Ellie scanned the crowd, looking for James. She didn’t really know what she was doing there. Two romantically inclined young girls had dressed her up like a pagan sacrifice, and now here she was, about to make a fool of herself again.
Suddenly, James’s grandmama was approaching at a rapid march. Uh, oh. She backed up behind her partner and bumped into a footman holding a tray of punch in little glasses. Although the footman managed a swift, agile maneuver to one side, some punch still spilled, landing on her new mauve gown.
“So sorry, madam. Do come with me, and I’ll fetch one of the maids to tend to you.”
“Grieves!” He was already rushing her smoothly toward the doors of the ballroom.
“Make haste, madam. We don’t want the stain to fasten irreparably.” He led her up the sweeping staircase.
“Where are we going?” she demanded, flustered, already feeling her curls fighting their way free of Lady Mercy’s seed-pearl hairpins.
“The maid is in here, madam. She will look after you.” He opened a door and gestured for her to go in. As she stumbled over the threshold, he closed the door behind her, and Ellie found herself in a bedchamber.
With James.
***
He smiled, unable to help it now that she was there before him again. “You look breathtaking.” He meant it. Her dark curls were piled up on her head, dressed with tiny pearls that shone like stars, reminding him of that night in Brighton when she’d looked up at the sky and asked how many stars he thought there were.
For him, now, there was only one.
Ellie Vyne. He loved her with all his heart, body, and soul. Deep inside him, a small voice whispered, About time too. He had the strangest idea it was Sophia’s voice.
“Grieves brought me up here to find a maid,” she exclaimed and gestured angrily at her skirt. For a usually perceptive woman, she was being very obtuse.
“I’m afraid there is no maid here.” He limped forward. “And I can’t get down on one knee, so we’ll have to make do.”
Her eyes widened.
He was studying her face. “Why are your lips so red?”
“My…? Well, Lady Mercy thought I should wear lip rouge, and I…James Hartley, what on earth is going on?” He heard the door to the adjoining room open behind him and knew she’d seen Parson Bentley enter.
He reached over and rubbed the color off her lips with one sweep of his thumb. “I like you and your lips just the way they were made.”
“James, we can’t—”
“Vyne, I have let you get away too many times. Now I have you where I want you at last. I am sorry I ever insulted you when you were sixteen, but I was stupid and careless. There now, I made my apology.” He reached inside his jacket and drew out the special license he’d obtained. “We can argue about it later, as I’m sure we will. But right now we’re getting married, woman.” He narrowed his gaze to her lips. “Unless, of course, you would prefer to be arrested for masquerading as the count de Bonneville and stealing the Hartley Diamonds.”
She pouted, but only for a moment. Almost immediately, her mouth opened with an argument. “Blackmail again? How typical of you, Hartley.”
“May I remind you, Vyne, you set me a challenge last summer in Brighton when you abandoned me in that maze?”
To that, she merely sighed, as if it was all too tiresome to recall.
He slid an arm around her waist. “Caught you, Miss Vyne.”
***
He was mad. Must be.
“Hartley, there is a ballroom full of prospective, suitable brides down there, not to mention your grandmother, who has, no doubt, vetted them all very carefully.”
“Yes. Imagine their joy when we go down and announce our ill-matched, most unlikely, and wretchedly unwise union.”
“Joy?” She could think of another word for it.
He pulled her closer and kissed her. “I need you to hold me upright.”
“So I see.”
“Are you finally ready to be Mrs. Hartley?”
She sought desperately to make him see sense. “I’ll make a terrible wife. I’m sure we’ll never be able to agree on paint color.”
“Or names for the children.”
“I’ll make you sorry you married me. You’ll be miserable.”
“Then you’ll get your vengeance, won’t you, wretched woman?”
Oh yes. So she would.
“I deserve it,” he added softly. “Torture me every day for the rest of my life. Please.”
In any case, from the look in his eye, he was not about to let her leave that room a single woman. A very purposeful, naughty smile eased across his mouth, in full view of the parson.
“James.” She laid a hand to his shoulder. “A very strange thing happened recently. Someone bought Lark Hollow. Do you know anything about that, by chance?”
His eyes lightened. “I thought it might make a nice country retreat. It really is lovely—or it could be, if it had the right owner. The admiral can stay, and I’m making one of the rooms over just for you. With some books, a fire, and chairs with lots of cushions. And the dog, of course. All overlooking a walled garden.”
She was amazed that he remembered all that. Heart pounding, she gave in. Ellie flung both her arms around him for another kiss. He was not content with that one, but wanted another and then another.
“Thank you for my gloves.”
“Someone has to keep your hands warm.”
She gazed up into his blue eyes and feared if they did not stop now, he might get his own wicked way with her there and then. The arrangement of her hair would be spoiled, her frock probably torn, and they would be late going down to his grandmother’s ball. “You don’t mind about my real father?”
“We cannot choose our relatives, Ellie. Why did you think it would matter to me?”
“Because you’re a snob and a Hartley.”
“And you leap to conclusions, like all women.”
“I believe I had every reason to assume—”
“You abandoned me rather than give me a chance to prove you wrong.”
“For pity’s sake, what else could I do?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Explain everything and let me help you? I suppose that’s too simple.”
“Help me? As well as you help yourself? Good Lord!”
“Kiss me, wench. I’ve missed our quarrels.”
So she kissed him again, a gentle, lingering caress. “It seems my father chose to leave rather than take the post you offered.”
“I thought he might.”
“You’re very clever. Much cleverer than you look.”
“A compliment, Vyne?” She was surprised and charmed to witness a slight sunset flush color his cheek. “Are you feverish?” he exclaimed. “You know I’m the stupidest person you ever met. An utter wastrel.”
