by Diane Gaston
She returned his smile. ‘And I suspect Penny will be at his side.’
Leo still had not settled with Mariel whether she would marry him. There were no real impediments now. His business ventures would now be ones he could shout from rooftops, if necessary. He would accept the help his brothers could provide. If a duke, an earl and a second son rallied around him, who would dare consider him scandalous? He’d had enough of danger and the only risks he was willing to take now were financial ones.
And emotional ones. He would risk loving again. He loved Mariel and would do whatever he could to see that she was happy. If that meant marrying him, his spirits would soar to the heavens. If not, he would find some other way to ensure her happiness.
She rested her head against his shoulder. ‘I am still trying to believe that it is all over. What will happen to Kellford, do you think?’
‘He left the church in the company of some hard-looking men. I suspect the money lenders will lose no time in stripping his house of its belongings. If Kellford is lucky, he will be left with his life and little else.’
Likely Kellford would flee to the Continent to escape the rest of his creditors. It was not punishment enough for him, in Leo’s view, but at least they would not have to set eyes on him again.
Mariel stroked his hand. ‘What Kellford has done will certainly be the topic of much gossip. I am sure some disfavour will fall on my family. I wonder if it will be enough to compel my father to change his ways?’
He threaded his fingers through hers, glad to be able to touch her, to know she was now safe. ‘I suspect Brenner is concocting some plan between your father and his cousin to keep your father in check.’
She raised their entwined hands to her lips and kissed his fingers. ‘I still do not see how you convinced Doring to forgive my father. My father insisted he would be full of wrath.’
‘He was,’ Leo responded. ‘He was precisely as your father depicted him and I thought I had made a terrible miscalculation by going to him.’
‘Miscalculation?’ she asked.
He looked into her lovely eyes. ‘I thought I would become the cause of your father hanging. I thought you would never forgive me.’ It had been a painfully low point.
Her gaze softened. ‘I still do not understand how you convinced him.’
He’d remembered Stephen muttering that Doring cared more for his horses than his family. That was the key. Leo offered him the breeding pair of horses from Stephen’s stables and suddenly Doring was willing to forgive all.
Leo glanced around the room at his brothers. He could not have saved Mariel without them. Nicholas, as only a duke could do, had provided clout. Stephen had provided the solution. And now Brenner would seal the pact and prevent future problems. He said a silent prayer of thanks for giving him this family. This woman he loved.
‘How did you convince Doring, Leo?’ Mariel asked.
He grinned at her. ‘Horses, Mariel.’ He leaned down and kissed her. ‘Horses,’ he whispered.
Epilogue
Welbourne Manor—October 1830
The house party at Welbourne Manor was not unlike those held there when Leo and his siblings were growing up. Small children ran through the house, chased by haggard governesses. Older ones brought in dirt from the gardens or played rowdy games in the upstairs music room. As in days gone by, there was plenty of noise, the noise of a family party.
Leo and Mariel had invited the entire Fitzmanning Miscellany for several days of family enjoyment after the christening of their newborn son, John, named after Leo’s father. Welbourne Manor was Leo and Mariel’s home now and had been for two years, a wedding present from Leo’s brothers and sisters, a return to their father’s original bequest.
At the moment, Leo and his brothers were in the library, hiding from the children. Walker had arrived, providing them a great excuse to avoid the commotion. Walker and Penny brought two more toddlers with them, their twins, now just over a year old, their contribution to the din.
‘What did you find in Liverpool?’ Leo asked Walker as soon as the men all had drinks in their hands.
Leo and Walker were now partners. Their ship had come in from that not-quite-legal investment they’d made two years before, the one that had brought Leo back to London and to Mariel. By mutual agreement, they’d decided to remain within the law afterwards. That decision had not hampered them.
‘The railroad is a marvel,’ Walker told them. He had travelled to Liverpool to see first-hand how the new Liverpool and Manchester railways operated. ‘It can move thousands of people, carry the mail, as well as goods.’
‘Are you and Walker going to invest in railroads?’ Nicholas asked.
‘We have already, your Grace,’ Walker said. ‘We are looking to develop rail transport from London west.’
Stephen’s brows rose. ‘This is a far cry from raising horses.’
‘I have no wish to compete with you, Stephen,’ Leo remarked. ‘Think of it this way. Railroads can bring more people to the races. There’s money in this for you.’
Brenner spoke seriously. ‘Do not sink everything into railroads. It is always better to invest in several opportunities. That way if one investment loses, you still make money on the other.’
‘Spoken like the wise elder brother!’ Leo laughed.
