by Dayna Quince
“Instead you fought for mine,” Lilly said from the comfort of Dominic’s lap and warm, reassuring arms. “You should have seen her jump on Mr. Hollow like an angry mother tiger protecting her young.”
The gentlemen laughed, and Olivia beamed proudly. “I would do it again.”
“You have my undying gratitude,” Dominic said.
“Yes, Olivia, I am forever in your debt. You are truly an amazing friend, and I thank you for it.” Lilly’s eyes became bright with tears. “How can I ever repay you?”
“You shall name a daughter after me,” Olivia quipped.
Lilly turned beet red, and Dominic coughed to cover his laugh while the others laughed openly.
“There’s going to be an even bigger scandal now. Everyone at the ball heard the commotion,” Chance warned. "We may have undone all the work we did.”
“I don’t care,” Lilly said defiantly. “There are more important things than balls, parties, and the opinions of people who don’t care about me.”
“I foresee a long stay in the country for you, Livie,” Devon interjected.
Olivia pouted. “It’s not my fault. I wasn’t trying to get kidnapped. Why should I be punished?”
“’Tis the way of things,” he replied.
“It will blow over in time, Livie. Some other scandal will take its place, and soon you will be old news,” Lilly said. “Until then, we can both return to the country and hide our faces in shame with long afternoon rides and lazy mornings in the library.”
“That does sound quite appealing.” Olivia smiled.
“Where will you go from here, Lilly?” Chance asked.
“Well? I hadn’t really thought about it.” She looked at Dominic and he looked at her, smiling mischievously.
“It has occurred to me,” he said, “that we have a vicar and witnesses, and I took the liberty of procuring a special license two weeks ago.”
“Oh hell, Dominic, you want to get married right now?” Chance said incredulously.
Lilly gasped in shock then smiled brilliantly. “I cannot marry someone who hasn’t proposed to me.”
“Oh, this is so romantic!” Olivia cried.
“Will you do the honors, Mr. Timms?” Dominic asked, still looking at Lilly as if the stars had all aligned for this one single moment.
“Certainly, my lord, but I believe Lady Lillian said she hasn’t received a proposal yet.” Mr. Timms smiled and everyone laughed.
In the privacy of the cabin, Olivia helped Lilly put on her ball gown, which had been dried and warmed by the fire—although it would never be wearable in polite company again. Lilly helped Olivia dress in return, and they proceeded to the deck, where three gentlemen and the man Lilly would spend the rest of her life loving were waiting.
They had planned to erect a piece of sailcloth to provide shelter from the drizzle, but when the two ladies stepped out into the night, the clouds and mist were gone. The slick deck was awash with moonlight brighter than Lilly had ever seen. Every surface glittered with dewdrops that shimmered like thousands of tiny diamonds.
Dominic took her hand. Together they walked to the railing overlooking the inky water and a horizon of the faintest of light, heralding the coming dawn.
“Lilly, I want you to marry me. I want you to be my wife so I can spend the rest of my life loving you every day and every night. I can’t promise things will be easy. I’ve lived a very different life than a normal gentleman and am only now adjusting to becoming an earl. I’ve never known what it is to have a family, or how a husband should love a wife or love his children. But I promise I will love you with everything I have, give you everything you desire, and swear you will never know another moment of fear or loneliness. I will protect you, love you, and worship you for as long as I live if not longer. Will you marry me?” He knelt before her.
Lilly’s stomach did a flip-flop inside her, and her heart beat wildly like a caged bird set free. There was only one answer she could ever give, and although her throat was still sore and thick with emotion, nothing would stop her.
“Yes, I will.” She smiled with all the love in her heart.
Dominic stood and pulled her against him tightly. They were joined by Mr. Timms and their friends, with curious crew members loitering in the background.
In the twilight of the sinking moon and rising dawn, Lilly and Dominic shared vows, promising their love before God and friends.
“Therefore, what God hath joined together, let no man put asunder,” Mr. Timms said with finality.
Everyone applauded and a few hoots were even heard. Dominic and Lilly paid them no mind as again Dominic pulled her close and kissed her senseless.
Sneak Peek
Sweet Torture
“This is a nightmare!” Olivia cried in the parlor of her parent's Mayfair townhouse. Her devilishly handsome brother sat beside her as a shoulder to weep upon while her dearest friend, Lydia Covington, sat across from her, worrying a tear-soaked handkerchief.
“What can we do?” Olivia sniffed.
“Nothing, it would ruin us,” Lydia frowned at the twisted handkerchief in her hands.
