by Olivia Drake
The answer came in a dismaying flash.
He must mean to set aside his long-held scruples. He would marry his rich heiress and ask Rory to be his mistress.
Chapter 26
A spinster dons her cap as a badge of honor.
—MISS CELLANY
Late the next morning, Rory entered the drawing room to find Lady Milford seated on the rose-striped chaise. Rory had been in her bedchamber on the pretext of having a headache. It wasn’t far from the truth. Despite the exhausting events of the prior two days and nights, she’d slept poorly. The last thing she wanted was to discuss the blackmail scheme with the dowager countess, which had to be the reason for the woman’s unexpected visit.
Resplendent in a gown of lavender silk, Lady Milford patted the cushion beside her. “Good morning, Miss Paxton. Do have a seat here.”
Rory stepped forward, though she declined to sit. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well, my lady. I only came down to return these to you.” She handed the woman the blue velvet bag containing the garnet dancing slippers. “I’ll be returning to Norfolk very soon, so I won’t be needing them anymore.”
“Returning to Norfolk? Oh, please do sit down. I’m too old to crane my neck.”
Rory reluctantly complied, arranging the skirt of her old blue gown. “I presume you’ve heard that Lord Dashell and I recovered the stolen letters. If you wish to know the details, you would do better to discuss the matter with my stepmother.”
“I did learn that Mrs. Edgerton has become engaged to a certain foreign diplomat. Apparently, they will soon leave England to live in Italy.”
“Yes. So you see, you were wrong to accuse Lucas—Lord Dashell—of the deed. He was entirely without fault in the matter.”
“So it would seem.”
“And you must cease spreading rumors that he lost his inheritance by making poor investments. His destitute state is entirely the fault of his father!”
Lady Milford gave her a keen stare. “Dashell has quite the fierce defender in you, Miss Paxton.”
Heat sprang to Rory’s cheeks. She realized she’d spoken sharply, her fists clenched in her lap. She had not meant to betray herself. “I don’t like injustice,” she explained rather lamely.
“I see. Will you remain in your post as Lady Dashell’s companion?”
“Of course not. It was only temporary, for the sake of the investigation. Besides, my aunt is better suited to the role.”
Rory’s throat choked up a little at the thought of returning to Norfolk alone. The previous day, she had sent a note to Aunt Bernice at Dashell House, expressing a desire for them to go home to Halcyon Cottage. She had received a scribbled reply from her aunt, saying that she was having a marvelous time and wished to remain in London until the end of the season. She had even summoned Murdock to serve her there.
But Rory couldn’t bear to stay. Not when she might read a notice of Lucas’s betrothal in the newspapers soon. Possibly even by tomorrow.
She had returned here with Celeste and Perry the previous day. Kitty had vacillated between hugging Celeste and scolding her. Perry had held up admirably before her reproaches. He had pleaded his case like an honorable gentleman, standing firm with Celeste until they’d convinced Kitty of the seriousness of their intent to marry.
Twenty-four hours had passed since then. Lucas had promised to call no later than this morning, and it was nearly noon already. Her insides ached with a hollow sense of loss. How pathetic of her to wait on pins and needles for him. He must be busy making up to Miss Kipling for neglecting her this week.
“I don’t recall you wearing that spinster’s cap the last time we met,” Lady Milford observed.
Rory self-consciously touched the swath of lace draped over her upswept hair. She had occupied herself the previous evening by cutting and hemming the cap from an old fichu. The same fichu that Lucas had plucked from her bodice the day they’d gone to the pawnshop. “It’s appropriate for a woman of six-and-twenty. After all, I am quite firmly on the shelf.”
“Does Dashell agree with that?”
Her blush deepened until her whole face felt hot. Lady Milford’s lips curved into a wise smile. As if she knew about the passionate night Rory and Lucas had shared at the inn. But that was impossible. The woman could not have heard about the elopement or even the broken betrothal, for the duke had not yet been told. The servants had been sworn to secrecy and the scandal kept under wraps until Whittingham arrived. Celeste had penned a note to the duke, begging him to call at his earliest convenience.
