Barons, Brides, and Spies: Regency Series Starter Collection Volume Two

by Mary Lancaster

  She stepped out, finding nothing in front of her but a nondescript building. It looked as though it would be fairly large inside, and Jeffrey held out an arm to her, a gleam in his eye and a smile on his lips as she reluctantly took it, still silent. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask where they were and what they were doing here, but she knew he wouldn’t answer her question and she would find out soon enough. At the very least, she doubted he would be looking at her with such satisfaction if he were going to do something nefarious, would he?

  Phoebe looked back and told Nancy she could remain with the carriage if she’d like—the day was warm, and Nancy looked as though she was enjoying herself with Jeffrey’s driver, as they were currently in the midst of an animated conversation. It was not as though Jeffrey was going to seduce her in the middle of what looked to be an abandoned warehouse, and besides, it was certainly too late for him to ruin her, was it not? Nancy smiled and nodded, and Phoebe turned to follow Jeffrey with some trepidation.

  Jeffrey called to Maxwell to stay, but the dog had other ideas and was soon happily trotting along behind them.

  The buildings to the right and left were warehouses of various sorts. Once looked to be a furniture manufacturer, and her suspicions were solidified by the sounds of men constructing within. The other side looked to be some kind of clothing manufacturer, and the building they were walking into was completely devoid of any clues as to what it might hold within. It was built of red brick, with a simple arched window in the front, offering nothing but darkness beyond.

  Jeffrey procured a key from his pocket to open the door, and Phoebe looked up at him questioningly.

  “Do you own this building?” she asked, to which he simply smiled but said nothing in confirmation. “Oh, you are maddening,” she muttered, and he chuckled slightly under his breath as he pulled open the door and ushered her in.

  The front foyer was open but sparse, with exposed brick walls and a plain hearth in one corner, with nothing else of which to speak occupying the room. There was a small corridor at the end, and Jeffrey ushered her down toward it and through, then bypassed the doors to the left and right and opened the door at the end of the hallway.

  “You are not meaning to kidnap me and keep me in this building as your captive, are you?” she asked, becoming more curious by the minute.

  “That was not my plan, but now you have given me an idea,” he said with a wicked grin, and she couldn’t help the reluctant smile that played on her lips at that. He pushed open the door, and she stepped in, squinting in the dim light, trying to determine what lay before her. Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness when she heard the scratching of Maxwell’s nails and the echo of Jeffrey’s boots on the floorboards behind her, and soon he was pulling back curtains to allow light into the room. She gasped when the sun flooded in, dust particles swirling in the air in front of her, but not distracting her from what lay before her.

  “A press,” she whispered almost reverently, and she turned to Jeffrey, who was grinning broadly now, his hands behind his back as he watched her reaction.

  “Your Mrs. Ellis told me upon my first visit to The Women’s Weekly that you had everything you needed for your paper but a printing press,” he said. “Well, now you have one.”

  She could only gape at him in astonishment as she walked forward, running her hand along the machine. It was by no means new and had obviously done some work in its time, but it would do an admirable job, and it was hers—if she chose to accept it.

  It was the most thoughtful gift he could have ever chosen for her. While most women would enjoy jewels or ballgowns in the latest style, for Phoebe, this meant more than any finery ever could.

  “But …” she turned to him, confusion coursing through her, “Why?”

  “That’s something of a long story,” he said, taking a hesitant step toward. “But first I must know—would you accept it? And in doing so, would you accept me?”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Phoebe stared at him in shock, overwhelmed by not only his gift but his words. Accept him? After all that had occurred?

  “But Jeffrey,” she started, lifting a hand but then dropping it, unsure of what she meant to do, or even say. “After everything that happened, all I did—you still want me?”

  “Phoebe,” he crossed the room to her, knelt in front of her, clearly oblivious to the dust and debris that had settled on the floor beneath his knees, his fine black breeches now covered in their dirt. “I was taken aback at your confession, I must admit. And were I the same man that I was the night we first met in the drawing room at the Earl of Totnes’ home … well, I would certainly have had a different reaction. But since I met you, since I spent time with you, I have come to know who you truly are, and in doing so, I understand much more of the way you see life, of the roles we all play. You may have lied, ’tis true, but I understand why you did so, and never did you stray from the woman you purport yourself to be.”

  He paused for a moment.

  “I will also admit that I had some help in seeing the error of my ways. I am blessed to have women in my life who are never fearful of sharing their infinite wisdom with me. I was upset with your dishonesty, truly I was, although I am beginning to understand why you chose to keep such truths from me. But more than anything, Phoebe, I have come to realize that I cannot spend my life without you. You are everything I need in a woman, though I never knew it until recently. You are strong, independent, determined, brave, and will have no qualms in ever telling me exactly what I need to hear. I do not know how I lived without you, and I would ask that you not force me to attempt to do so ever again.”

  Phoebe didn’t realize there were tears falling down her face until she saw one drop onto Jeffrey’s hand where he clasped hers, and she tore off her gloves as, at that moment, she needed to feel his warm hands upon hers. She intertwined their fingers then, and sank down to the floor with him, forgetting completely about the dust below.