Devon scowled at her. “We will do whatever we can, Lydia.”
“Which is what?” She looked up and met his scorn. “Lilly has gone into hiding. Her name is tarnished—by treason of all things. We don’t know where she is and least of all how to help her.
“Ever the voice of hope,” Devon sneered. “If you cannot be supportive, maybe you should leave.”
Tears welled in Lydia’s pale blue eyes. “I am trying to be reasonable. Lilly is my friend, too. Even if I could help her, she never came to me and asked.”
“Perhaps because you’re so cold,” Devon snapped back at her.
“Devon!” Olivia gasped. “How could you say such a thing?”
Lydia stood and walked away. She exited the French doors left open to the brisk spring air, still chilled from a winter refusing to release London.
“Devon, go apologize at once,” Olivia scolded. “I’ve already lost one friend. I won’t let you drive away another.”
Devon rose and cursed as he strode through the open doors into the weak afternoon sun. He caught sight of a willowy blonde, who sat crying in the rose shrouded gazebo. He walked to the arched entry and climbed the steps. He stopped just inside the shadowed interior and leaned back against the entryway post, hands in pockets, ankles crossed leisurely.
“I apologize for my hurtful words, Lydia.”
She turned away from him and sniffed. She didn't like to cry in front of others. From the time she was a small girl, she was taught to keep her composure in any situation. It was the mark of true breeding, as her mother always said.
Somehow, Devon always got the best of her. His words could cut to the quick, and when his emerald-green eyes looked at her with such disdain, it hurt more than she could bear.
“I should not have called you cold. I know you care for Lilly, too.”
Still, Lydia only gave him her profile, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he had hurt her.
“Oh hell, for Christ’s sake look at me!” Devon grabbed her elbow and pulled her to her feet to face him.
“Do not handle me so, it isn’t proper,” Lydia snapped.
“Perhaps I should kiss you and truly ruin your day.”
Lydia froze as she met his gaze. “You…you wouldn’t dare,” she blushed from a mixture of illicit shock and indignation.
“Ah, a chink in the great Lydia Covington’s icy armor.”
“Is this an apology?” Lydia’s body warred between hot and cold, anger and…excitement?
“You would never accept an apology from me. In your eyes, I’m nothing but a scoundrel.”
“Surely, not just mine,” Lydia responded dryly. Anger was a much more familiar emotion when dealing with this rogue. She allowed it to soothe her frayed nerves. “If you have not yet grasped the notion, I came out here to escape you.”
Devon ignored
the insult. “What would you do if I kissed you, Lydia? Would you melt? I quite like the idea. In fact, I think I would become famous, ‘Lord Wilhelm melted the puritanical ice queen of London.’”
“You are not amusing. I’ll thank you to let me go now.”
“I’m really warming to this idea, Lydia.” He smiled.
“Devon, please.” Lydia tugged at her arm. The effect of his smile was like liquid heat down her spine.
“In fact, I think it would be good for you.”
“Let me go, you impudent rogue.” Lydia fairly growled the words.
“Come now, Lydia, a little kiss never hurt anyone,” he shrugged innocently.
“On the contrary, a single kiss has ruined many young ladies. I also would not like to have anything in common with the legions of loose women with which you associate.”
Devon laughed buoyantly while still holding her arm. The sight scattered Lydia’s composure. When Devon genuinely smiled, not the cool aloof smile he showed society, or heaven forbid laughed, he was truly a demigod among men. Lydia was not one to be swayed by a man’s looks, but she had never seen a man more handsome than Devon Brentton. He had the same flashing green eyes as his sister, and twin dimples that had been known to cause swoons. Not Lydia, of course, but Devon in full force—as he was now—was an assault to the female senses. Lydia would only grudgingly admit, and only to herself, that she was susceptible. She looked away from him, feigning annoyance. In truth, it was for self-preservation.
They were enclosed in a dome of roses, ultimately hidden from all eyes with only one exit currently blocked by one broad-shouldered male. He stopped laughing and now stared openly at her with that mocking smile.
“I’m serious, Devon, release me,” she demanded.
“I am serious, as well. I really think I should kiss you.”
Lydia’s eyes widened in alarm. “Don’t think, it doesn’t suit you.” She tugged at her arm again, but his grasp was firm. He stepped closer, bringing them together in the shadows. Vibrant pink roses bobbed and stared as if cheering him on. It would have been romantic if Lydia was some pea-brained halfwit in her first season. But Lydia was Lydia, and as a paragon of proper decorum in society, she was immune to situations such as this except… Devon Brentton was going to kiss her. Fear and excitement skittered over her skin, but she fought against it.