Walker provided more details, speaking so knowledgeably that one would never have guessed he once had been a thief and a valet. When Walker had left Leo’s service, the man who had once been Kellford’s valet took his place. Penny said he looked more like a valet than Walker.
Mariel knocked at the door. ‘Leo, may I see you, please?’
He went to her immediately. ‘What is it?’
‘I need you to come to the nursery.’ She gestured for him to come with her.
Leo’s worries grew. It was not like her to interrupt like this.
Instead of the children’s wing, though, she led him to their bedchamber.
‘I moved the crib in here temporarily, because the nursery is so full,’ she explained.
Indeed, it had been quite a challenge to figure out the sleeping arrangements for so many children, their nurses and governesses.
‘Is something wrong with the baby?’ He hurried over to the crib.
She joined him, looking down at the sleeping infant, this miracle they’d created together.
The baby slept peacefully.
She put her arm around Leo’s waist. ‘Nothing’s wrong. The baby is perfect, as always. There never was a more perfect baby. I merely wanted an excuse to be with you.’
The sounds of children shrieking, their feet pounding through the halls, reached his ears. A new Fitzmanning Miscellany, Leo thought, smiling to himself.
He remembered running with his brothers and sisters through these rooms. How many priceless vases had they knocked over? Suffered how many scraped knees? It has been a happy place. He’d continue to make Welbourne Manor a happy place. How could it be anything but happy when Mariel was at his side?
‘I’ve hardly seen you since the christening.’ She sighed.
He wrapped his arms around her, realising he had missed her equally as much. ‘Were you worried that I’d run away to the Continent?’
Something crashed and shattered. A child began to wail and soon adult footsteps could be heard running to see what had happened.
She settled against his chest where she fit so perfectly. ‘With all the noise and commotion, I would not blame you.’
He broke away from her so he could look down into her eyes. ‘I would not leave you.’
She smiled. ‘Not even if someone told you I’d fallen for an earl?’
‘Especially not then.’ He grinned. ‘Or, at least, I would chase you down and make you explain why you would ever do such a thing.’
&nb
sp; She laughed. ‘Very good, Leo! You have learned something.’
He kissed her. ‘The most important thing I’ve learned is that I love you. I will never leave you.’
She kissed him back. ‘I know.’
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt of My Fair Concubine by Jeannie Lin!
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Chapter One
China, Tang Dynasty—AD 824
Fei Long faced the last room at the end of the narrow hallway, unsheathed his sword and kicked the door open.
A feminine shriek pierced the air along with the frantic shuffle of feet as he strode through the entrance. The boarding room was a small one set above the teahouse below. The inhabitants, a man and a woman, flung themselves into the corner with nowhere to hide.
His gaze fixed on to the woman first. His sister’s hair was unbound and her eyes wide with fear. Pearl had their mother’s thoughtful features: the high forehead and the sharp angles that had softened since the last time he’d seen her. She was dressed only in pale linen underclothes. The man who was with her had enough daring to step in between them.
Fei Long glanced once to the single wooden bed against one wall, the covers strewn wide, and his vision blurred with anger. He gripped the sword until his knuckles nearly cracked with the strain.
‘Bastard,’ he gritted out through his teeth.
He knew this man he’d come to kill. This boy. At least Han had been a boy when Fei Long had last seen him. And Pearl had been a mere girl. Now she was a grown woman, staring at him as if he were a demon risen from the underworld.
‘Fei Long.’ Pearl’s fingers curled tight over her lover’s arm. ‘So now you’ve come.’
The soft bitterness of the accusation cut through him. Pearl had begged for him to come back a year earlier when her marriage had first been arranged, but he’d dismissed her letters as childish ramblings. If he had listened, she might not have thrown herself into ruin and their father’s spirit wouldn’t be floating restlessly between heaven and earth.
The young man stretched himself before Fei Long, though he failed to match him in stature. ‘Not in front of Pearl,’ he implored.
Though he trembled, the boy fought to keep his voice steady as Pearl clung to him, hiding just behind his shoulder. At least the dog managed to summon some courage. If Han had cowered or begged for his life, he would already be dead.
‘Step away, Little Sister,’ Fei Long commanded.
‘No.’
‘Pearl.’
‘I’d rather die here with Han than go to Khitan.’
She’d changed in the five years since he’d seen her. The Pearl he remembered had been obedient, sweet-tempered and pleasant in all things. Fei Long had ridden hard from Changan to this remote province, expecting to find the son of a dog who had stolen her away.
Now that she stood before him with quiet defiance, he knew she hadn’t been seduced or deceived. Zheng Xie Han’s family lived within their ward in the capital city. Though lower in standing, the Zheng family had always maintained a good reputation. His sister had turned to Han because she’d had no one else.