“Dashell? Why should he have any say in what I wear—”
Rory was interrupted by the sound of Grimshaw clearing his throat in the doorway. She had been too dispirited to lecture him about his bastard son, yet his superior manner had given way to humility, nonetheless. “Lord Dashell to see you, Miss Paxton.”
Lucas stepped into the doorway. Her lethargy vanished in a snap. Every fiber of her body sprang to life, and her heart slammed against her rib cage. She felt light-headed, unable to draw a breath into her beleaguered lungs.
His gaze went straight to Rory, and she drank him in as if he were a hot cup of tea on a cold day. He looked darkly handsome in a navy blue coat and charcoal-gray trousers, the white cravat at his throat complementing his masculine features. The granite hauteur was gone from his face today. He looked more approachable, especially with the faint smile that played at one corner of his mouth. It made her insides curl into an aching orb of desire.
Realizing she was gawking, Rory schooled her features into a polite mask. She had made up her mind to scorn the dishonorable offer that he’d come here to present.
He strolled into the drawing room. She sat tensely still as he came straight toward her. But instead of addressing Rory, he made his bow to Lady Milford. “My lady. I see that, as usual, you are spinning your web of intrigue.”
Her violet eyes gleamed as she rose gracefully to her feet. “The question is, have you been caught, Dashell?”
“I certainly hope so!”
“Then I shall take my leave since my work here is done.” Holding the blue velvet bag containing the garnet shoes, she smiled warmly at Rory. “Good day, Miss Paxton.”
Rory watched in bemusement as the dowager countess glided away, pausing only to speak a word of greeting to Kitty, who hovered behind Lucas. Rory hadn’t even noticed her stepmother’s presence until that moment.
As Lady Milford disappeared out the door, Kitty came bustling forward to give Lucas a toadying smile. “I must thank you again, my lord. I can only imagine how the tongues would have wagged without your help.”
“It was nothing.”
“Nothing! Why, you had to ride all the way to Newmarket! And then on to Wimbledon. And after you’d already been all night on the road during a storm! Celeste and I owe you a tremendous debt.”
“Newmarket?” Rory asked in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind,” Lucas said, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “There’s no need to go into it now.”
Kitty ignored him and addressed Rory. “Lord Dashell offered to speak to Whittingham on Celeste’s behalf. But the duke went to the races yesterday and then to visit a friend. Lord Dashell had to ride hither and yon just to find the man. And he has convinced Whittingham to put an announcement in the papers that the betrothal has ended by mutual agreement. That means there will be no scandal. Oh, perhaps a little talk, but at least no one will know that Celeste threw him over to elope with another man.”
“People will know when she marries him,” Rory pointed out.
“Not if a prudent amount of time has passed,” Lucas said. “Perry has agreed to wait until the autumn.”
“Celeste will object to that!”
“Perry is speaking to her in the morning room at this very moment,” Kitty said, all aflutter. “Oh! I must go chaperone them at once!” Looking remarkably cheerful despite having lost a ducal coronet for her daughter, she hastened out the door.
Ro
ry’s heart pounded as she found herself alone with Lucas. He was gazing at her with melting tenderness in his gray eyes. She wanted to despise him, yet he had gone out of his way to cover up the scandal. Why?
She threaded her fingers at her waist. “I suppose you felt compelled to help Ce-Ce since she’s your half sister.”
“You can’t truly believe that was my primary purpose.”
“What other reason could there be? By the by, Kitty has agreed to tell Ce-Ce about her true father. It’s only fair that my sister should know she has two half brothers. You and Henry will wish to spend time with her.”
He advanced on her. “I’m glad you still regard Celeste as your sister. Though I hope it will be true, anyway.”
Rory retreated. The deviltry in his gaze distracted her so that she had trouble understanding him. “You’re talking nonsense.”
“Am I? I did tell you I was coming to speak to you today.”
“Then you may save your breath. I shall not be your mistress!”
“I haven’t asked you to be. Nor will I.” He closed the distance between them in one long stride and took her into his arms. Then he eyed her quizzically. “By the way, why is that ugly doily on your head?”