“Devon, really. Stop this nonsense and let me leave. This is highly improper.”
“Indeed it is. It will be over before you know it, Lydia.”
“I bet you say that to all your strumpets.”
“Touché.” He laughed as he pulled her ever closer until there was nothing between them but clothing. He pulled her arms up around his neck, and her traitorous hands clasped together at his nape.
Lydia could do naught but stare into the shadowed emerald of his eyes as his head moved closer, blocking out everything but him. She closed her eyes involuntarily and felt his lips brush against hers.
“Devon.” She didn’t even realize she had said his name aloud. She should tell him to stop, but the words wouldn’t form. His hands moved to her hips, and he pulled her tightly against him. She gasped, and he took advantage of her open mouth to deepen the kiss.
His mouth slanted over hers. Lydia’s mind scattered as his warm velvet tongue stroked hers, and she responded in kind. Her body was a traitor. Eagerly, they dueled until finally, as stars glittered behind her eyelids, she pushed against him and he broke the kiss. They were both breathing heavily.
“That was foolish…I apologize,” he said stiltedly.
“We are both fools.” Lydia stared in bewilderment. “That can never happen again.”
“I agree,” he stated solemnly as he stepped away. His fingertips dragged against her hips as if reluctant to let go.
“If someone had seen…” Lydia felt a fissure of panic.
“No one saw,” he reassured her.
“How do you know?”
“I’m a rake, I know these things.”
Lydia paused then smiled nervously. “That is strangely comforting. I must leave. Goodbye, Devon.” She moved past him, no longer able to meet his gaze or make awkward small talk. Her color was high, and her heart was beating fiercely in her chest like a little trapped bird. Her steps quickly carried her across the garden. She flew through the French doors absently, noting Olivia sitting demurely on the sofa, hands clasped in her lap.
“I’m sorry, Livie, I must leave.” Lydia didn’t even halt her exodus to hear a response. She was behaving horribly, she knew, but could not stop her frantic escape. As she reached the front hall, the butler appeared. “My cloak, please, and my carriage.”
“As you wish,” he intoned and soberly walked away after bowing.
Lydia was tempted to give him a swift kick in the rump to hasten him. Apparently, a kiss from Devon Brentton caused one to lose one’s mind. Lydia tried to calm herself. She was being a complete ninny over something that Devon probably did to women daily. It meant nothing, of course. It was just shocking, was all. It was Lydia’s first kiss, and it had shocked her to her very toes. She looked down at her slippers peeking out from her hem; somehow, shocked toes should look different from regular toes but maybe not with slippers on.
The butler appeared with her cloak.
“Thank you.” She hastily donned it as he opened the door for her, and Lydia made her escape. Sitting inside the carriage, she finally felt composed once again. She had been kissed by Devon and survived. Really, she had overreacted. She could see that now. She would think nothing of it from now on, and hopefully, Devon would do the same. They could go on as if nothing had ever happened.
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About the Author
Dayna was only fourteen when she developed a serious addiction to romance novels. What began as an innocent desire to read became an all-out obsession with the romance genre. She gave book reports on romance novels, got in trouble for reading during lectures, and would rather spend her time reading than attending high school parties. After all, high school boys could not compete with the likes of Stephanie Laurens Devil Cynster. After getting her first job, her addiction only got worse. She now had her own money to spend and a car to get to Barnes and Noble as frequently as she wanted. She managed to maintain a somewhat normal life, marrying her high school boyfriend who was aware he was competing with fictional men for her attention. Dayna soon began writing her own romance novels, inspired by her love for all things romance. Dayna and her family live in Southern California with their two children and three fur babies. Dayna is happiest at home where she can be with her family and write to her hearts content.
daynaquince.com
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Also by Dayna Quince
The Fated for Love Series:
Mine, All Mine
Sweet Torture
Storm on the Horizon
To Love, Honor, and Obey
Desperate and Daring Series:
Available from Jacks House Publishing beginning September 2018
Preorder now!
Desperate For a Duke
Belle of The Ball
Just One Kiss
Anything But Innocent
An Unconventional Innocent
Mad About You
A Rogue of Her Own
Hero of Her Heart
An Undesirable Duke
Dare to Love a Scot
Mine, All Mine
©copyright 2012 Dayna Quince
www.daynaquince.com
* * *
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission with the exception of brief quotations for use in critical articles and reviews.
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This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the product of this author’s imagination and being used fictitiously.
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