  “Jeffrey,” she said leaning in toward him, looking him in his dark brown eyes that were no longer hard, but warm and caring, just like the man himself. “I didn’t think I could spend another moment with you, knowing how torturous it would be to leave you again. But I had to meet you in order to apologize, and before we go any further, you must allow me to do so. For you were right. I did use you, at least at first. But then I found myself falling completely in love with you, and I had no idea what course of action to take. I tried to tell you the truth, again and again, but it seemed my every attempt was thwarted, either by the presence of another or … distraction.” She colored slightly at that, and he grinned as he seemed to understand exactly of what she meant.

  “I can do nothing to fix that wrong but apologize. And yes, of course, I will have you. I will have you and your amazing family and your wonderful dog,” who was currently sniffing around at her feet, wondering what the two of them could possibly be doing, she was sure. “You have already proven that you know me better than likely anyone else, though there was no need for you to go to such extremes to prove what you feel for me.”

  “Actually,” his face darkened slightly, “There is more need than you know. But come, we will speak of that in the carriage. Your beautiful dress is likely ruined by now.”

  “Nothing that a good washing will not fix,” she said, though she allowed him to help her to her feet.

  She leaned into him now, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “I love you, Jeffrey, and I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how much,” she said softly.

  “I will hold you to that,” he said with a laugh, and then caught her mouth with his. He pressed a warm, firm kiss on her lips before drawing back slightly. “And I love you, Phoebe, more than you could ever imagine.”

  He kissed her once more, this time harder, more insistent, and she all but melted into him, her pulse racing at the thought that she would have this, have him, for the rest of her life. She had never thought it would be possible, but n
ow that it was, that he accepted her for all she was, her heart seemed as though it might burst with joy.

  And as for the paper … well, there was still one more obstacle between them, she supposed. She pulled back slightly as the thought dipped into her mind, reminding her of what had caused the distance between them to start.

  “What of the publication?” she asked, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her out the door.

  “Come,” he responded, and Maxwell seemed to believe the command was to him, as he quit sniffing around the corners and loped toward them, following them out the door. “I will tell you all.”

  *

  Jeffrey wished he could take this moment to bask in celebration of the fact that the woman he loved was going to be his wife, had accepted him after all they had been through, over what had seemed completely impossible. But this was life, and life had a way of interrupting even the happiest of moments. And so, first, they had to determine how to best face the adversity that remained. He outlined all that had occurred as succinctly as possible.

  “So your brother now wishes to put an end to The Women’s Weekly,” she murmured in response from her place in the carriage—on the seat beside him this time, where she belonged, though Maxwell looked at them slightly forlornly from the seat across from them.

  Jeffrey nodded. “Yes, although Ambrose is only choosing to do so in order to take revenge on me. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “It does now,” she said, grasping his hand tighter. “For many reasons. It is my paper, and if he is coming after you, then I take that as an affront to both of us.”

  His chest swelled at her words, at the fact that she now saw the two of them as one.

  “I myself would have faced the dilemma anyway of what to say to all those who would continue to question me as to the progress of my task of determining how to cease your publication,” he said gravely, “Though it would have become much simpler without Ambrose involved, who has far more knowledge than we would like. I have a plan, however, one that should hopefully protect you.”

  “What changed your mind?” she said suddenly, breaking through his thoughts as she turned toward him. “I realize that your mother and sisters played a part, but why did you eventually decide that the paper should continue—as I am hoping, from your words, you no longer have the urge to strike it down?”

  Jeffrey nodded slowly, understanding her question.

  “I must tell you, Phoebe, that I will never exactly become a subscriber to The Women’s Weekly,” he said with a bit of a laugh. “However, I had the opportunity to read the thing—actually read it, from cover to cover. And after a few conversations of my own, I began to attempt to place myself in the role of a woman reading it, and I can certainly see its appeal.”

  She snorted somewhat at the thought of him as a woman, but he simply raised an eyebrow and continued.

  “I also cannot say that I completely agree with every argument presented within its pages—particularly the editorials by ‘a Lady.’ Though I have found that she makes a great deal of sense, is eloquent, witty, and presents issues in a method that is extremely difficult to argue against them. At any rate, I no longer believe that its publication will bring complete discord to our society. But that brings me to the reason for the press. And the location we found ourselves in.”

  She nodded, and he leaned forward.

  “Oh, Jeffrey,” she said, breaking into his soliloquy, and running her soft, cool hands over what he knew were sure to be the lines on his face. His sisters were forever telling him that he needed to smile more, or he would continue to age at a far more rapid pace than would be desirable.

  And he knew then, at that moment, that he now had what—or, rather, who—he needed in order to keep him young, to keep him much more happier, carefree, and understanding, than he would ever be alone, or should he have chosen a wife for anything other than love.

  “You place far too much of a burden on yourself,” she continued, and he smiled, knowing her words to be true, and that she was beginning to know him better than most others.

