by Joyce Alec
Lady Hewson glared at him for a moment longer before giving him a tight smile and resuming her seat. Catherine laughed quietly to herself as she got up to tug the bell pull for tea.
“If you do not mind,” Linton interjected hastily, “I wondered if you might like to take a turn around the gardens, Kitty?”
Catherine paused, her hand freezing as it neared the bell pull. “You want to walk with me?”
“I do,” he replied, a slight twinkle in his eye. “Is that all right? I thought it might be nice if we had a few minutes to talk.”
“You can talk here!” her mother interrupted, looking as though she were about to disagree with every single thing Linton would say. “There is no reason you cannot speak freely in my presence.”
Catherine moved away from the bell pull, bent down to kiss her mother’s cheek, and stepped towards the door. “A walk in the gardens sounds quite wonderful,” she said, ignoring her mother’s hiss of discouragement. She had dealt with more than enough of Lady Hewson’s frank speech that afternoon, and a walk with Linton might be just the thing to give her a little relief.
“Wonderful!” Linton boomed, walking across the room to meet her. “I shall not be too long. Mayhap we can have tea with your mother once we return?”
“A very good idea,” Catherine declared, laughing at the look of relief on Linton’s face as they quit the room. “We will not be long, Mama!” she called as they began to walk along the corridor. Once they stepped outside, she turned to Linton. “I am sorry for my mother’s behavior towards you. She does not trust you still, I am afraid.”
Linton shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips. “I have no doubt that she cares for you a very great deal. I do not hold her attitude towards me against her.”
“Then you are very good,” Catherine declared with a quick laugh. “She has been most trying the last few days. She intends to put me off our nuptials, I am quite sure of it!” She squeezed his arm gently. “As I said, she is having a somewhat difficult time trusting you.”
He looked at her for a moment as they walked, his gaze concentrated on her face. “And do you trust me?”
Catherine paused in her steps, caught by the intensity of his gaze and the seriousness of his question. “Of course I do,” she answered. “I would have thought it would have been more than apparent as of late.”
“It is,” he said fervently, turning to face her a little more. “I suppose I just wanted to hear it from your lips. I cannot explain it even to myself, but something about you drives me to become the man you deserve.”
Catherine caught her breath as the warmth in his eyes grew, and then she turned herself back towards the path and began to stride away. She was too confused to speak, her stomach filled with fluttering butterflies as she moved away from him.
“Kitty!” Lord Linton called, catching her arm. “Is something the matter?”
Catherine found herself breathless as she turned back to face him, unsure of what to say.
“You are worrying me now,” he said, his expression concerned. “You are not having second thoughts, I hope?”
“No, no, nothing of the sort!” Catherine exclaimed, shaking her head. “You need not worry yourself on that account.”
“Need I not?” he asked, his voice a little softer as he drew closer to her. “Then, are you going to tell me what is on your mind?”
Pursing her lips, Catherine struggled in vain to think of what to say, her thoughts more jumbled than ever. “I am quite all right.”
“No, you are not,” he protested. “You forget just how well I know you. Come now, be honest with me. Whatever it is, I want to know.” He smiled gently at her. “Mayhap I can help you.”
Groaning, Catherine shook her head and stepped away from him again. “Please, Linton, do not press me so.”
A light seemed to burn in his eyes, but he remained silent, taking her hand in his own and beginning to walk slowly amongst the garden shrubs.
“This is a beautiful garden, I must say,” he commented, turning the subject away from her entirely. “When we are wed, I thought to move back to my country estate.”
“Really?” Catherine breathed, surprised.
“Of course!” he replied, his eyes still twinkling at her. “I know just how much you love the countryside.”
It was true, of course. While Catherine did enjoy the hubbub of the town, nothing quite compared to the quiet loveliness of the country.
“I thought you might also like to be close to your parents,” he continued, surprising her still further. “Given that my estate borders your father’s, it means that we will be close to them and able to see them whenever you wish it.”
“Oh, Linton!” Catherine whispered, her eyes blurring with sudden tears. “I can hardly believe it!”
He chuckled, pressing her hand a little. “No doubt you thought I would wish to remain in the town, close to the things I love.”
“I did,” Catherine admitted, brushing away her tears with her fingers. “I even said so to Mama. I thought you would wish to remain where all the excitement can be found.”
Linton shook his head, his eyes serious. “No, Kitty. I chose you, which means I chose to live in a way that would please you. And, for what it is worth, I do not believe living in the country to be any kind of penalty. I think that life will be quite exciting enough with you by my side.” Seeing a small path leading between various rosebushes, Linton led her in that direction, and the air was soon filled with beautiful scents.
