"You're setting her free," Miss Bowstock stated, her eyes wide as she marvelled at his words. "Oh, how romantic."
How consigning himself to a life of lonely misery could be considered romantic, was beyond James, though he had never claimed to understand the mysterious workings of the female mind. Even his sister, who could usually be counted upon to be cynical, looked slightly misty eyed.
"What utter tosh," Falconbridge put an end to the lady's romanticism. "If you love her, then you must fight for her Payne. Just a few days ago you were ready to put a bullet through Jackson for her hand."
"Jackson's not the obstacle any more, though," James shrugged, "It is Jane herself -and you can't suggest I put a bullet through her."
"No," Falconbridge retorted, "Though you can ruddy well tell her that you want her as your wife and that you won't take no for an answer."
Falconbridge finished this sentence with a pointed look to Miss Bowstock, who flushed and turned her head away quickly, once more affecting an interest in the passing countryside. The quartet spent the last hour in silence, each ruminating on their own predicaments, bar Caroline who fell back into a deep sleep.
"We're here," James leaned forward in his seat as the carriage turned into the driveway of Jarvis House. It had barely rolled to a halt before he opened the door and leapt out, taking the sweeping steps to the front door two at a time in his rush to get to Jane.
"Lord Payne," the butler gasped, as James came flying through the front door, "We were not expecting you."
"Where is Miss Deveraux?" James asked, too anxious for social niceties. "I must speak to her at once."
"She's not here," the butler replied, eyeing him nervously. James supposed he looked rather alarming, his clothes rumpled from travelling and his eyes wild with urgency. "She'll be down at the boarding house, if she's anywhere. Are you staying Lord Payne, if you are I'll have the rooms made up for you?"
"Yes, please," James called over his shoulder, for he was already half way out the door, running toward the boarding house and the woman who held his heart.
"You must be Lord Payne," a flaxen haired woman with a Northern accent opened the door of the boarding house, summoned by James' furious banging.
"Is Jane..?"
"She's in the parlour with the other ladies," the woman, who James presumed was the proprietress Polly Jenkins, said with a wide smile. "Come in, I'll show you the way. Though I warn you - anything you have to say will be said in front of an audience."
James did not care if he had to speak in front of a hundred people, he needed to see Jane and tell her how he felt. Though when he entered the drawing room and saw several pairs of feminine eyes watching him with undisguised glee, he nearly reconsidered.
"James," Jane stood up from her seat, her mouth open in shock, "I mean Lord Payne, we were not expecting you."
"I wanted to —I wanted to—" James stuttered, trying to frame what it was that he actually wanted to say, finally settling upon; "I wanted to tell you that I love you Jane."
A collective sigh went up around the room, as every lady's eyes swivelled from James to Jane, to gauge her reaction.
Jane stood stock still, her eyes blinking behind her spectacles. Dash it, James thought, I've frightened her.
"I know that initially our agreement was that you would end our engagement the owner of this fine establishment," he continued, "And if that is how you want this engagement to end, dear Jane, then that is how it shall. All I want is for you to be happy, even if it means that I shall be miserable."
"Oh, how darling," one lady from a pair of identical twins, squeaked. James shot her an annoyed glance; there would be time enough to dissect his speech when he had left brokenhearted.
A silence filled the room, only broken by the arrival of Miss Bowstock, Caroline and the Marquess, as well as the Viscount and Viscountess Jarvis. They crowded into the already packed parlour, peering nervously between Jane and James.
"What did we miss?" his sister asked in a loud, stage whisper. James cringed —trust Caroline to be so direct.
"Lord Payne has told Jane that he loves her and wants her as his bride," Polly deadpanned, "Though he is willing to let her go, if that is what will make her happy."
"No. No. No."
James jumped, as Julian gave a growl of annoyance.
"You shall accept Payne's proposal Jane, or find yourself without a home," the Viscount threatened, "I shall not have a spinster sister foisted upon me for the rest of my days."
"Yes you shall," a small voice called, interrupting the Viscount mid-speech. To James' surprise it was Emily who had spoken, her face flushed with annoyance. "Jane is my sister too Julian and she will always have a home with us. Though why she'd want to stay with a bad tempered mule like you is beyond me."
James raised his eyebrows; it was nice to see Julian finally being brought to task.
"So, there you are Jane," he said, breaking the silence that had again fallen, "Every option is open to you. You can choose any path you like."