“It’s a cap. Dignified older ladies wear them.”
“Spinsters, you mean.” Pins went flying as he plucked off the square of lace and hurled it at the hearth, where the flames charred it. “You won’t be needing it anymore.”
“Lucas! I spent the better part of an hour hemming that last night!”
“My darling, for an intelligent woman, you’re being remarkably obtuse. I came here today to ask you … to beg you to be my wife.”
Her mouth dropped open. Her knees threatened to give way. Only the strength of his arms kept her from falling. Joy and incredulity swirled inside her heart. Through a cloud of burgeoning hope, she told herself he couldn’t really intend to marry her. Yet the loving expression on his unguarded face spoke volumes.
He ran his fingertip over her lips. “It surely isn’t possible that Miss Cellany is tongue-tied.”
She found her voice. “You can’t marry me. You need to marry Miss Kipling.”
“I learned an important lesson from reading Miss Cellany’s latest column. And again, yesterday, from my newfound half sister, who will soon be your sister-in-law. It’s wrong to wed for anything less than true love. And I’d be miserable with such a peagoose as Alice. I much prefer a … how did you put it? A dignified older lady.”
“But … the money … fifty thousand pounds…”
“I’ll have to sell the London house and my two estates that aren’t entailed. We’ll cut back on luxuries and move to the country. Will you mind pinching pennies for a while, darling? Until my debts are paid off?”
“Oh, Lucas. I’m used to being poor. It’s nothing new to me.”
“Then will you kindly cease torturing me?” Reaching into his coat, he drew out a dainty diamond ring. “This is only an old family heirloom, but will you wear it, Rory? Will you be my wife?”
“Yes! Oh, yes!”
Blissful tears flooded her eyes as he slid the ring onto her finger. Then his mouth engulfed hers in an ardent kiss. As they clung to each other, a glow of happiness infused her. Melding her life with his was a dream come true, far better than anything she could ever have imagined.
She angled her head back. “But Lucas, are you sure? Lady Milford once told me that you wish to seek higher office. What if my secret identity comes out? I won’t give up my radical writings!”
He nuzzled her cheek, his breath tickling her skin. “I would never ask you to do so. I love you as Miss Cellany. And as Jewel. And as Miss Rory Paxton. They’re all part of who you are. There’s only one thing I’d change.”
“I knew there had to be a catch.”
He chuckled. “It’s only your surname that needs altering. Will you like being Rory Vale, the Marchioness of Dashell?”
Over his shoulder, she held out her hand to admire the ring that sparkled on her finger. “Oh, Lucas,” she said on a happy sigh. “Of course. And the sooner the better. We will not wait until autumn!”
“Mm. A quiet ceremony can be arranged, perhaps in a few days…”
She took his face in her hands. “Wait, I nearly forgot. Kitty promised me a thousand pounds if I found the letters. It isn’t much, but I will squeeze the money out of her somehow!”
“Why, you little scamp, not telling me there was a reward.”
Grinning, he bent to kiss her, but their mouths had barely touched when the sound of voices emanated from the corridor. Rory drew back, though Lucas kept his arm around her waist as they turned to see the newcomers.
Aunt Bernice wheeled Lady Dashell into the drawing room. Murdock shuffled behind them with his usual half-drunken gait. The marchioness was complaining to Bernice, “That manservant of yours nearly stumbled while carrying me upstairs. I vow, the help these days is atrocious!”
Lucas walked Rory forward, then bent to peck his mother on the cheek. “Speaking of servants, Mama, you’re about to lose one. Your companion is going to become your daughter-in-law.”
Bernice gasped, rushing forward to envelop Rory in her cushioned embrace. “Well, fathom that! Are you truly in love, dear girl?”
“With all my heart, Auntie. I can’t imagine loving any man more than I do Lucas.” She smiled up at him, and he smiled back with such warmth that her heart skipped a beat.
“Blimey, that calls for a toast,” Murdock declared. “I’ll fetch us a jug o’ rum.” Turning, he lurched out of the drawing room.