Perhaps she had better not tell him she knew about his charitable work, just yet.
She chuckled. “Rafe must come and live with us. He’d love Lark Hollow. It’s close enough to visit Sophie and his uncle as often as he likes.”
James nodded slowly. “If you agree.”
“Of course. He is your son.” Ellie had very few judgmental bones in her body. How could she afford any? And she had a feeling—a very certain feeling—that Rafe would have a little brother or sister before another Christmas came. “James Hartley,” she said, suddenly somber, “you found your purpose finally.”
He raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“To make me happy. All the time.”
“I can only try.” He winked, a little twinkle in his eye. “You’re ready then, Vyne, to marry this despicable rake?”
Now that the moment was upon her, it didn’t seem nearly as terrifying as it had before. It wasn’t a wedding with orange blossoms and thrown rice, but then nothing about their courtship had been usual. Feeling brave, she tucked her arm under his good one. “Lean on me.” They’d get through it together. He couldn’t do without her, poor fellow. It was a very good th
ing she was there to love him.
***
A short while later it was done.
“Well, my darling wife, are we ready to announce our wicked wedding to the world?”
She opened the door. “Ready when you are. We’ll face the scandal together.”
He looked down at her, and just before they stepped out into the hall, he whispered, “I can’t think of any scandal I’d rather have. I love you, Mrs. Hartley.”
The notorious Ellie Vyne Hartley beamed up at him. “I knew that, of course. I just had to make you see it, didn’t I? Sooner or later you’d find your way and follow me out of that maze.”
Music and perfume drifted upward on a swell of warm air from the ballroom below. For a breath they hovered on the threshold, and then, on the count of three, tearing their gazes finally away from each other, they stepped through the open door and into a new beginning for them both. Together.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank Aubrey Poole for her terrific editing and all the folks at Sourcebooks for believing in me as a writer.
About the Author
Jayne Fresina sprouted up in England, the youngest in a family of four daughters. Entertained by her father’s colorful tales of growing up in the countryside, and surrounded by opinionated sisters—all with far more exciting lives than hers—she’s always had inspiration for her beleaguered heroes and unstoppable heroines.
The Lady Mercy Danforthe Flirts with Scandal
Jayne Fresina
Lady Mercy likes her life neat and tidy. She prides herself on being practical—like her engagement to Viscount Grey, whose dark coloring coordinates very well with her favorite furnishings. But things start to get messy when her best friend abandons her fiancé at the altar, leaving it up to Mercy to help the couple. There’s just one problem. The jilted man is Rafe Hartley—Mercy’s former husband.
Rafe has not forgiven Mercy for deserting him when they were seventeen. Their hasty marriage was declared void by law, but in his eyes the bossy little vixen was still his wife, even if the marriage lasted only a few hours. And Mercy “Silky Drawers” Danforthe still owes him a wedding night.
For more Jayne Fresina, visit:
www.sourcebooks.com
The Most Improper Miss Sophie Valentine
by Jayne Fresina
“Wanted: one husband, not too particular. Small dowry several books, sundry furnishings, and elderly aunt included. Idlers, time-wasters, and gentlemen with other attachments need not apply.”—Miss Sophie Valentine
A Scandalous Lady
Sophie Valentine knew placing an ad for a husband in the Farmer’s Gazette would bring her trouble—and she was right. When the darkly handsome, arrogantly charming Lazarus Kane shows up on her doorstep, the nosy residents of Sydney Dovedale are thrown into a gossiping tizzy. After all, it’s common knowledge that Sophie is a young lady In Need of Firmer Direction. But even Sophie isn’t so scandalous as to marry a complete stranger…is she?
Seeks Handsome Stranger
Lazarus Kane has been searching for Sophie half of his life. She may not remember him, but he could never forget her. But the past is a dangerous thing, and it’s best if his remains secret if he wants to tempt Sophie with…
A Most Improper Proposal
For more Jayne Fresina, visit:
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Miss Lavigne’s Little White Lie
by Samantha Grace
Spirited and determined to protect her young brother at any cost, Lisette Lavigne is desperate to flee New Orleans. There’s only one ship sailing to England, though, and the rakish Captain Daniel Hillary will only allow Lisette’s family aboard for a very steep price…
Daniel prides himself on running a tight ship, and he knows a lady will be nothing but trouble on a long voyage. Yet he can’t help but break his own ironclad rules when Lisette persuades him that being gentlemanly just this once is his wisest course of action…
“Evocative… There is a charm in Grace’s prose that will delight readers.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Grace’s fabulously fun debut will dazzle readers with its endearingly outspoken heroine and devilishly rakish hero.”
—Booklist
For more Samantha Grace, visit:
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Waking Up with a Rake
Connie Mason and Mia Marlowe
The fate of England’s monarchy is in the hands of three notorious rakes.
To prevent three royal dukes from marrying their way onto the throne, heroic, selfless agents for the crown will be dispatched…to seduce the dukes’ intended brides. These wickedly debauched rakes will rumple sheets and cause a scandal. But they just might fall into their own trap…
After he’s blamed for a botched assignment during the war, former cavalry officer Rhys Warrick turns his back on “honor.” He spends his nights in brothels doing his best to live down to the expectations of his disapproving family. But one last mission could restore the reputation he’s so thoroughly sullied. All he has to do is seduce and ruin Miss Olivia Symon and his military record will be cleared. For a man with Rhys’s reputation, ravishing the delectably innocent miss should be easy. But Olivia’s honesty and bold curiosity stir more than Rhys’s desire. Suddenly the heart he thought he left on the battlefield is about to surrender…
For more Connie Mason and Mia Marlow, visit
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Table of Contents
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Cover
The Wicked Wedding of Miss Ellie Vyne Page 32