It felt as though the whole room was collectively holding their breath, waiting for Jane to speak.
"I..," she began, and James felt as though his heart would stop beating completely as he waited for her answer.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"I.." Jane felt her voice trail off and she struggled to quell her nerves. She had spoken in front of an audience before, though only on academic subjects and this was anything but.
"I," she continued, avoiding the eyes of her audience and focusing only on James. He was heartbreakingly handsome, despite his dishevelled appearance. "I have been told many times over the past few days, my Lord, that for a clever woman I have been acting very stupidly, when it comes to you."
He said nothing in reply, merely remained where he stood, his tawny eyes filled with hope.
"And they are right," Jane continued, holding his gaze with her own, "I have been completely an utterly stupid and blind James. It has always been you. You have always been my protector and my saviour —and when I try to imagine a life without you...It's impossible."
"So you?"
"I will marry you. I will love you for the rest of our days and I will be proud to stand at you side, as your Duchess."
For one unbearable moment, nobody spoke, and Jane feared that James would respond by telling her to go stuff a chicken, she had missed out on her chance. Instead, a wide smile broke across his face and he crossed the room in two long stride, before taking her into his arms and kissing her soundly on the lips. It was much tamer than their previous encounters, but it still left Jane feeling rather breathless.
"Behold my fiance," James called happily to the room, ignoring his sister's sarcastic call of; "Don't you mean behold her again?"
The ladies of the room stood up and rushed to Jane, surrounding her and bestowing hugs, kisses and good wishes.
"It's so romantic," Alexandra whispered, clutching her hands to her chest.
"Congratulations Jane," a soft voice said. Jane turned and found Emily standing beside her, a shy smile upon her face.
"Thank you, for what you said," Jane whispered, engulfing her sister-in-law in a warm embrace.
"No, thank you for being so kind to me, even when I was perfectly horrid," Emily replied, "We shall be fast friends from now on, won't we Jane?"
"We shall be more than that," Jane declared, "We shall be sisters."
The room was in an uproar, as every guest of the boarding house began chatting animatedly. Polly declared she would make tea and left the room, bustling Belinda, who had been hiding in the doorway, out of her way as she left.
"Is that you Hestia?" Mrs Actrol boomed, from her seat by the fireplace, squinting across the room at Belinda, who turned white as a sheet.
Hestia? Who on earth was that? Jane thought that maybe Mrs Actrol needed to buy some new spectacles and swept over to her companion who was still trying to look unobtrusive, with her back pressed against the wall.
"Belinda, I'm so sorry
for leaving without you," she whispered, feeling truly contrite.
"That's alright, I probably would have done the same myself," the usually cheerful Belinda whispered back, her face ashen. "Though I did have to spend three days cooped up in a carriage with the odious Marquess."
Odious was not a word that was usually used to describe the dashing Marquess of Falconbridge, though when Jane glanced over at him, she saw that he was watching Belinda with a dark scowl upon his face. Goodness —what was it that had happened between the pair of them?
She never had a chance to ask the question, for a hand slipped through hers; James. He gave her a subtle wink and gently tugged her through the doorway, out into the quiet hallway.
"Alone at last," her betrothed whispered, his eyes soft as he gazed down at her.
"And properly engaged this time," Jane whispered, feeling suddenly shy in his presence.
"We won't be for long," James declared firmly. "Next Sunday the banns will be read for the final time, then the following Monday I shall make you my wife."
"And I shall be Lady Jane Payne," Jane realised with a snort of amusement.
"Until you become Jane, Duchess of Hawkfield," James reassured her, "Though I might warn you, my mother is will probably live forever."
"Oh, no," Jane groaned, "Your mother. Was she terribly annoyed that I had left?"
"Gosh, no," James said with a laugh, "She was more annoyed with me. She told me not to return unless I was bringing back a wife and grandchildren."
"I suppose one of the two will have to do," Jane laughed.
"And once we are wed we can get to work straight away on the second," James whispered, his head lowering to hers. He caught her lips in a searing kiss, gently pushing her backward against the wall of the hallway. His kiss was full of tenderness and promises, and Jane felt tears on her cheeks.
"Goodness, are you crying?" James asked, his face a picture of shock as he pulled away from her.
"Yes," Jane smiled through her tears, "Though only because I am so happy. I love you James, I just wish I hadn't been so stupid for so long."
