by Candice Hern
She blinked owlishly. "I beg your pardon?"
"You are an heiress," he repeated, still chuckling. "A very rich woman."
"I-I don't understand. I haven't a sou, as you well know, except for the generous salary your grandmother pays me. And I intend to use most of that to repay her for all the clothes and other things she has bought me for this stay in London."
"My dear girl, you may more than pay her back. I meant it when I said you were an heiress. You see, it seems your grandfather decided to acknowledge you after all and left you a sizable inheritance."
"My grandfather?" She shook her head, not fully comprehending. "But—"
"He left you with a sum to be used as a marriage settlement. But your uncle, may he rot in hell, claimed he was unable to locate you. He has been living off your inheritance for the last five years."
"I can't believe it! How did you discover all this?"
Robert told her of his initial suspicions, of Huntspill's investigation and the recovery of her grandfather's will. He also told of his confrontation with Lord Pentwick, omitting several of the less pleasant details.
"As you were now becoming known in Society," he continued, "it became more difficult for Pentwick to pretend ignorance of your whereabouts. I believe his intent initially was to cause you such public embarrassment that you would retreat once again into the country, away from the prying eyes of the ton. He had not counted on Grandmother, Louisa, myself, and others rallying to your defense, however." He bent down and kissed her gently.
"I suspect," he said, "that Pentwick decided to change tactics and have his own son marry you in order to get, or rather to keep, his hands on your money."
"So that's why Cousin Hugh was forever at my side."
"Indeed. And when you showed no interest, you made it necessary for him to take more drastic measures. My meeting with Pentwick this afternoon only made it more urgent to act quickly."
"Oh, but this is monstrous!" Emily cried. "He knew I would never consent to marry him and so he set out to... to ..."
Robert gathered her close. "Yes, I'm afraid his intentions were less than honorable, my love."
"Oh, Robert," Emily said as she pressed her cheek against his shoulder, "thank goodness you came after me. I could not have borne it if... I don't know what I would have done if..." She chewed on her lower lip, attempting to hold back tears.
"Hush, love, everything is all right now." He bent down and brushed his lips against her cheek. "But I shall never forgive Faversham—or Pentwick—for tonight's sorry business."
"No," she said, "and I hope never to set eyes on either of them again. The hateful beasts!"
"And not only for tonight does Pentwick earn my wrath," Robert said, "but for all those years that you were left to struggle, forced to take employment, to be little better than a servant, when—"
"No, no, Robert," she interrupted, tilting her head to look up at him, "I shall never regret my years of service. If I had not been in service, I would never have met you."
He leaned his forehead against hers. "I suppose I am obliged to thank Pentwick, then, for allowing you to brighten my life. I shall have to remember that whenever I feel the need to throttle him. Nevertheless, I cannot but hope that the man disappears after turning over to you the thirty thousand pounds."
Emily stiffened and pulled back. "What did you say?"
"I said that I hope he disappears—"
"Not that part! Something about"—she swallowed—"thirty ..."
"Thirty thousand pounds." He grinned. "Had I failed to mention the amount?"
"I am to have thirty ... thousand ... pounds?"
Robert nodded, and she fell back against him, shaking her head in disbelief. "But this is incredible!"
He laughed and said, "I did say you were an heiress, did I not?'
"Indeed you did." Emily was thoughtful for a moment, then bit back a smile. "And now suddenly it all makes sense to me. You wish to marry me for my money."
"The devil you say!"
"Admit it, my lord," she said, "you never had the least interest in me until you discovered I was an heiress."
"But—"
"There's no sense in denying it, my lord. I shall not be so easily manipulated, however. Now that I am a rich woman I believe I should wait to see what other gentlemen may come forward." She could no longer hold back a smile. "I imagine I could have my pick of the lot."
"I'm afraid not, my dear," Robert said. "You see, I have already told Sedgewick that I would kill him before I let him marry you."
"You didn't!"
"I did. And I will similarly challenge any other gentleman who attempts to take you away from me."
"You will?"
"I will. I'm not letting you go, Emily," he said, crushing her against him, "now that I've finally got you."
"That sounds perfectly wonderful to me, my lord."
Robert dropped the reins and took her in both his arms and kissed her soundly.
The horse, with no one guiding him, ambled toward the side of the road and came to a complete stop while he investigated a nearby berry bush. It was some time before his passengers decided to continue their journey.
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More Regency Romances from Candice Hern
Don't miss Black Jack's story in A Change of Heart, and Lord Sedgewick's story in An Affair of Honor, both available from any online e-book retailer.
Here's an excerpt from A Change of Heart:
Jack Raeburn, Marquess of Pemerton, raised his quizzing glass and studied the young girl dancing with Lord Grayston. He leaned negligently against a pillar, half hidden by an extravagant floral arrangement, as he eyed the girl up and down. Miss Pettibone was very fair with masses of blond ringlets and huge blue eyes that gazed up in awe at her noble partner. She was a pretty little thing, Jack decided, as she shyly smiled up at Grayston. He was enjoying a clear view of her full, white bosom rising up and down with the exertion of the country dance when he suddenly felt a presence at his side.
Dropping his quizzing glass, he looked over and then down at the tiny woman who stood next to him. How long had she been there, he wondered? She was also looking intently at Miss Pettibone. But then she turned to look up at Jack, wrinkled her nose behind the screen of her open fan, and shook her head. Jack glared down at her and quirked a brow.
