His Unsuitable Viscountess

  He put two fingers over her mouth, stilling her.

  ‘You may be very intelligent and single-minded, Ellie, but sometimes you display no more sense than a goose.’ His arm tightened about her. ‘Your imperfections are what I love about you. And how could I fall instantly in love with you tonight when I already am and have been for weeks?’

  Eleanor froze. She had to have heard wrong. Ben might care about her but he didn’t love her. He loved his late wife. She’d accepted that. That was why they were standing beside her grave—so he could explain it clearly. ‘Love? You are in love with me?’

  ‘I love you, Eleanor Blackwell Grayson, because of who you are—not who you might be or who anyone else, including yourself, thinks you ought to be. You are the light and essence of my new life.’

  ‘But...but...I will never be as socially adept and graceful as your mother, or indeed your late wife. Although it is fun for a little while, I find it hard to be excited about the trim on the bottom of my skirt.’

  ‘Alice?’ There was genuine puzzlement in his voice. ‘Why on earth would I want you to be like her?’

  ‘Because you loved her and you will always love her.’ Eleanor gestured towards the grave. ‘You brought me here to tell me that.’

  ‘The boy I was will always love her. But I have never sought a replacement for her. Her death changed me. The boy I was died and I became a man. I require different things from my life.’ Ben put his arm about her and led her from the graveyard. ‘We have spent enough time here, Ellie. We need to get back to living our lives.’

  When they had settled in the carriage and it had started towards the townhouse, Ben continued. ‘If I had wanted to marry someone just like Alice there were a hundred other women with her accomplishments. My mother made a hobby of training them. I married you.’

  ‘Because you felt sorry for me and played the errant knight,’ Eleanor protested, not quite ready to believe him.

  ‘No, to save my soul. You were wrong that day when you said that I suffer from complacency. It was far worse. My life was becoming narrower and narrower. Slowly and steadily I had cut myself off from everything. I was existing, waiting to die. Then you happened.’

  Eleanor stared at his profile in the darkened carriage and tried to digest what he was saying. He loved her because she had brought him back to life. ‘What did I do?’

  ‘You didn’t let me win. Worse than that, you clearly demonstrated how my arrogance and complacency had led to my downfall. You forced me to re-examine my life.’

  ‘I beat you in a fencing match. Your grip was appalling. You thoroughly deserved to lose. But I don’t understand—why did that make you want to marry me?’

  He brought her hand to his lips. ‘Alice always let me win.’

  ‘And that was bad?’

  ‘Nobody wants to win all the time, Ellie.’ He gave a soft laugh that made a warm curl circle about her insides. ‘Just sometimes—when they deserve it. It makes the winning all the sweeter. And they want to think the other person will fight back.’

  ‘But you said—love.’

  ‘I started falling in love with you when my sword destroyed your hat.’ He shook his head. ‘Your face was priceless. It was the first time I had truly laughed in years. In that instant I stopped existing and started living again.’

  ‘I never liked that hat. It met a just end.’ Her heart did a little flip. All these weeks she’d been so blind, so wrapped in trying to win Ben’s love, that she’d failed to see Ben already loved her. It had been there in the way he’d taken an interest in Moles, how he’d insisted that she fence, and most especially when they’d made love. Like him, she’d been too scared to admit it. ‘You came awfully close to winning.’

  ‘I could have killed Viv when he arrived. A few more heartbeats and I would have kissed you. I wanted to. It was the first time I had desired something like that since...since Alice died.’

  ‘Out of all the women in the world, I was the one you wanted to kiss?’

  ‘You were the only one. You are the only one. You complete my life.’ He gestured towards the bright lights. ‘All that means nothing without you.’

  Eleanor trembled. He had desired her even then. The thought amazed her. She had been so wrong and misguided, so intent on her misery that she’d failed to understand how special she was to him.

  ‘Was that the only reason you married me?’ she breathed. ‘Because I made you laugh?’

  ‘That made me want to pursue you. That is why I showed up at Moles. There I saw how much heart you had and how strong you were. How much you gave of yourself to keep that forge going, and how much you were willing to give without asking for anything in return. I knew I wanted a piece of your heart.’ His hand cupped the back of her head. ‘Do I have a piece of your heart? Are the words you said before the ball true? Or did I kill them?’

  ‘I love you, Ben. I have loved you since I first met you.’ Eleanor stopped. ‘No, that’s wrong. I desired your touch, and then my love grew gradually as I learnt about the worthiness of the man I married. You may have hurt me earlier because I didn’t understand, but now I do. And I am in wonder that I was so blind.’

  ‘No, we both were.’ He rubbed his thumb along her mouth, sent fresh tingles thrumming through her. ‘But now we know the truth. Actions prove far more than words.’

  ‘However, I plan on whispering my love to you whenever I wish, and I hope you will consider it as well. Something like love shouldn’t be saved for special occasions. It should be celebrated every day.’