  “Such is the way of a man with four sisters, the responsibility of multiple estates, and a conniving brother who knows nothing of responsibility himself,” he responded. “Which is why it was imperative that I find a woman who could look after herself, though I am unsure why such a thought never previously occurred to me.”

  “Oh, is that the only reason you wanted me?” she asked with a laugh, and he shook his head slowly.

  “I must confess, there was far more than that,” he said, no longer laughing himself as he gave into the thoughts and desires consuming him and wrapped an arm around her. He tugged her toward him so that she was flush against him, and he leaned down to kiss her. Just a taste, he told himself, and then it was on with business.

  But his body, it seemed, had something else in mind, and Phoebe certainly did not seem to have any issue with it. He kissed her hard and fast, drinking in the woman he had feared he had lost forever. She tasted so sweet, like tea and pastries, he thought, though there was an edge to her that he had never before experienced with any other women. It was desire, he realized. She wanted him as much as he did her, and that drove him crazy with his longing for her.

  The carriage came to an abrupt halt, and he pulled back dazedly from Phoebe to see that they had returned to her house.

  “Is your aunt home?” he asked, his mind in a fog.

  “No, I believe she is going out visiting this afternoon,” Phoebe responded, and Jeffrey let out a breath in an attempt to slow his racing heart, to quench the fire raging through him.

  “Perhaps we should disembark and walk,” he said, his fingers tapping mercilessly on the seat beside him, knowing the only way he would be able to resist making love to her this very moment was to be somewhere public, somewhere he would not have a choice in the matter.

  For his stubborn willpower was slowly seeping away from him. This woman had the power that no one else seemed to possess—the power to make him forget all, to throw away caution, and to allow himself to live.

  She looked at him now with some incredulity and simply held out her hand.

  “Come.”

  He took it.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Phoebe led him into her house, asking Nancy to bring tea to the drawing room.

  Nancy was quick, and the moment she had delivered it, Phoebe dismissed her, telling her that she and the marquess had some pressing matters to discuss, and they were not to be disturbed until Phoebe called for her. Whether Nancy understood the undertones of the conversation or not, Phoebe wasn’t sure, and Nancy didn’t seem to care.

  “I suppose she will likely be outside flirting with your driver anyway,” Phoebe murmured, but then her thoughts of Nancy and the driver fled as Jeffrey stepped up behind her. His body came flush against her back, and he bent his face to her neck as his fingers began to trail up her arms. She shivered, though she was far from cold, and his lips kissed the sensitive skin above her shoulder. She arched back against him, reveling in the fact that this man was hers, that he accepted her for all she was and all she did. There were no secrets now, nothing between them—except, perhaps, a few too many layers of clothes.

  “Come,” she said again, this time in near a whisper. She opened the door of the drawing room, taking his hand and leading him down the corridor to her own chamber. She pushed the door open, the crimson and cream room greeting them, and she saw Jeffrey pause momentarily to take in the cascading curtains, the writing table, and the bed, where his focus remained.

  “And just where has the redecorating occurred?”

  Phoebe flushed and turned to face him as she bit her lip at his question.

  “We may have used the redecorating excuse as a ruse to explain my busyness,” she said, looking up at him quickly, hoping he wouldn’t be upset at what had been another lie, although it was connected to the first and had actually been Elizabeth’s quick thinking and not her own.

&nbs
p; He shook his head at her as he hid the grin that seemed to be teasing his lips, and Phoebe realized that he had never believed the fib.

  She now took both of his hands in hers, looking up at him with a smile, but he intercepted her.

  “As we are to be married … we should likely wait to make love once more, should we not?” he asked, but his voice was gruff, husky, his throat filled with uncontained lust—for her. It made her quiver with anticipation to feel him against her, inside her, once more.

  “Perhaps we should,” she responded, keeping her face a mask, and he nodded, though his was in turmoil.

  She gave him but one more moment of suffering before she began to laugh at his agony and he looked at her, perplexed.

  “I’m sorry, that was evil of me. Perhaps…” she said, her smile fading as she leaned into him once more, “We should live in the moment and succumb to what both of us are currently longing for very, very much.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck then, and he groaned before leaning over her, taking her mouth with his. It was a kiss of desperation, true, but there was more to it. It was also a kiss of promise, one that solidified the love they had spoken to one another, as the pent-up desire and emotion flowed between them.

  In one fluid motion, Jeffrey swooped down, a strong arm coming underneath her knees as he lifted her up and carried her to the bed. He laid her down upon it gently, and for a moment she wondered where his passion had gone as he stilled. But then she looked up at him and saw it pooled in his eyes, which were sharper than ever before.

  “This time,” he murmured, “I am going to do this right.”

  “Was it so wrong the last time?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “I wouldn’t exactly say there was anything wrong with it—in fact, it was very right, for that particular moment,” he confessed, and a lock of his blond hair fell over his brow. “However, today, you will feel loved, Phoebe Winters, soon-to-be Worthington.”