by Diane Gaston
Concern shone in his eyes. She could not bear it. She nodded.
He smiled at her, drinking her in with his gaze. ‘I see Serena found a dress for you.’
‘She has been kind.’
The Marchioness had taken Madeleine and Linette under her wing as soon as they reached Heronvale. They were cosseted and pampered, cleaned up, and dressed in clothes that were hurriedly found in attic trunks.
He put his arm around her and tucked her next to him. She rested her head on his shoulder. It was enticingly comfortable.
‘Where is Linette?’ he asked.
‘I believe the Marquess and Marchioness took her to the stables.’
‘Ah, that should please her.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘Did you visit Sophie?’
‘Yes.’
Sophie had burst into tears when she’d seen her. Madeleine held her and rocked her as if she had been Linette.
‘Did you…settle things?’ Madeleine asked.
There had been much commotion when they arrived at Heronvale. Devlin had carried the injured Jem on his horse. They had left Farley’s body where it lay.
He snuggled her closer to him. ‘All is set right, Maddy. Ned spoke to the magistrate, and no further enquiry will be required.’
She closed her eyes. ‘I thought I would enjoy killing him.’
He stroked her hair. ‘Death is not something to enjoy, but you did not kill him, my love. His own treachery did that.’
He should not call her his love, she thought. Did he now feel even more obligated to her? He should not.
She turned her gaze to the scene from the window. ‘Heronvale is very beautiful,’ she said.
‘I am pleased you like it.’
His arm felt so strong around her and his body warmed hers. She wished she could remain in his warmth and strength forever, but it was time to settle the matters between them, as well.
‘Perhaps Linette would be happy here.’
‘Linette?’
Madeleine pulled away from him. He regarded her with a puzzled expression.
‘I have decided that I should…should agree for Linette to be adopted by the Marquess.’
Devlin’s brows lifted. ‘Are you mad?’
‘It would be best for her, do you not think?’ She forced herself to speak casually.
‘No, I do not think.’ He scowled. ‘Perhaps you had better tell me where this addled-brained idea came from.’
She rose from the settee and folded her arms across her chest. ‘Well, they can offer her so much more than I. I am persuaded her life would have more advantages.’ She walked toward the window. ‘She would still see you from time to time, as well.’
He stood as well, matching her tone, but with an edge of sarcasm. ‘And where will you be while Linette has this idyll?’
‘Oh, I shall do well, I think. You needn’t concern yourself.’
He gripped her by the shoulders. ‘Tell me what this is about.’
She avoided his eyes. ‘My sister Emily visited me—’
He interrupted her. ‘And she said I was to marry her. Well, I am not.’
Madeleine tried to pull away from his grasp, but he would not release her. She tried to boldly meet his eye. ‘She told me you did not court her, but another lady. The Diamond of the ton.’
He blinked in surprise. ‘Amanda Reynolds? Not exactly so.’
‘I met Miss Reynolds, Devlin,’ Madeleine said, her voice soft. ‘She would make you a lovely wife.’
‘You met Amanda Reynolds as well?’ His hand flew up in surprise. ‘I was only absent a few hours.’
She continued earnestly. ‘She is beautiful, Devlin. The catch of the Season, Emily said. And I thought she had such kind eyes…’
‘Damn her eyes!’ he barked. ‘What do her eyes matter to me?’ He grabbed her shoulders again. ‘I am not going to marry Amanda Reynolds.’
She pulled back.
‘Do you know why I came here, Maddy?’ He spoke softly.
She shook her head.
‘It was to inform my brother that I would marry you.’
Her gaze shot up.
‘You, Maddy. Not your sister. Not Amanda Reynolds. You. It is you I love.’
She stared at him, her eyes wide and wary.
He gazed at her with tenderness. ‘I came to inform my brother that I would marry you. I did not ask his approval. I checked with my old regiment. If I rejoin the cavalry, I may be able to support you and Linette, if you can bear following the drum. Others have done it, Maddy. Perhaps we can, too.’
‘Follow the drum,’ she repeated.
‘We may be sent to Canada, at best, although it might be Africa or India or some other ungodly place, but we would be together.’
‘You cannot mean to rejoin the army. Not after Waterloo.’
He set his jaw firmly. ‘I can master Waterloo.’
She reached up and stroked his cheek with the back of her soft hand. ‘But what of your inheritance? Your estate?’
‘What good is money to me, my love, if you and Linette are not with me?’
‘Oh, Devlin,’ she whispered, ‘have we not always known we could not be together?’
‘We must be together, Maddy.’
Laughter sounded in the hallway. Ned and Serena walked in the room, Ned carrying Linette on his shoulders. He leaned over and flipped her over, causing a squeal of delight.
‘Mama!’ Linette ran over to Madeleine and jumped into her arms. ‘I saw a pony and Markiss let me ride her!’
‘That is wonderful, sweetling.’ Madeleine hugged her daughter for a moment before the child squirmed out of her arms, reaching for Devlin. He squatted down to her level, giving her his total attention, though she told him exactly what she’d told her mother.
Madeleine stared at them, trying to memorise the moment. It was so beautiful, it hurt.