  His rich laughter rang out. ‘There are so many reasons why I love you.’

  She pulled his face down to hers. ‘And I you. Shall we go home?’

  ‘I can’t think of any place I’d rather be, as long as we are together.’

  Epilogue

  Eighteen months later

  She enjoyed this moment of the day best of all, Eleanor decided, looking down at the cradle where her four-month-old baby son slept with a small milk bubble on his lips. The house was hushed and all was right with her world. She was able to lavish love on those who loved her back equally fiercely.

  ‘It took an age to get him to sleep. I don’t think we will have time for a game of chess tonight.’

  ‘You should let the nurse do it,’ Ben said softly.

  ‘I enjoy it far too much. And I know it is far from fashionable, but I refuse to have a wet nurse.’

  ‘This has to be better for him. Luckily Johnson is proving an able manager for Moles. It goes from strength to strength—particularly as this blasted war with Napoleon seems to be never-ending. I can’t see a time when England won’t need swords.’

  ‘Mr Johnson swears he is only following the path that I set out, but I know he and Mr Swaddle have plans to expand and find new markets for the steel just in case.’

  She found it hard to believe how much easier it was now that she’d stopped trying to do everything and had allowed other people to pursue their dreams and innovations.

  ‘So you are planning on having our son run an empire?’

  ‘I want him to be able to follow his dreams.’

  James made a little sucking noise and flung out his arms.

  ‘I suspect, whatever those dreams are, he will.’

  ‘Hush, you’ll wake him.’ Eleanor tucked the blanket in tighter but James gave a sweep of his hand and the blanket slipped again. ‘Why can’t the blanket stay tucked in?’

  ‘James is a born fighter and stubborn. He wants what he wants and the world needs to be remade that way,’ Ben remarked, coming to put his arms about her waist. ‘Takes after his mother.’

  ‘His father.’

  He laughed. At the sound of Ben’s laugh Romeo looked up from where he lay, guarding the cradle.

  ‘Both of us, then. We know he comes by it hones
tly.’

  Eleanor leant back in his arms. ‘He is his own person, though.’

  ‘He always has been. He came into the world determined to make his mark.’

  Eleanor put her hands over Ben’s. ‘He’s been his own person since the very beginning.’

  The pregnancy had been different from her first pregnancy. She couldn’t explain it exactly. Her body had felt different—not as bloated or tender—and she had not been able to look at a piece of cheese without being queasy. Even so she had not dared to believe until she’d felt a hard kick to her bladder. Ben and she had been playing a game of chess, and she’d been so startled that she had allowed him to take her queen. But once she’d told him and her stomach had begun to move they had both believed.

  She knew the day James had been born was one of the happiest days of their lives—even if it had been traumatic for Ben. Despite Eleanor’s assurances he had become irate, and had refused to leave the room until he knew that both of them were safe and well.

  ‘And I am very lucky to have you both in my life,’ Ben rumbled in her ear.

  ‘Not luck but skill.’ Eleanor thought back to the long-ago spring day when she had wondered what the right words to get a man to marry you were. She decided that words didn’t matter. Actions did.

  She turned and captured Ben’s lips. He brought his arms around her. And they stood there in the circle of their happiness.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt of My Fair Concubine by Jeannie Lin!

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  Chapter One

  China, Tang Dynasty—AD 824

  Fei Long faced the last room at the end of the narrow hallway, unsheathed his sword and kicked the door open.

  A feminine shriek pierced the air along with the frantic shuffle of feet as he strode through the entrance. The boarding room was a small one set above the teahouse below. The inhabitants, a man and a woman, flung themselves into the corner with nowhere to hide.

  His gaze fixed on to the woman first. His sister’s hair was unbound and her eyes wide with fear. Pearl had their mother’s thoughtful features: the high forehead and the sharp angles that had softened since the last time he’d seen her. She was dressed only in pale linen underclothes. The man who was with her had enough daring to step in between them.

  Fei Long glanced once to the single wooden bed against one wall, the covers strewn wide, and his vision blurred with anger. He gripped the sword until his knuckles nearly cracked with the strain.

  ‘Bastard,’ he gritted out through his teeth.

  He knew this man he’d come to kill. This boy. At least Han had been a boy when Fei Long had last seen him. And Pearl had been a mere girl. Now she was a grown woman, staring at him as if he were a demon risen from the underworld.

  ‘Fei Long.’ Pearl’s fingers curled tight over her lover’s arm. ‘So now you’ve come.’

  The soft bitterness of the accusation cut through him. Pearl had begged for him to come back a year earlier when her marriage had first been arranged, but he’d dismissed her letters as childish ramblings. If he had listened, she might not have thrown herself into ruin and their father’s spirit wouldn’t be floating restlessly between heaven and earth.

  The young man stretched himself before Fei Long, though he failed to match him in stature. ‘Not in front of Pearl,’ he implored.

