“And that is the definition of sneaking!” She was on her feet again by this point, shouting at him and pointing her finger as if every single lesson in deportment and etiquette from Effie Darrow had been forgotten. She’d transformed into a shrill fishwife.
“It’s different!” Val insisted.
“Why? Because you’re a man? Men can die, too, can’t they? Pistol balls end lives regardless of one’s sex!” she all but snarled at him.
“No! Not because I’m a man but because I love you, damn it! I love you and I don’t want to see you hurt!”
“And I love you and don’t want to see you hurt!” she shouted back at him.
The room fell completely silent then except for the sound of harsh breathing. Both of them stood there, hands on hips, facing off like bare-knuckle boxers at a brawl with the admission of their feelings hanging in the air between them.
Finally, Val met her gaze and some of the heat had fled from his. “Do you?”
“Do I what?” she snapped, not quite willing to let go of the heat yet.
“Do you love me?”
Perhaps it was the uncertainty in his tone, or perhaps it was the overwhelming realization of what they’d just admitted to one another, but she dropped her arms to her sides and offered in a mildly grudging tone, “Maybe. Perhaps just a little.” When he grinned in response, she added, “And did you mean it?”
“Mean what?” he parried.
“Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” she demanded, enunciating each word through clenched teeth.
“Maybe. Perhaps just a little.”
With her own words thrown back in her face, the heat of the argument fled and she sank once more onto the chair. “I couldn’t let you be noble to the point of your own ruin. I never intended to put myself in danger, but if there was a way to get Elsworth out of it without seeing him tried for treason, I had to at least make the attempt.”
“To spare our future children shame?” he asked, dropping into the chair next to hers.
“Yes… and you, and your grandmother. Even in the short time that I’ve been with her, I can see that she has grown weaker. I don’t know that she could have borne it really, regardless of what she says,” Lilly admitted.
Val steepled his fingers in front of him. “Likely not. But I don’t think Elsworth got off as lucky as anyone would imagine. He’s not a man cut out for the tropics. Running a sugar plantation in Jamaica will likely be the death of him.”
“Or the making,” Lilly insisted. “It’s hard to know what a person is capable of until they are forced to find out.”
“And you, Lilly? What are you capable of?” he asked.
“Whatever I put my mind to,” she said.
“Does that include forgiving your mother, my grandmother, and even me?”
She smiled. “It does. I can’t say what things will be like for me and my mother going forward. We’re strangers, and yet I feel connected to her in a way that I cannot explain. And it feels good to know the truth, to know that she loved me more than she hated herself. I always thought her a coward, and now I have discovered she is anything but.”
Val reached for her hand, taking it in his and pulling her from her own chair until she sprawled inelegantly over his lap. His chair creaked rather ominously beneath their combined weight.
“I don’t think this chair was designed for two,” she pointed out.
“So long as we don’t wind up sprawled on the floor, it’ll be fine. I want to hold you for a while,” he admitted.
“Why? I’m not going anywhere,” she said with a grin of her own. “You told me you loved me and now you’re stuck with me forever.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, kissing her softly. “And I’m not holding you to keep you from leaving. I’m holding you because I can… because it’s a way of showing you how precious you are to me.”
Lilly’s heart skipped a beat. “You could show me in other ways.”
He gave her a look of mock outrage. “In the library, Lady Seaburn? You’re positively outrageous!”
“Well, we do have a bedchamber upstairs,” she pointed out.
He maneuvered them slightly in the narrow confines of the chair, until her thighs parted over his and they were face to face. “I think I’d rather see how outrageous you can be in a library. It’ll be salacious.”
“It certainly would be and you do know how much I like that word,” Lilly said as she read the challenge in his gaze. “I did tell you once that I don’t like rules.”
“More than once. Now it’s time to do more than tell me.”
She reached for his cravat, pulling the simple knot free and sliding it from around his neck. “Be careful what you ask for, Viscount Seaburn. You just might get it!”
Epilogue
New Year’s Eve
It wasn’t an overly large party. It consisted primarily of family, lacking Elsworth, of course. He’d set sail for Jamaica only three weeks earlier. There had been no trial for Lord Marchebanks, nor for his aunt-by-marriage, Margaret Hazleton, Lady Marchebanks. She’d succumbed to a fever that had far more to do with a hefty dose of laudanum than with any sort of illness. As for Lord Marchebanks, he’d suffered a worse fate. Too many men locked in prison were little more than down on their luck soldiers. A titled lord who’d chosen profit over the lives and limbs of his own countrymen had stood little chance locked behind bars with them.
“You’re awfully deep in thought.”
Val looked over to see that his wife had managed to sneak up on him. “You move like a cat.”
“Only to a very distracted mouse,” she replied with a laugh. “It’s a festive gathering, Valentine. Now is not the time to be thinking such serious things.”
“I was just wondering how Elsworth is faring aboard ship. He was never a very good sailor,” he explained.
“I know you’ll miss him. But I do not think he will miss you… not yet. You’ve cast a long shadow over him for too many years,” Lilly said softly. “When he’s had a chance to prove himself, to sink or swim on his own merits, perhaps things can be repaired between the two of you.”