"It's quite alright," James gave her a cheeky smile, "It's nice to know that you're sometimes wrong —otherwise you would be perfect to the point of unbearable."
With a growl of laughter he leaned forward and kissed her again, and they would have stayed like that had Polly not interrupted them as she made her way to the parlour with a tray of tea.
"Enough of that," she called with a cackle, "I run a respectable establishment here. You two will have plenty of time for that sort of carry on after the wedding."
They would, Jane thought happily as a blush stained her cheeks, they would have the rest of their lives together.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Marquess of Temptation
Reluctant Regency Brides Book Three
Since her father's death Miss Belinda Bowstock has been living a lie. Working as a companion, under an assumed name, all she wants to do is keep her head down and forget about the scandalous tragedy that haunts her past.
There's only one problem...
After two delicious stolen kisses, the usually icy and aloof Alexander Delaney, Marquess of Falconbridge, finds himself entranced by Belinda Bowstock, a lowly paid companion. When he discovers that she is, in fact, his missing ward and that her life is in grave danger, he knows that there is only one thing he can do:
Marry the chit and put a bullet through the man who is trying to kill her.
There's only one problem, Belinda has absolutely no desire to wed the cold Marquess -and she's hiding more than one secret from him...
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CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Regency Black Hearts Collection
Three wonderful tales of couples whose love meets a few hiccups, stutters, and out and out villains on the path to happily ever after.
Proposing to a Duke
At the age of five and twenty, confirmed spinster Isabella Peregrine is given an unexpected ultimatum by her new step-mother: find a husband or I'll find one for you.
Thoroughly in a tizz, Isabella proposes a marriage of convenience to the nearest male to her - who just so happens to be the brooding, intimidating Duke of Blackmore. When he rebuffs her clumsy advances, Isabella leaves for London, determined to find the man of her dreams and soothe her bruised ego.
Michael Linfield, Duke of Blackmore is a legendary, fearsome, war hero; famous for reducing debutantes and their mothers to floods of tears with just one glance. The brooding, giant of a man is hiding a secret however - a debilitating stammer that has haunted him since childhood. When the delightful Miss Peregrine proposes a marriage of convenience to him - with no benefits - Michael is so startled that his stammer reappears and all he can manage to reply is "N-n-no".
When news of Isabella's success in London soon reaches his ears, Michael is determined to go to town and win her as his own, if only she'll give him a second chance at love.
The Duke's Brother
Can a Duke's bastard win the heart of a lady?
Plucked as an orphan from the slums of St. Giles' by his half-brother the Duke of Blackmore, Sebastian Black soon rises to become one of the richest men in London, and a notorious rake to boot. His time at Eton has left him with a healthy disregard for the aristocracy - that is until he inadvertently becomes involved in the affairs of the prim, proper and snooty Aurelia St Claire.
Aurelia's brother, Lord Theodore Epsom, was reported missing after Waterloo, but she is convinced that she has sighted him alive and well in London. The pair join forces to try to discover exactly what happened to Theo and as their sleuthing takes them into London's murky back alleys, they discover that they aren't so different after all.
Can two people overcome their prejudices, their foibles - or even their very history - to find love?
A Lady Like No Other
"Would my lady care to dance?"
"My lady would rather eat a live chicken."
Beautiful, titled, and wealthy to boot, Lady Lydia Beaufort was expected to have a spectacular London Season. There was just one problem; the eccentric daughter of the Earl of Galway had no intention of becoming the ton's darling. Especially if it involved humouring the awful herds of fortune hunters and greedy second sons, intent on making her their bride.
All Lydia wanted was to be left alone in peace, to read her beloved Lord Byron. That is until an incorrigible rogue of a Marquess burst into her life, and turned all her ideas about love upside down.
Charming, congenial, and ever so handsome, Gabriel Livingstone, Marquess of Sutherland could have his pick of any of the season's debutantes, but the only rose he longed to pluck, was the very thorny Lady Beaufort. Just when he thinks he might finally have won her heart, fate, in the form of an Italian Count, a mischievous Gypsy and a political assassination plot, gets in his way.
Can this mismatched pair find their happily ever after?
Click on the link below to view on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/Regency-Black-Hearts-Collection-Three-ebook/dp/B074YYRQMR/ref=la_B06WVL4PNT_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1507563442&sr=1-4
The Lord of Heartbreak Page 12