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Regency for all Seasons: A Regency Romance Collection

Page 83

by Mary Lancaster


  “It is the escort vessel to the fleet admiral’s flagship.”

  “Oh, Romulus, what an honor!” She studied his features. He had looked glum all afternoon and even more so now. “Isn’t it an honor?”

  He nodded. “Yes, it’s what I’d hoped for during my years of service. But not anymore. Chasing pirates off the coast of Cornwall is one thing. I’m never more than a few days’ ride from home. But the Lord Admiral and his flagship are often sent on diplomatic missions around the world. At any moment, I could be given duties that may keep me away from you for years.”

  She gasped. “Years?”

  “I know it isn’t fair of me to ask, but I must. I want you for my wife, Violet. I can’t lose you. I couldn’t bear it.”

  “Nor could I.” She slid her hands around his neck. “Romulus, you won’t ever lose me. My heart is yours forever. I don’t need a book to tell me this. If we marry, would I be allowed to sail with you?”

  “Into danger? Blessed saints! Do you think I would ever agree to put your life in peril?”

  A shudder ran through her. “Then this posting is dangerous, not merely diplomacy.”

  He groaned. “I don’t know. One never knows who or what one might encounter when sailing around the world.”

  “You’ll be on the ocean then? Yes, of course. The ship is called Song of the Ocean, so that’s where you shall sail. No short forays off the Cornwall coast.” She meant to say more, but the wine she’d imbibed and her sharp intake of air caused her to hiccup again.

  “The Plover, that was my ship, will soon have a new captain to sail her along the Cornwall coast.”

  “Why not keep you there in your new vessel?”

  “Song of the Ocean is too mighty a frigate to be used merely to chase down local pirates. Besides, she’s too big for most Cornish harbors. Her hull would break apart upon the rocks.”

  She blinked, struggling to make sense of it all. But her mind was in a fog, her brain dulled when she needed to be sober to fully understand the implications of his assignment. She couldn’t have had more than two or three glasses of wine, but she’d never had more than half a glass before. It was surprising how quickly the smooth liquid could flow into one’s head and make it spin.

  Of course, it explained why her inhibitions were loosened enough to play along with Romulus’s cousins and half sing, half croak that silly frog song. But there was no silliness now. She was not going to play the coy miss and lose Romulus, perhaps for years.

  Dear heaven, perhaps forever if he was killed in battle. “Would you consider resigning your commission?”

  He drew her tighter in his embrace. “Do you want me to?”

  “I cannot give you an answer. I don’t understand what the assignment means for you, so the decision must be yours. I will support your choice, no matter the consequences. But I want you to do what pleases you, not what you think will please me.”

  “Even if it means we’d be apart for years while I’m escorting the Lord Admiral on his diplomatic missions to India or China?”

  She nodded. “Even if it means that…but only if it makes you happy to be doing this.”

  “Our years apart would not be wasted. When I return, I’ll likely be made an admiral of the fleet.”

  “Your reason to be,” she said in a whisper, wanting him and not his accolades. But this was part of who Romulus was, a man wrapped up in honor and duty and love of the sea.

  He kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Never mind, Violet. I realize I am asking too much of you. It isn’t fair that we should marry tomorrow and then not see each other for years. Nor is it fair to deprive you of having your parents and sister present to witness the most important day of your life.”

  “Romulus, there is no choice.”

  He nodded. “I know. Sorry I raised it.”

  “You misunderstand. My Aunt Sophie is a marvel. If anyone can organize a wedding party by tomorrow afternoon, it is she. A simple one, of course. Only immediate family presently in London. I don’t want to wait either. My sister is ripe as a melon, expecting her and Nathaniel’s second child any moment now. I doubt she will travel in her delicate condition, nor will Nathaniel dare to leave her side. My parents won’t be back from their trip for at least another month. Perhaps longer. I will marry you now. This instant, if it is possible. I’d rather have a day with you as your wife than a lifetime with anyone else.”

