by Laura Landon
“I did not steal my uncle’s vase,” Haverly said between clenched teeth. “But I know who did, so I suggest it is in everyone’s best interest for you to let me go and we’ll forget this ever happened.”
“Are you actually trying to blackmail me,” Lord Marwick asked, rising to his feet.
“Enough.” Andrew stood up and faced his father. “Haverly didn’t steal that vase. I did.”
“Andrew, no,” Lady Marwick cried.
His father’s face darkened. “My youngest son is a thief?”
“I was in my cups at the time,” Andrew said, swallowing hard, “which I’m aware is no excuse, Father. Haverly dared me to take it and it seemed like a lark at the time.” His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “I regretted the impulsive action the next day, after we returned home and I recovered from my excesses of the night before. I decided the only honorable thing to do was take the vase back to Lord Varney and confess.”
Lord Marwick’s hand curled into fists and Diana could see the man was barely able to contain his mounting anger. “But you didn’t do the honorable thing, did you, Andrew?”
“I forbade him from doing so,” Lady Marwick interjected, her face gray. “He is so young, Charles. I did not want any scandal attached to him.”
Diana’s heart went out to the ailing woman. “So you hid the box in the window seat of your sitting room?”
Lady Marwick nodded. “I was afraid for my son and not certain I would live long enough to guide him.” She looked at her husband. “Can you ever forgive me, Charles?”
The earl’s face softened as he reached for his wife’s hand. “I understand, my dear. And, of course, I forgive you.”
Haverly grimaced as he sat up straight. “Now do you all agree with me that this matter should be put to rest? I will tell no one, if you set me free.”
“No,” Andrew said. “Not after what you did to Miss Harwood. And the trouble you’ve caused to everyone here, especially so close to Fanny and Bertie’s wedding. And,” he growled, “not now that we all know you never intended to return the vase.” He took a stop toward Haverly who seemed to cringe into the couch. “I’m right, aren’t I. You needed the vase to pay your debts. You only dared me to take it so you could throw off suspicion. And when Thorne was put on the case you had to bide your time. Isn’t that right, Haverly.”
“He should be thrashed.” Thorne’s bruised gaze narrowed on Haverly. “And I will be happy to do it myself.”
Oh, how she wished she knew what was in Thorne’s heart. She wanted to tend to his wounds and smooth the angry, weary lines from his face. But she couldn’t risk her own heart again, especially not for all to see. So she sat still in her chair, her hands folded in her lap, as a tempest raged inside of her.
“I will take the vase back to Lord Varney,” Andrew continued, “and confess. The consequences will be my own to bear, as they should have been from the beginning.”
Aunt Sterling and her sisters were sitting silent and wide-eyed on the sofa, their heads turning as each person spoke. And Diana knew from her aunt’s shocked expression that she’d have a lot of explaining to do.
Lord Marwick walked over to Diana and took her hand. “And we owe you our deepest apologies, Miss Harwood. You were quite innocent in all of this and treated in the most dastardly manner.” Then he turned and scowled at Haverly. “It’s time to have this man removed and taken to the authorities.”
“I will take him today,” Thorne volunteered. “Andrew can come with me and then we’ll travel to Lord Varney’s house in London. Perhaps I can help smooth the waters there.”
Diana’s heart sank. Thorne was leaving.
She barely heard the rest of the conversation as the ugly truth finally revealed itself. The odious Haverly and the sweet Lady Marwick had both been right—Thorne would never be interested in a girl like her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
One week later
Diana stood in the large ballroom at Marwick Manor and watched Bertie and Fanny lead off the first dance. The morning wedding ceremony had been even more lovely than Diana had imagined and her sister had been a beautiful bride.
An elaborate wedding breakfast had followed, and after letting the guests rest in the afternoon, the festivities now continued into the evening.
Diana stood at the far end of the ballroom, near a row of dowagers seated along the wall. The glow of happiness she saw on her sister’s face was one only true love could produce.
The day had been perfect in every way—except one, Diana acknowledged to herself. Lord Thorne had chosen not to return to Marwick Manor after his trip to London.
Andrew had explained that Thorne had last minute business that could not be delayed, but Diana believed she knew the true reason. He had completed his search for the missing vase and, despite his friendship with Bertie, knew how awkward his return to Marwick Manor would be for both of them.
According to Andrew, Thorne planned to make it back in time for the ceremony.
Diana had looked for him to arrive until the church doors had closed this morning, then admitted the truth to herself that she was unlikely to ever see him again.
The thought was bittersweet, especially on a day like this.
Tomorrow would begin a new chapter of her life, when she embarked on the first leg of her journey to India and her position with Mrs. Smithers Watson.
She breathed a wistful sigh, wondering if any adventure could ever compare to the one she'd shared with Thorne.
Music filled the air as more couples joined Fanny and Bertie for the second dance.
Then she saw Aunt Sterling approaching her with a wide smile and a second piece of wedding cake.