The tension drained out of Fei Long, stealing away his rage. His throat pulled tight as he forced out the next word. ‘Go.’
The two of them stared at him in disbelief.
‘Go,’ he repeated roughly.
Fei Long lowered his weapon and turned away while they dressed themselves. Shoving his sword back into its sheath, he faced the bare wall. He could hear the shuffle of movement behind him as the couple gathered their belongings.
The bleakness of the last few weeks settled into his gut like a stone. When he’d left for his assignment to the north-western garrison, Fei Long had believed his home to be a harmonious place. Upon news of his father’s sudden death, he’d returned to find his sister gone and debt collectors circling the front gates like vultures.
His father’s presence had been an elaborate screen, hiding the decay beneath the lacquered surface of their lives. Fei Long now saw Pearl’s arranged marriage for what it was: a desperate ploy to restore the family honour—or rather to prolong the illusion of respectability.
When he turned again, Pearl and Han stood watching him tentatively. Each of them had a pack slung around their shoulder. Off to face the horizon with all their belongings stowed in two small bags.
Han bowed once. ‘Elder Brother.’
The young man risked Fei Long’s temper to deliver the honorific. Fei Long couldn’t bring himself to return the bow. Pearl met his eyes as they started for the door. The heaviness of her expression struck him like a physical blow.
This was the last time he would ever see his sister.
Fei Long took his money pouch from his belt and held it out. The handful of coppers rattled inside. ‘Here.’
Han didn’t look at him as he took it.
‘Thank you, Fei Long,’ Pearl whispered.
They didn’t embrace. The two of them had been apart for so long that they wouldn’t have known how. Fei Long watched their backs as they retreated down the stairway; gone like everything else he had once known to be true.
* * *
‘Jilted lover,’ the cook guessed.
Yan Ling’s eyes grew wide. The stranger had stormed up the staircase only moments earlier with a sword strapped to his side and the glint of murder in his deep-set eyes. She’d leapt out of the path of his charge, just managing to hold on to her pot of tea without spilling a drop.
She stood at the edge of the main room, head cocked to listen for sounds of mayhem upstairs. Her heart raced as she gripped the handle of the teapot. Such violence and scandal were unthinkable in their quiet town.
‘Should someone stop him?’ she asked.
‘What? You saw how he was dressed.’ Old Cook had his feet in the kitchen, but the rest of him strained as far into the dining area as possible. ‘A man like that can do whatever he wants.’
‘Get back to work,’ the proprietor barked.
Yan Ling jumped and the cook ducked his head back through the beaded curtain that separated the main room from the kitchen.
‘Worthless girl,’ her master muttered as she rushed the pot of tea to its intended table. She pressed her fingers against the ceramic to check the temperature of the pot before setting it down. Cooler than ideal, but still hot enough to not get any complaints.
It was late in the morning and the patrons had thinned, but that was never an excuse to move any slower. Lately it seemed nothing she did was fast
or efficient enough. She’d never known any life but the teahouse. The story was she’d been abandoned as an infant in the room upstairs, likely the very same one where a new scandal was now unfolding.
She paused to stack empty cups onto a tray. At that moment, the young woman and her companion hurried down the stairs, leaving not even a farewell behind as they swept out the door. Yan Ling expected the sword-carrying nobleman to come chasing after them, but only an uncomfortable silence followed their exit.
The patrons began to whisper among themselves. Her master should be happy. This incident would have the townsfolk lingering over more than a few extra teapots worth of gossip.
When he finally emerged, the gentleman appeared surprisingly calm. He descended the stairs with a steady, powerful stride and his expression was as still as the surface of the moon. Instead of leaving, he marched directly over to the proprietor and flashed an official-looking jade seal. At that point, even the proprietor’s wife flocked over to welcome him. They ushered him to an empty table at the centre of the room, nearly breaking their backs bowing with such enthusiasm. Her master shot Yan Ling a sharp look, which she understood immediately. Bring tea and fast. She rushed to the kitchen.
‘Is there a lot of blood?’ the kitchen boy asked as she pushed through the curtain.
‘Shush.’
She poured hot water over a fresh pot of leaves and flew back out with her hand around the bamboo handle. Back out in the main room, the stranger didn’t even spare her a glance as she poured the first cup for him.
His robe was of fine woven silk and richly dyed in a dark blue. He wore his thick hair long, the front of it pulled back into a knot in the style of aristocracy. She was stricken by the strength of his features: the hard line of his cheekbones and the broad shape of his face, which narrowed slightly at the chin.