  She cast him a smile filled with all the love she held in her heart. “I don’t need to read a book to know this. Whatever happens, I’m yours and will always be.”

  He kissed her on the lips, a gentle kiss this time, one filled with sweetness and a lingering relief. “Let’s talk to your aunt and uncle. Are they home? Or have they gone out for the evening?”

  “Home.”

  He held her back a moment when Pruitt opened the front door to allow them in. “Thank you, Violet,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry, but if this new posting is made official, it is also possible I’ll be missing your recital.”

  Goodness, she hadn’t thought of that.

  She could get over his missing it. What she would not get over was never seeing him again. She knew it was eating at his insides as much as it was eating at hers. She was ready to burst into tears, but force herself to put on a brave facade. She did not want him to remember her as a watering pot. “You won’t be there for my recital?”

  He nodded. “Probably not. I’m so sorry.”

  She looked up at him, her eyebrows arched and a skeptical look on her face, knowing how much he detested these evening musicales. But he would have endured for her sake. She would do the same for him. She forced a slow smile to her lips, shaking her head with a merriment she did not feel. She shook her head and chuckled lightly. “No, you’re not.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Romulus did not expect John or Sophie Farthingale to be happy about his desire to make Violet his wife within a day. However, he knew they had no choice but to accept. The betrothal contract had been signed. Consents all around had been given. Lady Withnall was still a loose, gossiping cannon.

  Protecting Violet was all that mattered.

  If his duties called him away for the next year or two, Violet would remain at risk of ruin if word got out about the bee incident and she was still unmarried.

  The matter was simple and obvious. He had to marry Violet now. It was the only way to protect her, no matter what might befall him. “Very well,” John said with a sigh, turning to Sophie. “Can you manage on such short notice, my love?”

  Violet’s aunt smiled at all of them. “I adore weddings. I’ll be ready by four o’clock tomorrow afternoon. You had all better show up on time or Mrs. Mayhew and I will be quite put out.”

  She immediately jumped into action, rattling off a list of what needed to be done. Romulus was not allowed to move from his seat before giving her a list of his family to be invited.

  “I’ll leave the official license paperwork to you men. Who will officiate the ceremony? Oh, I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’ll leave that task to you men as well.”

  Romulus nodded. “I’ll take care of it, Mrs. Farthingale.”

  She gave a curt nod and turned to Violet. “We will have to pack your belongings and move them next door. Good thing you’re only moving one house down. When your trunks are packed, Amos will carry them over.” She shook her head and smiled. “Good thing he’s the size of an ox. He’ll manage it in one trip. Oh, Captain Brayden, will you have Violet’s quarters ready? Shall I send over–”

  Romulus had been holding Violet’s hand all the while and now gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ve hired Mrs. Mayhew’s nieces, Cora and Mary. They’ll take care of unpacking Violet’s belongings. Everything will be in good order for her.”

  Violet cast him the softest smile. “I’ll hop back and forth between the houses. We’ll get everything done in time. Whatever isn’t moved tomorrow can always be moved the following day. I’m not going far.”

  In truth, this ease
d Romulus greatly. Although he was eager to have Violet in his arms and in his bed, their bliss would only last for a night or two. Perhaps three. After that, he’d be gone, and she would be alone in the house.

  The staff would be there, of course.

  But Violet would not have him beside her. He did not like to leave her alone and unprotected.

  She’d spoken earlier of two more Farthingale cousins arriving shortly for their come-outs. He’d make certain to have his guest rooms cleaned and furnished so that Belle and Honey could stay with Violet while he was away.

  He’d ask Finn to stop by every day to make certain all was well. He was involved in the charity recital anyway, so it was a plausible excuse for him to come around, at least until the business of the recital was over. James and Sophie would look in on Violet often, although James did not always have good days. Many times, he was bedridden and in pain.