“Oh, I'm so happy, Diana. I cannot imagine a better husband for Fanny or a more perfect home for her than Marwick Manor.”
“I agree, Aunt. Lord and Lady Marwick showed their generous natures once again during the incident with the stolen vase. And they’ve eagerly welcomed Fanny as their daughter.”
Andrew had proven himself as well, Diana thought, with his confession and apology to Lord Varney. According to Andrew, Thorne had convinced Varney to let the matter go, and soon had the man cheerfully reminiscing about his own youthful antics.
Diana watched her aunt closely examine one of the candied violets on the cake, then realized she couldn’t just leave her a letter announcing she’d left for India. Not after everything Aunt Sterling had done for them.
“I have a confession of my own to make,” Diana said.
Aunt Sterling dropped the candied violet as a shadow of concern darkened her green eyes.
“My dear Diana,” Aunt Sterling said, leaning close enough for only the two of them to hear. “Lord Thorne is a very handsome, charming gentleman. If something of an intimate nature did occur between the two of you, then it’s best to lock it up in your heart and toss away the key.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “No one will be the wiser.”
Diana suppressed a smile, realizing how fortunate she and her sisters had been to have Aunt Sterling come into their lives when they’d needed her most. “Thank you, Aunt. I will do just that.”
“And I believe I will have just one more piece of cake,” Aunt Sterling said, scooping up the last crumbs on her plate until only the discarded candied violet remained. “In celebration, of course.”
As Diana watched her aunt move through the crowd, she realized she didn’t want to go to India anymore. Because her heart just wasn’t in it.
“Oh, there you are,” Louisa exclaimed, running up to her and gasping for breath. “It’s…so…warm in here, I’m glad…they’re finally opening…the doors to the terrace.”
“Stop talking and catch your breath,” Diana exclaimed with a laugh. “You’re going to need it for all your handsome dance partners.”
As usual, Louisa’s dance card had filled up quickly. And Captain Barrett kept hovering around her like a moth to a flame.
“You look so lovely,” Louisa mused, casting a glance over Diana’s
sapphire blue ball gown. “There is a gentleman here who wants to dance with you and I promised him….”
“Oh, no,” Diana said quickly. “Thank you, but I don’t care to dance. Besides, I’m sure your next partner is waiting.” She smiled as she backed away from Louisa’s extended hand. “Please believe me, Louisa, I am quite happy right where I am.”
Louisa hesitated for a moment, then her eyes lifted and a smile curved her mouth. “Very well, I’ll leave you right here.”
As her sister walked away, the musicians began to play a waltz. Then a voice behind Diana said, “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
She turned around and saw Thorne standing there, his blue eyes watching her carefully.
“Not properly introduced, that is,” he continued, with a short bow. “Colin Henry Lanford Sinclair, Marquess of Thorne, at your service.” Then he offered his hand. “May I have this dance, Miss Harwood?”
Without saying a word, she took his hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor. After telling herself she’d never see him again, Thorne was here and looking at her in a way that made her breath catch in her throat.
They began to dance, moving in perfect rhythm together and drawing a few admiring glances. But Diana didn’t think Lord Thorne noticed. He seemed to only have eyes for her.
“I am sorry you missed the wedding this morning,” Diana said, finally breaking the silence between them.
“So am I. But I arrived in time for the best part of the celebration. Dancing with you.”
She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks and just knew that those pink spots were appearing on her neck and décolletage. “It’s rather warm in here,” she said, hoping he didn’t notice. “Perhaps we should take a walk in the garden.”
He arched a brow and Diana wondered if she’d been too forward. She simply wanted the cover of darkness to hide the spots that were multiplying rapidly under his intense blue gaze.
“I’ll agree to your offer of a walk in a garden,” he said, “if we can go a little further.”
“How far?”
“I was thinking of Gretna Green.”
She blinked at him. “What?”
“I want to marry you, Miss Harwood. In fact, I can think of nothing I want more. We can elope tonight. I have a carriage waiting and have made all the arrangements. That’s what kept me away for so long.”
Diana felt a little dizzy, either from the waltz or the way Thorne was making her head spin with his shocking proposal. “But we’ve just recently met and….”
“We could wait and I could court you for the proper amount of time,” he admitted, “but I’m madly in love with you, Diana. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t think of anything or anyone but you. It’s taking all my willpower not to sweep you up in my arms right now and carry you off the dance floor.”
Now it was Diana’s turn to feel breathless. When she’d recovered enough to speak, she said, “Lord Thorne, before I can agree to marry you, I have two conditions.”
A curious gleam lit his eyes. “Yes?”
“I rather enjoyed our search for the stolen vase, so my first condition is that I want to be included on all your future treasure hunts.”
“I would insist upon it.” The gleam turned into a twinkle of amusement. “And the second condition?”
“That you must kiss me once a day,” she whispered, “the same way you kissed me the night we first met.”
His arm tightened around her as his voice grew husky. “Believe me, my dear Miss Harwood, I will be kissing you like that more than once a day.”