"Too young," she whispered, still shaking her head.
Jack choked on a hastily suppressed snort of laughter as he watched her eyes move back toward the dance floor. Who was this woman? She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place her. She was not young, but not precisely old either. Though small, she was nicely rounded in all the right places, he was quick to note. She had ordinary brown hair, a too wide mouth, and a slightly crooked nose; but the eyes that had looked up at him had been enormous pools of hazel. Other than the eyes, her face was quite unremarkable. That was probably why he could not place her. She was not the sort of woman who normally piqued Jack's interest
He dragged his eyes from his unknown companion and once again raised his quizzing glass as he surveyed the ballroom. This time his gaze fell upon a lovely young redhead standing along the opposite wall, flirting with a circle of admirers. She brought her fan to her lips as she giggled at some remark, then snapped it shut and slapped it down on the wrist of her nearest gallant, batting her eyes coquettishly. Her hair was absolutely glorious, with one long fiery curl hanging over a creamy white shoulder.
By God, no one was going to tell him that there was anything wrong with this young beauty. Nevertheless, tearing himself away after one last admiring gaze, he reluctantly turned his glass upon the woman at his side and raised his brows in question. She hunched a shoulder and raised her fan to partially cover her face. Jack's greater height gave him a clear view behind the fan, and he watched as her mouth twisted in distaste. She leaned toward him in a conspiratorial manner without taking her eyes off the girl.
"Too silly," she whispered.
Jack grinned down at this imp
ertinent unknown who nevertheless intrigued him. What was her game? Well, whatever it was, he was just bored enough to play along and find out.
This time he raised his glass to study Lady Amanda Palmer, Egerton's eldest daughter, as she was partnered by Lord Ainsley. She was a glowing beauty with glossy dark brown curls and amber-colored eyes. Her face was lit up with a spectacular smile, and her cheeks were slightly flushed from the dance. Jack's glass followed the line of her graceful neck down over the rounded shoulders to the full swell of bosom revealed by her rather daring neckline. He knew this to be at least her third Season, and her manners were open though modest. Surely there could be no objection to this young lady, he thought as he looked down at his tiny confederate.
She sighed and looked up with a resigned shake of her head.
"Of course, it is up to you, my lord," she said in a husky whisper, "but Lady Amanda has an unfortunate tendency toward plumpness. Only look at her mother." She cocked her head in the direction of the corner of the room reserved for dowagers and chaperones.
Jack's glass followed her gaze toward the sea of plumed turbans in the corner. It was hard to miss Lady Egerton whose bulk took up almost an entire settee. One of the spindly-legged chairs used by the other matrons would have surely collapsed under the woman's tremendous girth.
Jack bit back a smile.
He dropped his quizzing glass, which, attached to its black ribbon, fell against his white brocade waistcoat, and heaved a dramatic sigh.
"Well, madam," he said in a bored tone, "I seem to be foiled at every turn. Perhaps you have a candidate of your own to recommend?" Most likely the woman had a daughter or niece or some other charge under her wing, with hopes of securing an advantageous match. Well, thought Jack, so long as the chit came with a plump dowry, he was willing to entertain any and all suggestions.
"Not at the moment," the woman replied, smiling brightly up at him. "But I would be happy to help you in your search, Lord Pemerton."
Jack pulled away from the pillar, straightened up, and peered down at the woman, furrowing his brow in puzzlement. Still, he could not place her, though she obviously knew him. Of course, there was nothing particularly distinctive about her that would have kept her in his memory; although he thought he might have remembered that intriguingly husky voice, surprising in such a small woman.
"I beg your pardon, madam," he said, "but you seem to have the advantage of me. You apparently know who I am and yet I don't—"
"Oh, but we have met, my lord," she interrupted.
"Indeed? I must apologize, then, for I am afraid I don't recall—"
"No need to apologize, my lord," she interrupted again, this time with a wave of dismissal. "I do not expect you would remember since you were thoroughly foxed at the time."
"Oh, good Lord," Jack mumbled as he raked a hand through his hair and dropped his eyes to the ground. What transgression had he committed in this lady's presence? Before he could ponder the countless possibilities, his attention was firmly snatched back to the present by the sound of a rich, throaty chuckle. He looked over to find the lady's head thrown back as she abandoned herself to laughter. The sound was so delightful, almost like a rusty gate, that he could not help but smile.
"Lady Mary Haviland," she said at last, offering her hand.
* * *
Like it? Download a copy of A Change of Heart from any online e-book retailer.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Candice Hern is the award-winning, bestselling author of historical romance novels set during the English Regency, a period she knows well through years of collecting antiques and fashion prints of the period. She travels to England regularly, always in search of more historical and local color to bring her stories and characters to life.
Her books have won praise for the "intelligence and elegant romantic sensibility" (Romantic Times) as well as "delicious wit and luscious sensuality (Booklist).
Candice's award-winning website (www.candicehern.com) is often cited for its Regency World pages, where readers interested in the era will find an illustrated glossary, a detailed timeline, illustrated digests of Regency people and places, articles on Regency fashion, research links, and much more. It is the only author website listed among the online resources for the Jane Austen Centre in England.
Visit www.candicehern.com for more information on all Candice's books, including excerpts and a look "behind the scenes" of each novel.
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