“I shouldn’t care. He was very unkind to you.”
“He was a bully to me,” she answered. “Because he felt threatened by my presence and with very good reason. Our marriage was the hallmark of the end of all his expectations of a life of wealth and ease. Why would he not resent me? It would take a better man than most to swallow such a bitter pill.”
Val let his gaze travel over her, taking a moment in a room filled with people to appreciate the beauty, spirit, and intelligence of the woman his grandmother had essentially handpicked for him. “If I thought she wouldn’t throw it in my face for being a waste of money, I’d buy my grandmother the gaudiest diamond that Garrard’s has to offer.”
“Well, she would throw it back in your face… and why in heaven’s name would you do such a thing?”
He grinned. “To thank her for you. Of course, if I do, neither of us will live it down.”
Lilly cocked her head to one side. “Your grandmother may shun such extravagance, but I personally see nothing wrong with showing one’s appreciation for someone with jewelry.”
Val kissed her cheek. “And the sapphires I gave you for Christmas? Are they not an adequate demonstration of my affection and appreciation?”
Under his gaze, she lifted her hand to the sapphire and diamond necklace that sparkled about her throat. “They are lovely, aren’t they?”
“They’ll be lovelier when you’re wearing them and nothing else.”
There was a commotion from the doorway that interrupted his seduction of his wife. The butler entered, clearing his throat loudly, before announcing as if it were a grand ball and not a small family gathering, “Douglas Ashton, Lord Deveril, and Wilhelmina, Lady Deveril.” The stiff and always dour man sketched a bow that was worthy of any courtier and then vanished once more, a skill all impeccable servants possessed.
B
ut the rest of them were not so keen to observe formalities. Wilhelmina rushed across the room just as Lilly rushed toward her. The two women embraced and then giggled like school girls as they shared secrets and gossip. Effectively forgotten but hopeful it would only be temporary, Val made for his new brother-in-law.
“Congratulations are in order, I hear,” Val offered.
“On my wedding?”
“On the anticipated arrival of your heir,” Val answered.
“Oh, that. Hardly seems fair to be congratulated on something that seems to have damned little to do with me, doesn’t it?” Devil asked. “Look at them, would you? They’ve gone from being perfectly sensible women to sounding like those giggling magpies at Almack’s.”
Val laughed. “I’d hardly express that sentiment to either one of them. They’re rather like jackals, especially, I imagine, in defense of one another.”
“True enough,” Devil said. “I can’t have any brandy. Gave it up ages ago, but I’d certainly be up for a game of billiards if you’ve a mind.”
“Excellent,” Val said and led the other man toward the billiard room.
The minute the door closed, all hints of the affable rogue faded. “Now, you’ll tell me the truth,” Devil said. “Is she happy? Because I promised Willa that if she wasn’t, I’d run you through. I don’t want to, mind you, but rogue or no, I’m a man of my word.”
“She is happy,” Val answered. “And if she’s not, I’ll find a way to rectify that. I suppose this is the point where I tell you I was entrusted just this morning with the same task. I was informed that it was my duty to threaten you with grievous injury should you break my sister-in-law’s heart.”
Devil grinned and selected one of the carved cue sticks from the rack in the corner. “All right. We’ve each performed our familial duty and made appropriate threats to one another. Are we playing for money or will that get us both in trouble?”
“It will get us both in trouble,” Val said. “But I like to live dangerously.”
“Twenty pounds per game?”
“Seems reasonable enough,” Val agreed.
*
“Are you really happy?” Willa asked.
Lilly rolled her eyes heavenward. “I’d ask you when you became such a mother hen,” she admonished, placing one hand on the slightly rounded bump of her half-sister’s abdomen. “But I think it’s fairly obvious. And yes, for the umpteenth time, I couldn’t be happier!”
Willa sighed. “I know. I’m a worrier. I can’t help it. But you all married so quickly!”
“As did you!” Lilly responded. “He is very handsome though. I can certainly see why he tempted you to impropriety, my always perfectly-behaved half-sister!”
Willa grimaced. “I’m not so very proper.”
“Yes, you are. And it’s glorious to me to know that someone in your life means enough to you to sway you from the straight and narrow.”
Willa eyed her with curiosity. “And what about your mother? How are the two of you faring?”
Lilly smiled. “Better than I anticipated. I do not think we will ever have a traditional relationship… not as parent and child. But I find myself growing closer to her daily and I cannot help but be grateful that we have found ourselves reunited through this awful mess.”
With that explanation, Willa linked her arm through her half-sister’s and they strolled about the room. The dowager duchess was perched with her back stiff on the settee, Elizabeth sitting beside her. Effie was in their little clutch, speaking softly to them.
“Everyone we love is under this roof, save for Marina who is tucked into the dormitory at the Darrow School and likely being spoiled shamelessly by the girls there,” Lilly reflected.
“So they are,” Willa agreed. “And that circle seems to grow daily. Not too bad for two girls who started out entirely alone in the world, is it?”
Lilly laughed. “No, I don’t suppose it is. I am thankful every day that Effie found us. And for the longest time, that was all I had to be thankful for. Now every day brings new joys.”