The Marquess regarded her, his expression of concern much like his brother’s. ‘How do you go on, Miss England?’
She shot him a suspicious glance. ‘I suspect you know that is not my name.’
He smiled at her. ‘Madeleine, then, if I may?’
His wife took his arm, approval shining in her eyes.
‘As you wish, my lord,’ Madeleine murmured.
Devlin stood, facing his brother. ‘I have asked Madeleine to marry me, Ned.’
‘How lovely,’ exclaimed Serena.
The Marquess, however, knit his brows.
‘I have not accepted, my lord,’ Madeleine was quick to add.
‘Oh, dear,’ said Serena.
Devlin put his arm around Madeleine.
The Marquess pursed his lips. ‘It is not a wise course.’
‘Oh, nonsense!’ Serena broke in. ‘It is plain as a pikestaff they are in love with each other.’
‘Darling,’ Ned said, his voice softening as he turned to his wife, ‘there is more to marriage than love.’
‘A contract? A business matter? A merging of two fortunes?’ Devlin spoke with heat. ‘That may have suited you, Ned, but not me. I am a younger son. I will not even reside in England. What can it signify who I marry?’
Ned’s cheek twitched. ‘This plan of yours to rejoin the army is unconscionable.’
‘If it is the only way I may be with Maddy, it is worth it,’ Devlin said.
‘You will be with no one if you lie dead on some battlefield,’ his brother shot back.
Devlin’s teeth clenched. ‘I love Maddy and I will do anything to stay with her. Loving her is the only thing that matters.’
‘You have to stay alive, don’t you?’
‘Oh, please stop.’ Madeleine cried. ‘Stop arguing on my account.’
‘Oh, pish. Of course love matters,’ exclaimed Serena, her eyes flashing at her husband. ‘If you love Devlin, Ned, you ought to simply give him his estate and have done with it.’ She placed her hands on her hips. ‘More to marriage than love… Nonsense. Ned, you told me you loved me from our first meeting, as I have loved you. It has made all th
e difference.’ She spun around to Madeleine. ‘Tell me, Madeleine. Do you love Devlin?’
Madeleine gazed at Devlin. ‘I love Devlin more than life itself, but he deserves a better wife than I can be.’
Devlin gave her a returning look of adoration.
Serena smiled at them. She turned to her husband. ‘See?’
Ned shook his head. ‘What I see is trouble ahead for them.’
‘Did you know that Madeleine taught me how to love you, Ned?’ Serena persisted. ‘I went to Devlin’s apartments and begged her to teach me what to do.’
Ned’s jaw dropped.
‘So, you can place our happiness at her door.’ She placed her hand on her stomach. ‘We would not have this baby if not for Madeleine.’
Both Madeleine and Devlin gaped in surprise.
A slow smile lit Ned’s countenance. He moved toward his wife and took her in his arms, lifting her, and twirling her around. While Madeleine and Devlin watched in astonishment, Ned placed his lips on Serena’s and held them there, deepening the kiss until it was clear they had forgotten there were witnesses in the room.
‘Mama,’ Linette piped up, ‘Markiss kiss.’
Serena and Ned broke apart, red-faced.
‘Um,’ Ned mumbled. ‘If you will pardon us…’
As Serena’s laughter trilled, Ned took her arm, but paused, turning back to Devlin. ‘We’ll settle the estate papers and the bank draft later.’ He escorted his wife out of the room.
Devlin stared at the door. He turned to Madeleine, amazement on his face. ‘You are responsible for that?’
Madeleine felt her face grow hot. ‘I told her only what you have taught me about love.’
He walked over to her and gently lifted her chin with his finger. ‘I have not yet begun to teach you about love. Marry me. Come live with me at Edgeworth. We shall breed a stable of horses.’
‘I cannot.’ Her voiced cracked. ‘My past.’
His arms encircled her. ‘No one will know of your past. Your family will be ruined if they speak of it, and Farley is no longer a threat. No one else knows of you.’
‘People will wonder.’
‘Then we will give them a fiction to believe.’ He held her close against him, her head resting on his chest. ‘Perhaps you could become the daughter of a merchant or some such. We could say we secretly married years ago when I was on leave from Spain. Linette would be legitimate, then. How would that suit you?’
She relaxed against the steadiness of his heartbeat. ‘Oh, I suppose. It is merely another mask, is it not? But not a shameful one.’
‘I will give you the life you deserve.’ Devlin took a deep breath and squeezed her tighter. Lifting her face to his, he placed his lips tenderly against hers.
‘Deddy kiss!’ Linette squealed, running over to them.
Laughing, Devlin and Madeleine lifted her up between them and kissed again.
Epilogue
The two magnificent horses raced over the countryside, neck and neck, clearing every fence and hedge. Their hooves beat the earth like thunder, until at the stone marker on the rise, their riders drew them to a halt.
‘I won,’ Devlin said. ‘Arrived before you this time.’
‘Oh, no, indeed,’ said his wife. Her apparel gave her the appearance of a slim lad, but the cascade of mahogany-coloured hair down her back belied that impression. ‘I won.’