“My dear Lord Thorne,” she said with a smile, “I would insist upon it.”
“Then let’s be on our way before we cause another scandal.”
He led her off the dance floor and toward the open terrace doors. “I have already asked your aunt’s permission for your hand in marriage,” he told her. “She gave it readily, and seemed rather relieved.”
Diana laughed as pure joy filled her heart. “I am certain she is.” Then she and Thorne walked out to the garden, her hand in his.
And when he finally took her in his arms and kissed her, she heard music playing and knew the best dance of her life was just about to begin.
About Kristin Gabriel
Kristin Gabriel is the author of 24 romance novels with over a million copies sold worldwide. She is a two-time RITA winner, the 1999 RITA® in the Traditional category for Monday Man and the 2000 RITA® in the Traditional category for Annie, Get Your Groom. Gabriel's debut novel Bullets Over Boise was made into a television movie called Recipe For Revenge. She is also the author of 21 cozy mysteries written under the name Kristin Eckhardt.
Visit Kristin’s website
Kristin’s Author Page on Amazon
Books by Kristin Gabriel
Propositioned? (The Wrong Bed Book 22)
Accidental Family (Cooper's Corner)
Send Me No Flowers
Third Time's The Charm
Bullets over Boise
Strangers In The Night (The Wrong Bed)
Fugitive Fiancee (Maitland Maternity)
Duets #27 (Bachelor By Design/Too Hot For Comfort)
Sheerly Irresistible (Single in the City)
Duets # 29 (Beauty And The Bachelor/Counterfeit Daddy)
Good Night, Gracie (The Wrong Bed Book 24)
It Happened One Weekend (Heart of the West)
Unbound
Operation Babe-Magnet / Operation Beauty
Engaging Alex (Single in the City)
Dangerously Irresistible (Mail Order Men)
Fugitive Fiancee (Maitland Maternity Quartet #4) (Silhouette Special Edition)
Seduced in Seattle (Single in the City)
Night After Night... (The Wrong Bed Book 32)
Duets # 25 (The Bachelor Trap/Custom Built Cowboy)
MOVIE
Recipe for Revenge
ONE DUKE OR ANOTHER by Ella Quinn
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including, but not limited to, xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
DEDICATION
To my granddaughters, Josephine and Vivienne. You are the lights of my life.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
For any book to come together it takes a team. My thanks to my friend, Jenna Jaxon, and my lovely mother-in-law, Margaret Baker, for beta reading One Duke or Another, and to Doreen Knight who corrects all my Americanisms and other sundry problems. A special thank you to Ann Marie Friedenberg for Oberon, the name of Guy’s horse and to Candace Nagy and Charlene Whitehouse for finding the post with the name when I could not!
Thanks also to my editor Louisa Cornell for making the book shine, and to my fellow authors for coming together for this project.
Last, but certainly not least, to you, my readers who make this all worthwhile! I hope you love Laia and Guy’s story!
CHAPTER ONE
The seventh of June, 1818
My dear Somerset,
As you may have heard, my wife had an unfortunate illness and passed away several months ago, leaving me as childless as I was before.
I understand that your eldest daughter is of an age to wed. I would be pleased if you would consider a union between our two families.
Yr servant,
Bolton
The tenth of June, 1818
My dear Bolton,
You are correct in your understanding. My eldest daughter, Aglaia, is of an age to be married. Her mother, my duchess, is a good breed
er. There is no reason she should disappoint you with regard to an heir.
She will bring a sufficient dowry. However, I should like the title to the land you own that marches with my estate near Bath.
Yr servant,
Somerset
The thirteenth of June, 1818
My dear Somerset,
Consider it done. If you send me your requirements, I shall have my solicitor look them over.
I would like the ceremony to be at the end of July.
Yr servant,
Bolton
. . .
Lady Aglaia Trevor, eldest daughter of the Duke of Somerset, entered her father’s study and stood in front of the large, elegant walnut burl desk. Her hands clasped, she surreptitiously took in the room she hardly ever saw as she waited for him to acknowledge her presence.
The study itself wasn’t particularly large. Not like the drawing rooms or even the morning room. It was, however, as elegant and cold as her father.
Ornate plaster gilded in silver surrounded colorful paintings of mythological scenes. The walls were lined with grayish-blue silk in a subtle stripe of the same color. One crystal chandelier hung in the center of the room directly behind her. Heavy, light-blue velvet curtains with silver trim framed the many windows in the room. All but the curtains directly behind the duke were open, allowing the sun to shine through. Unlike in the cozy morning room, no cat lazed in the sun’s path along the Turkey carpets in light blue and cream. No dust moats dared invade the space.
Laia knew better than to speak. That would only bring a sharp rebuke. Instead she studied the man himself. Even though he was past seventy, he was still tall and broad shouldered. A trait he had passed down to all of her brothers. Most of them, though, had not inherited his blade-like nose. None of them, thankfully, had his testy temperament.