“So you’re to make me the dowager.” Lady Dashell jammed the pince-nez onto her nose while peering up from her invalid’s chair. There was actually a hint of fondness on her wrinkled features. “Well, better you than that namby-pamby heiress. Though I don’t suppose you have a penny to your name. We’ll all be moving into the poorhouse, no doubt.”
“We shall manage, Mama,” Lucas said firmly.
“You’ll do more than manage,” Bernice declared. “Was it not fifty thousand you were to have from that other chit? I shall be happy to match it.”
Rory blinked at her aunt. “What?”
“During our travels on his merchant ship, my Ollie had a knack for making canny investments. Furs and lumber in Canada, gemstones in Brazil, gold mines in Africa. I put the proceeds in the Exchange all these years and it has paid off quite handsomely.”
“Auntie, that can’t be true! Why, you’ve lived as a pauper in that little stone cottage!”
Bernice shrugged. “I’m a woman of simple needs. I’ve been saving it for you, dearie. I’m sure I can provide something for Celeste, as well. I only wanted to be certain you were marrying for true love.”
Rory could scarcely absorb the shock of it all. In a daze, she gave her skinflint aunt a big hug and then returned to Lucas’s side to cling weakly to him for support. He looked as stunned as she felt. “It is true love,” she said, smiling up at him. “I could not be more certain of that.”
“Nor could I.” Despite their audience, he pressed a heartfelt kiss to her lips. “There is no greater treasure in the world than love.”
ALSO BY OLIVIA DRAKE
THE CINDERELLA SISTERHOOD
His Wicked Wish
Bella and the Beast
Abducted by a Prince
Stroke of Midnight
If the Slipper Fits
HEIRESS IN LONDON SERIES
Scandal of the Year
Never Trust a Rogue
Seducing the Heiress
Praise
for
BELLA AND THE BEAST
“Once more, Drake proves the right pair of shoes can change your life—especially if they’re red and belong to the Cinderella Sisterhood. This story is both charming with its light, fairy tale–based plotline, and intriguing with the dark, underlying Gothic twists. This is the perfect quick, pick-me-up read.”
—RT Book Reviews
“An intriguing and pas
sionate story full of history and tingling romance … another winner by author Olivia Drake.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“Lush historical romance, complete with all the sprinklings of a fairy tale. Olivia Drake is an excellent writer, and this story knows how to submerge readers completely.”
—Fresh Fiction
ABDUCTED BY A PRINCE
“Drake will have readers believing in the magic of not only a pair of shoes, but also love and the joy of finding your soul mate.”
—RT Book Reviews (4½ stars)
“I am a huge fan of the ‘Cinderella Sisterhood.’ This novel is the enchanting third book in the series, and author Olivia Drake has kept the series very much alive with lots of heartwarming romance, and enough spice to warm even the coldest nights.”
—Night Owl Reviews, Top Pick
STROKE OF MIDNIGHT
“Drake’s flair for mystery blended with humor and passion will delight readers … utterly enchanting.”
—RT Book Reviews
“A compelling romance filled with intrigue.”
—Affaire de Coeur
“Another wonderfully written novel by Olivia Drake.”
—My Book Addiction
IF THE SLIPPER FITS
“Filled with romance, breathtaking passion, and a dash of mystery that will leave you wanting more.”
—Night Owl Reviews
“A dash of danger and a dash of fairy tale in the form of a very special pair of shoes add to the romance plot, filling out If the Slipper Fits nicely.”
—Romance Junkies
“Cinderella knew it was all about the shoes, and so does master storyteller Drake as she kicks off The Cinderella Sisterhood with a tale filled with gothic overtones, sensuality, sprightly dialogue, emotion, an engaging cast, and a beautiful pair of perfectly fitting slippers.”
—RT Book Reviews (4 stars)
“I was enchanted with this story as Olivia Drake took the residents of Castle Kevern and this reader on an emotional, delightful journey. A magical fairy tale deserving to be read and read again!”
—Once Upon a Romance