From this high vantage point, Devlin surveyed the fields of his estate, thick and fragrant with hops. He gave silent thanks to his brother. For the first time in Ned’s life, he had acted in a way their father would have disapproved. He had given Devlin Edgeworth, and his fortune, as well.
In the centre of this picturesque scene was the house, not as grand as nearby Heronvale, but more precious to Devlin because he shared it with his wife. In the distance Devlin watched their daughter, mounted on a white pony, jumping the low bars set up by Jem, as their best breeding mares grazed nearby. Unseen but also busy at work were his steward, Bart, who managed to recall every niggling task necessary to run the estate, and Sophie who, under much protest, had created Madeleine’s unusual riding outfit.
‘It is beautiful here,’ sighed Madeleine. ‘I never hoped for so much happiness.’
He grinned at her. ‘Do not be so happy. I won this race, you know.’
She pursed her lips. ‘Only because I have been a little tired of late.’
‘Tired?’ He gazed at her, worry furrowing his brow. ‘Maddy, are you unwell? Perhaps you should not be riding today.’
‘Not unwell precisely,’ she said, turning her steed to make a more sedate way down the hill.
He rode beside her.
She sighed. ‘I could not resist one more run. I shall not be free to do so again for some time.’
‘What the deuce are you talking about?’
She grinned at him, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. ‘I am due to give Linette a brother or sister next summer.’
He pulled his horse to a halt. ‘What?’
Madeleine rode back to him. ‘I am increasing, husband.’
‘Good God! And you are racketing all over the countryside, hell for leather? I ought to throttle you!’
‘Not throttle,’ she said, coming along beside him, the two horses head-to-tail to each other. The sultry look on her face heated his loins. She smiled and leaned toward him. ‘Kiss.’
Devlin Steele did as his wife bid him.
THE WAGERING WIDOW
Memories of the two nights he’d spent with her came flooding back.
How he’d gently undressed her on their marriage night. How his hands had felt on her skin that night in Bath. The sensations that had erupted—
She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. She’d promised herself never to think of the nights she’d spent with him. Never. He’d thought her wealthy then.
How like a gamester. When holding Aces and Kings all full of bonhomie, but if the hand contained twos and threes…
She would show him she was more than a widow hand, the hand dealt but left on the table for no one to play. She would be in the game at last and she would win.
The widow hand would win.
Praise for Diane Gaston
“The art of romance writing should be the art of seduction. A good romance book must be about seduction, lust, and desire… Diane Gaston is an author who understands this.”
—Historical Romance Writer
The Mysterious Miss M
“Wow…it’s a real emotional roller-coaster ride…you simply cannot put [it] down—absolutely mesmerizing!”
—Historical Romance Writer
“This is a Regency with the gutsiness of a Dickens novel. It’s not always pretty, but it’s real and passionate. Gaston’s strong, memorable debut provides new insights into the era and characters that touch your heart and draw you emotionally into her powerful story.”
—Romantic Times BOOKclub
“…an unusual gritty Regency packing such an emotional punch.”
—Historical Romance Writer
The Wagering Widow
“The protagonists were so deeply sculpted into living-breathing individuals that the reader will immediately be feeling their emotional turmoil…the entire tone of the book was steeped in sensuality…reading of the highest order!”
—Historical Romance Writer
This book is dedicated to my mother-in-law, Marie Grady. Unlike the mother-in-law in this story, Marie embraced her son’s wife as if she were her own daughter. She has always showered me with her love and support, especially when I needed it most, when my own mother passed away. Marie, this one is for you!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelv
e
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter One
September 1816, Scotland
Guy Keating straightened his spine and glanced about the blacksmith shop that he’d wager had never seen a forge. The voice of the anvil priest rang throughout the room. ‘Repeat after me…I, Guy Keating, take thee, Emily Duprey, to be my wedded wife…’
Barely able to make his mouth work, he finally responded, ‘I, Guy Keating…’ His words sounded like a funeral dirge.
What the devil was he doing in this place, speaking these words? The final vow nearly caught in his throat.
‘…’til death do us part.’
The priest, who Guy would hazard was neither priest nor blacksmith, turned to the young woman dressed in a plain brown travelling garment, standing on the other side of the never-used anvil. ‘Repeat after me,’ the anvil priest said. ‘I, Emily Duprey…’
The young woman answered in a soft, but clear tone, ‘I, Emily Duprey…’
Guy tried to give her a smile, this woman whose appearance was as unremarkable as her personality. She was neither short nor tall, thin nor stout. Her hair, worn with curls framing her face, was in the popular fashion, though its colour was the same bland brown as her dress. He could never quite recall the colour of her eyes, but whatever they were, her eyes did not enliven her always-composed face.
She gazed at him, almost a question in her expression, but not quite that animated. He ought to be flogged for bringing her nearly four hundred miles, to court scandal for them both at Gretna Green. Oh, he might tell himself she was better off wed to him than having her fortune gambled away by her wastrel father or plundered by one of the rakes who had lately been courting her. Guy had a much better use for her money. Did that not make him less reprehensible than those gentlemen ready to exploit her for their own gain? Certainly less reprehensible than her father, Baron Duprey, who was as addicted to the roll of dice as Guy’s own father had been.