  Romulus felt the familiar ache to his heart at the thought of his brother’s constant pain. He would impose on them as little as possible.

  As for his sister, Gabrielle, she was married and had her own brood to worry about. Besides, she and her husband lived outside of London. Well, he’d put all the Brayden cousins to work looking after Violet whenever James and Sophie couldn’t. The Farthingale clan would also be close at hand, as would Lady Dayne. At some point, Violet’s parents would return from their extended trip and lend her a hand.

  Lord, would his in-laws move into his home permanently?

  He stifled a grimace, determined to endure if it made Violet happy.

  Yes, both families would look after her in his absence. He’d get their oaths on it. He’d be mad with worry otherwise.

  “I’ll send my portfolio of songs to Lord Forester with my apologies that I cannot meet him and his sister tomorrow,” Violet said, breaking into his thoughts. “They can choose the songs without me. They don’t need my input. I’ll sing whichever ones they select. Finn can meet with them to discuss the financial arrangements and set up the charity bank account. Dillie and Daisy have already volunteered to help with the donors since they know everyone in town.”

  She sighed. “I suppose this recital is a good thing in more ways than one. It will keep me busy while you prepare to leave.”

  Romulus merely grunted. It bothered him that she would be around Forester and his sister, but he said nothing. After all, this recital was important to her, and he had no intention of undermining it. Also, Violet’s aunt had the wedding arrangements well in hand. There was little Violet could do to contribute when Sophie Farthingale was a master at last minute arrangements for a horde of unexpected guests.

  Singing was Violet’s solace. If it helped her get through losing a husband within a day or two of marrying him, who was he to complain? What would she do once the recital was over? He hoped they would have the chance to discuss it before he was called away.

  John Farthingale smacked his hands on his desk and rose. “I suppose that takes care of everything. I’ll see you first thing in the morning, Brayden.”

  Romulus nodded and rose as well.

  As they began to disband, Violet suddenly threw herself into his arms and hugged him fiercely. He was caught unawares and laughed softly. “What’s this?”

  She burrowed against his chest. “I’m so happy and yet so sad at the same time.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “I know, sweetheart. Me, too.”

  “I won’t let you down, Romulus.”

  “You couldn’t, Violet. Not ever.”

  It still troubled him that she felt she had to prove herself worthy of him.

  Of him, dear heaven!

  He was ready to erect a beehive shrine to the bees who had brought them together. He was determined to place The Book of Love under museum quality glass to preserve it forever. He was grateful for whatever magic had brought them together.

  By this time tomorrow, Violet would be his wife. He was going to explore every sensation written in that book in intimate depth. He couldn’t wait to touch her silken skin, taste her rosebud lips, breathe in her delicate scent. He’d already had fantasies about rousing her passion and evoking her breathy moans as she reached her release.

  He would claim her in every way possible.

  Low brain.

  High brain.

  Low brain again.

  Yes, his low brain would be fully in charge as he embedded himself in her body as deeply as she was embedded in his soul.

  And she was worried to disappoint him?

  Blessed saints! He was on-his-knees grateful for her… and worried as hell over what Forester’s real intentions were for Violet. The man would do nothing while Romulus was around.

  But what would happen once he sailed from England?

  *

  The day was warm and filled with sunshine, a perfect day for a wedding. Violet squinted up at the sky and smiled. She had a bit of work to do before the ceremony, but none of it felt daunting, for each moment that passed drew her closer to her heart’s desire.

  She’d carefully wrapped her music parchments in a large portfolio last night and had also written a note to Jameson before retiring to bed. She brought both to Pruitt. “I need a footman to deliver these to Lord Forester this morning. Can you spare a man?”

  “Consider it done, Miss Violet.” He took her bundle and note, and immediately went off to summon one of the Farthingale footmen.

  She returned upstairs to help her maid pack her belongings. But Martha was most efficient, and the chore did not take long. Within the hour, they were ready for Amos to cart the trunks next door. “I’ll walk over with him and start hanging them in your new quarters, Miss Violet.”

