace,” the voice interrupted, “but if you’re about to tell me you’re perfectly well, then you can save your breath. I can see very well what kind of state you’re in.”

  Her tone was brusque but polite and Rhuddlan’s world was still spinning, so he held his piece. He was clearly in need of assistance, and if this girl had plans to finish him off she’d have done so by now.

  “Very well,” he murmured, heartened that his words were properly enunciated, not slurred, and sloppy like his thoughts. “What do you suggest?”

  He heard a second figure join the first, kneeling on the road beside him. “First, we stop the bleeding, Your Grace. Can you sit up if we help you?”