“Does it please you?” Linton asked, stopping her in their walk and turning her so that she had no choice but to look into his eyes. His eyes searched hers, a small line of worry creasing his forehead.
“Does it please me that you are doing whatever you can to make me happy?” Catherine asked, astonished that he would worry about such matters. “Of course it does! It does surprise me, yes, but I am more than delighted to know that we will be living so close to my parents. I had not considered until earlier today just how much I would miss them.”
Linton smiled, the worry gone from his expression in a moment. “I am glad to hear it,” he said. “I do not want you to ever doubt the affection I have for you.”
Catherine followed his hand with her eyes, her fingers suddenly itching to be where his were, delving into the thick locks of his brown hair. Heat rushed into her cheeks at the thought, her heart beating almost painfully as he moved closer to her, his hands now resting gently around her waist.
“I must be honest with you,” he continued, his voice quiet. “I want you to know how I feel before we go into the church to become man and wife.”
“Speak freely, please,” Catherine replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as she could despite the hurrying of her heart. She looked up into his face inquiringly, wondering to herself when he had become so handsome.
“I love you, Kitty.”
Her world stopped turning at his words. Stars began to sparkle in her vision as she saw the earnestness in his expression, becoming painfully aware that her feelings went in much the same direction.
“I believe I have loved you all my life,” he went on, his hands now a little tighter around her waist. “I threw myself into all these vices, trying to drown out your quiet voice in my head, trying to kill the love I held for you in my heart, but it has proved entirely impossible.” Dropping his head, Catherine saw Linton’s gaze move to her lips before returning to her eyes once more. “I can only apologize for all the hurt and pain I have caused you, and I promise you that, from this day forward, I will love you with all that I have, never preventing myself from feeling such a way as I have done in the past.”
Letting out a long breath, Catherine closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself.
“Kitty?” he asked, the quietness in his voice replaced with concern. “Have I upset you?”
“Upset me!” she exclaimed, her eyes opening at once. “No, you have not. It is just that I have been tormented in much the same way.”
“I cannot say when this came about, and it certainly has not been as of long standing as your own feelings,” Catherine admitted, a sense of peace washing over her, “but I have to confess that I think I love you in return.” It was as though saying it aloud, even to herself, brought about a deep relief.
“I see,” Linton replied hoarsely. “I cannot believe this. I…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I never thought this would happen to me. I feel as though I am not worthy of you.”
“You are proving yourself worthy with every day that passes,” Catherine whispered, boldly stepping forward and putting her arms around his neck, her fingers threading into his hair. “You are not to torment yourself with such a thought any longer. You wish to make me happy, and I find that I wish to do the same for you. I know now that our marriage will be one filled with all the love and affection I once longed for.”
Catherine saw him swallow once, twice, before his eyes closed and he held her tightly. She rested her head on his shoulder, peace running through her. This was where she was meant to be. This was where she belonged.
“I love you, Kitty,” Linton murmured, his lips searching for hers.
Catherine smiled gently, ready to close the distance between them. “And I love you, Linton,” she murmured, just as she pressed her lips to his.
***
THE END
(Keep reading for bonus romance stories)
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About the Author
Joyce Alec grew up in Colorado and graduated from college with a degree in business. After developing a passion for books, she spent countless hours reading a variety of genres, but fell in love with sweet, historical romances. Joyce’s passion for reading eventually cultivated into a love for writing, so creating Regency-era tales of love is a dream come true for her.
After planting her roots in Florida, Joyce found another passion: the ocean! In her free time, you can find Joyce at the beach with a big floppy hat, flip-flops, and a vanilla iced coffee in hand. She lives in the Sunshine State with her prince charming and wildly vivacious son.
Bonus Stories – Regency Dukes
Secrets of the Duke’s Heart
Text Copyright © 2016 by Caroline Johnson
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
First printing, 2016
Publisher
Love Light Faith, LLC
400 NW 7th Avenue, Unit 825
Fort Lauderdale, FL 33302
www.LoveLightFaith.com
Secrets of the Duke’s Heart
By: Caroline Johnson
Secrets of the Dukes Heart
Chapter One
London, England, 1852
Emma hummed as she flipped the sign on the door over from 'shut' to 'open.' She loved coming to work every day, especially since Carter's bookstore was now hers alone. The scent of books, along with the lemon oil she used to keep the shelves shiny soothed her as if it were a fine perfume. She'd worked side by side with her father for years, and he managed to teach her every aspect of the business before the good Lord took him away, leaving the shop for her to run. So far, she'd been successful at keeping a roof over their heads, and providing enough of an income for herself and her mother to get by.