“I don’t have resolutions for the New Year,” Willa said. “There is nothing I would change about my own life. But I do have a New Year’s wish.”
“And what is that?”
Willa looked around the room and then her gaze landed on Effie. “I wish that everyone we love will find the same kind of happiness that you and I have.”
The butler entered the room then, once more using his greatest oratory tone. “Nicholas Montford, Lord Highcliff.”
Lilly watched Effie as the man entered the room. She saw the other woman’s spine stiffen, saw her chin come up. It was as if tension had filled every part of her body. Then slowly, Effie’s head turned, just slightly. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the doorway. Lilly saw such longing and such heartbreak in her friend’s face that it nearly brought her to tears. To Willa, she responded, “That is the most wonderful wish and I will pray that it comes true.”
The End
The Hellion Club Series
A Rogue to Remember
Barefoot in Hyde Park
What Happens in Piccadilly
Sleepless in Southhampton
When an Earl Loves a Governess
The Duke’s Magnificent Obsession
The Governess Diaries
Author’s Note
Dear Readers,
Thank you all so much for the wonderful response that I’ve had to the first book in the Hellion Club Series, A Rogue to Remember. I hope that you’ve found just as much enjoyment in the story of Lilly and Val as you did in that of Devil and Willa. And I know that some of you all are chomping at the bit for the story of Effie and Highcliff. It’s coming. I PROMISE!!! But before Effie can have her happy ending, her charges need happy endings of their own. Effie’s story will be the last one in this series, but I promise to give you little glimpses of the burgeoning love story between our fierce headmistress and her obstinate object of affection as the series unfolds. The next book in this series will be What Happens in Piccadilly and I will be diving into it full force. Thank you again for reading!
Chasity Bowlin
About the Author
Chasity Bowlin lives in central Kentucky with her husband and their menagerie of animals. She loves writing, loves traveling and enjoys incorporating tidbits of her actual vacations into her books. She is an avid Anglophile, loving all things British, but specifically all things Regency.
Growing up in Tennessee, spending as much time as possible with her doting grandparents, soap operas were a part of her daily existence, followed by back to back episodes of Scooby Doo. Her path to becoming a romance novelist was set when, rather than simply have her Barbie dolls cruise around in a pink convertible, they time traveled, hosted lavish dinner parties and one even had an evil twin locked in the attic.
Website: www.chasitybowlin.com
The Song of Love
Book of Love, Book Four
Meara Platt
To all whose hearts are filled with the song of love
Chapter One
London, England
May 1820
One hour.
Romulus Brayden could not have been in his new townhouse on Chipping Way for more than an hour before the Chipping Way curse did him in. He’d heard about it. Had laughed it off. So, he had only himself to blame for being caught in his kitchen with the delectable Miss Violet Farthingale, both of them reeking of vinegar, and her gown unlaced.
“I can explain, Uncle John,” Violet said as his neighbor, John Farthingale, and two of his brothers charged in on them while Violet sat on the lone kitchen stool, and Romulus knelt beside her, his hands too far up her legs to shrug off the appearance of impropriety.
“Blame it on the bees,” Violet said with a huff as two more uninvited guests barged in. “Oh, good day, Lady Dayne. So nice to see you, Lady Withnall.”
Lady Eloise Dayne resided at Number Five Chipping Way, and the Farthingales resided at Number Thr
ee. Romulus had just purchased the townhouse known as Number One, which was divided from the Farthingale home by a large, stone wall…obviously, not large enough.
Lady Dayne and the Farthingales had lived on this usually quiet street for years, but the ink was hardly dry on Romulus’s new purchase. It was so new in fact, he had yet to have the elegant residence properly staffed or furnished. For this reason, he and Violet were found alone in his home.
Romulus knew he was done for. He removed his hands from Violet’s legs and rose to stare down at the diminutive Lady Withnall, London’s most prolific gossip, silently imploring her not to spread word of this completely innocent misunderstanding.
He supposed he ought to put on his shirt. Or help lace up Violet’s gown now that they were gathering quite a crowd.
“What bees?” John Farthingale intoned, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at Romulus as though he wanted to kill him. He then turned his scowl on Violet, looking at her as though he was going to lock her in her bedchamber for the rest of her life.
Romulus moved to stand protectively beside Violet who appeared quite calm about this whole unhappy affair. His own heart was beating so hard and fast, it was about to burst. To make matters worse, he could not look at Violet in her state of undress without fireworks going off inside his body, and everyone but Violet seemed to know it.
“You see,” she started, taking a deep breath that caused his eyes to bulge as they darted to the magnificent swell of her bosom. Her gown was unlaced—he could explain—exposing the creamy softness of her shoulders along with said magnificent swell of her bosom.
Avert your gaze, you arse.
But it was too late. He’d been caught looking by everyone presently standing in the kitchen. Again, everyone but Violet who took no notice of him as she pressed on with her explanation. “The children were playing with their slingshots in the garden, shooting rocks at the acorns in the oak tree. Well, they were pebbles, really. I was reading under the tree. You know, it was that book Poppy gave me.”
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