  “Thank you, Martha. I’ll be along in a moment.” She’d brought to London little more than gowns, shoes, and the accessories required for making one’s come-out in fashionable style. She hadn’t had cause to wear any of these gowns in the quiet Cotswolds town where she’d grown up. The assemblies and routs held in the countryside were far more casual. These delicately embroidered silks and satins would never suit.

  She realized they would not suit now either.

  These demure, white silk and lace confections were not worn by married ladies. Perhaps she’d have them altered with an overlay of sarcenet in blues or greens to better suit her marital status.

  Better yet, she would give the gowns to Belle and Honey, for they were all of a similar height and weight. Knowing their parents and their utter devotion to their perfume shops, it was quite likely her two cousins would arrive in town with no suitable gowns to wear.

  She watched Martha and Amos take her wardrobe to Romulus’s home, and then hurried downstairs to see if her aunt and Mrs. Mayhew required help. All was in hand, and she was merely underfoot, so she walked next door to see if she could be useful in what was to be her new home.

  She was a little disappointed to learn Romulus was not home yet. He’d gone off with her uncle early this morning to secure the minister and the special license. She hoped he would return soon. However, she was excited and her brain was so scattered at the moment, she doubted she could hold so much as a simple conversation with him.

  She’d be a squealing, giggling simpleton.

  But this was not how she wished the staff to think of her, so she gathered her wits about her and informally introduced herself to those she encountered as she wandered from room to room.

  The Mayhew sisters knew of her, of course. Since the elder was the new housekeeper, it went a long way to making the rest of the staff feel at ease around her, but not so at ease they’d forget she would be the mistress of the house within a few, short hours.

  She tried to remain cool and efficient as she entered the bedchamber she and Romulus would share. After all, it made sense that she should direct where her clothes were to be placed. But Farthingales simply did not know how to hide their thoughts or feelings. She blushed to her roots the moment she stepped inside and saw the massive bed.

  Well, it wasn’t really massive
, just the usual size of a marriage bed…if one knew about such things. Which she didn’t. But she understood what would take place there tonight. Suddenly feeling all eyes upon her, she turned to leave, and bumped into a solid, muscled wall.

  Romulus!

  “You’re back,” she said, breathlessly stating the obvious.

  He grinned and patted his hand against his breast pocket. “All is arranged. I have the license right here.” He grazed his knuckles affectionately against her hot cheek. “If your face were any hotter, it would burst into flames.”

  She sighed. “I should not have come up here.”

  “Why not? This is to be your bedchamber as much as mine.” He nodded toward the bed, and his grin widened when he noticed her blush deepen. “Ah, this embarrasses you.”

  “Everyone is aware what will take place here tonight,” she said in a whisper. “I have no one to blame but myself. I insisted upon this.”

  He took her hand. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  “No. Dear me, no.” She was still whispering, which he obviously thought was extremely amusing. “But everyone knows, and they’re all smirking.”

  “Let them.” He chuckled, and then continued in a low voice that surely was easily heard by the staff in the room who were doing their best not to appear to be listening in. “This may not be a common arrangement among the nobility, but we’re not part of that elevated society. I haven’t any titles to my name.”

  “Nor do I.”

  “You don’t?” he said with a teasing arch of his eyebrow and wrapped her in his arms as he feigned indignation. “I’ve been had. Trapped by a scheming, young miss and her loyal, bee minions.” Since the maids were now giggling at his remark, Romulus led her downstairs. “Come with me.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the kitchen. I’m starved for food as well as for your delectable body. Since I can’t have you…yet, I’ll have to settle for a meal. A big one. As I said, I’m starved.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you noticed? Your house is in upheaval. Mrs. Mayhew’s niece takes her job as housekeeper quite seriously. She’s making certain every room is thoroughly cleaned from top to bottom. This includes your kitchen.”

 

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