To keep their modest lifestyle, she needed to sell at least twenty books each month. So far this month, she had made it to seventeen. A quick glance at the calendar assured her she still had a few days left to make up the difference. She progressed to the rear of the little store, turning on the Argand oil lamps as she wended her way through the familiar aisles. She had purchased a fair number of books yesterday at auction and needed to sort through them and assign a price to each before placing them on the shelves.
She had just picked up the first book when the little bell over the door rang, signifying a customer. Emma glanced up and stared at a man she knew well. At least by name and reputation. Whatever was the Duke of Ravenswood doing in her little shop?
She took a steadying breath before she stepped forward. "Good morning, Your Grace. You are out and about quite early this morning. May I help you find something?"
His intelligent brown eyes raked over her, and he brushed away the lock of dark hair that had fallen over his forehead when he doffed his hat. Emma's skin prickled at the intensity of his gaze and her mouth suddenly went dry. The Duke of Ravenswood was, if the scandal sheets could be believed, a rake and a scoundrel, bedding every woman in his path and often not rising until nightfall to hunt for the next woman to fall victim to his charms.
He blinked, as if coming out of a trance, and cleared his throat. "Yes, you may, Miss...?"
Emma extended a hand to him. "Emma Carter, Your Grace, proprietor of this shop."
He took hold of her hand and leaned over it, brushing his lips against her fingers. Then, he straightened and stared deep into her eyes. "It's lovely to meet your acquaintance, Emma Carter. Is it Miss Carter, or Mrs.?"
"Miss Carter is fine." She found her voice again.
"I'm Paul Beckinsale. You can possibly save my skin today." His voice was a deep baritone and reminded her of fine whiskey.
She stumbled over her words as he finally relinquished her hand. "How...how might I do so, Sir? I mean, Your Grace. What in particular are you searching for?"
"I'm here to purchase a gift for the only woman I'd get out of bed before three in the afternoon for." He grinned at her, and Emma's knees threatened to buckle. The man had certainly earned his reputation, since even she was not immune to his striking good looks and his magnetic personality.
"And who might this lucky lady be?" She closed her eyes momentarily, mentally kicking herself for asking such a forward question.
He laughed, the deep sound sending shivers throughout her body. "It's not at all what you think. I need a gift for my mother."
Paul nearly laughed again as he caught the play of emotions on Emma Carter's face. What did she think? It seemed his mere presence made her jittery. His reputation preceded him into every drawing room in London, so he should not be surprised that it preceded him into this little bookstore, with its dusty labyrinth of aisles and books stacked every which way.
His gaze fell to her lips as she took a deep breath. Beautiful lips, he had to admit. There was something different about this one. The way she carried herself. Her smile. The way the light from the lamp reflected off of her hair.
She glanced up at him; her blue eyes grazed over his face before she quickly lowered her gaze and became enamored with the knot in the floorboard beneath their feet. "I have a collection of books that appeal to the ladies over here." She pointed a finger to the far wall and took a step forward.
He reached out a hand and laid it on her arm. Her body went ri
gid, and she stopped, glancing at him questionably. She gently removed his hand and gave him a warning look.
"What appeals to most ladies is mundane to my mother." He flashed his trademark grin at her, knowing the dimples in his cheeks would emerge. "She wants The String of Pearls in its entirety. I've been told if any bookstore in town has the complete eighteen-part story, it would be you."
Her gasp was audible, but he couldn't tell if it was a reaction to his dimples or the subject matter that enthralled his mother.
"Sweeney Todd?" she squeaked. He had his answer. She was immune to his dimples, it seemed. The first lady in a long time not to swoon when he flashed his grin. Miss Emma Carter presented a challenge, and he was ready to play this game. He shifted his eyes away from her. His immediate knee-jerk reaction to make her a conquest was nothing more than being momentarily mesmerized by her rosy lips, which reminded him of raspberries. And her large, expressive blue eyes. Her obvious intelligence was a refreshing change, as well.
But she was no trifle to be toyed with and then gently set aside when he tired of her. Trifles were the only type of woman he deserved, the only type he desired. He did not want to have Emma Carter as his next fallen woman. His behavior was reprehensible, and he had best finish his business and leave, before he lost his better sense.
"Yes, Sweeney Todd. My mother has very eclectic tastes. Do you have it? All eighteen parts? She doesn't want me to scurry all over town searching for the remainder of the story while she waits with baited breath for a climactic scene." He smiled at her again.