  Though he trembled, the boy fought to keep his voice steady as Pearl clung to him, hiding just behind his shoulder. At least the dog managed to summon some courage. If Han had cowered or begged for his life, he would already be dead.

  ‘Step away, Little Sister,’ Fei Long commanded.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Pearl.’

  ‘I’d rather die here with Han than go to Khitan.’

  She’d changed in the five years since he’d seen her. The Pearl he remembered had been obedient, sweet-tempered and pleasant in all things. Fei Long had ridden hard from Changan to this remote province, expecting to find the son of a dog who had stolen her away.

  Now that she stood before him with quiet defiance, he knew she hadn’t been seduced or deceived. Zheng Xie Han’s family lived within their ward in the capital city. Though lower in standing, the Zheng family had always maintained a good reputation. His sister had turned to Han because she’d had no one else.

  The tension drained out of Fei Long, stealing away his rage. His throat pulled tight as he forced out the next word. ‘Go.’

  The two of them stared at him in disbelief.

  ‘Go,’ he repeated roughly.

  Fei Long lowered his weapon and turned away while they dressed themselves. Shoving his sword back into its sheath, he faced the bare wall. He could hear the shuffle of movement behind him as the couple gathered their belongings.

  The bleakness of the last few weeks settled into his gut like a stone. When he’d left for his assignment to the north-western garrison, Fei Long had believed his home to be a harmonious place. Upon news of his father’s sudden death, he’d returned to find his sister gone and debt collectors circling the front gates like vultures.

  His father’s presence had been an elaborate screen, hiding the decay beneath the lacquered surface of their lives. Fei Long now saw Pearl’s arranged marriage for what it was: a desperate ploy to restore the family honour—or rather to prolong the illusion of respectability.

  When he turned again, Pearl and Han stood watching him tentatively. Each of them had a pack slung around their shoulder. Off to face the horizon with all their belongings stowed in two small bags.

  Han bowed once. ‘Elder Brother.’

  The young man risked Fei Long’s temper to deliver the honorific. Fei Long couldn’t bring himself to return the bow. Pearl met his eyes as they started for the door. The heaviness of her expression struck him like a physical blow.

  This was the last time he would ever see his sister.

  Fei Long took his money pouch from his belt and held it out. The handful of coppers rattled inside. ‘Here.’

  Han didn’t look at him as he took it.

  ‘Thank you, Fei Long,’ Pearl whispered.

  They didn’t embrace. The two of them had been apart for so long that they wouldn’t have known how. Fei Long watched their backs as they retreated down the stairway; gone like everything else he had once known to be true.

  * * *

  ‘Jilted lover,’ the cook guessed.

  Yan Ling’s eyes grew wide. The stranger had stormed up the staircase only moments earlier with a sword strapped to his side and the glint of murder in his deep-set eyes. She’d leapt out of the path of his charge, just managing to hold on to her pot of tea without spilling a drop.

  She stood at the edge of the main room, head cocked to listen for sounds of mayhem upstairs. Her heart raced as she grip
ped the handle of the teapot. Such violence and scandal were unthinkable in their quiet town.

  ‘Should someone stop him?’ she asked.

  ‘What? You saw how he was dressed.’ Old Cook had his feet in the kitchen, but the rest of him strained as far into the dining area as possible. ‘A man like that can do whatever he wants.’

  ‘Get back to work,’ the proprietor barked.

  Yan Ling jumped and the cook ducked his head back through the beaded curtain that separated the main room from the kitchen.

  ‘Worthless girl,’ her master muttered as she rushed the pot of tea to its intended table. She pressed her fingers against the ceramic to check the temperature of the pot before setting it down. Cooler than ideal, but still hot enough to not get any complaints.

  It was late in the morning and the patrons had thinned, but that was never an excuse to move any slower. Lately it seemed nothing she did was fast or efficient enough. She’d never known any life but the teahouse. The story was she’d been abandoned as an infant in the room upstairs, likely the very same one where a new scandal was now unfolding.

  She paused to stack empty cups onto a tray. At that moment, the young woman and her companion hurried down the stairs, leaving not even a farewell behind as they swept out the door. Yan Ling expected the sword-carrying nobleman to come chasing after them, but only an uncomfortable silence followed their exit.

  The patrons began to whisper among themselves. Her master should be happy. This incident would have the townsfolk lingering over more than a few extra teapots worth of gossip.

  When he finally emerged, the gentleman appeared surprisingly calm. He descended the stairs with a steady, powerful stride and his expression was as still as the surface of the moon. Instead of leaving, he marched directly over to the proprietor and flashed an official-looking jade seal. At that point, even the proprietor’s wife flocked over to welcome him. They ushered him to an empty table at the centre of the room, nearly breaking their backs bowing with such enthusiasm. Her master shot Yan Ling a sharp look, which she understood immediately. Bring tea and fast. She rushed to the kitchen.